Dawn proved to be too late.

  Alessia and her apprentices had managed to fill five travel packs with the necessities for a few nights away, and Alessia had divided the household budget between them so they had something to offer the guild when they arrived, when they heard the tramp of boots in the street outside.

  Alessia looked up from where she was packing her books into a trunk.

  Soldiers?

  She straightened, wiping her hands against her skirts, and hurried to the window overlooking the street. Lifting the curtain carefully aside, she peered out. The patter of footsteps on the stairs heralded the arrival of her apprentices at the door.

  “Mistress?” Sindra’s whisper, made her jump, but Alessia signaled for silence.

  What she saw in the street below made her almost freeze with fright. Not one, but two, squads of soldiers had entered Cat’s Lane and were marching toward her cottage. If she’d had any doubts as to why they’d come, they were dispelled when one of the men leading them looked over at the other and gestured toward her front door.

  The nod that answered him, confirmed her fears, even as he turned and signaled his troops forward.

  Alessia watched long enough to see him turn purposefully toward her door.

  “By the dark god’s teats!” she swore, and turned to her apprentices.

  Ignoring the shock on their faces, she started issuing orders.

  “Varan, unlock the passage in the garden wall.”

  His look of shocked surprise would have been comical if the situation hadn’t been so dire. The little wretch had obviously thought he’d been the only one to find it.

  “I knew of it when I moved in,” she explained, moving on. “Girls, fetch your packs and follow him.”

  They all gaped at her and she stamped her foot.

  “Go! We have no time, and I want you safe. I’ll follow as soon as I can. Now, go!”

  They went, and she turned to the box containing the components she’d need if they were to have any chance at all of escape.

  Two squads!

  She had no doubt they wouldn’t all be waiting at her front door.

  As she found the first of her components, a thought struck her.

  “Varan!” she called, and relaxed when she heard the boy returning at the run.

  “Mistress?”

  Alessia took the parchment she’d retrieved from Duke Hartender’s study, and passed it to him.

  “Make sure this gets to the guildmaster,” she instructed sternly. “Promise me!”

  “I promise, Mistress, but—”

  From the front door below, she heard the squad come to an abrupt halt.

  “No buts, Varan. Now, go!”

  He hesitated, and she seized the boy by his shoulders and turned him.

  “Go! The gate needs to be unlocked by the time the girls reach it, but I don’t want you waiting. I want you to keep going. Don’t stop for anything, and don’t look back. If they take us, our only hope lies with you telling the guildmaster what happened.”

  “But, Mistress—”

  Alessia shoved him.

  “Go!”

  Three loud knocks boomed through the cottage.

  “Hurry!” Alessia hissed, grabbing the last of the ingredients and steering him toward the door. “Do not tarry!”

  The knocking came again, and she hurried down the stairs ahead of him. “Coming!”

  Varan followed her down the stairs, and with one worried look in her direction, he ran for the back door. Behind him, Zarine clattered down the stairs, ignoring Varan as she followed Alessia.

  “Mistress?” she began, but Alessia turned pointing toward the garden door.

  ‘Go,’ she mouthed, not daring to say the word out loud. She gave the girl her fiercest scowl. ‘Now!’

  As soon as the girl had turned toward the garden, Alessia took the last few strides she needed in order to reach the door. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she lifted the latch, opening it only wide enough to let her slide through, and pull it closed behind her.

  The soldier standing on her front step had no choice but to take a step back to give her room. Seeing the look on his face, and the men arrayed behind him, Alessia hoped she’d be able to give the girls and Varan enough time to reach the secret passage leading from the garden to the streets beyond…and that those streets remained clear of soldiers.

  She’d known when she’d seen them that she wasn’t going to be able to escape with her apprentices, but she had faith in Raomar. They might have parted ways, but she still counted him enough of a friend to come and free her, as he had freed so many others before her.

  Pushing those thoughts aside, she focused on the guard captain standing in front of her.

  “Yes?” she asked, not having to try very hard to sound as puzzled as she felt. “How can I help the king’s guard?”

