LITMIR.BIZ

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throughout were the source of the smell.

      When Bain’s assistant arrived, he brought tea and Second Magician Irys Jewelrose, my mentor and friend. Bain must have mentally communicated to her about my arrival. I stood, but she kept her distance as the man poured three cups of tea and set the steaming pot down amid the clutter on the table.

      “Do you require anything else, sir?”

      “No, thank you.”

      He left and Irys rushed over to embrace me. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.”

      Tears welled, but I calmed as I breathed in her comforting apple-berry scent; more crying wouldn’t solve anything. I squeezed her back and moved away. Her emerald-green eyes held concern and a promise.

      Bain gestured for us to sit. Two more armchairs faced the ones Bain and I occupied. Irys handed out the cups before settling in. I clasped mine in both hands, letting the warmth seep into my fingers.

      Bain gazed at me over the rim of his cup. “Tell us.”

      Starting with the attack, I told them everything that had happened. They sat in silence, absorbing the information. Then the questions started. I answered them as best as I could.

      “Do you know of a poison that robs a magician of her power?” I asked them.

      “No,” Irys said.

      After a few moments, Bain said, “I do not know of a substance that has that ability. If it exists, it would be a formidable weapon against magicians.”

      “What do you mean if? Do you think I’m making this up?” I put my cup down. It clattered on the saucer.

      “No, child. I’m merely considering other possibilities besides poison. Perhaps there is another reason for your condition.”

      “Oh. Like a null shield?”

      “Correct. Except it is not a shield.”

      “How do you know?”

      “I can sense your surface thoughts and my magic helped soothe you. Which also means you are not immune to magic.”

      I sucked in a breath. Bad enough to be without magic, but to be at its mercy... This was just getting worse and worse.

      “Perhaps your magic was siphoned,” Irys suggested. “Opal no longer has the ability, but there’s a chance another magician has learned the skill. There was a gap in time between the arrow strike and your bout of...fever—for lack of a better word.”

      If that was the cause, my magic was gone forever. Unless there was a vial of my blood around, which I doubted. So far, no one could duplicate Opal’s glass magic, but Quinn Bloodrose’s magic was also linked to glass.

      “What about Quinn?” I asked.

      Irys considered. “He’s attending classes here. I don’t think he’s left the Keep. However, we can talk to him. And I can contact Pazia Cloud Mist to see if she has any ideas. Her magic was accidentally siphoned and since then she’s been working with glass, making those super messengers.”

      A queasy unease roiled. “I don’t want word to spread about me. I’ve too many enemies.”

      “I’ll be discreet and won’t mention you,” Irys said. “I’ll check the logbook at the gate. If Quinn left the Keep, there will be a record of it.”

      The vise around my chest eased a little.

      “And I will scour all my books for information,” Bain promised. “I am sure Dax will be happy to translate the languages I am unfamiliar with.”

      I smiled at Bain’s word choice. My friend Dax would be happy to complain and whine nonstop about the task, but he was trustworthy.

      “What can I do?” I asked.

      “I suggest you visit Healer Hayes,” Irys said. “There’s a chance you’re sick or he might have some information about what is causing your...condition.”

      All good ideas. I leaned back, sinking into the cushions as exhaustion swept through me.

      “Does Valek know?” Irys asked.

      “No. He left before my symptoms started. I don’t want to alarm him. I’ll message him when I know more.”

      “We must search for the assassin, as well,” Bain said. “I’ll contact the security chief. He—”

      “No,” I interrupted.

      “Then who do you suggest?”

      I considered. No doubt Valek’s spies would be hunting for my attacker, but they didn’t have magic or intimate knowledge of Sitia’s back alleys. Two people came to mind—one had magic while the other had the knowledge.

      “Leif and Fisk. I trust them both.”

      “Would they be willing to work together?” Bain asked.

      “They have before. Remember the gang of scam artists that plagued the Citadel a few years ago?”

      “Ah, yes. A nice bit of detecting.” Bain tapped his fingers on the edge of his teacup. “However, this assassin may not be from the Citadel or have ties here.”

      “Fisk has been branching out to other cities.” I smiled, remembering the dirty street rat who had begged me for money. I’d emptied my pouch into his small hands, but when he approached me a second time, I’d hired him to help me navigate the overwhelming market.

      Eventually he founded the Helper’s Guild and recruited other beggar children to help shoppers find good prices, quality merchandise and to deliver packages, all for a small price. His network of guild members also had the unique ability to gather information on the criminal element.

      “I didn’t know he’s expanding,” Irys said. “That little scamp. I shouldn’t be surprised.” She sipped her tea. “Well, he’s not so little anymore. It’s a good idea to ask them.”

      If they had time. “Is Leif out on assignment?”

      “Not right now,” Bain said with a significant look.

      Meaning the Sitian Council might have a job for my brother soon, which led to another question. “Should I inform the Council of my condition?”

      Bain ran a gnarled hand down his sleeve. Since becoming the First Magician, he’d aged more than just the natural passage of time. His duties included overseeing the Keep and being a member of the Sitian Council—same as Irys. She, too, had aged. Gray streaked her black hair and a few more wrinkles etched her face.

      “Not about your lost magic,” Irys said. “Not until we know more. However, we should tell them about the attack. They might have intel from their clans.”

      Each of Sitia’s eleven clans had one representative on the Council, and, along with the two Masters, the Council governed Sitia.

      Bain straightened in his chair. “I believe we have a plan of attack. I will liaise with the Council and do extensive research. Irys will check the gate logs and talk to Quinn and Pazia. Yelena will visit Healer Hayes and talk to Fisk and her brother, Leif. Did I miss anything?”

      “No.” For the first time since the morning I’d woken without my magic, my chest didn’t hurt. Too bad it didn’t last.

      “Yes,” Irys said. She leaned forward. “Yelena, you need to keep a very low profile. If you interact with the Keep’s students, they’ll figure it out eventually and then it will be impossible to keep your condition a secret. Plus you’re vulnerable. Whoever did this to you knows magic can influence you. What if they use you to get close to one of the Councilors or the Commander and Valek? Or turn you into an assassin? I’d suggest you ask Leif to weave a null shield into your cloak and, once you’ve talked to Fisk, you need to go into hiding. That’s the safest thing you can do right now.”

      Run and hide? That was

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