A cry for help roused Lidia from where she lay, curled at the base of the rubble. Her limbs were shaking, smudged with dust and dirt and streaked with a number of red-pink scratches.
She tried to answer the cry with a shout, but convulsed with several coughs. Dust coated the inside of her throat. She eased her eyes open. When she and her companions had emerged a few minutes ago, her sight had been immediately overwhelmed by the noonday sun. She was still half dazzled, but the brightness was beginning to resolve itself into shapes.
She had fallen into a stone stadium, but instead of spectators lining its walls, there were a number of doors and windows, with walkways on each of the four levels. A small crowd had gathered at the spot where the rubble spilled, retreating when she had tumbled down to them.
Lidia looked up the pile of jumbled, pale yellow bricks behind her. From where she was, she couldn't see the top, but she knew who was still there: her friend Imoen, her captor Irenicus, and a number of wizards in dark cowls. Before she fell, the top of the pile had been filled with rumbles and chants and displays of magical power. Now everything was eerily silent, but she couldn't say why. All she knew for certain was that Imoen didn't stand a chance without help.
Lidia knew that her own skills would be nearly useless in the fight above. She began to pull herself to her feet, leaning forward to climb back up.
"Halt!" someone bellowed. "Hands on your head!"
She stopped, leaning back on her knees, and coughed a few more times. Placing her hands on her head, and not daring to make any other movement or sound, she turned towards the voice.
Two guards advanced towards her. They were in full mail and hauberk, wearing black livery: a pearl ringed with six golden stars. They stopped just out of striking range, halberds tilted towards her.
One of them said, his voice softer: "Good. Easy does it." He held position while the other guard strode forward and helped himself to the sword in its scabbard upon her belt. He studied her from beneath his helmet, looked towards the top of the rubble, and called out, "Wizard, here's another one for you."
A figure in a dark grey cloak floated down from the top of the rubble, landing softly upon the basalt pavers. Up close, the wizard was clearly a woman, and perhaps an elf, to judge by her slender frame. Long bell sleeves hid her hands, a hood the top of her face. Without a glimpse of olive skin about the throat, she might have been mistaken for a specter.
"This one cast no spells," she said, her voice a contralto. "We have those involved. Deal with her as you see fit."
Lidia opened her mouth, swallowed a few times, then tried again. "Wait," she called out.
The wizard stopped without looking at her.
"My friend was with me. You took her?"
"Yes. Only we and those we sanction may practice the arcane arts here." The wizard started walking again.
"Please, I can explain - "
The wizard didn't acknowledge her. A wide white halo grew out of her hand, crackling and casting a glimmering veil within its ring. When it reached her height, she stepped through. Both she and the halo disappeared from view.
"Keep your hands on your head," the guard said. "Your bill's not paid yet, friend."
Lidia stopped moving her hands. The crowd was beginning to leave, now that the spectacle was over, but another man in the same livery strode forward through them. The guards saluted him with an arm crossed over their breast.
"At ease," the third man said. Unlike the other two guards, his helmet covered neither his face nor his keen, dark eyes. "What goes on here? I heard some mages were causing a disturbance."
"The Cowled Wizards spirited them away," one of the guards said, then gestured to Lidia. "But we have someone who might know something."
"Good. Take her to the garrison." The guards' superior turned and left, calling three more guards towards him. "Secure this area until more help arrives. Someone might still be buried alive under there."
Both the guards raised her to her feet, bound her hands in front with a rope, put a blindfold over her eyes. One of them - she suspected the deeper-voiced guard - roughly pushed her forward. The ill-fitting leather breastplate she wore absorbed most of the blow. Lidia stumbled, but managed to stay standing.
"Don't like it?" The softer-voiced guard talked as the three of them started walking. "We've got to protect ourselves, but if you give us a show of good faith, we can make it easier."
"I've already given up my sword," she said.
The softer-voiced guard continued, "I mean that we don't get paid nearly as well as we ought, if you get my drift. Help us and we'll help you."
She glared towards the voice. "You're joking."
"That's the way here," the deeper-voiced guard said. "Gentle treatment and answered questions will cost you. We can work something out."
"What little I have wouldn't satisfy you," she said.
She felt another hard push. She broadened her stance to keep herself balanced.
She didn't speak for the rest of the time, and instead spent the next half hour focusing on clues that pointed out to where she might be; it also kept her mind off her fatigue and the stinging scratches on her arms and legs. The overpowering smell of spices eventually gave way to the more familiar smell of animals and people passing by on the street. As time wore on, she could have sworn she heard the sound of water.
Eventually, the guards stopped and turned into a building. She heard their steps on a wooden floor, and a heavy door shut behind them.
"Will the holding cells do?" the softer-voiced guard asked.
"She won't start anything," the other said gruffly. "And everywhere else here is full. They'll do."
She found herself half guided, half shoved through a door. Even from behind her blindfold, everything darkened. They let her go, left the cell, and shut the door. The steps began to fade, until they paused earlier than they should have, and then grew louder again as they returned.
The door opened again. She pulled herself up to her full height, not flinching when one of the guards drew closer.
The softer-voiced guard said, "You're lucky Aegisfield is coming." He loosened the knots on her hands and on the back of her head, and then removed the blindfold and bindings. Just as quickly as he did, he turned on his heel and left, the door closing behind him.