“Yes, he was licensed—like Lord Chatham and eleven others,” Emris said grimly. “Chatham has devised a number of tests, similar to those you will perform for the Holy Council, to prove a Rogue has control over their power. He then issues a certificate authorized by the King. That’s it—and they think that is enough.” The scorn in his voice was palpable. “They tell the world they are safe—and, to give them the benefit of the doubt, perhaps they even think they are safe. But without a god’s control, their power is drawn from Chaos, and given long enough, I believe it will overwhelm each and every one of them.”

Lena paused, thinking about the creature who had been looking out from behind Lord Aster’s eyes. “Why was Chaos so interested in me?”

Emris sighed, as if he’d feared the question. “Chaos noticed something special about you, Lena—just like the rest of us did. You don’t need to read more into it than that. Chaos is a trickster. Notice how Aster simply abandoned the King when a new distraction arrived for his attention? Chaos isn’t rational, or even particularly smart. It’s just immensely powerful.”

Special. Not different—special. Lena felt her heart glow. “That ball of magic … ,” she started, not sure how to finish.

“That was the physical manifestation of Chaos—of pure, unadulterated magic. Like a parasite, it grows inside the host, invisible, before taking it over entirely. Nothing was left of Lord Aster—he was a vehicle, no more.”

“How long had it been growing inside him? Would he have known?”

Emris turned his horse toward the broad Sacristi; she felt the movement of his arms where she rested her shoulders against his body. “Who knows? But he had been an independently licensed magician for over fifteen years. They all said he was safe.” Emris shook his head. “Two people died today to prove it wrong. Thank Faul it wasn’t worse.”

A chill ran through Lena’s body. Vigo had always told her that magic was an evil, unpredictable power—and in a way, he’d been right. She shook the thought from her mind, disturbed at the idea that Chaos could overwhelm her without her even realizing. “Perhaps this will change the law,” she suggested.

“Perhaps. But somehow I doubt it. There are too many vested interests in the system.”

“But if the King—”

“The King’s interests included. Remember? The King himself commissions magical items from his magicians, as if they were no more than a collection of merchants.”

The ground was flying upward rapidly, the gray cobblestones silvery in the moonlight, and hooves hit stone, galloping for a few moments before clattering to a stop at the temple entrance.