She had always thought of the prosecutor as a bull of a man, a commanding figure feared for his dogged pursuit of his quarry as well as his intimidating presence. Now, he looked weak and powerless. She supposed that he was. The man that he had been, was no more.

Now, he was a man who suddenly appeared to be in great distress as he hesitated. “I’m not sure what you mean, Mistress.”

Magda frowned as she looked down the length of her white dress at him. “It’s a simple question. Who are you loyal to? Answer the question.”

“To you, Mistress! I am loyal to you and no other!”

Magda shared a look with Merritt.

“That’s not the right answer,” she whispered.

“You have to be more specific,” Merritt whispered back. “He is trying to follow your instructions exactly.”

Magda understood. She looked back down at the concern on the stocky face peering up at her, waiting expectantly.

“No, that’s not what I meant—”

Lothain cried out in anguish at hearing that he had displeased her. He fell to the floor, grasping the hem of her white Confessor’s dress.

“I’m sorry, Mistress!” he sobbed. “Please, forgive me! I’ll tell you whatever you want to hear!”

“I want to hear the truth. I meant that I want to know where your loyalties used to lie before you became loyal to me.”

Relief washed over his creased face at understanding what she wanted, relief that he now knew how to please her. He sat back on his heels.

“I was loyal to Emperor Sulachan, Mistress. I was a spy for him. I did his bidding.”

The crowd gasped. Some of the people were still helping those in pain on the floor as others were pushing around them, trying to get in closer to be able to hear.

“How can that be?” one of the older wizards near the front asked. “How is it possible for our prosecutor to be loyal to Sulachan, and even if it was, why would he admit it to you?”

Magda gestured to Merritt, for the first time really noticing how much blood was all over him. She paused momentarily to take him in, then turned to the watching faces.

“This is Wizard Merritt. He is a maker.”

That sent ripples of whispering back through the crowd. Some people, she knew, thought that makers were a myth. Other people had known that Merritt was gifted, but hadn’t known that he was a maker. A number of the gifted, though, nodded knowingly, some even with pride.

“I want you all to understand what has happened, and why this traitor is confessing. You see, with his gift as a maker, Merritt created an entirely new form of magic never conceived of before.”

Excited whispering swept back through the crowd at the news. Magda waited for the crowd to quiet down. Wanting to hear what she would say next, they quickly did.