Light flared there, but only for a few seconds, as Clariel broke away from the Charter too soon for the light mark to be established on its own. She took another breath, and wiped away the sweat that had suddenly broken out on her forehead.

‘Curious,’ said Kargrin. ‘I wonder what you would do if …’

His fingers arched and suddenly shards of sharp metal spat straight at her, shards made not of true metal but of Charter marks, conjured so swiftly that he must have already had most of the spell put together and hidden on his person, awaiting only a single mark to activate it.

Clariel reacted instantly, ducking under the shards, but even so she felt the heat of their passage above her head.

‘What are you doing?’ squeaked Clariel. Raising her voice, she shouted, ‘Roban! Help!’

‘Use the Charter,’ bellowed Kargrin, his eyes intent on her own. ‘Defend yourself!’

His fingers arched again, and more red-hot shards spat forth, missing Clariel’s shoulder by a hairsbreadth as she twisted violently aside and collided with the edge of the table.

‘Use the Charter!’ Kargrin shouted again, stamping his foot. Charter marks blew up under his heel, forming a swirling cloud that rolled over Clariel, enveloping her in a choking mist. She dived onto the table, slid across it on her stomach and went over the other side, ending up on all fours on the floor, her knees and hands smarting in pain, but with the cloud behind her.

Kargrin came around the end of the table, advancing upon her, his hands out in a spellcasting gesture. Clariel retreated, stood upright and backed away. Anger was building inside her, anger fuelled by pain and humiliation. Her knife was in her hand now, though she did not remember drawing it.

How dare he suddenly attack her, she thought, and why should she use Charter Magic anyway? She wanted to charge straight at the great bull of a man, and twist this way and strike, the knife parting his throat on the diagonal. Even before she knew it she was sliding forward, her arm going up, moving as swiftly as she ever had, fast as a kite dropping on a vole in the grass, but somehow when she twisted and her arm came across, Kargrin’s throat was not there.

Clariel whirled around but she could not see him anywhere in the hall.

Suddenly a plate dropped on her head, a china plate that shattered into pieces, though its surprise impact hadn’t really hurt. Clariel screeched a war cry, her head going back, and saw Kargrin standing tiptoe like a dancer on one of the broken beam ends way above her head.

‘Use the Charter,’ cried Kargrin. ‘Defend yourself!’