  Because it was the king’s guard, and not Deverath’s wardens, who’d come to her doorstep, and she couldn’t help wondering why…and if the king’s guard had come to take her, the task of her retrieval was going to be so much harder.

  She wondered what Raomar would ask in return, and then decided it didn’t matter. The guildmaster could name his price—especially if the scenes she’d observed in the king’s temple were anything to go by. Suppressing a shudder at the memory, she looked at the soldiers waiting outside her home.

  A full squad…two, even.

  Letting her eyes rove briefly over them, she returned her attention to the man before her.

  “Can I help you?”

  He regarded her briefly, as though she wasn’t what he’d expected.

  “Is this the residence of the wizardess, Alessia Mistlewood?” he asked.

  Alessia rested one hand against the door lintel, and noted the ripple of unease that flowed through the soldiers behind him in response.

  So, she thought, they know what, if not who, they are arresting. Funny, I thought my face was better known.

  Now that she thought about it, she was glad it wasn’t, otherwise they’d have already acted. Instead, she was able to buy her apprentices a little more time.

  “It is,” she replied. “Is the mistress expecting you?”

  “Not exactly,” the captain replied, raising his face in query. “Is she home? We’d like to speak with her.”

  As if he’d given a signal, the soldiers shifted, preparing to move forward, and to enter by force if they had to. Their faces might have been pale with the fear of facing a wizardess in her own home, but they were prepared to do what they’d been asked.

  Alessia didn’t blame them for being nervous. Arresting a magic user was not a duty to be undertaken lightly. Pausing as though she couldn’t make up her mind whether or not to wake up her mistress, Alessia carefully scanned the two squads.

  Somewhere among them, they had to have a wizard of their own. No-one would try to arrest a magic-user without one…surely…

  She searched for some small detail that would give the waiting mage away, anything that would indicate where the greatest threat was located, so she could counter them before they cast their first spell. She was both impressed and disappointed when she saw nothing.

  It was a rare wizard who could hide so well in the middle of a group of soldiers. It made her hopeful that the soldiers had come without one…and worried that they had not, and that she wouldn’t see an attack coming before it arrived.

  Countering spells on the fly, or trying to negate their effects after they’d been cast, took more energy than pro-actively casting something that would protect her and the front door…and she had very little magical energy left to spare. Trying to determine who had scried them, had taken a lot out of her.

  “Are you sure it can’t wait until morning?” she asked, hopefully. “The mistress has had a long day…”

  The captain shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. Her presence is needed at the palace immediately, and I’m afraid his Majesty doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

  Alessia hesitated, then bobbed her head.

  “I’ll go and fetch her,” she answered.

  She half-turned, intending to slide back through the front door and close it in their faces, but the captain didn’t let her. As she opened the door, and began to step through, he closed the distance between them, pushing her back against the opening door and signaling his men inside.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, even though that was painfully clear; he was pinning her to the door and making sure his men gained access.

  He gave her a grim smile. “Where is she?”

  Alessia smiled back.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  “Out!” she snarled, sliding her palms between them, and pressing them against his chest.

  Drawing enough magic to send a jolt of lightning from her hands, left her slightly light-headed.

  The lightning crackled, sending traceries of energy arcing around his chest and over his shoulders, before propelling his body into the opposite wall. The soldiers who hadn’t entered the house beat a hasty retreat back along the path, and those inside hesitated.

  Another voice broke the momentary stillness that followed, and Alessia turned her head toward it.

  She was just in time to see the captain of the second squad raise his hands in the gestures needed for a spell of his own. The man she’d zapped, slid down the opposite wall, his body convulsing with the remnants of the lightning flowing through him. With him down, Alessia was free to counter the spell coming at her…if she was quick enough.

  As she did, she sensed another danger, an almost tangible evil lurking, watching her from the early morning shadows. Terror rose inside her, threatening to steal the spell from her lips. Hearing the captain’s spell reaching completion, she dug deeper, searching for something, anything, that would let her break past her captors, and escape the evil that pursued her.

