Disclaimers: see part 1, chapter 1

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By Jane Fletcher

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Bramell's study appeared around Jemeryl with no sense of transition. Voices boomed, muffled as if echoing down a long corridor. Jemeryl focused all her attention, trying to force a firm contact with the world. The tendrils of fog slipped a little and Levannue's voice became distinct.

"I've had suspicions for some time. Several things have gone missing since she started in my section."

"I'll send someone to search her room." Bramell's words were out of step with the blurred movement of his lips.

"It might be an idea if I do that. I'd know what I'm looking for."

"Good idea." Bramell's face floated in front of Jemeryl. "Are you still going to say nothing to explain yourself?"

Jemeryl guessed her silence was being taken for sullen resistance. Yet, try as she might, her throat and lips would not obey her.

"She wouldn't answer before, apart from making threats." one of the witches volunteered, from somewhere out of sight.

"Yes, she did. She said Levannue was in big trouble." the other added.

Jemeryl mentally swore at the pair of them. Presumably, they were not part of a conspiracy; else there would have been no need to stage the whole scene in Levannue's room. The three could simply have invented a story from beginning to end. It was far more likely that Levannue had carefully picked them as witnesses based on their lack of brains and ability. Neither had noticed the use of power when Levannue had activated the enslaving device, and neither was giving a second thought to the instantaneous change in behaviour it caused.

"Perhaps she'll be more forthcoming when she's had some time to consider her situation." Bramell's eyes glared through the fog at Jemeryl. "I'll speak to you again tomorrow."

"It might be wise to lock her in one of the quarantine rooms." Levannue suggested.

"Yes. Then we'll be certain where she is." Bramell faded from her field of vision.

Jemeryl raged at his incompetence. Neame would have noticed the fine lines of force, binding her aura, and anyone with half a brain might have suspected something strange was happening. Bramell was too buried in the rulebook to use his own eyes, or his head. Extended senses were wasted on him.

Jemeryl made one last attempt to give some sign of what was going on, but the power of the collar absorbed all her efforts. Someone standing behind her took a firm grip of her arm and towed her from the room. Unable even to control her eyes, the disorienting blur of movement broke her links with the world. Once again, she was swallowed by fog.

* * * * * *

Jemeryl sat slumped on one of the narrow bunks in the quarantine room, in a position of enforced inactivity. She had managed to overcome the clouding of her senses, and could now see and hear reasonably clearly, however this merely left her as a passive observer, trapped in her body. The device in the collar bound her on each of the seven dimensions. All attempts to reach Klara and send word to Tevi had failed. She was completely isolated from the magpie; not the faintest trace of the bond remained. Absurdly, the thing that chafed the most was that she could not pace the room to relieve her tension.

There was no comfort to be had from thinking. So far, she had been outmanoeuvred at every point. What was Levannue planning to do next? Before long, surely, people would start to question Jemeryl's apathetic silence. Had Levannue thought of a way to deal with it? What was the full extent of her plans?

There was a noise outside the room. Footsteps halted and a key rattled in the lock. Jemeryl could not raise her head, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw the door open and Levannue's feet enter the room. The door swung shut with a hollow clunk and then a chair's legs scraped against the floorboards as it was pulled into position in front of her. Jemeryl could see no higher than the hands folded in Levannue's lap when the elderly sorcerer sat down. Abruptly, Jemeryl's back jerked straight, forcing her head up. Her eyes met Levannue's. The two of them were alone in the room.

Levannue studied her thoughtfully. "I'm sure you won't be surprised to learn a number of incriminating things were found in your room. I'm officially here to ask you about them, though we both know that would be quite pointless." She gave a humourless smile. "I've had doubts about you for some time, ever since you found the manuscript. You've definitely had your eye on me for the last few days - and I'm not conceited enough to think you've fallen in love with me. Letting you see the chalice was an easy way of getting confirmation. It would have meant nothing to you, unless you'd known about Lorimal - but you swallowed the bait whole."

Jemeryl impotently cursed her own stupidity. Why hadn't she spotted the trap?

Levannue leaned forward. Her expression became more intense. "What I don't understand is why Lyremouth waited so long before sending you. I'd also like to know what sort of resources you have behind you, since I hardly think they'd send you alone. When did you work out I was the one you were after? Who have you told? What are your plans?" She paused. "And you're going to tell me all of that, aren't you?"

