Description: Numair's simulacrum is executed publicly in the arena. The mage meets up with Lindhall at the university as they take the next steps to free Daine and Kitten.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. Everything belongs to Tamora Pierce.

Author's Note: PLEASE BE WARNED this chapter contains torture, execution and suggested rape. Because we see Ozorne try to crush a screaming illusion of Arram in his hands, I don't believe a man like that wants a quick execution for his enemy. He wants to see Numair suffer, scream and beg. I can't say I enjoyed writing this chapter. Even knowing this was happening to an illusion, it still felt unnecessarily cruel (and I'm the one writing it!). It wasn't comfortable trying to get inside Ozorne's head and inflicting what he might consider adequate punishment.

Chapter 12

Spy work always required a lot of patience which Numair was very short of while he worried over his best friend. He didn't think Ozorne would harm her while she was unconscious, but the sooner he found her the better. Unfortunately, that meant waiting and watching and studying the patrols, looking for a gap which he could sneak through to get into the palace. The guard patrols had tripled since the delegations had arrived which meant infiltrating the palace grounds was nearly impossible. Numair wasn't quite ready to start using his Gift just yet. He wanted to be completely sure his illusion had fooled Ozorne and no one would be searching for him when he freed Daine.

The mage spent the entire night sat on the rooftop studying the patrols until he had to conclude he wouldn't be sneaking into the palace overground. Lindhall knew about the slave tunnels that went under the palace and they might be Numair's only hope of getting Daine out. He would have to return to the university at some point and hope his old friend had a map of the tunnels which he could borrow.

As dawn began to light the night sky, Numair finished the last of his food and emptied the waterskin. He needed to reconnect with his simulacrum. The interrogators would have been furious that they hadn't been able to wake him, and the mage preferred not to think about what they might have done trying to rouse him. He wandered along the streets until he found an empty alleyway where he reset his protection wards and created an illusion of it being blocked. Sitting in lotus position, Numair took several calming breaths before linking with his simulacrum again.

He blinked his eyes and slowly raised his head to look around the room. The two interrogators were still in the room, but at some point in the night, the red robes had changed for new ones.

"He wakes at last," the first interrogation mage purred nastily.

"The emperor is most displeased you did not enjoy the night's entertainment," the second mage grinned.

"You can tell his Imperial Highness I got bored." Numair said dispassionately.

"You don't have many hours left to live, traitor," the first mage spoke. "And you've wasted most of those on sleep."

"I think we should show him some of what he missed while unconscious." The second mage smirked at the first.

Numair groaned as the tortures began again. He wasn't sure how he would have endured this had he been captured himself. The black robe was quite serious when he'd said he would rather die than return to the dungeons. The tortures finally ceased when a yellow robe came to inform his captors that it was time for the traitor's execution. Slaves stepped forward to wrap a loincloth over the mage, and Numair frowned wondering why anyone cared about his dignity now. Once the slaves had left the cell the chains were released, and he crashed to the stone floor. His body would have been in agony from being held stretched all night as well as having his arms and legs dislocated.

Two red robes stepped forward and dragged him from the cell through the dungeons. The mage didn't offer any resistance and he doubted there was much he could have done at this point. The red robes threw him to the ground in front of a horse-drawn cart as the manacles at his feet were attached to a chain. Numair couldn't imagine how they expected him to walk when the horses started forward and he was dragged along behind by his ankles. Red robes took position in front and behind the cart as the mage was dragged through the streets. Carthaki's of all ages watched the procession of the traitor and several pelted him with rocks or rotten fruit.

The mage realised where he was to be taken as the Great Arena he'd hated so much in his youth loomed into view. He'd been here many times to witness the games as well as time spent under the arena sewing the gladiators back together so they could return to pulverise each other for the crowd's pleasure.

The cart continued its slow progress through the sand tunnel which led to the central arena where the 'games' had once been held. Numair remembered being quite sick in this tunnel after he'd watched a particularly bloody fight as a boy. He'd begged Ozorne to put a stop to them, but his former friend still thought of the fights as 'entertainment'.

The sun blinded Numair briefly as the cart rode out into the central arena. When he could finally see again, he noticed just how full the stadium was. It looked like every mage; master, apprentice and student had been summoned to witness his execution. The mage recognised some of the ambassadors from the delegation including several ministers who were present.

Two large muscular slaves stepped forward and released Numair's ankles from the cart. They hoisted him up under the shoulders and carried him towards two posts that had been erected in the centre of the arena. Several barrels were suspended above the posts and the mage tried to guess what they might contain and why they were up there. The slaves were surprisingly gentle, and their eyes held a look of deep pity as they attached his wrist cuffs to the posts so that his arms were spread out wide. There were manacles at the base of the posts that his ankles were chained to as Numair hung limp within his chains. He raised his head to glare at the imperial dais where his former best friend sat on his throne, smiling.

