"I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour, Captain Barran. But I'm afraid this cannot wait," Rothen removed his cloak and rearranged his purple robes, taking a seat in front of the captain's overcrowded desk.

"Not at all, Lord Rothen. We're usually at work until the morning. I've been putting our best men on the night shift ever since these murders started, and I prefer staying with them," replied Captain Barran. "I'm afraid we only have raka to offer you…"

"I won't stay long," Rothen replied, politely waving away the young officer who brought a cup. "I wanted to come to you directly as I believe tonight may be a good opportunity to act."

Captain Barran's face grew serious and he leaned forward. "Act on what, my Lord?"

Rothen glanced nervously around the room, but the only other person in the captain's room was the young officer, who was now standing guard at the door, looking straight ahead.

"Some evidence has recently come to light about the murders that suggest there is magic involved, is that right?" Rothen began cautiously.

Captain Barran frowned. "I usually discuss our progress with the Administrator. Has he sent you tonight in his stead?"

"I have some information that the Administrator may not have shared with you. He and I have… disagreed on how much the city guard should know. Unlike him, I believe you cannot be expected to do this dangerous work without full knowledge of what you're up against," Rothen replied.

The captain's eyebrows raised slightly at Rothen's words, then he looked troubled. Rothen suspected he had been right to take this approach: the captain could not admit it to his men, but he knew the Guild had been putting the city guard at an unfair disadvantage, sending them after killers with magical abilities.

"Yes," Barran sighed. "There is evidence of magic at work. My guard are ready to face the danger, but our usual methods are not yeilding results. We know how to locate, chase and capture; but a murderer who can levitate, unlock cells, and kill without a weapon? Well…"

"Indeed. It is hardly fair you are being kept in the dark for reasons to do with… Guild politics," Rothen replied carefully.

Barran looked at him silently. "I do not have the authority to question any Guild magicians, Lord Rothen," he said quietly.

"I'm not asking you to," Rothen said, leaning forward. "I am only here to encourage you to send men, tonight, to the bolhouse on the market street of Northside. I believe you will find a Guild magician there, and the Thief who has been doing his bidding in the city. A magician whom I know to be a criminal."

"This is a serious accusation, Lord Rothen. If one of your own is suspect, shouldn't this be a matter for the higher magicians?"

Rothen lowered his voice. "I'm afraid the magician in question is in a position of greater authority than the higher magicians. As I said, Guild politics make it difficult for him to be held to account without proof. Proof which you will find tonight in Northside."

Captain Barran, like all high ranking men in the city guard, had received some training on the structure of the Guild and its hierarchy. "To my knowledge, only the Administrator and the High Lord outrank the higher magicians," he said slowly.

Rothen looked at him meaningfully. "Yes. The Administrator is currently on Guild grounds; I saw him return to his office as I was leaving to come here tonight."

A shocked silence followed the clear implications of this statement. Barran had rarely had an audience with the High Lord. Though a decade younger than himself, he had found him a mysterious and intimidating man. Rumours of his power had reached his ears, and he did not relish the thought of a confrontation with him.

"I will, of course, uphold my duty to investigate. But as I said, Lord Rothen – I do not have the authority to arrest a Guild magician," Barran replied after some thought. "Or the men to risk an open confrontation with one," he added.

"A confrontation is not necessary. Merely witnesses," Rothen replied, his eyes urging. "The Guild can then pursue the matter, when evidence is at hand."

"What can we expect to witness, if I take my men to Northside tonight?" Barran asked.

Rothen had a flicker of doubt rise within him. He hoped the information that his contact in the city had provided was true; that Sonea's old friend, Cery, was now a Thief, and according to recent rumours in the underworld, he had been disposing of corpses for a new, mysterious client in black robes.

Either way, Rothen knew he had to give the captain the impression of certainty. "I have reason to believe this Guild magician is the murderer you are looking for. And at the very least, that he will be meeting with a Thief tonight, to plan his next move. Either of which will be enough for us to bring him to trial."

"I see," Barran replied, scrutinising Rothen's face. Rothen held his gaze steadily. The captain nodded and stood up. "Summon Captain Vorel," he said to the young officer at the door, who saluted and left.

Rothen stood up and refastened his cloak over his robes. "Thank you, Captain Barran. I assure you this will not be in vain. And one last thing – the Administrator and the High Lord are old friends. How can I say… well, there could be a conflict of interest. If you find what I suspect you will, please report to me first."

"I understand, Lord Rothen. Thank you for your visit," Barran held out his hand, which Lord Rothen shook.

As Rothen stepped out onto the night, he heard quick orders being issued among the guards. Getting into the Guild carriage waiting for him, he let out a breath he wasn't even aware of holding.

His own daring frightened him a little, but he reassured himself that he had been right to do this. All I need is for the city guard to confirm they have seen Akkarin in the city with the Thief tonight, he thought. When he is brought to trial with proof of associating with a criminal, I will offer to be mind-read. And then everyone will know we have a black magician in our midst.

-

"Sonea. Sonea, breathe. Breathe. Look at me,"

She realised Akkarin was holding her arms tightly. Taking shallow breaths, Sonea reluctantly met his gaze. He reached out and she felt him gently stroke her cheek. The sensation helped bring the dark room into focus. Her gaze slid down to the Ichani lying on the floor, his eyes glassy – dead. Killed. With black magic. Sonea was suddenly aware of the unusual amount of magical power coursing through her body, and felt dizzy.