It felt as if hands burst into Jemeryl's mind, picking apart her thoughts and digging through the layers of memory. Her life dissolved into formless fragments. She felt lost, like a floating carcass, shredded by the sharp skewers of scavengers. She almost surrendered herself to the invasion, but one anchor held firm - the knowledge that Tevi's life was at stake. Levannue had broken her oath to the Coven and was probably responsible for the deaths of two sorcerers. Surely she would not hesitate a moment to kill an ungifted mercenary and take the warrant if she learned there was no one else to back up Jemeryl's story.

The collar held Jemeryl's aura more surely than chains and shackles would have held her body. She had no way to fight back. Her only option was a shell-like defence, reclaiming her thoughts and pulling her mind shut. She wrapped her being tight within herself.

Levannue drew a sharp breath, either in frustration or anger - Jemeryl did not care. The mode of attack changed. The probing hands became burning claws. Pain exploded inside Jemeryl's head. She would have screamed if she had control of her voice. Yet still, she resisted, clinging to the memory of Tevi and the knowledge of what defeat would mean. She could not retaliate or hide, only endure.

The onslaught continued. It shifted in intensity and focus, forcing Jemeryl to retreat still further. She felt the shattering of bonds holding flesh and spirit together. Pain ceased to be important; life ceased to be important. Her heartbeat faltered, resumed erratic pounding and then stopped again. Her breathing became weak and short. The fight could not continue for much longer. Her body could not survive being severed from her mind. Jemeryl knew death would claim her soon, but even this would be a sort of victory - the dead reveal no secrets.

Suddenly the battle was over. Levannue conceded defeat and withdrew, leaving Jemeryl to re-catch the treads of life. Blood pounded in her ears. White stabs of pain flared behind her eyes as her heartbeat grew strong again. Her arms and legs were numb and tingling. Her lungs burned raw with each gasped breath while nausea gripped her stomach.

Eventually, her body settled and her eyes could refocus on the room. Levannue still sat on her chair. Her face was slightly flushed from the effort.

She scowled at Jemeryl angrily. "So. You are not quite the raw novice you seem. I should have known Lyremouth would send someone able to take care of herself."

It occurred to Jemeryl that this was the highest praise she had ever heard from Levannue, although she was hardly in a condition to feel flattered. The elderly sorcerer left her seat and stalked around the room. Her hand slapped loudly on the tabletop in frustration - the first chink in Levannue's composure. Her nostrils were pinched, flaring slightly as she breathed. Her lips were compressed in a thin line. She stopped at the window and stared out through the bars. Her arms rested on the high ledge.

When eventually she turned back to Jemeryl, her expression was again controlled. "You must be aware that I'm due to leave Ekranos soon. My plans weren't secret. Of course, you'd have tried to stop my departure, which is why I had to pre-empt you. Unfortunately, you haven't told me what I really want to know - do I need to flee tonight, or can I afford to stick to my original schedule? You are no longer a threat. The trouble is, I don't know who else I have to contend with, or how much evidence they have." Levannue raised one eyebrow quizzically. "And you're not going to volunteer the information."

Levannue sat down, tapping her fingertips together. She continued in the manner of someone who was voicing their thoughts aloud. "You've been meeting a mercenary in town on a regular basis. The pretence of being lovers was very good. It had me fooled for quite a while. In reality she must be a go-between, passing your reports onto... whoever. I could try talking to this mercenary. I'm sure she'd be more co-operative than you. However, you're isolated here at the school, whereas she's probably guarded in some way. Would talking to her justify the risk?" Levannue sighed and rubbed her hand across her forehead. "I can manipulate Bramell into keeping things here quiet. He won't be keen on rumours about a sorcerer's disgrace spreading outside the school. If I start stirring things up in town there's no way I could stop your associates learning about this. If they don't yet know I'm the one with the chalice, I don't want to enlighten them by abducting their messenger."

Levannue's eyes bored into Jemeryl. "The last time you met with the mercenary was nine days ago. I'd been suspicious of you ever since you showed so much interest in Lorimal's manuscript, so I took the opportunity to search your room. I didn't find much except for the notebook on your desk. You'd torn out the pages you'd written on, but I was able to read the imprint of the last page. It was intriguing. It confirmed that you were interested in events here three years ago - the chalice was the most likely reason, although I guess there was a faint chance that you were looking into some of Vine's more scandalous gossip. I was able to tell from the temporal decay that you'd written it immediately before leaving for the meeting in Ekranos, and it was clear that, at that time, you had no more suspicions about me than any of the other seniors. So, at your last meeting with the go-between you wouldn't have named me as the culprit. It was a couple of days later that I first noticed you watching me." Levannue paused. "I wonder what it was that you found out in the meantime?"