Emperor Ozorne was dressed in blood red for the execution with red beads in his braids and rubies glittering at his fingers, ears and toes. Beside the emperor stood Varice wearing a plain looking grey dress under her open cream silk robe. Her face was white with horror as she stared at Numair with her hands covering her mouth. Prince Kaddar stood at his uncle's right, dressed appropriately for the occasion and covered in jewels which contrasted with his rather grey complexion. The heir was attempting to conceal his discomfort and mask the emotions on his face, but he couldn't stop fidgeting and looked very much like he wanted to turn away.

Numair scanned the crowd until he spotted Lindhall stood with some of the other teaching masters. His old friend looked pale but didn't try to conceal the anger in his tight-lipped face. The mage was relieved he couldn't spot Daine anywhere in the crowd. It would have been unbearable had she witnessed any of this.

The imperial crier, standing below the throne, stepped forward and addressed the arena. "Numair Salmalín, formerly known as Arram Draper, you are to be executed for your crimes against the empire as dictated by His Most Serene and Imperial Majesty, Ozorne Muhassin Tasikhe. If the traitor wishes to beg for his life the emperor will now hear your pleas."

"I won't beg for my own life, but I will beg for Daine's." Numair croaked. "Release her – please."

A slow smile spread over the emperor's face. "Your student is accused of aiding in a slave rebellion against us. Even if she were found innocent, she will not be permitted to leave Carthak."

"No! You know that is all falsehood. Let her go! Please!" the mage looked at Ozorne beseechingly. "Please."

The emperor rose slowly from his throne and began to descend the stairs from the imperial tier eliciting several shocked gasps from the stands. Ozorne made his way slowly across the arena until he stood directly before his prisoner.

"You really think I would let your little whore go when I found out what she could do?" he whispered. "She is mine now. I will keep her close and breed from her to obtain my own army of Wildmages."

"You wouldn't dare…" Numair felt bile rise in his throat and couldn't figure out if it was his own or the simulacrum's.

"She will be bred from," the emperor smiled, knowing the pain he was causing his enemy. "We shall give her luxury, of course, but from this day forward she will be with child until she can no longer birth successfully. The girl shall know no freedom and we will ensure it is your name she curses for her torment."

"What have you done with her!" the mage lunged forward uselessly as he raged. "Where is she?"

Ozorne's eyes flashed dangerously before he grinned cruelly. "Veralidaine is enjoying her stay in your old room."

The emperor turned on his heel and started back across the arena floor.

"You can't do this! Let her go! Ozorne, please. You can't do this!" Numair begged and pleaded for Daine's life terrified he may already be too late.

The emperor ignored the mage's pleas as he ascended the dais to his throne, a triumphant smile played across his thin lips. Ozorne turned and held up his hands for silence as he addressed the crowd. Numair hung in his chains as a tear tracked unbidden down his cheek.

"Two nights ago, while we were reviewing our great navy, the statue of Zernou visited us. It had been sent by the gods to deliver an important message; the gods are angry because a threat to Carthak still exists. The statue pointed the traitor, Salmalín, out to us and we knew what must be done to restore favour with the gods and bring glory back to our empire. The traitor must die. With his death, we shall set sail for Tortall and conquer new lands for our people and expand our glorious empire. It is but the first step in bringing the nations under our rule as one united empire; the Eternal Empire!"

The audience clapped politely in response but Ozorne's rousing speech had not inspired his followers as he might have hoped. Many looked nervously at one another and glanced at the black robe mage chained to the posts in the centre of the arena.

Varice stepped forward and knelt before the emperor. "Please, your Imperial Highness, don't do this. I beg of you, don't kill Arram. Other monarchs will fear you far more if you show mercy to your betrayer."

Ozorne lifted her chin and stroked her cheek. "I am sorry, my dear. I know you were fond of him, but the traitor dies. The gods demand his death, and I shall not disappoint them."

Varice bowed her head and returned to her position beside the emperor. Tears slid down her cheeks as she met Numair's eyes in a silent apology.

"Let it be known that this will be the punishment inflicted on all those who betray us." The emperor intoned. "Begin!" Ozorne clapped his hands once and sat on his throne while he selected a prune from the bowl a slave offered to him.

Behind Numair, one of the muscular slaves stepped forward with a long-spiked pole and made a small hole in one of the barrels. The mage raised his head as he watched a gelatinous liquid slowly swell from the hole until it dropped and fell onto his arm. The liquid began to burn and melt a hole in his flesh as the mage watched in horrified fascination. He finally remembered to command the simulacrum to scream in pain as another drop of liquid fell on his arm and burned.

