“Sir?” For a moment Rumm looked puzzled, as though he’d never heard the name. Then his expression cleared. “Sir, she’s about. Somewhere. She knows her duties. I leave her to tend them. You’ll find her dusting or polishing. Doing laundry. Or outside with the chickens. As I say, she’s about.”

He needed to see her. It wasn’t wise, but he didn’t care. Venette was right, curse her. Barl Lindin and Maris could not live beneath the same roof. He’d have to send her away. But before he did…

“I’ll have words with her, Rumm,” he said, cool and distant again, as was proper. “If Ranmer wants me, see I’m told of it without delay.”

“Sir,” said Rumm, bowing, and took himself and his dying flowers away.

Morgan glanced after him, surprised by a sudden surge of affection. For a servant? He was doddled. Shrugging that aside, he reached out with his mage-sense, searching for Barl… and couldn’t find her.

Though it was impossible, she was gone.

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-one

Breaking Morgan Danfey’s attic door ward was no more difficult than unpicking the golden threads of his binding. Not now that she had his measure.

Even so, Barl couldn’t help feeling a thrill as the last intricate counter-cant surrendered to her meddling. Nothing and no-one, unranked Barl Lindin, proving herself the best mage in Dorana. What a pity she couldn’t shout her triumph from the rooftops. But this unlikely talent would have to remain a secret, even from Remmie.

She was meant to be in the poultry coop, scrubbing filthy perches. Doubtless she should feel ashamed, that she’d crept up here the moment word spread to the servants of Lord Danfey’s collapse.

Yes, I should. But I don’t.

She would never feel guilty about magework again.

Smiling, she eased herself into the attic and closed its door behind her, confident she could reactivate the ward once she’d poked about in the councillor’s workroom. Probably she could even rebind herself… but she wasn’t prepared to take such a chance. No, she’d run weeping to Morgan Danfey upon his return from the country. Show him herself how his binding had unravelled and beg him to reinstate it before the Council found out. He’d never dream it was her doing. She’d be perfectly safe.

Yes, and thinking of his return she had to remember that must be soon. Rumm would surely send word to him once the pother had been and given his opinion of Lord Danfey’s health. Which meant she didn’t have long before she risked discovery.

“So hurry up,” she muttered. “Don’t waste the little time you have.”