“It’s done,” she said, letting the book fall to her lap. She was sat on the edge of the bed, more books piled beside her. “Morgan’s bound, and his creatures are bound with him. There’s something in his magework that ties them together. They won’t break free.”

Her brother stood by the window, his similar face hardened into deep and difficult lines. “So you claim,” he retorted, as though he’d said it before and was tired of repeating himself. “But you can’t promise that, can you?”

Barl looked at him, her eyes cold. “Yes. I can.”

“Your magework continues unaffected, then?” Dreen asked, sounding brittle.

“Apparently.”

Dreen held out her scorched hand. “Then you must be the only mage in Dorana so favoured.”

An uncomfortable silence, thick with pain and anger and unspoken recriminations. Then Barl put the book aside.

“With Morgan and his creatures bound, we’re safe. So we must—”

“Safe?” said Dreen, incredulous. “We’re all the rest of us turned into cripples, Elvado—Dorana—is rotten with mage-mist and our belligerent neighbours even now sharpen their swords! How is that safe?”

“She’s right, Mage Lindin,” Venette said. “My magework might be doubtful, but I can still feel the spreading rot beneath Dorana’s surface.”

“A rot I can heal,” said Barl. “But not on my own.” She gestured at the books around her. “And these grimoires I took from Morgan’s library won’t be enough assistance.”

Her brother stared at her, then laughed. “You’re mad, Barl. He is bound and he is staying bound. But I fear even that might not hold him. You should wall him up in his family’s tomb and ward the entire Danfey estate untouchable until the end of time.”

“Which would be even crueller than killing him,” Barl said sharply. “And if you think I could do that, then you don’t know me at all.”

“Barl—” His face anguished, her brother sounded close to naked grief. “He’s not a man any more, he’s a beast—as dangerous as those monstrosities he created. We can’t take the chance he’ll—”

“No, Remmie!” Barl said, her voice ragged. “Justice save me, how often must we argue this? Until we can no longer look each other in the eye? Until I hate you, and you hate me, and we have turned each other into orphans?”

Remmie Lindin was the first to shift his gaze. Seeming heartbroken at her victory, Barl turned to Dreen. “With the Council of Mages all but destroyed, the General Council is Dorana’s only hope of leadership. I can take you home, so you and your colleagues can quell any panic.”