“That was one of the questions I wished to ask. You captured them; as a noble, and Heir of a Great House at that, it is your right to decide if you wish them to face the courts or your own justice.”

  At that, I feel a brief curl of guilt – have they been lying out in the sun so long because I’ve delayed this conversation? Then I push it away – they, or others in their gang left my companions to sit and starve in their own waste for days. A bit of sunburn is hardly equal to that.

  Still, I need to answer Layton. I consider the question for a moment.

  “What will happen to the Classers if they go to court?”

  Layton shrugs elegantly.

  “They too will face interrogation and sentencing.”

  “The same kind of sentences?”

  “Generally, although there are some other options for Classers.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like joining the army melee-type Classers, or working in the forges for fire mages. They are given more incentive to cooperate than other convicts – as long as they’re willing to swear an oath before a priest to respect the terms of their sentence, they can usually earn their way out within a decade.”

  I frown.

  “Why the special treatment?” Or is that a stupid question? Privilege begets privilege, after all.

  Layton makes a gesture that I would usually interpret as imitating throat-slitting, but it’s quickly clear he doesn’t mean that at all.

  “Even specialised collars either let through all Skills or none. And improved attributes are only so useful on their own. The State would prefer to get as much use out of its criminals as possible. Most sentenced Classers choose to cooperate when the other option is being sold like any other slave – without access to their Skills.”

  I can understand that. It seems more than a little unfair, but then I suppose that that’s life. And it’s the same pragmatic approach to criminals which has slavery as an option at all.

  I’m silent for a few moments as I debate various options with myself.

  “I’ve decided,” I say finally. Layton eyes me expectantly. “Let them all face the courts.” It’s tempting to take them myself and make sure they’re punished properly, but on the other hand, I’m not sure I want to see what I’ll become if I make taking revenge like that part of my life. And I don’t want my Bonded to have to suffer having them around or part of our Bond network – because there’s no way I’d let them be around us without that Bond.

  The chances are that, with the system the way it currently is, they’ll be punished more than I would be able to bring myself to do anyway. The heat of the moment is one thing. Cold-blooded torture is another thing entirely.

  “I’ll send them with the guards,” Layton acknowledges, raising a hand that has the captain stepping forwards.

  “However,” I continue and they both hesitate. “I would like to…speak to the Classers first.” I figure they’re more likely to know something about who Dexil was communicating with – perhaps I can even get something I can use against Torrent or whoever this ‘Lady’ is.

  “Of course. Now?”

  “At the manor, if you're amenable,” I ask with a lift of my eyebrows.

  “Certainly. Will your guards be willing to take charge of them?”

  “Sure,” I agree, sending Laeman a look. He nods back at me – he can hear fine from this distance.

  “On that note, would you like to return to the manor now? Or do you still have something to do here?” Layton asks.

  I open my mouth to answer, but am interrupted by Kalanthia.

  Before you make that decision, you might like to know that I’ve sensed a number of objects in the ruins – objects which I believe you may be interested in.

  Thanks for letting me know, I answer, sending her a flicker of gratitude.

  “I’d like to stay here for a little longer,” I answer Layton. “If you’d prefer, I can meet you back at the manor.”

  Layton considers it for a moment, and then inclines his head.

  “I think that would be best – there is much for me to do following this whole affair. I’ll leave Rilick’s second-in-command with you – I hope you don’t mind if I take Rilick with me. I need him.”

  “You don’t need to leave anyone with me, if you prefer,” I tell him. “I can find my way back without an issue.” I point up at Sirocco still circling above. Layton takes my meaning, but gives me a polite smile, distance creeping back into our relationship now we’re no longer in the middle of a fight.

  “Please forgive me, Lord Markus, but I would hate for any of the residents of this city to offend you – having a local guard present to offer a buffer will help avoid that.”

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  I briefly wonder if he’s more concerned for me or for the residents of the city. Perhaps it’s his own skin if something happened that he’s considering. Either way, I can see the point.

  “As you wish,” I agree politely.

  “Excellent. I shall ensure that the three Classers are brought with me to the manor while the others are delivered directly to the courthouse.”

  “I appreciate it,” I agree. “Until later, Layton.” I pointedly use his name without title to indicate that I don’t want everything to go back to what it was. The man eyes me for a moment and then dips his head.

  “Until later…Markus.”

  Seeing that I’ve finished my conversation with the city lord, Mathis moves over to find out what I want the guards to do when their current charges have been removed from their ‘care’.

  “I guess you’d best stick around with the guard who’s being assigned to me,” I tell him with a small shrug. “And keep an eye out for any assassin who might decide to come back.”

  “I’m sorry that we couldn’t find any trace of the assassin, my lord,” Mathis apologises, shamefaced. “They didn’t trip any of the preparations we made. Hasty as they were, normally at least one of them would be triggered.”

