I twirled the mangled leaf stem between my sap-sticky fingers. All that remained was a ragged spray of veins. “It still seems wrong, to keep her against her will.”

“Maybe. Maybe it’s the lesser evil to keep the Falcons protected here, and not the good I wish it was.” He surged restlessly to his feet and began to pace. “You’ve hit on the core of every argument I have with the colonel. I believe the primary duty of the Falconers is to protect and care for the mage-marked. Or at least, that’s how I want it to be. But nothing I do, no amount of compassion I can bring to my work here, changes the fact that this is a military corps. These are soldiers.” A shriek of laughter rose up from elsewhere in the garden, and he winced. “Even the children.”

“And they have no choice.” That was the part that bothered me, like a splinter under my fingernail. “From the moment they’re born.”

“The mage-marked don’t have much chance to make choices, even if the Falconers never find them.”

Some heavy knowledge burdened his voice. I’d heard tales of all manner of tragedies happening to mages: murdered by superstitious folk, forced to use their powers in unsavory ways, or cast out in fear by their own families. Those without the mage mark could at least hide their abilities; and some did quite well in the open, starting magic shops or finding wealthy patrons. But the weaker magic of those without the mage mark was far less of a temptation or a threat. Perhaps one in a hundred people could manipulate magical energy at all; but without the mage mark, their capacity was limited and they lacked precise control. There was only so much they could do.

The mage-marked were a hundred times again more rare, and could channel far more power, handling it as easily as breathing, thanks to the additional magical dexterity and perception that came with the telltale ring in their eyes. They were human beings, people who loved and dreamed and feared the same as I did, with families and lives of their own. But their power was also a priceless resource, and some saw only that. I could only imagine the sort of awful stories Marcello had seen unfold in his years as a Falconer.

“Marcello.” I hesitated, rolling the question around in my mind to find a way to put it. “Have you ever unleashed your Falcon to … to do harm?”