The pain in Jemeryl's head had eased, but she was still a powerless spectator. There was some comfort that Levannue had wildly overestimated the size of the party the Guardian had sent to catch her - it had caused Levannue to talk herself into leaving Tevi alone. It was just about the only miscalculation Levannue had made, and it wasn't an unreasonable one. It would have been far more sensible for the Guardian to dispatch an extra dozen sorcerers to wait in town as a backup force, instead of one lone ungifted mercenary. Was there really such drastic need of secrecy about Lorimal's spell?

Levannue's other mistake was in believing that Jemeryl had only worked out her guilt after the last meeting with Tevi. Again it was not unreasonable. At the time of leaving her study, Jemeryl had been completely confused as to the identity of the traitor. Levannue was assuming that Jemeryl had discovered something after her return, rather than having a sudden, cook-inspired, insight on the way into Ekranos.

Levannue's fingers tapped on the arm of the chair. "Even if your associates don't have any evidence pointing at me, they aren't going to stand back and let any sorcerer leave Ekranos. I need to take passage out on a ship, but I don't want to risk being apprehended on the gangplank." Her eyes fixed on the ceiling, while she thought. "What I'll do is arrange privately with Bramell to bring my departure forward a few days and manufacture a reason to keep it secret. I'll be well away before your associates in town even know I've gone." Her gaze fell to look at Jemeryl sadly. "However, you present a problem. The disguise on the collar won't stand scrutiny - not when people start wondering why you don't speak. Even if I flee Ekranos tonight, you'd set the pursuit on my tail tomorrow, and I'd like a bit more of a head start. You realise it is nothing personal, but I must have you out of the way."

Levannue stood and pushed the chair back under the small table. She walked back to the bed with a slow deliberate tread. A cold lump formed in the pit of Jemeryl's stomach. Levannue took a twist of paper from a pouch at her waist and emptied the contents into the palm of her hand - two dozen small green berries. Levannue studied them for a moment, then pulled open a pocket on Jemeryl's shirt and poured them in.

"I'm going to leave you now and make myself conspicuous elsewhere. In an hour, someone will bring you dinner. You'll be too upset to eat any. After they have taken the plates away you'll feel compelled to take the berries out of your pocket and eat them. I'm afraid it's a fatal dose. When I 'discover' your body tomorrow, I'll change your collar for an ordinary iron one. It will be assumed you killed yourself rather than face the consequences of your deeds. It won't take much prompting to ensure that Bramell keeps the news of a sorcerer committing suicide as quiet as possible." For a moment Levannue's voice faltered. "I'm really very sorry it has worked out like this. The Coven was wrong to ban Lorimal's work. Perhaps you can now appreciate what it means to me."

Levannue's hands shook as she opened the door. She gave a last sorrowful look back over her shoulder and left. Jemeryl heard the key turn in the lock.

* * * * * *

Time dragged by in the cell-like quarantine room. The sun's rays slowly climbed the wall and faded. Jemeryl struggled to throw off the bonds of the collar and gain enough control of her body to make a sign or say a word. Alerting the person who brought the food would be her last chance.

Her dinner arrived on schedule, brought by a rotund, middle aged witch who spared only one disapproving glance for Jemeryl as he dumped the tray on the table. He stomped back across the room and slammed the door shut, as if trying to demonstrate his support for the school authorities by the volume of his actions.

Jemeryl almost gave up in despair, but there was nothing else to divert her thoughts from the fate looming ahead. After a while, the door opened again and the witch returned for the tray. This time Vine squeezed in behind him. She scuttled to Jemeryl's side, dropped to a half-crouch, and attempted to look up into Jemeryl's face.

"Jem, what happened? What did you do? And why?"

Had the situation been less desperate, Jemeryl would have been amused by the unwavering pursuit of gossip. As it was, Vine's curiosity was the only thing that might save her life. If only Vine would act like a sorcerer and use her senses, rather than focus all her attention on trying to gather news.