  “This one was clearly skilled,” I reply sympathetically. “Just as long as they don’t get to us in the near future, I won’t hold it against you.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” Mathis replies appreciatively, “and be sure that we will layer this area with even more alerting wards than we currently have. Believe me, the thought of returning to Lord Nicholas with the report of even the current assassin encounter is frightful enough – I do not wish to add to it.”

  “Understandable.” An idea sparks. “I got these from the assassin,” I tell Mathis, pulling out the piece of gauzy fabric, the dagger, and the bloodstained cloth. “Any chance we can use them to track The Shadow?”

  Mathis looks thoughtful. He reaches out to take the objects.

  “I will see whether Sulir has any Skills that he can use immediately. Otherwise, I know there are certain rituals that Lord Nicholas is capable of conducting that should be able to get some information from the blood, at least.”

  “Alright, thanks.”

  I’m waylaid again on my way back to my Bonded, this time by the captain who briefly introduces his second-in-command – a competent-looking fellow called Kiney. I greet the man and then ask him to wait outside the somewhat intact walls of the demolished property. Just before taking his leave, my attention is caught by an offhand comment from the captain.

  “Your slave had some surprisingly useful information about the underbelly of my city – I was sad when you called him away. Would it be possible for me to interview him before you leave, my lord?”

  “My slave?” I repeat blankly, my mind going automatically to Loran. But how the captain could be referring to him when he was kidnapped and then fell unconscious, I don’t know. And it’s not like I have another–

  Oh.

  “Rory?” I check with the captain while casting a glance around the area. I didn’t overlook him; he’s not here. And with everything else on my mind, admittedly, I forgot about him.

  “Yes, my lord.” The captain’s eyes narrow. “He informed me that you had summoned him – and I watched him run through the entrance to the property. Did you not?”

  “No.”

  The captain tenses and I see a flicker of anger pass across his face – and a glimmer of fear in his eyes. My best guess: outrage that he was fooled, and apprehension that I’ll hold it against him.

  “I will alert the guards – they will find him, my lord, I promise that.” And his tone promises nothing but suffering for Rory for running away.

  I give the captain a grin, but it’s more a baring of teeth than anything pleasant.

  “No need,” I tell him, then close my eyes and reach for one Bond among other Bonds – that which links me to Rory. Come back to me, now, I order firmly, holding tightly onto the Bond. I feel Rory jump, a sudden fright that transforms into fear as he senses my presence. He tries to fight my hold, wriggling and twisting in my grip. But with how low his Willpower is in comparison to mine, he stands no chance. I’m not even slightly fatigued by the time he’s exhausted his own reserves.

  The moment I feel him submit to the order, I release the hold and open my eyes again.

  “He’s coming,” I tell the captain simply. “Please ensure that your men do not impede him in any way.”

  Rilick looks at me steadily, his expression difficult to read. Finally he dips into a bow.

  “As you wish, my lord.” He hesitates. “And, my lord, let me apologise for–”

  “It’s fine,” I interrupt. “This is on Rory and me – not on you. Rory shouldn’t have been stupid enough to try running when he knows I can order him through our Bond, and I shouldn’t have assumed that a single command to stay with you was enough. Normally, if one of my Bonded communicates a message to you, I would expect it to be accepted as if from me directly. I don’t want this incident causing problems for the rest of my companions who are all fully loyal.”

  “Thank you for your mercy my lord,” the captain says sincerely, standing upwards. He waits for me to nod at him and then turns on his heel crisply and strides back to continue with his duties. Kiney follows me until I reach the shattered remains of what was once a gate that stretched above my head. Burnt and with the stone framework half-destroyed, it is nowhere near as impressive as it used to be.

  Inside, I stride directly to Kalanthia, rubbing the heads and flanks of everyone I pass by. Ivor and Noir get extra attention – they’ve finally landed after spending the rest of the time tirelessly watching for signs of anyone they missed escaping from the house. Now, over an hour on from the house exploding, the chances of them spotting anyone else are slim – they might as well relax for a bit.

  So, I ask Kalanthia who’s perched on the edge of the hole she made to find me. What objects have you found? And how come they weren’t destroyed by the house collapsing on them?

  They are in a heavily reinforced box – one that is hidden by magic from detection.

  I frown.

  If they’re hidden from detection, how did you find them?

  I suspect the magic was damaged by the house collapse as it’s mostly still intact. But enough leaks out from it to pique my curiosity. I probably wouldn’t have even felt it if I hadn’t dug the hole down to retrieve you.

  And thanks again for doing that, I reiterate then tilt my head to the side. So why haven’t you retrieved it already?

  Kalanthia gives me a fanged expression that most would take as a threat; I can feel her amusement, though.

  I thought you might appreciate being present when I unearth it.

  I chuckle.

  “Fair enough. Alright, shall we see what treasure has managed to survive the house’s collapse, then?”

  Kalanthia doesn’t reply, only leaping straight into the pit in the middle of what used to be the house. Peering down, I see she’s standing on a ledge about halfway down. Grinning at her, I jump and join her, excitement rising within me about what we might find.

  here!

  here!

  here!

  here