“Arrogant, beautiful, and terrifying.”

“Terrifying?”

“The way they cast glamours … I hated seeing what it did to people and was afraid of being caught in it myself.”

“You weren’t? Are you sure?”

“Not that I know of. I could see the edge, like a faint silver line, and avoid it or … or shut myself up, some way, and move through quickly.”

“Hmmm.” Marshal Cedlin did not move for four or five breaths, then nodded sharply. “I have a task for you, Arvid, and I’m going to suggest the Marshal-General consult you as well. Look for magery in Fin Panir. I know some of the children who have shown mage ability. I want you to go about the city, just as you do now, but concentrate on magery. See what you find. Notice the reactions to it, if you find it. And tell me.”

In the next several afternoons, Arvid found fourteen people—eleven children, two youths, and one older woman selling fruit in the lower market—he was sure were mages. When he told Marshal Cedlin the next drill night, the Marshal nodded. “I thought you might be good at this. How could you tell? Did you see them all make light?”

“No … it was more like the elves, though—I didn’t feel any pressure of a glamour. But I could—almost—see something. Different but … something about them.”

The Marshal nodded again. “I thought you might be able to tell. Anything else?”

“Yes. I didn’t tell you this before, but I started hearing talk about magery shortly after I moved here. Didn’t seem worth mentioning; I knew Girdish didn’t like magery, and people gossip most about what they don’t like. There’s been much more the last few hands of days. I didn’t know—I thought it might be something to do with the Evener coming, with casting-out rituals. But in the lower city especially, there’s fear. Rumors that the Marshal-General wants to bring magelords back. The Marshal-General’s going to die if—”

“What!”