  The soldiers might indeed be from the king, but she had no doubt they’d been sent in obedience to orders received from the being he worshipped, and she had no desire to become one of the sacrifices on his altar, no desire to see her apprentices shackled to the blood-drenched pillars in the temple beneath the palace.

  Memory of the dark temple and the creatures lurking in its shadows cracked some barrier in her soul, and she tapped a reserve of magic she hadn’t known she possessed.

  “Extreme circumstances…” The words of one of her teachers echoed in her mind. “Extreme circumstances are required for the birth of one who wields the element of magic, for unlike those who can tap the mortal elements at will, those who can touch raw magic and survive, rarely uncover the ability save in times of great distress.”

  Alessia had barely enough time to register the truth of the words, before the magic rose unbidden, carrying one spell more to her mind, one that did not require her hands to guide it, just the sheer force of her will. As the lightning of her previous spell danced its last steps across the captain’s chest and through his hair, she let the new spell tumble from her lips.

  It wasn’t the most elegant of castings, and Alessia was sure she had stumbled over some crucial phrasing, but she released the spell a mere heartbeat after the second captain had finished his final word and gesture.

  The sound as the two spells collided built to a roar and the rebounded around her like a hammer. Alessia found herself knocked back into the house as the magic ricocheted back over her, down the hall and through the back door into the garden.

  The force of it spun her around and slammed her into the floor as it washed past. Alessia’s teeth rattled and her mind clouded. The injured captain said something unprintable about wizards, spells, and magic in general, and Alessia choked on an involuntary laugh.

  Part of her agreed with the man, and part of her was amused that he wasn’t a fan, but none of her found it funny when he slowly and painfully hauled himself from the floor, and wavered toward her. Using the wall for support, he looked down at her, his face stern with rebuke, and the weight of his mission.

  “Mistress Alessia Mistlewood,” he said, addressing her in a voice crackling with pain. “I arrest you and your household in the name of King Andreus Feravan the First. Surrender to me.”

  Looking up at him, Alessia tried to smirk, but her face wouldn’t obey her any more than her limbs, and she wondered if her apprentices had made it into the garden and then beyond. Lying there, she was vaguely aware of the soldiers moving quickly past.

  Some disappeared up the stairs, and others into the garden and the far reaches of the ground floor. A particularly shiny pair of boots stopped beside her, and she made her eyes obey enough to follow his silhouette up from his boots to his trousers and jacket and, finally, his face.

  He was glaring, and her eyebrows twitched in response.

  “You,” the captain of the second squad declared, “have so far been a lot more trouble than I think you are worth, but his Majesty was very specific in his orders, and you are coming with us.”

  “His Majesty said to take them alive,” the first captain reminded him, and the second nodded.

  “And so we shall,” he replied. “See to our men. The wizardess is my responsibility.”

  The other captain nodded, then turned away. Watching him go, Alessia wanted to call him back. Despite almost frying him, she had a feeling she’d be a lot safer in his custody than in his companion’s. Discovering her limbs had decided to respond, she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position.

  The movement drew the second captain’s attention, just as she tried to stand and had her feet slide out from under her. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the sudden unbidden haze threatening to overwhelm it, just as he took pity on her and reached down to seize her bicep.

  “I’ve got you,” he said, and she wasn’t sure if it was meant to be reassurance or a reiteration of her capture.

  He dragged one of her arms around his shoulders and slid his arm around her waist.

  “Forgive the impropriety,” he said. “Let me help you. It would be a pity to keep his Majesty waiting.”

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind waiting a little bit longer,” Alessia managed, but the captain shook his head.

  “The king is not a patient man,” he replied.

  “Then he should have made an appointment,” Alessia retorted, her voice slurring a little. “I have things scheduled for today.”

  “Then I’m afraid they’ll have to wait,” the captain demurred.

  “But I’ll be late,” she complained. “Surely you can send word…”

  The captain looked around, noting the pack left standing beside the wall.

