He didn’t answer. After the dead calf, and ruined Dorana, he owed her no apology for that.

“Never mind,” she muttered. “Remmie, they might have turned you away but they will see me. Especially after I’ve seen Venette Martain first. Now, please, get dressed. We haven’t much time.”

“Fine,” he said, standing. “But either close your eyes or turn your back, because I’m about to be naked and we’re not little children any more.”

“I can wait outside.”

“No. You can wait here.”

Hurt, she looked up at him. “Does that mean you don’t trust me?”

“It means you’re Barl Lindin,” he said, after a moment. “And whether I can trust her, well, that remains to be seen.”

Faced with yet another pair of duty mages, these ones guarding the Council chamber’s closed, imposing doors, Barl took hold of her fraying temper and for the fourth time repeated her claim.

“I am Barl Lindin, with urgent news for Lady Martain. I am told by her husband she is here, in Council session. Let me pass.”

“Barl Lindin?” The duty mage on the right narrowed his eyes. “The same Barl Lindin who—”

“Yes. Let me pass.”

The duty mage’s chin jerked at Remmie, who stood beside her silent and watchful and just a little bit unnerved. “Who is he?”

“My brother.” She smiled, not quite pleasantly. “You know who I am. You know what I did. Do you think I’ll not do it again if you persist in this obstruction?”

After an exchange of glances, the two duty mages stood aside.

“Enter the chamber at your own peril, Mage Lindin.”

Ignoring them, she looked at Remmie. “Don’t forget, these councillors aren’t our friends. Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. Don’t give them any excuses. They’ll bind you as soon as look at you, just because we share the same name.”

The duty mage who’d recognised her swung open the doors. Barl took a deep breath and led the way into the chamber.

I’m not afraid. I’m not. These mages do not frighten me.

But her heart was beating too fast, and she was glad that Remmie walked with her. Even a Remmie whose faith in her she’d destroyed.

The whole Council was there, seated around the book-scattered table, and with them two mages she’d never seen before. Both women, both powerful. One was quite young, weary, her linen tunic stained with a rainbow of catalysts. The other not yet middle-aged, dressed in fine silks and jewellery, and her plain face was stamped with authority and a formidable intelligence.

As the doors closed behind her and Remmie, Lord Varen stood, his aged face darkening with anger.

“What are you doing here? How did you gain admittance to the Hall, let alone this Council chamber?”