own blood to cast any more spells. The woman disappeared. The crowd surged forward in a yelling rush and overwhelmed the surviving guards, who stood reeling at what the magicians had been prepared to do to them, to the Duke of Elona even. The magicians they relied upon for intimidation had been prepared to kill them, and in any case were now dead or gone. Without them they crumbled. Through it all Petri stood and stared at where his father had been, not knowing or particularly caring what went on around him.
When Bakar came back and found him, the sun had moved far past noon and was sliding down over the city towards sunset.
“Why was it that it was me you warned?” he asked, looking genuinely puzzled.
Petri had thought on this a long time and still wasn’t sure he had the answer. He felt loose and rudderless, with everything he thought true blown away – his father being noble, the guild being a substitute family he’d fallen on in desperation – and Eneko had flicked him off like an irritating tick.
“Because… you showed more interest in one hour than he did in a lifetime. You listened.” He screwed himself up for it. “And everything’s so unfair. Everything. My father and the guild throwing me to you and those children they sent to slavery or worse. Everything! Those guards that magician killed, just like stepping on a bug, because he could. You said you wanted to make it fair. For everyone.”
Bakar nodded as though this was the most profound thing he’d ever heard. “Just so, Petri Egimont. Equality for all, that was always my goal. Now, I saved your life, and you saved mine. That links us.” He put an arm around Petri’s shoulders, and Petri wondered that no one, not his father nor brother nor guild mate had ever done this before. It felt strange but also good. “I shall be your father now, and you can help me make things right and fair for all, and I will never betray you. Maybe, in time, when the guild is at heel, I shall give it to you to rule. Yes. Yes, I promise you that, Petri. I can winkle out that old bastard Eneko in payment for what he’s done to you and others. The guild shall be yours, and be good again.”
After that Petri would have followed him anywhere.
Chapter Twelve
Egimont rose early – he’d barely slept anyway, even if the lodgings were a damned sight better than his box of a room at the prelate’s palace. There had been too much to do, too many pots to stir, too many things to think on, or avoid thinking on. He dressed quickly and was out into the morning mists which blew up off the sea all the better to hide his exit from the king’s house. More to do today, always more. First, he had to go to his clerking job at the old palace, pretend he was still the prelate’s man.
The streets were still smoking with resentment and an occasional fire from the ruckus last night. Little knots of angry men and women stood around, muttering. The guards and various councillors’ men seemed to have given up trying to control them for now. Petri had no doubt there would be repercussions – of late Bakar seemed to have forgotten the lessons he’d learned from the old king’s rule, and some of the other councillors had perhaps never learned them at all.
Egimont hurried on and suppressed a smile when somebody spat at him. It all seemed to be going to plan, and Alicia from last night had been righter than she knew. Reyes wasn’t as it once was. Or had been for a long time – the last time. This time was going to turn out better for Egimont, if it killed him. It could hardly turn out worse. At the small gate into the space that fronted the once grand palace he stopped. A familiar carriage – the king’s. A familiar face peering from the dark folds of the curtains – Sabates. Egimont kept his gaze on the front door and ignored the magician’s eyes on him as he crossed the space.
He hadn’t expected the king so soon, or for him to bring the magician with him. He hadn’t expected him at all for days. Sabates had said it would be best if the king wasn’t in Reyes when things started getting heated, so he could distance himself from