  “I’m afraid your travel plans will have to be delayed,” he informed her, “because you will accompany me back to the palace to make your meeting with the king.”

  “But I don’t have an appointment,” Alessia protested.

  “Nevertheless, he’s expecting you,” the captain replied.

  His quiet insistence frightened her almost more than the destination itself.

  “Please,” she tried, “I still have so much to arrange…”

  She let her voice trail off as the man shook his head.

  “I’m sorry, Mistress Mistlewood, but the king has grown tired of waiting, and bids me bring you straight away.”

  “But my apprentices…” Alessia stated. “Surely, they don’t need to come. I’m sure there’s nothing they can do that I can’t do in their stead.”

  The man pressed his lips together and gave another shake of his head.

  “On the contrary, Mistress Mistlewood,” the captain informed her, “the king’s master greatly desires to meet with them, in particular Miss Sindra. The king was most insistent they be included in this opportunity to meet with them.”

  Them, Alessia noted, and her heart fell. If the captain wasn’t aware of the true nature of the king’s dark master, then he was at least aware there was someone, or something, the king answered to, and was either loyal or afraid enough to ensure the wishes of both were obeyed.

  “There has to be a mistake,” she whispered, realizing who it had to have been who’d scried them, for only one man could order the king’s soldiers to fetch someone against their will, and that was the king himself.

  Even though the king’s face had been hidden beneath an ornate helm every time she’d seen him, Alessia feared the king’s name was the one attached to the face of their intruder. A shudder passed through her as memory of his armor, brought memory of his temple, with its dark altar, and a chalice of blood being raised.

  She tried to pull her arm from around the captain’s shoulders, only to find he had a firm grip on her wrist. His other arm tightened around her waist.

  “Come, now, Mistress Mistlewood,” he soothed. “I’m sure you have nothing to fear.”

  Liar! She wanted to scream, but he held her fast and she found herself trapped by the vision of the body on that altar, and the images of the second sacrifice, Kalain, screaming in terror as the king’s undead servants ate him alive.

  The fear clutched at her stomach, becoming ice that flowed through her veins and turned her limbs to lead.

  “There has to be a mistake,” she whispered. “There is nothing the king and his master can possibly want from us.”

  The captain tucked her against his side, bending his head close to her own. His warm breath brushed her cheek and throat in an intimacy almost too great to bear.

  “You know there is much they can want,” he murmured, and Alessia recognized the magic in his voice, too late to stop it.

  The spell wove itself through her thoughts as he murmured a scattering of syllables to close it around her.

  “You have nothing to fear,” he repeated, his voice raising goosebumps on her flesh, even as it soothed her thundering heart. “You and your apprentices will be attended with great care.”

  Part of her shrieked that this was exactly what she feared, but another part wondered what she had ever been afraid of. The magic tightened, a silken sheath that soothed her to the point she found herself agreeing with his next suggestion.

  “It will only be for a short time,” the captain breathed. “Surely you can spare your king such a tiny fragment, a couple of days of luxury to reward yourself and your apprentices for the hard work you’ve been doing. You deserve that much, don’t you?”

  “Perhaps…” Alessia demurred, wondering why she was hesitating. After all, was the request so unreasonable? He was the king, after all.

  “Please say you’ll come, now,” the captain requested. “Your apprentices will follow shortly, and it really is only a small portion of your time. You deserve the rest.”

  He was right, Alessia could see that, now—and the king’s kindness in sending an escort for their safety shouldn’t be spurned.

  “Of course, we’ll come,” she agreed.

  “I’m so glad,” the captain told her, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

  The clatter of bootsteps on the stairs distracted them, and they glanced toward the sound. Alessia’s eyes widened as a soldier appeared, Sindra’s unconscious form slung over one shoulder. Sound from the garden, led their gaze to the back door, where a second soldier was lugging Xanthia inside in the same way.

  Alessia turned spell-hazed eyes to the captain.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “I thought you said they’d be safe? It looks like they’re being taken by force.”

