“I would, sir, yes,” he admitted. “But not for fame and fortune, Councillor, though I know it might seem so. She’s hungry for the work. She always has been. And she frets and chafes herself when she feels she’s held back.”

“And that would be why she pressed for entrance to the College?”

Remmie leaned forward. “Yes, sir. That’s exactly why.”

“And do you understand, Mage Lindin, that there never was a question of her gaining admittance?”

“Because our family’s unranked?” he said, and was surprised to feel a twist in his gut. Perhaps it was the way the councillor asked the question, a smooth kind of impatience in him that spoke of unquestioning advantage. “I did tell her, Councillor Danfey. I told her ’til I was blue in the face. Begged her to abandon such a foolish notion. She wouldn’t listen. It was her dream, you see. And Barl never was one for giving up on a dream. Please, Councillor. Where is she? Why hasn’t she come home?”

Instead of answering, Councillor Danfey uncoiled from his chair and paced to the window. Arms folded, a singing tension in his back, he stared at the garden. “Your sister’s in a great deal of trouble, I’m afraid. Formal complaints of her conduct have been lodged by one Artisan Master Arndel, and the Guild of Artisans. Worse than that, she deliberately used magic against another mage. As you’re doubtless aware, that is a privilege reserved to my Council.”

Remmie felt the words strike him like lightning, searing and cruel. But that’s a capital crime. “There must be some mistake. Barl’s got a temper, I don’t deny it, but she would never—”

“I’m afraid the facts are not in dispute,” said the councillor. “Indeed, your sister freely admitted what she’d done.”

“You’re saying Barl killed someone?”

Councillor Danfey turned, swiftly. “No. She merely bruised him. But the end result is the same. She raised her hand to harm him.”

Dazed, Remmie pressed a hand to his face. Of all the things he’d imagined, he’d not imagined this. “Is she condemned?”

“To death? No,” said the councillor. “She’s bound and under house arrest on my family’s estate.”

He didn’t try to hide his relief. When he could trust himself to speak again, he lowered his hand. “And is that your doing, sir?”

“I spoke for her,” the councillor said, nodding. “She was foolish, and is certainly misguided. But there are foolish, misguided ranked mages who have found themselves in strife and weren’t expected to forfeit their lives. It would not have been justice to expect it of her.”

Remmie found his feet. “Can I see her?”

“No.”