her father's mage use symbols to work magic before, but there was something different about the way Oreg moved - like the difference between watching an artist and a talented amateur. Oreg never stopped to look something up in a book, never paused in the detailed lines he placed on the floor, though she could barely see the marks in the dim light. He never had to stop and go back to redraw anything. Even so it took him quite a while before he was satisfied.
After setting aside the charcoal, he jumped lightly over his artwork and sat, cross-legged, in the unmarked section he'd left in the middle. He closed his eyes and became still.
Nothing happened for such a long time that when the first few sparks sputtered from the marks on the floor, Tisala thought she was imagining things.
Then between one breath and the next the temperature in the room shot up from winter-cool to unbearably hot. Blue and gold sparks spewed from the black marks and lit the room, forcing Tisala to bring up her arm to protect her eyes.
When she lowered her arm, the room was thick with smoke and a dragon curled around itself where Oreg had been, filling the room.
Then Oreg stood in the dragon's place, staggered a few steps forward, and fell to his knees. Duraugh rushed to his side and helped him to a chair.
"Oreg?" he said. "Are you all right?"
The wizard nodded his head, breathing heavily. "I can't get to him," he said in a voice that shook. "I haven't seen wards like those since ... It's warded with dragon magic. I couldn't get through. If I were inside, with him, I might have been able to get him out - but not from here."
"They have a dragon?" asked Tosten tightly.
Oreg shook his head. "More likely some remnant piece - a tooth or scale would be enough."
"Are you sure you could get him out from inside?" Tisala asked.
Oreg smiled grimly. "Yes."
She rubbed her hands over her eyes. "I'll see what we can do. There is only one cleaner for that section. It'll be difficult to remove her again without arousing questions - not to mention the prevalence of mages who might notice a wizard strolling through their doors, for all that he's dressed like a cleaner."
Chapter 8
8 - WARDWICK
What you do when no one is watching reveals your true character.
Day by day I was failing, hour by hour it was harder to ride the pain. The greater portion of the panic gripping me had nothing to do with the herbs in the water I drank; I lost hope.
Oreg, where are you?
Sometimes the demons brought me back to my cell when the morning sun trickled through the small, grated window far above me. I would stare at the pale light on the straw because the window hurt my eyes. In my more cognizant moments I realized they weren't letting me sleep.
At some point I quit eating the food they left, but I managed to remember that the water was important, and I gagged it down before crawling to my straw cave.
I could tell it was almost time for the monsters by the relative clearness of my thoughts. The door opened and I tried to pretend I wasn't there, burrowing into the straw until they couldn't find me.
But it wasn't the usual monsters, because the door shut, leaving the intruder caged with me. The break in routine was frightening and the resulting adrenaline rush sent me to my feet.
A woman stood just inside the door in a plain woolen robe. In her right hand she held a wooden rake.
"Tisala." The small voice spoke for the first time in a long time, but it was virtually lost in the sea of terror that drowned me. It hadn't taken long to learn that anything new was bad.
She walked in tentatively, a horrible creature with seven heads who was going to poison me with the tears that tracked down her face. I scuttled away from her as far as I could, but she kept coming.
"Tis," I said, though I hadn't planned on saying anything at all. "Stay back. Please?" If she tried to touch me, I knew I would die. But the little voice had been forced out of hiding for fear I would hurt her.
She backed away then, and left me to my safe haven while she raked out the straw that didn't belong to my nest. I stood glued to the far wall, shaking.
When she