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shortages as yet, and Lord Sechaveh has been keeping the matter quiet. So far as the city’s populace knows, a few mages are dead, nothing more. Even our ambassador hasn’t succeeded in learning much else. But she believes Ninavel is the real target, and not Alathia.”
    Could Marten be right? No. This had to be some ploy of Ruslan’s meant to distract the Council until it was too late. Kiran rubbed his head, where an ache was building.
    Dev slouched against the bench with a sharp, sarcastic grin. “Now you think it’s Ninavel in trouble and not your precious border, the Council’s gonna just sit back and watch Sechaveh scramble, is that it?”
    “You don’t understand,” Marten said. “It doesn’t matter if the damage to our wards is merely a byproduct of someone’s spellcasting against Ninavel. We can’t afford to let anything disrupt them.”
    He turned to Kiran, grave and intent. “The Council has authorized me to take a team to Ninavel to investigate. Kiran, I’d like to bring you with us.”
    Shock set Kiran’s heart hammering. He shook his head in mute, stunned denial. Return to the city Ruslan called home? How could Marten even think to ask it of him?
    Marten said, “Kiran, I will not force you to go. But if you help us stop this disruption to our wards, then upon your return, the Council will release Dev from his sentence.”
    Kiran wanted so badly to earn Dev’s freedom. But to face Ruslan again…no. He couldn’t. The very idea congealed his blood and left him trembling. Yet shame squeezed his heart at his cowardice. Dev had taken on both Simon Levanian and Ruslan without a single glimmer of mage talent to help him, all for Kiran’s sake.
    “So I’m your gods-damned carrot again?” Dev snapped. “Tell me you’re joking, Martennan. Take him to Ninavel? In what taphtha vision does that make sense? Ruslan’ll show up in a heartbeat, and I may not know much about magic, but I’m pretty sure he can kick your ass.”
    Marten said, “It’s true that blood magic is the most powerful way for a single mage to cast a spell.” Kiran started a protest, and Marten held up a hand. “Yes, Kiran, I know your channeled spells involve two mages, but only the focus mage is actively casting. The channeler’s role is essentially passive. In any case, my point is that Alathian magic is not designed to be cast by a single mage. Even blood magic can be countered by more subtle methods if enough mages are working in tandem.”
    “Even if you could counter channeled spells, what of my mark-bond?” Kiran demanded. “The moment I pass your border wards, Ruslan can control me. Unless…wait, you’ve found a way to dissolve the bond?” Kiran leaped to his feet, hope a fire in his veins.
    Marten hastened to shake his head, his expression regretful. “I’m sorry, Kiran, but no. We haven’t found a way to break the binding, not without killing you.”
    Kiran sank back onto the bench. Of course the Alathians hadn’t found a way. Foolish of him to imagine they could discover a method so quickly, when every scholar agreed the mark-bond was unbreakable while both mages lived.
    “We can’t break it, but we can prevent him from using it,” Marten said.
    Against his will, interest sparked. “Truly, you can block the bond? How?” The kizhenvya amulet Kiran had worn to flee Ninavel had protected him for a few days, but Ruslan had come terribly close to worming his way past the amulet’s spellwork before Kiran crossed the Alathian border. If the Alathians knew some more permanent method, perhaps he wouldn’t have to be so dependent on their border wards for protection.
    “Let me show you.” Marten drew out an amulet on a thin silver chain.
    Kiran leaned forward. The amulet was made entirely of twisted strands of metal, with no gemstones or crystals set amidst them. Even more strange, the individual strands appeared to be of different metals, which Kiran would have thought impractical for proper pattern