“I have to admit that the Wizard Council was unprepared for this sequence of events,” he said. “We should have been more alert to the possibility of General Klemath’s treachery. When the southerners invaded, we lost many of the gifted in the mountains. Some, they took captive. Others, they burned alive.”

“Montaigne will pay for that, I promise,” Raisa said. She wasn’t sure how she could bring that off, but he would pay.

Micah inclined his head in acknowledgment. “The fact that Montaigne is using captive wizards in his campaign makes the situation even more dire. Gray Lady is an armed camp.”

“The situation is dire here, too,” Lassiter exclaimed. “Will the council send help to us before it’s too late?”

“No,” Micah said flatly. “They won’t.”

Everyone began talking at once, asking questions, expressing disbelief and dismay.

“Let him finish!” Raisa shouted, and the hubbub died down. “What’s going on, Micah? Why aren’t they coming?”

With a grateful glance at Raisa, Micah pushed on. “This couldn’t have come at a worse time. The council is in total disarray. The leadership—” He cleared his throat. “This is—difficult,” he said, looking down at his hands. “Some of you already know that the council had launched an internal investigation of the new High Wizard, Lord Alister, who has been implicated in the recent murders of the gifted in the city.”

“What?” Lord Hakkam glared around the table. “I was unaware of this!”

“Hunts Alone? Really?” Nightwalker leaned forward, intent. “When all along you were blaming us.”

Micah gazed at Nightwalker, expressionless. “Let me speak. You’ll have an opportunity soon enough.” He paused, and when no one spoke, went on. “Alister found out about the charges pending against him,” he said. “When my father and sister returned to Aerie House after the council hearing, he was waiting. He attacked and tried to murder my father.”

After a moment’s stunned silence, Raisa choked out a single word. “What?”

Micah nodded, his black eyes glittering against his chalky skin. “He nearly succeeded. As some of you know, this is the second time he has assaulted Lord Bayar.” He fixed his eyes on Raisa, as if willing her to believe him. “My father had no choice,” he said. “No choice.”

Raisa stared at Micah. In her head, a voice clamored No-no-no-no. She stood, gripping the edge of the table for support. When she opened her mouth, the words stopped up in her throat so that Amon Byrne had to ask the question.

“What are you saying, Bayar?” he said. “What happened?”

“Alister is dead,” Micah replied. “My father killed him.”

C H A P T E R  F O R T Y

FEVER DREAMS

The room erupted into a cacophony of voices.

“Alister’s dead?” Lord Hakkam sputtered, as if offended by the inconvenience of it all. “Already?”