He grabbed my shoulders and hauled me to my feet. “You don’t give me orders.”

“She’s right,” Hanni said. “We need to leave town. All of us.”

Cahil turned to her. “Oh?”

She stood. “A week ago, I believed in Bruns and the Cartel and would have given my life to support them. Now I won’t.” Hanni met my gaze. “I’m thinking clearly for the first time in seasons.”

Sladen and Faxon stood on either side of Hanni in a show of support. I suppressed the desire to pump my fist.

Cahil released me and sank into his chair. “I hate—and I mean loathe—having to say this, but...you’re right. Bruns has been using magic.” He held up a hand. “But, I still believe he is trying to protect Sitia and is doing an excellent job of training soldiers and magicians on how to work together.”

Being an adult, I did not gloat or act smug or do any of the childish actions my emotions urged me to do. Instead, I said, “That’s why we need you, Cahil. There is still a slight chance the Commander will attack, and Sitia should be prepared, but Bruns’s methods are unconscionable. Our goal is to stop the Cartel and get the Council back into power. We can best meet that goal with you remaining in your position.”

“And spying for you?”

“Yes. And perhaps waking others up so they’re loyal to the Sitian Council and not the Cartel.”

“Which will be difficult if Bruns’s magicians do frequent sweeps for null shields. It took us a week.”

“One problem at a time,” I said. “Right now, you and your people need to avoid that sweep. Perhaps leave for a training exercise?”

“That would work, except...” Cahil rubbed his face. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Doing what?” I asked.

“Switching sides. Betraying Bruns. Working with Valek.” He waved a hand. “Take your pick.”

“It’s the right thing to do, and you know it.”

Drawing in a deep breath, he said, “Then I should tell you that your father and sister-in-law, Mara, have been captured. They’re on their way here, and so is Bruns.”

11

VALEK

The door to the Commander’s apartment flew open. Owen Moon strode in as if he owned the place. Tyen, another powerful magician, trotted at his heels. Time to go. Valek backed toward the window, but his connection to the power blanket disappeared suddenly. Owen had surrounded Valek with a null shield. Unwilling to let the magician know the shield could no longer trap him, Valek froze as if caught. Signe vanished, and the Commander returned.

“What did you hope to accomplish with this little stunt?” Owen asked Valek. There was more gray in his short dark hair than Valek had remembered, and he looked older than his forty-four years.

Valek didn’t respond.

“Still hoping to save your commander?” Owen laughed. “Trust me, it’s too late.”

Not quite, but Valek wasn’t going to correct him and expose Signe.

“So, what do we do with you now?” Owen asked no one in particular. “You are wanted for treason. I say we arrest you and then publicly execute you.”

“That won’t work,” the Commander said. “He’ll escape the dungeon. It’s best to take care of him now. We can display his dead body so his loyal corps will understand who is in charge.”

Even though Valek knew Owen controlled the Commander, the comment still stabbed right through him like a hot poker. Owen frowned at the suggestion. Probably because the Commander didn’t immediately agree with him.

“Tyen, what do you think?” Owen asked.

The broad-shouldered magician was the same age as Owen. They had attended the Magician’s Keep together. “I think we should finish what we started two months ago and push him out the window.”

Tyen’s ability to move objects would make that easy for him to do. And Valek couldn’t use his darts to defend himself, because Tyen would knock them aside with his magic. Fear coiled in his stomach.

Owen grinned. “I agree. And this time, he doesn’t have any friends to come to his rescue.” He straightened his arm, spread his fingers and thrust his palm toward Valek.

Valek reacted as if a force had slammed into him. He shuffled backward until his legs hit the windowsill. Blood slammed in his heart. He met Owen’s triumphant gaze.

“Goodbye, Valek,” he said, once again extending his arm.

Seeing no other way to escape, Valek fell back through the window. Twisting at the last moment, he hooked a hand on the ledge to slow his momentum and swing his body close to the wall. But his fingers slipped off. Butterflies spun in his stomach as he hung suspended in midair for a fraction of a second before gravity pulled him down.

Air roared in his ears as he fell. Then the unmistakable thwack of a crossbow sounded a second before an iron bolt slammed into the stone right next to him. When a second bolt appeared on the opposite side, Valek realized the significance. He grabbed the shaft as he slid past, slowing his descent. Another bolt materialized, and he seized it with both hands. With a jerk that sent a throb of pain through his arms and shoulders, Valek stopped his fall. He dangled two stories above the ground.

A couple more bolts arrived below him, and he quickly used them to reach safety. The guard assigned to watch the wall must have recognized him. Valek waved a thank-you and then dashed away before Owen could retaliate. Valek hoped the man or woman had a believable story to tell Owen about why he or she shot the bolts.