Using all her knowledge of magic, Jemeryl flung herself at the cage around her aura. She fought for the right to control her own voice, and her own body, desperate to break free of the snare. Seldom in her life had she put so much effort into anything - never with so little result. There was a slight faltering in the rhythm of her breathing. Her lower lip twitched, but there was no sound, no recognisable gesture.

Vine's expression softened, obviously mistaking Jemeryl's response for mute distress. "Jem. Aren't you going to tell me anything?"

The witch spoke. "Don't waste your time. I told you she wasn't talking to anyone. We'll take the plates and go."

Vine's excitement waned. She stood and walked to the table. The puzzlement on her face intensified. "She's not eaten anything."

"Not surprising, when you think of the trouble she's in. I wouldn't have much appetite in her shoes either."

"You'd think she'd eat for consolation."

Even the sour faced witch laughed at that. "You would. Anyway, you've seen her. That's the favour I owed. Now leave her to sulk." He picked up the untouched tray and headed to the door.

Vine was clearly unhappy. She hesitated in the centre of the room and stared at Jemeryl with a confused intensity, as if trying to form a new question in her head. Then her expression changed to one of pique.

"I do think, if you are going to do something outrageous, you could at least give me the inside story." Vine gave Jemeryl one last hurt look and flounced out.

The door shut with a final, hollow thud.

The room was as bleak as the first time Jemeryl had seen it, on the night Gewyn had been carried in. Gewyn had walked out, weak but smiling. Jemeryl held no such hopes for herself. Although she had control of her own mind and senses, Levannue held her body in complete subjugation.

From her work in the dispensary, Jemeryl recognised the seeds Levannue had put in her pocket. They would act quickly, with little pain. It would be an easy death. Was it practicality or compassion that had prompted Levannue's choice of poison? Not that it mattered. Already Jemeryl's hand was moving, rising to her chest, like a marionette dancing on the end of a string. Her forefinger slipped into the pocket, digging out the seeds. Her hand continued in its slow advance, to end cupped over her mouth. The seeds had a sweet, scented taste. Her jaws moved, grinding the seeds to pulp. It was a mechanical, cow-like motion. Jemeryl swallowed.

For a long time, nothing happened except that the pattern of the grain on the floorboards became lost in the advancing dusk. Then Jemeryl became aware of numbness in her fingers and toes. The sensation spread up her legs while a range of emotions contended for primacy - anger at her own stupidity, bitterness at defeat by Levannue, guilt that she would not say goodbye to Tevi, and a growing, helpless panic.

Before long, the numbness reached her waist. Sharp spikes leapt up her spine and coiled about her heart. Her chest contracted, squeezing the air from her lungs. A black well opened behind her head, sending tendrils of darkness streaming passed her eyes.

Jemeryl's last sensation was of tumbling backwards into the pit.

* * * * * *

The band of mercenaries from the port bundled through the door of the guildhall and gathered inside, loudly discussing plans for the coming night. The cool interior echoed with voices arguing the merits of various taverns. Tevi listened with half an ear. Her next meeting with Jemeryl was not for several days and she was willing to go along with anything the others agreed on.

One of the guild-masters strode through the lobby. Spotting Tevi, he stopped and tapped her on the shoulder. "If you're going to keep pets in your room you should have them under control. In future, your magpie must be kept in a cage."

The sharp tones took Tevi by surprise. "But she's perfectly tame. She usually just sleeps on my shelf when I'm not here."

"Honest, Klara is no trouble at all. She's so clever you'd think she could talk." one of Tevi's roommates backed her up.

"She hasn't been tame or clever today. She nearly frighten the life out of the orderly who went to your room an hour ago - flapping and squawking about the place. Anyway, it's not a request; it's an order. Restrain your pet or we'll review your permission to keep her." The guild-master treated the junior mercenaries to a glare before stalking off through the hall.

Tevi shared a bewildered look with the rest of the group before heading to her room, convinced it had to be a mistake. Her two roommates followed. As soon as she opened the door, Tevi knew the orderly had not been exaggerating. Something was definitely wrong with Klara. Items had been knocked off shelves; feathers littered the room. In fact, as much damage had been done as might be expected from one small magpie. Tevi stepped cautiously into the room followed by the others.

A black and white blur exploded from a corner of the room and threw itself at the window, beating against the thick, blue-green glass. Tevi walked towards the bird slowly, trying to make reassuring noises. Klara stopped her flapping and backed into a corner, cheeping pathetically. At first, it seemed as if the magpie would allow herself to be stroked. The attack came without warning. As Tevi reached out her hand, Klara lunged forward.