  She tried to jerk out of his grasp, but the captain pulled her close, trapping her body against his.

  “Shhh,” he whispered. “You know how it is when you don’t want to wake someone…” His voice asked her to understand, but a part of Alessia’s mind admired his creativity. The sense of danger she’d felt earlier, returned in force.

  This time it was accompanied by such a deep sense of wrongness that she baulked. If that sense hadn’t grown stronger at his touch, the spell he’d woven might have reasserted itself. As it was, he signaled that the soldier carrying Sindra should pass, and the man brushed against her.

  In that instant, Alessia knew her apprentice must not be taken to the palace. Fear for the girl’s safety spiked through her, and she jerked away. The glamor unraveled, and the captain’s request to accompany him to the palace no longer seemed as reasonable as the sun shining on a summer’s day.

  A soft cry escaped her as she realized the girls had not gotten away.

  “Easy,” the captain soothed, gently trapping her hands and binding them. “The king and his master will be happy to see them.”

  “You!” Alessia snapped, trying to pull her hands free, and then to slam her own bare foot into the instep of his boot. It was the knee she brought up into his groin that won her a momentary reprieve.

  She followed it with a two-handed shove that sent him stumbling back. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for her to tear free of his grasping hands. Her terror lent her strength and speed as she turned and ran for the door.

  The captain snarled an expletive more commonly heard in taverns or on the docks than in a wizard’s study, as Alessia managed to duck past him. She felt one of his hands brush the back of her blouse as he tried to snatch her back, but a desperate burst of speed saw her past the soldier carrying Sindra and through the front door.

  “Yannik!” the captain roared as she leapt down the short flight of stairs and raced for her own front gate.

  She heard a sudden thump as the soldier dropped his burden and turned after her. She dodged his sudden lunge and heard him swear at her escape. Alessia couldn’t make out the exact words, and she didn’t even try.

  Instead, she bolted into the street, looking for a gap between the closely-packed buildings that made up the cul-de-sac neighborhood of Cat’s Way. At first, she didn’t see one, and a sob of desperation escaped her as she noticed the soldiers forming up to block her path out of the street.

  Footsteps sounded behind her, trotting swiftly down the path and out her gate to the cobbled street beyond. Alessia darted further into the street, almost wishing one of her neighbors would open their front door and offer her a way through to the alley that ran behind their homes.

  None did, and she didn’t blame them. Just because they weren’t wizards, didn’t mean the king couldn’t harm them the same way, and an audience with his ‘master’ wasn’t a fate she’d wish on anyone.

  No, she decided, better they stay out of sight and mind.

  Wishing it were otherwise, she looked for an escape, even as she heard her pursuer’s footsteps come to a halt and the first syllables of another spell ripple through the air. The spell wasn’t a familiar one, and she found herself fighting the urge to stop and listen to it.

  Now is not the time, she scolded herself, ignoring the thought that her time for learning new spells might soon be at an end.

  She spotted a narrow gap between the buildings opposite her, and bolted toward it. Behind her, the captain’s voice reached a crescendo, and the sense of incoming magic crawled ant-like between her shoulder blades and down her back.

  Alessia put on a spurt of speed, diving toward the gap, but it was too little, too late. The spell broke over her like a wave of fire, and even as she reached the shelter of the narrow passage between two cottage walls, the fire flowed along her arms and down her legs, even as it licked up her neck and into her head.

  She thought she heard herself scream, but she was already falling, her world tipping at a crazy angle. Twisting as she fell, she caught sight of the captain lowering his hands and slapping the shoulder of the soldier next to him. He pointed to where she’d fallen.

  “Fetch her back,” he ordered. “We are done here.”

  Alessia tried to move, to get to her to feet, and flee, but the fire held her rigid. Darkness flickered at the edge of her eyes. The world faded to a searing red glare, accompanied by the all-encompassing roar of flame, as darkness punctuated one last question from the captain.

  “Do we have them all?”

  Try as she might, Alessia didn’t hear the answer, as the flames engulfed her completely.