Left hand raised to trace the first sigil of his travel incant, Councillor Danfey hesitated. “One last question, Mage Lindin. Your sister. Should I be wary of an outraged suitor descending upon me to champion her cause?”

“A suitor, sir?” Remmie said, startled. “No. Barl’s never had time for courting. Magic’s always come first.”

Another indifferent nod. “I see.”

And with no more questions, without a word of farewell, Councillor Danfey recited his travel incant, and vanished.

With no heart for harmless carousing down at The Greased Pig, Remmie lost himself in making lesson plans for the upcoming school week. When it was time for supper he made leek and bean soup and forced it down, his appetite half-hearted. A sleepless night followed. The next day he taught class, short-tempered, and when that was done he went to see Master Arndel. The Artisan Master was already mixed up in Barl’s dilemma. Surely it couldn’t hurt to talk of it with him. Anyway, he had to take the chance.

“Imprisoned?” Arndel sat back in his privy chamber chair, a gloating satisfaction lighting his eyes. “And how is that my concern, Mage Lindin? Your sister has nothing to do with me any more, and may justice be praised for that.”

“She’s not just imprisoned,” Remmie said, fighting to hold onto his temper. He was beginning to see why Barl had loathed the man. “She’s bound. Master Arndel, you know what that means.”

Arndel shrugged. “It means that at long last she’s been put in her place.”

Resisting the urge to thump his fist to the man’s desk, Remmie instead gentled his tone. “Sir, there’s no need for you to tell me my sister can be aggravating. I grew up with her. But can’t you set aside any personal mislikings and remember her talent? Will you sit there and tell me you’re willing to see that ruined?” Out of spite, out of meanness? “You can’t.”

It was Arndel who thumped the desk. “Mage Lindin, I’ll sit here and tell you that whatever happens to that troublemaker is no trouble of mine. Whatever misery she’s in, we both know she’s brought it on herself.”

“You’re too modest,” Remmie snapped. “You did your part, in writing to the Council. In complaining of her to the Artisans” Guild. With your weight thrown against her, what chance did she have?”

“You insolent pup!” Arndel leapt to his feet. “You’re as bad as she is. Arrogance is clearly a Lindin family trait. Your sister came within a hair’s-breadth of ruining my reputation, my artisanry. I’m glad the Council’s bound her. I hope she stays bound the rest of her days. Mages like your sister are a menace to Dorana. Now get out, before I put pen to paper and complain of you to the Council.”