Tevi jumped back, staring in astonishment at the spot of blood on her thumb.

One of her roommates peered over her shoulder, his expression mirroring Tevi's own confusion. "What's wrong with her?"

"I don't know. Maybe she's ill." Tevi said, half-heartedly.

"Are you sure it's Klara?"

"Of course, who else could it be?"

"This might be a wild magpie that's come in here and scared Klara away. It's acting like one."

Tevi jolted as if kicked. Without pausing to answer, she dived to the bottom of her bed, and wrenched open the lid of her footlocker. Lying at the bottom was something that looked like a small polishing cloth, innocuous and commonplace. Tevi had been assured any sorcerer would see through the magical glamour, and recognise it for what it was - the Guardian's warrant of authorisation.

Tevi snatched up the cloth, and launched herself towards the door, hurtling passed her surprised colleagues.

"Tevi. What's wrong?" one asked.

"I've got to go."

"Why?"

"Haven't time to explain. I should be back later." Already Tevi was out of the room, running.

One of her roommates followed Tevi into the corridor. He shouted at her retreating figure. "Do you need help? Is it trouble?"

For a second Tevi stopped. "I hope not. By the gods, I hope not." Then she leapt down the stairs and vanished.

The young man looked back through the doorway at the other startled mercenary. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go."

The pair of them chased after Tevi.

* * * * * *

The library was almost deserted at the late hour. A few globes floated in the dim cavernous space, lighting the aisles between the rows of books. Levannue and Moragar stood in a recessed alcove off the main hall, conferring in low voices.

"But I'm keeping you."

"Oh no. It's been a pleasure."

The trite pleasantries terminated the conversation. Levannue smiled and walked to the exit, a book clasped in her hand. They had been talking for half an hour, and she could not remember a word they had said.

She paused at the door and stared across the school's main square. The last traces of pink had left the eastern sky. Overhead, the deep blue was speckled with bright stars. By now, Jemeryl would be unconscious. The end could not be far away.

Satisfaction at the success of her plan had worn off, leaving only the stale taste of guilt, souring her mouth and constricting her throat. The corners of Levannue's lips turned down. How had it come to this? At the outset, it had all seemed a game. Somewhere, over the years, things had become serious - deadly serious. It had never been her intention to cause this much harm, to break her oath of loyalty to the Coven so totally. It had crept up on her, step by bitter step.

The quarters she shared with Bramell were nearby. Levannue paced along the path, brooding on the turn of events. There was no way back. It was far too late to change her mind - but what if she had her time again? Levannue shook her head - 'what if' was always a fruitless question.

She tried to focus on happier thoughts - her plans for that evening with Bramell, one of the few remaining occasions she would have with him. The sounds of a disturbance just inside the school gates distracted her. Levannue's footsteps halted at the sight of a young apprentice running towards the seniors' quarters.

Levannue put out a hand to stop the girl. "What's happening?"

The apprentice was out of breath. She gasped, "Ma'am, there's a group of mercenaries at the gates. They want to see Neame or Bramell. It's about Jemeryl. They've got a warrant from the Guardian at Lyremouth."

A lifetime's practise at self-control helped Levannue hide her shock, although her mind seethed in turmoil. The first thing was to buy time. She pointed to the building she had just left. "Neame was entering the library as I came out. You should look there first."

The apprentice rushed off with a word of thanks. Levannue wasted no time in watching her go. It would not take long to discover Neame was not there. She hastened to the seniors' quarters. At the doorway, she spared a brief glance back across the quad. Three figures were just discernible, standing in dark forecourt before the gates. Levannue disappeared into the building before she was herself seen.

Surely, it was impossible for Jemeryl to have passed the word out? Which meant, even more worryingly, that her associates outside had been able to penetrate the school defences and learn of what had happened. Levannue fought against her rising panic. She had strengthened the shields around the school to block everything. She would have staked her life that no message had got in or out. Levannue's expression wavered - her life was quite literally at stake. She could not begin to guess what sort of power Jemeryl's associates had to scry inside the school shields. It had not been achieved by force - she would have felt it if the shields had been broken down. It was the unknown subtlety that was frightening, or, more basically, the unknown.

