“Mage Lindin is right,” Dreen pointed out over the dismayed mutterings of her Council. “And I asked her to address this gathering so there might be no doubt. Councillors, the time has come for us to make a difficult decision.”

Horbeck and his colleagues exchanged alarmed looks. “And what does that mean?” he said. “Lady Brislyn, if you’ve something to say, best you come out and say it.”

Nodding, Dreen steepled her fingers. “Here then is the bald truth. With Dorana undefended, and the mage-mist uncontained and worsening, soon we will come under attack from our neighbours. You know as well as I that their patience is long since exhausted.”

“So what do we do?” asked Lady Marnagh, of the Fifth district, her eyes wide, her voice unsteady. “Wait for them to come and kill us in our beds?”

More dismayed outcry, louder this time. The shock was wearing off. Soon raw terror would prevail.

“No, of course not!” Dreen said loudly, banging the table for silence. “Anticipating the worst, I have given this a great deal of thought. And once you’ve heard my proposal, I think you’ll agree that it must be our only chance of survival.”

Venette closed her eyes. She and Dreen had discussed this, at great and secret length. And while the idea repulsed her, horrified her, she could not argue against it.

“Justice save us all,” Remmie murmured, leaning close. “She wants to abandon Dorana, doesn’t she?”

Of course he’d guess. Barl Lindin’s brother was an astute young man. She silenced him with a warning glance.

Lord Atheling, now representing the Seventh and Eleventh districts, looked down his high-bridged nose and sneered. “Speak plainly, my lady,” he said, flirting with insolence. “These riddles of yours grow tiresome.”

Unintimidated, Dreen gave the man stare for stare. “Plainly, then, my lord, I say that every mage in Dorana should pack as much as he and she can carry, and retreat to a safe haven beyond our borders until the magical instability subsides.”

A heartbeat of shocked silence, and then the chamber erupted in protest. Unsurprised, Venette watched Dreen let the furious shouting wash over her… for a time. And then she slapped both palms hard to the table and pushed to her feet.

“Control yourselves!” she said loudly. “This caterwauling helps no-one.”

Raggedly, the dismayed councillors let their tongues run dry. One by one Dreen looked at them, her eyes icy with disdain.

“This is a terrible thing, I know, but the harsh truth is now staring us in the face. We flee… or we perish. Which shall it be?”

Dorana’s General Council chooses to flee…