Harrin's knife clattered to the floor. Cery leapt toward Burril, who turned just in time to meet the attack. Still wiping at his eyes, Harrin dropped into a crouch and groped for his knife.
Pushing Cery away, Burril reached into his coat, made another abrupt gesture and again, a stream of red dust flew from his hands. Cery ducked too late. His face contorted with pain, he staggered backward as Burril advanced on him.
'He'll kill them!' Donia cried.
Reaching down, Sonea grabbed another wooden slat. She closed her eyes a moment, trying to remember what she had done in the North Square. Gripping it tightly, she gathered all her anger and fear. Concentrating on the slat, she hurled it at Burril with all her strength.
He grunted as it struck his back and turned to glare at her. Then he threw up his arms as Donia began to throw anything she could get hold of.
'Use your magic,' Donia urged as Sonea joined her.
'I tried. It's not working.'
'Try again,' Donia panted.
Burril reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny packet. Recognizing it, Sonea felt a surge of anger. She braced herself to throw the slat in her hands, then hesitated.
Perhaps she was concentrating too much on throwing hard. Magic was not a physical thing. She watched as Donia hurled a box at Burril. No need to throw anything herself...
Focusing on the box, she gave it a mental push, willing it to shoot forward and strike Burril hard enough to knock him out.
She felt something loosen inside her mind.
A flash of light lit the room and the box burst into flame. Burril yelled as it roared toward him, then ducked out of the way. It clattered across the floor and came to rest in a puddle, the water sizzling as it evaporated.
The packet of papea dust fell to the floor. Burril stared at her. Smiling, Sonea stooped to pick up another slat, straightened, then narrowed her eyes at him.
All color drained from his face. Sparing no glance at his allies, he leapt for the door and staggered away.
Sonea heard a thin noise beside her, and turned to find Evin standing, conscious, only a few paces away. He took two steps backward, then darted for the door. Seeing their companions leaving, the other two youths scrambled to their feet and followed.
As their footsteps faded, Harrin's laughter filled the room. He rose, swayed, then walked carefully to the doorway. 'What's the problem?' he shouted. 'Did you think she'd just
Grinning, he turned to blink at Sonea. 'Hai! Well done!'
'Nice finish,' Cery agreed. He rubbed at his eyes and grimaced. Slipping a hand into his coat, he pulled out a small flask and began washing his eyes with the contents. Donia hurried to Harrin's side and examined his wounds.
'You need these dressed. You hurt, Cery?'
'No.' Cery handed her the flask.
Donia began washing Harrin's face. His skin was red and blotchy. 'You'll be sore for days. Do you think you could heal him, Sonea?'
Sonea frowned and shook her head. 'I don't know. That wood wasn't supposed to start burning. What if I try to heal Harrin and burn him instead?'
Donia looked at Sonea with wide eyes. 'That's an awful thought.'
'You need to practice,' Cery said.
Sonea turned to regard him. 'I need time to practice, and a place where I won't get anyone's attention when I do.'
He pulled a cloth out of his coat and wiped his daggers clean. 'Once this gets around, people will be too scared to try and catch you. That'll give us some rope.'
'It won't,' Harrin said. 'You can bet Burril and the others won't tell anyone about this. Even if they do, some will think they can do better.'
Cery frowned, then cursed.
'Then we better get away from here real quick,' Donia said. 'Where next, Cery?'
He scratched his head, then smiled. 'Who's got money?'
Harrin and Donia looked at Sonea.
'It's not mine,' she protested. 'It's Jonna and Rand's.'
'I'm sure they wouldn't mind you spending it to save your life,' Donia told her.
'And they'd think you stupid if you didn't,' Cery added.
Sighing, Sonea reached inside her shirt for the buckle of her money pouch. 'I suppose, if I ever get out of this mess, I can pay them back.' She looked at Cery. 'You better find them soon.'
'I will,' he assured her. 'Just as soon as you're safe. For now, I think we should split up. We'll meet again in an hour. I have a place in mind where no one will think to look for you. We can only stay for a few hours, but it will give us a chance to figure out where to go next.'
Chapter 7
Dangerous Alliances
Returning from the stables alone, Rothen slowed as he reached the gardens. The air was cold, but not uncomfortably so, and the stillness was welcome after the bustle of the city. He drew in a deep breath and sighed.
Though he had interviewed countless informers, few had given useful information. Most informers had come in the hope that some piece of information, no matter how irrelevant, would lead to her capture and their reward. A few had come simply to air whatever grievance they had with the Guild.
Others, however, had reported seeing lone girls hiding from sight. After a few journeys into the slums, it became clear that there were plenty of street urchins hiding away in dark corners. Conversations with the other magicians who were interviewing the informers revealed many similar disappointments.
It would be so much easier if the reward notices had included a likeness of the girl. He thought wistfully of his late mentor, Lord Margen, who had tried without success to invent a way to transfer mental images to paper. Dannyl had taken up the challenge, but had made little progress.
He wondered how Dannyl was faring. A brief mental conversation with his friend had revealed that the younger magician was alive and unharmed, and would return at sunset. They could not refer to the true purpose behind Dannyl's visit to the slums, as it was always possible that other magicians would overhear their conversation. Nevertheless, Rothen had sensed a promising smugness in his friend's communication.
'... know ... Rothen ...'
Hearing his own name spoken, Rothen looked up. The thick foliage of the garden hedges hid the speaker, but Rothen was sure he had recognized the voice.
'... these things cannot be hurried.'
This voice belonged to Administrator Lorlen. The pair was drawing closer to Rothen's position. Guessing that they would pass close by, Rothen moved into one of the small courtyards in the gardens. He sat down on a bench seat and listened carefully as the conversation became clearer.
'I have noted your claim, Fergun,' Lorlen said patiently. 'I can do no more. When she is found the matter will be dealt with in the usual manner. For now, I am only concerned with her capture.'
'But must we go through all this ... this