The emperor clapped his hands again and the slave stepped forward to make a hole in another barrel as it began to slowly drip liquid fire onto his other arm. Numair commanded the simulacrum to continue screaming endlessly as he glared hatefully at Ozorne. What sort of a man would devise such a cruel punishment?

The simulacrum continued to scream until the vocal cords became hoarse as more holes were made in the barrels. The mage had no idea how long the execution lasted, but he remained with his simulacrum forcing it to glare at Ozorne, long past the time when he should have passed out from the pain, until the fire eventually consumed the body.

Numair disconnected and was instantly and violently sick. He had a few hysterical moments as he checked his arms and chest for burn marks until he could convince himself that the execution hadn't happened to his own body. The mage sat in the alleyway rocking back and forth trying to calm his breathing as he fought tears. The experience had been too gruesome for words, and he knew those moments would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.

It was sometime later when the mage finally convinced himself to move. He needed to get to the university while everyone was still in the Great Arena. Numair made his way slowly through the streets in a daze until he reached the river. His mind was oddly numb, and he could only focus on the next course of action. Checking he was alone; the mage wove the wards around himself to allow him to breath underwater and to walk on the riverbed including several protection spells. He used to walk the River Zekoi with his old teaching master, Sebo, who had taught him about the river and its creatures as well as introducing him to the crocodile god, Enzi.

It took him several minutes to remember how to walk along the floor without falling over. The trick was to move slowly and carefully so he stayed upright. The Zekoi was filthier than when he used to walk here: human waste and trash floated in the murky water along with the rotting corpses of animals that had been sacrificed to the river god. It took time to reach the far bank and climb up the other side. Numair was glad he didn't encounter any crocodiles or hippos without Daine by his side. The thought of his friend sent a sharp pain through his chest, and he turned back towards the palace.

"I'm coming, Daine. I promise you. I won't leave you at his mercy," he whispered.

Entering the university and sneaking into Lindhall's rooms was a simple task as the area was deserted. Numair let himself into the back room where his simulacrum had been stored and sat on the floor in the dark. He knew he should try to eat or drink something, but the thought only made his stomach roll.

Several long hours passed before Lindhall returned to his rooms. The mage sat silently until he was certain his friend was alone before he opened the door and peered out. The master yelped and jolted in fright until he saw the younger mage. The older man looked pale and hollow as he strode across the room and yanked his friend into a tight embrace. Tears filled Numair's eyes as he returned the embrace. When they parted, he found Lindhall's eyes were bright with unshed tears as they looked at each other.

"I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you, my boy," the master patted him on the arm and guided them both towards seats. "That was an experience like no other, and I have no desire to ever see it repeated. Even knowing that it wasn't you…" The older mage ran a shaky hand over his face.

"I know," Numair murmured. "I experienced it all from within the body. I won't be able to sleep for weeks."

"It already looks like you've skipped a few nights sleep." Lindhall said kindly. The younger mage lowered his eyes and nodded. "I can make you a sleeping draft that will knock you out for several hours without dreaming."

"I don't want to sleep. I need to get Daine and Kitten away from here while there's still a chance. Are the other mages still at the arena?"

"I'm afraid not. I was the last one to leave." The master's voice was quiet. "I had to stay until the fire was out so I could retrieve this." From his robe the older mage drew out Numair's black opal pendant. "I was concerned it would have melted with the rest of the body, but it has some very powerful protections on it. I was surprised to see your simulacrum still wearing it. I would have thought the emperor's mages would have removed it from you when you were taken to the dungeons."

"I spelled my opal to stay with the simulacrum until it was destroyed, or until I retrieved it. No one would be able to remove it from the body once you placed it around its neck."

"Very clever." Lindhall said approvingly. "For now, it appears your deception seems to have worked. The emperor believes he has finally killed you so we can plan the rescue of your student and the young dragon."

"Have any of the slaves seen where Kitten is being held? My suspicion is that Ozorne will have put her in the menagerie with the other Immortals, but I would like to have that confirmed."

"My slave contacts are not allowed in the Immortal menagerie, but they have not seen her anywhere else in the palace. What of Daine? Do you know where she is being held?" the older mage inquired.

"I know where Ozorne is keeping Daine. He told me so himself." Numair's hands were shaking as he ran them through his messy hair. He hated wearing it loose, but it helped with his disguise.

"Is that why you were so upset when you spoke privately in the arena?"

"Among other things," the mage could feel the bile rise in his throat again. "Ozorne told me what he has planned for Daine and that she was residing in my old cell. There are tunnels that run under the palace are there not? Tunnels that lead to those cells?"

