The servants in front of Jaciel and the ones behind Harven and Clariel screamed and fell as one, their faces dappled with burning holes. Jaciel stooped and picked up two daggers, wielding one in each hand. She lunged at Aronzo who frantically backed away and parried, and Kilp ran back to the doors and shouted, ‘To me!’

‘Flee!’ screamed Jaciel, parrying a riposte from Aronzo with one dagger as she drew Charter marks in the air with the other. The marks were bright as the sun, shining in the air with such brilliance they left after-images in Clariel’s eyes. She pushed her chair back but the legs stuck against the fallen servant, so she had to writhe under the table to get out, and then drag at her father’s hand. Harven was still sitting there, his mouth open and face aghast.

‘Father! Come on!’

She pulled his hand hard. He rose from his chair and they stumbled away. Clariel still had the small, blunt knife that she’d been using to cut the eel. She let go of her father’s hand and charged towards Aronzo’s back, aiming for his neck above his armoured coat, but he saw her coming from the corner of his eye and stepped away, and she was only saved from his counterattack by Jaciel parrying with a dagger.

‘Go!’ screamed Jaciel. She was still tracing Charter marks with her left hand, even as she parried with her right. Clariel had rarely seen her mother practise her swordcraft, but somewhere along the line Jaciel had been taught very well indeed. ‘Take the small stair!’

‘Don’t kill them, especially the girl! Shoot to wound!’ shouted Kilp as he opened the doors, a dozen or more of his guardsmen pouring in around him.

But even as he spoke three eager arbalesters fired their crossbows. Quarrels shot through the air, all three aimed at Jaciel. Yet they did not strike true, instead colliding with some invisible, or near invisible, barrier, for Clariel saw Charter marks flash as they struck.

Though the quarrels did not strike home, they did distract Jaciel for the barest instant. In that moment, Aronzo landed a cut across her arm. Blood flowed through the silk, spreading quickly.

‘You cut as easy as any, for all your magic,’ taunted Aronzo, stepping back so he could watch Jaciel and Clariel together, his blue eyes flickering. Harven was still gaping, his hands raised imploringly as if someone might step in to save them.

‘Do I?’ asked Jaciel. She leaned over and licked the blood from her shoulder, the smear of it frightful around her mouth. She laughed, a laugh Clariel had never heard before. A laugh that made her shiver from crown to toe. The laugh of something being released after a long, long captivity.