"Look at me," Akkarin whispered again, this time bringing some command into his tone. It helped jerk Sonea out of her trace.

"It is not an easy choice, the one you've made," he said, "but you will learn to trust yourself." She gazed through the skylight and saw that the full moon was now directly above them. Then Akkarin stepped close and gently prised the Sachakan dagger from her hand, wiped it on the Ichani's cloak, and put it back into its sheath on Sonea's leather belt. When Sonea still made no sign of movement, he embraced her firmly.

Sonea clung on to him until she felt the dizziness fading away. Then she pulled away a little, gazing into Akkarin's dark eyes, which were alight with intensity and concern. Forgetting where she was and who was watching, she suddenly kissed him deeply, as if the kiss could cleanse away what she had just done. Akkarin returned the pressure of her lips, his hands gripping her body close to his.

A clatter and a quietly muttered curse brought their attention back to the here and now. Cery and Gol were trying to climb down from their hiding spot in the ceiling, but the magical battle with the Ichani had damaged the structure. Gol was clinging on to a beam that was beginning to creak under his weight.

Akkarin created a disc of power directly beneath them and they stepped onto it, looking like they were floating in mid-air. The disc slowly brought them down onto the floor.

Sonea avoided Cery's eyes. She could feel them burning into her.

"I'll signal when it's clear below," Gol muttered to Cery, then headed downstairs to alert their contact behind the bar and get all the customers to leave.

There was nothing for the three of them to do but wait, the corpse of the Ichani between them. Akkarin bent down and searched the Ichani's clothing. She kept her eyes steadily on the square of moonlight on the floorboards, even though she could feel Cery's eyes on her. She had just made her first kill. That was hard enough to process. She couldn't also face whatever Cery's eyes were saying after witnessing her and Akkarin together.

"There," Akkarin breathed as he found a blood gem, clasped tight in the dead Ichani's palm. He used a scrap he tore from his cloak to pick up the gem, then smashed it with the force of magic against the floor.

"One of Dakova's," he murmured to Sonea as he stood and returned to her side. Cery was looking at him coolly. Akkarin returned his stare, reaching for Sonea's hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

"Sonea –" Cery began quietly, but at that moment Gol swiftly entered the room.

"City guard," he whispered hurriedly. "Downstairs, and covering the front and back doors."

Akkarin and Cery both moved quickly in response to the news. Akkarin levitated the Ichani's corpse, and Cery silently locked the door with his metal picks.

"We must leave via the roof. Is there another entrance to the underground passages nearby?" Akkarin asked Cery.

Cery cast Sonea another quick glance, then strode to the window and peered outside into the night. "Yes. Cellar of the building across the street."

Akkarin nodded and pulled on Sonea's hand, leading her to the window of the attic room. He levitated all four of them out of the window and to the roof of the opposite building, from where they could see guards shouting orders at the entrance of the bolhouse below. They crawled one by one through an open window and into the deserted store room on the top floor.

Akkarin sent magic beyond the door to sense of anyone was present, but Cery pulled out his picks and unlocked the door roughly. "No one here. Belongs to an acquaintance, out of town this week," he whispered by way of explanation. They all went down the deserted staircase swiftly and quietly, the corpse floating in front of them, until they were in the basement of what looked like an apothecary.

Cery approached a dusty cabinet full of labelled glass bottles, then pushed the cabinet to one side, revealing a small doorway. Darkness lay beyond it.

He looked up at Akkarin and nodded. "Take the first right turn and you'll recognise the passage you're in. The usual route from there will lead you back to the Guild."

The two men held each other's eyes steadily for a moment, then Akkarin nodded. "Thank you, Ceryni. The body?"

"Will be disposed of in the usual way," he replied. Akkarin placed the floating corpse onto the floor, then shook Cery's hand. The sounds of guards barking orders nearby reached their ears. "Go," Cery urged.

Sonea still didn't trust herself to speak, much less look up in case she saw the corpse. But as Akkarin disappeared down the passageway, she grasped Cery's hand in both of her own and looked into his face, her eyes expressing an unspoken thanks.

Cery's eyebrows knotted in emotion but he nodded firmly, disentangling his hands from hers. She turned around and stepped into the passages in the direction of Akkarin's weak globelight, her head spinning with emotions.

––––––

"Captain? The team await your orders."

Captain Barran tore his eyes away from the attic window of the bolhouse on Northside. He and his personal bodyguard had been using the first-floor bedroom of the deserted apothecary as a lookout while his team of men conducted a very loud, and obvious, raid of the bolhouse opposite.

But from his hiding spot, he had seen exactly what Lord Rothen had warned him about. Four figures and one corpse floated, with magic, from the attic of the bolhouse to the roof of the apothecary. He had glimpsed their faces as they had swiftly walked down the staircase and past the open door of the dark room Barran was hiding in.

There was no mistaking the elegant strides of the tall man whose cloak didn't quite hide the black robes, nor the lithe steps of the small man with the two daggers that featured a little ceryni on either hilt. The former could only be the High Lord, and the latter he knew as the Thief who controlled this patch of territory in Northside. He had never before seen the large man, but suspected the short, black-haired woman may be the infamous Sonea, the magician from the slums that the dwells loved so much.

Barran signalled to his bodyguard to back away and check that the ground floor of the apothecary was clear. When the young officer returned with a nod, he headed downstairs and out onto the street, striding towards the bolhouse to rejoin his men. He had to question the owner and customers so as not to raise suspicion, but he hardly needed the information. It looked like Lord Rothen had alerted him to all he needed to know.