What little hope Levannue held for escape rested with speed. The three mercenaries at the gate could only be the messengers. Other, more formidable, powers would be lying in wait. Levannue prayed they had not thought to guard the small rear exit from the school.

Levannue arrived in her quarters. Two small bags were stashed at the rear of a cupboard. One was a dimensional gate, the other a conventional backpack. The latter contained everything she would need on her travels. The gate was for later, when she had re-established herself somewhere. Levannue congratulated herself on the forethought to have prepared the bags in advance.

She hoisted them over her shoulder, grabbed a cloak and was ready to depart. At the doorway, she paused for one last look at the rooms she had shared with Bramell for so many years. Abruptly tears stung her eyes, spurred by dozens of small, barbed memories: their children crawling on the mat, a long midwinter's night in front of the fire with Bramell, the reflected light on the ceiling when she woke on a sunny day. Although leaving had always been inherent in her plans, she was going now because she had no other option. She could not stop herself from wondering if she had lost far more than she would ever gain. She would never see Bramell again, not even to say good-bye.

But there was no time to waste on regrets. Levannue shut the door and fled. Her route slipped behind the junior washrooms and outhouses. It stuck to the shadows and ripples in a sorcerer's multidimensional space. The small gate above the path down the cliff was unbarred. Levannue halted in its shelter, studying the trail intently. She noted each shift in light and balance. Nothing seemed unusual. There was no guard she could detect, nothing to block her way.

On the field behind her, the school building blended into the night. The scene was alive with smells and sounds. It was all so very familiar from the long years since she had come to Ekranos as a young woman. Again, her lips quavered. This was not the way she had wanted to leave. Although perhaps it was for the best - a formal farewell would have been too painful.

Levannue let the gate swing shut and stepped onto the path. The moon was rising over the bay below, high tide no more than an hour away. If she was to have any hope of escape, she had to be gone before the pursuit reached the harbour. Speed was of the essence. Her face hardened - once she was safe she could take time to indulge herself with regrets, if she wished.

Levannue hurried down the path, a dark shadow in the descending night.

* * * * * *

Tevi stood impatiently in the forecourt. Behind her, the other two mercenaries shifted from foot to foot anxiously. One of them spoke in a whisper. "What have you got yourself mixed up in, Tevi? And what can we do against these people anyway?"

Tevi did not bother to reply. She walked to the archway that gave access to the main square. Her eyes scoured the darkening pathways for sight of the returning apprentice while her hand thumped in frustration on the brickwork. At last, a figure emerged from a distant doorway and hurried towards them.

As the girl approached her voice lifted to a shout. "I can't find Neame anywhere. Are you sure you can't come back tomorrow morning?"

"No, I can't. I want to see someone in authority. I want to see Jemeryl, and I want to see her now!" Tevi answered angrily as the apprentice came to a sullen halt before her.

"Well, that's just not..."

Tevi's patience snapped. She strode forward, intending to search the school herself if need be.

The apprentice's hand shot out, moving to block Tevi's way. "We don't allow strangers to..."

The sentence was never finished. Tevi swept her arm in a shove that sent the apprentice stumbling to the ground. The other two mercenaries shrunk back into the shadows of the gateway, vainly trying to make themselves invisible. It was madness to treat any member of the Coven like that - even an apprentice. However, the fallen youngster was too surprised to initiate any immediate retaliation.

Tevi marched to the entrance to the main square. She stopped, fists on hips, and bellowed at full volume. "I WANT TO TALK TO SOMEBODY IN AUTHORITY!" Her voice cracked with the force of the shout.

"Will I do." Someone spoke from the entrance to a darkened alleyway. The firmness of the intonation made clear that, despite the words, it was not a question.

Tevi spun around to see a stocky figure emerge into the forecourt. It was a woman in late middle age, with untidy grey hair tied up in a bun at her neck. The new arrival considered the scene with a steady, questioning gaze, taking in Tevi's defiant scowl, the fallen apprentice and the cowering mercenaries by the gatehouse.

"What exactly is going on?" It was a voice that demanded an answer.

The apprentice scrambled to her feet, relief evident on her face. "Oh Neame, ma'am. These mercenaries want to see you. They've got a warrant from Lyremouth." She cast a dubious look in Tevi's direction. "But they are a bit overexcited. Perhaps they should explain what it's about for themselves."

