The Whitefire Crossing - By Courtney Schafer Page 0,166

my legs leaden weights, but she caught my arm and unobtrusively took some of my weight.

“Bring in the prisoner,” the bald-headed councilor said. A deep hush descended over the galleries, mages leaning over the rails. Many of their faces showed the eager, fearful fascination I’d seen once on men crowding around a caged direwolf. My stomach lurched. If they wanted to burn alive a simple courier like me, what might they do to Kiran?

On the far side of the sigil-marked floor, a side door opened. Kiran walked through, surrounded by four mages whose eyes never left him. His head was down, and his shoulders hunched. A length of scaly-looking black cord bound his hands in front of him, and he wore a shapeless gray tunic and pants. He didn’t look hurt, thank Khalmet. I tried to catch his eye, but his head stayed bowed as his guards led him to the center of the sigils.

The four mages positioned themselves at the ends of a four-pointed star incised in the floor. They faced Kiran and extended their palms towards each other. The sigils inside the star glowed, much more brightly than for me.

“Kiran ai Ruslanov, you are here to answer to the crimes of blood magic and border violation,” Varellian said, her voice stern.

Kiran raised his head, then. “Don’t call me that,” he said. A hint of anger lurked in his voice, but his pale face looked only weary. “I’m not Ruslan’s.”

“Do you deny you are his mark-bound apprentice?” Varellian said, coldly.

Kiran’s shoulders hunched even higher. He looked down again, shaking his head.

Shaikar take him, wasn’t he even going to try and defend himself? I tried to speak, but Varellian’s spell still locked my throat. Lena gripped my wrist in warning. I glowered at her, but thought better of trying anything more dramatic.

“We have heard testimony from several witnesses that confirm your guilt in both crimes,” Varellian said to Kiran. “Our law demands we now give you the chance to answer for yourself, but you are a blood mage and we cannot trust to a truth spell.”

“I will tell you the truth,” Kiran said dully.

Varellian shook her head. “The only way we can know for certain is if you willingly allow us within your mind.”

Kiran’s whole body tensed. The four mages surrounding him stiffened, and the glow of the sigils edged brighter.

I winced in sympathy. The last thing I’d want was for Alathians like Niskenntal to paw around in my head.

“And if I refuse?” Kiran asked.

“Then you will be sentenced to death, without recourse.”

Kiran looked around the Council table, a little wildly. “You...you ask for me to submit wholly to you? As Simon wanted?”

I hadn’t asked him what he’d endured in Simon’s hands. I thought of Simon’s sharp, cruel smile, and my skin crawled.

“We are not blood mages, to abuse our power by enslaving others,” Varellian said. “We do this only for the purpose of seeking truth.”

For the first time, Kiran glanced over at me. One quick, unreadable look, and then he faced Varellian again. “I’ll do it.”

I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or dismayed. Surely if they read his thoughts they’d see how badly he wanted to reject blood magic. But I feared they’d dismiss that if they saw how much he’d loved it. Glorious, he’d said.

Varellian’s face didn’t change at Kiran’s agreement, but Niskenntal’s eyes narrowed, while several others looked surprised. A councilor in brown and gray said something to her neighbor in a low voice. Then they stood, and all but the two mages began filing out. Lena tugged me to my feet.

The pressure on my throat vanished as I stood. “What’s going on?” I asked Lena.

“Everyone without mage talent must clear the room.” Lena pulled me firmly toward the door.

“What about you? You’re a mage, right?”

“My ranking is only third level,” she said. “They’ll use only the strongest of us for this.”

Kiran looked awfully small and alone where he stood in the center of the chamber.

“They’re not going to hurt him, are they?”

“No,” Lena said. But her eyes shifted aside from mine, and I knew she lied.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

(Kiran)

Kiran’s heart jolted as the chamber doors boomed shut. Sweat laced his palms. He had never dropped all his mental defenses before. The Alathians would gain access to his innermost self. They could destroy his will the way Simon had intended, leaving him utterly unable to form a thought on his own, as placidly obedient as a sheep.

But at least they wouldn’t use him to channel spells that would