Hand raised, Venette Martain frowned at her, quelling. “I expect so. As I said, he’s sentimental. Now hold your tongue. You’ll shortly be leaving for the Danfey estate. Don’t think I won’t be kept apprised of your conduct there. Don’t think Sallis Arkley isn’t itching for an excuse to make a bloodthirsty example of you. Behave yourself, Mage Lindin, and it might be you can escape this regrettable affair unscathed.” Another edged smile. “Well. Almost.”

As the chamber’s heavy door banged shut behind her visitor, Barl pulled her knees tight to her chest and let her aching head drop. The binding incant crawled and burned beneath her skin.

Oh, Remmie. Remmie. What do I do now?

Eventually the stone chamber’s door opened again, and the sentinel mages escorted her along a maze of glimlit stone corridors and up short flights of stone stairs until, at last, they reached a stout, iron-bound door.

Standing on the other side of it, in a quiet, walled courtyard, Barl saw shimmering in the distance the topmost sunlit spires of Elvado’s Hall of Knowledge. So, she’d been spirited away from the town’s bustling centre. The Council was making sure there’d be no inconvenient witnesses to her banishment.

“Come along,” her male guard said, touching her arm. “There’s a carriage waiting.”

“Why a carriage? Why not just—”

“Bound mages can’t use travel incants,” the woman said. “Now come.”

Both mages turned for the warded door in the wall. Experimenting, Barl stood her ground.

“I don’t want to go.”

The male mage turned back to glare at her with slitted grey eyes. “The Council’s not interested in what you want,” he said, and snapped his fingers. “Come.”

The binding incant leapt to blazing life beneath her skin. Blinking away tears of pain, Barl tried to resist its implacable compulsion to obey… but it hurt too much. Welts were blossoming beneath her crumpled linen tunic, she could feel the hot bite of them like the strike of a poisoned lash.

“Don’t be a fool, Mage Lindin,” said the woman. She was young, not much older than her prisoner. If she felt any sympathy, she kept it hidden. “You’re only going to make matters worse.”

“How?” Barl demanded, stumbling forward. “And how can you support this? The Council’s as good as torturing me. Is this what Dorana’s come to? Are we no better than Ranoush?”

“It’s not our place to question the Council of Mages,” the woman said. “Be quiet, Mage Lindin, and do as you’re told.”