* * * * * *

"These accusations are preposterous. You cannot expect me to take them seriously." Bramell was at his most august. His well-modulated tones did nothing to mask his anger.

Tevi was unimpressed. "I'm simply telling you what we've learned."

"What you believe you've learned from all this childish subterfuge. What right did you think you had to act like that?"

"We were obeying the Guardian's orders." Tevi was politely stubborn.

"Preposterous or not, we're going to have to look into it. You can't ignore the warrant." Neame added her support.

Tevi looked at her with gratitude. Bramell thrust his lower lip out petulantly. The three of them were the only ones in the study.

"If what you say is true why didn't Jemeryl tell me it herself?"

"I don't know. Why don't you bring her here and ask her?" Tevi was mastering her impatience with difficulty.

"I will. We can also hear what Levannue has to say." Bramell made his decision. He pulled open the door and called to an assistant waiting outside. "I want to see Jemeryl at once. And could you also find Levannue, and ask her if she could step in here."

The room was quiet while they waited. Tevi looked around at the bare walls. Bramell's study was smaller and plainer than she had expected. Faint sun-bleached outlines on the walls indicated that previous occupants had preferred a little more in the way of ornamentation. The man himself matched Jemeryl's description perfectly. Neame also was true to the portrait Jemeryl had painted, although Tevi sensed a mind at once subtler and more straightforward than she had anticipated.

As the delay dragged on, Bramell grew increasingly irritable. He paced to the window and stared at it, though nothing could be seen in the darkness outside. Turning his back on the night, he resumed his attack on Tevi. "Do you realise how serious your allegations are? Levannue is a senior sorcerer. If this is a joke, you're in for some nasty shocks."

Tevi bit her tongue; she had other concerns on her mind. She had got the impression that Jemeryl was being held near at hand, and was becoming worried at the time it was taking for her to arrive. The assurance Tevi had been given that Jemeryl was safe, even if incarcerated, had gone part way to easing her anxiety, but she would only be happy once she had seen her lover in person.

"Is it possible Jemeryl has duped this mercenary in some way?" Bramell addressed his question to Neame.

"I don't see how. The warrant is undoubtedly genuine." Neame said seriously.

Bramell opened his mouth to speak. His reply was lost in the sound of running footsteps. The door to the study flew open and a young sorcerer burst in. His words were punctuated by deep gasps.

"Please sir. Jemeryl is ill. She seems to have taken something. We couldn't wake her."

* * * * * *

The quarantine rooms lay off a narrow corridor, terminated at one end by a window. The other end opened onto a lobby, with offset stairs. Despite the late hour, the hallways were busy. Small groups huddled in all directions. Electrified whispers hissed like waves on a beach. Distant doors banged.

Tevi sat on the floor at the top of the stairs, trying to ignore all the inquisitive looks sent in her direction. Her back was braced against the wall and her eyes were fixed on the door to the room where Jemeryl lay. A little way to her left stood a group of very young apprentices. Their juvenile excitement jarred on Tevi's nerves. Another woman of about Tevi's age, with a sorcerer's black amulet on her wrist, was going from group to group, desperately questioning anyone willing to talk. Most were only too eager. From the description, Tevi guessed it was Vine.

The gossip was eyeing Tevi and obviously preparing to accost her, when the door to the quarantine room opened and Bramell emerged. He strode to the intersection.

Tevi scrambled to her feet. "How is Jemeryl?"

Bramell did not answer. He glared at the other occupants of the hallway. "Will everyone who has no business with the patients leave immediately." His voice crackled with annoyance. Everyone made haste to comply.

Only one small apprentice braved his anger. "Please sir."

"What is it?" Bramell snapped.

"We couldn't find Levannue when we looked. Do you still want to talk to her?"

Bramell's expression barely changed, but it seemed to Tevi that something inside the man crumpled.

The apprentice showed no sign of noticing and carried on speaking timidly. "If you wish, sir, I could go to your rooms and see if she has returned."

"That is not necessary." Bramell's voice was quiet, devoid of its usual confidence.

The apprentice made her escape, running down the now vacant stairs and out through the corridor below.

Bramell stood, looking around without appearing to see anything. His focus was lost beyond the confines of the walls. After a few seconds, he gathered himself and headed for the stairs, but his footsteps were uncertain. There was no trace of the self-assurance he had show in his office. Tevi could have pitied him, except she had her own worries.