"There are but I would not suggest you go now." Lindhall eyed his friend critically. "You don't look like you have the strength to rescue the girl in your current condition, and we must first locate the dragon."

"Do you have a map of the tunnels I may borrow?"

"I do." The older mage seemed hesitant. "I will retrieve it for you once you have eaten and rested."

Numair got up and paced restlessly. "Lindhall, I don't have time for this. I can't leave Daine down there. You don't know what Ozorne has planned for her. I cannot allow him to…" He covered his mouth with a hand to stop himself from being sick again.

"You cannot attempt a rescue in broad daylight, and if you were thinking correctly, you would know you will have to retrieve both the girl and the dragon at the same time or risk losing one."

The mage looked despairingly at his old teacher and sat down heavily on the chair. "You're right. I can't lose the advantage we've gained by acting irrationally."

Lindhall patted his knee. "You've had a difficult few days, I imagine. Rest and food will help."

Numair finally allowed his old friend to prepare him a sleeping draft that would make him sleep until the evening. The master allowed him to rest on his bed and promised he would make arrangements while the younger mage rested.

The sun was setting when Numair woke from a dreamless sleep. The rest did make him feel significantly better and he was even able to keep some bread and butter down when it was offered. Lindhall had spoken to one of his contacts while the younger mage slept and had the slaves looking for Daine under the palace. They decided the best course of action was to confirm the location of Kitten before they could plan a successful rescue attempt. Lindhall offered Numair some clean clothes, but the younger mage rejected them wanting to keep his disguise for another night.

It was after dark when the mage crossed the river and headed towards the palace. The guard patrols around the menagerie were less frequent, and it only took several hours of careful surveillance before the mage found the opportunity to slip over the wall and into the animal menagerie. The nocturnal creatures watched him silently as he crept past their enclosures to the gates of the Immortal menagerie. Numair bent down to examine the lock which was magical in addition to being made of solid iron. He considered his options and decided the slower, stealthier approach was better than simply blasting it off.

Once inside, the mage spotted the cage containing the baby dragon and couldn't contain his joy as he ran over to her. Kitten seemed unharmed as Numair reached a hand through the bars and tried to nudge her awake.

"Kitten. Wake up, sweetheart, it's Numair. Kitten?"

He nudged her several more times, but the dragonet didn't even stir. Reaching out with his Gift, the mage carefully examined the young Immortal and found a powerful sleeping spell had been placed over her. He could easily break the spell, but it seemed cruel to allow the dragonet to wake only to find herself imprisoned. Numair went to the door of the cage and found a much more powerful lock had been placed on it. Ozorne had used blood magic on this lock which meant only the emperor, or his death would release it. The mage tugged on his nose as he considered his options and continued to examine the cage.

"What are you doing here, mage?" a metallic voice asked from across the menagerie. "Word is that you're dead."

Numair stood and slowly approached the cage containing Queen Barzha and her consort, Hebakh.

"I would prefer that word continue to believe I am dead," he said cautiously.

"We are no friends of the Emperor Mage. He will not hear it from us." Barzha cackled. "Besides, we would prefer to see his face when he discovers he has failed to kill you."

"I hope I can accommodate you," the mage responded politely.

"What are you doing here?" Hebakh hissed.

"I was trying to find a way to free Kitten from her confinement. I'm afraid the lock uses blood magic and only Ozorne can release these cages."

"Plans are in motion, mage. You would do well not to interfere in them." Barzha said conceitedly.

"What plans? What can you tell me?"

The queen and her consort shared a look and grinned wickedly. "We wouldn't want to spoil her plans. You should find somewhere to hide until the storm passes."

"That isn't very helpful," Numair muttered.

"Who says we should offer any help to you, mage? You and that girl have given our kind nothing but death!" Hebakh spat on the cage floor.

"I would apologise, but Stormwings have fought us and acted against their own natures. We were merely defending ourselves," the mage stated.

"Jokhun has a lot to answer for when I am freed." Barzha said gravely. "He will pay for the corruption he has brought upon our kind."

"You expect to be freed soon?" Numair questioned delicately.

"I have said too much," the queen bustled. "Leave now, mage. A patrol will pass by soon if you wish to remain unseen."

He bowed in thanks and returned to Kitten's cage. Numair kissed his fingers and stroked her muzzle gently. "I will return for you soon, sweetheart. I promise."

Silently the mage left the Immortals menagerie and replaced the lock on the gates. It took longer to avoid the guard patrols and cross the river than he would have liked. The sun was rising when Numair returned to the university and was safely hidden in Lindhall's rooms once again.