Not even you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said, dancing back from the edge of the trap. “I’m the simplest person you’ll ever meet.”

She’d been hollowed out, emptied of all complicated emotions and designs. The only purpose left in her heart was to strike at the empire in any way she could.

Janek traced a circle behind her shoulder blade, making her shiver. When she looked up, he was watching her, his expression lazy, his eyes sharp.

“What do you know about sorcerers, Lorel?”

She shrugged. “Not much. Only what I’ve heard from the tales the troupe master used to tell to wide-eyed children on the nights of the dark moon.”

He tucked an arm behind his head and regarded her attentively. “Tell me.”

For a moment, she was tempted to tell him that half of the servants at the Keep believed he was a sorcerer, but she overcame the impulse. If Janek was a sorcerer, he would hardly admit it, and she didn’t want to offend him. Besides, it was an obviously false rumor. Had Janek been a sorcerer, he wouldn’t have the emperor’s approval, and he wouldn’t have survived Belorn.

“Sorcerers practice death magic,” she said. “They steal the spirits of their victims in order to power their spells. That’s what drives them mad in the end—all of the angry spirits trapped inside their minds. In all of the stories I’ve ever heard, sorcerers are ancient, wasted men with sharp teeth and burning coals for eyes.”

His eyes glittered with amusement. “They sound like fearsome creatures.”

She’d always thought so. “We are fortunate that there are none on Erys.”

“There are no sorcerers left anywhere within the empire,” Janek said, drawing her back into his arms. “That is why the Order has come—to make certain that it stays that way.”

The Order would steal their gifted children. She’d have to wait until dawn to slip down into the village to send word about that. The Keepers had already taken most of the gifted children into the hills and forests where the Ghadrians were afraid to travel. Bran would be able to spread the news to any who remained behind. All of the healers would be forced to leave the villages. It would be a blow, but they would survive it just as they had survived so many other indignities visited upon them by the empire.

She wondered if the mages would follow the children into the mountains like dogs chasing a scent, or if they would they confine themselves to Ghadrian occupied territory. Would the emperor’s butcher be asked to assist with the hunt? And what would she do if Janek returned to her afterward, triumphant and bloody? Surely there were limits to what she would do for her brother and the rebellion.

Maybe.

She was still pondering the question when Janek’s hand slipped from her shoulder and his breathing grew heavy. One by one, the candles burned out, and Lorel lay watching the flickers of light on the ceiling from the retreating storm.

2

Janek Lanari, veteran of the Wraith Wars, friend of Emperor Asil Irillian, and secret sorcerer to the crown, wound his way through the village of Shadow Point. The streets were narrow and unpaved, the houses built from the same dark, local stone as the Keep. All of the buildings were single story with roofs of simple thatch. Painted wooden signs marked the shops, indicating what wares were to be found inside. The wind carried the scent of smoke and fish and horseshit. It was a simple village, remote, unremarkable, plain. There were times he wondered if it had been wise to choose Erys as the place to hide the prince.

Necessary. It had been necessary, and that was all that really mattered.