As he walked past, she reached out to hold his arm. "How is Jemeryl?" She repeated her question.

"Neame is attending to her. Everything possible is being done." Bramell spoke the bland phrases in a daze.

"Can I see her now?"

"No. You would disturb Neame's work." Bramell looked at Tevi, as if seeing her for the first time that evening. His jaw worked ineffectuality as he tried to summon his composure. "I want you to take a message to the mayor in Ekranos. I've already sent sorcerers to aid the harbour-master. But she..." He stopped, gathering himself before continuing. "Levannue may attempt to escape by other routes. Get the mayor to send messengers to all surrounding towns. Ordinary folk won't be able to stop her, but they might raise the alarm. The Coven will be diverting more resources to the pursuit as soon as possible."

"Two of my guild comrades are waiting outside. They can take the message."

"There's nothing for you to do here. We will take care of Jemeryl." Bramell's voice may have lacked its usual authority, but he would have made no impression on Tevi regardless of how he had spoken.

"My chief guild-master and the Guardian of the Coven both personally assigned me to Jemeryl. I'm staying with her."

Bramell did not bother to argue the point. He turned and walked down the stairs. His footsteps hit each step with the weight of a condemned criminal on the way to the gallows. They faded along the corridor below. A door banged shut, and then there was silence.

Tevi paced the length of the passage. Her eyes stared through the window at the end, haunted by her brief glimpse of Jemeryl's pale face and the cold touch of her skin.

After a long time, she moved away and stopped outside the room where Jemeryl lay. The night air had grown chill but Tevi was unable to leave. The door to another of the other quarantine rooms stood slightly ajar. It was unoccupied, but the two narrow bunks were made. Tevi pulled a blanket from one and returned to the corridor. She again sunk to the floor, opposite Jemeryl's room, and wedged herself into a recess. It might be a long vigil. She wrapped the blanket around her, using one corner to cushion her head from the cold stone, and prepared to wait.

* * * * * *

The creak of the door roused Tevi from a light doze. Neame's haggard face peered around the edge. Tevi leapt to her feet, disentangling herself from the blanket. Hours had passed. A faint grey light preceding dawn lay beyond the window. The wind off the sea rustled under the eaves of the roof.

Neame looked exhausted. It was impossible to learn anything from her drawn face.

"How is she?" Tevi forced herself to ask the question.

"She'll be fine." Neame lifted a hand to her forehead and pushed back a stray wisp of grey hair. "Another quarter hour and it would have been a different story." She stood back and beckoned Tevi into the room.

Tevi stumbled passed, crying with relief. She collapsed at the side of the bed.

The covers rose and fell softly with Jemeryl's breathing. Her face was pale but a faint flush caught her cheeks. The pulse at her throat beat steadily. When Tevi caught hold of Jemeryl's hand, the skin felt cool, dry and supple. Stifling a sob, Tevi pressed it against her face.

Neame shuffled to Tevi's side. "I need to sleep. Jemeryl should be alright, but someone should keep an eye on her. I trust you won't mind doing that. If she starts to show signs of distress summon..." Neame waved her hand, searching for a name. "the... the sorcerer on duty downstairs." she finished, pointing vaguely through the floor.

The elderly sorcerer turned to the door. On her way out, she collided with a small table bearing a collar, sheered open. She picked the device up and stared at it with undisguised contempt. "Levannue... Damn her." The collar flew across the room, and struck the far wall. It dropped clattering to the floor.

The door shut behind Neame. Tevi shifted to sit on the edge of the bed. She gently brushed the auburn curls back from Jemeryl's face. The sleeping woman's lips moved slightly. Tevi thought she recognised her own name.

Sleeping curled on the hard floor had left Tevi's legs numb. To ease the stiffness she stood and paced to the small barred window. Dawn was breaking over the sea. Off to the east a pale smudge was cut on the horizon. One bright star hung low in the sky, vying with the growing light.

Tevi left the window and drew a chair across to the bedside. She sat down and again took hold of Jemeryl's hand. At that moment, the simple contact was the most precious thing in Tevi's world. Her eyes fixed on her lover's face.

It was nearly a year and a half since she had left Storenseg. Much had happened. Tevi remembered the young bandit she had killed, and the distress she had felt. Her expression became grim. Now there was someone she wanted to kill. Tevi knew that, when Levannue lay dead before her, there would be no regrets.

Continued in Part Four - The Chalice.

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