Chapter 2

wished she could let him go, that she could look the other way and let him

take the Order’s donation money to buy some fish and flatbread. Times had

been difficult for many these last years of the war, and Zenia hadn’t forgotten

what it was like to go hungry and to have hunger turn into desperation.

But she had sworn an oath long ago to do the Water Order’s bidding, to

protect the interests of the temple and all it employed. If the laws were

ignored for one, they might as well be ignored for a thousand. Besides, she

could never let a criminal go with Archmage Sazshen looking on.

As Zenia stepped forward, believing the man would give up, he threw

another terror-filled look at her and leaped to his feet. He whirled to sprint in

the other direction.

By now, Rhi had caught up with him. She launched a fist at his face. His

nose crunched loudly enough that Zenia heard it from several paces away,

even over the rumble of a nearby steam carriage and the gurgle of the

fountain. The blow dropped the man to his back.

As Zenia approached, Rhi knelt to pat down the thief. Groaning and

dazed, the man brought shaky hands to his nose but did not object to the

search.

Rhi produced a jangling pouch and handed it up to Zenia. A witness in the

temple had seen the man slip the donation coins into the pouch, so there was

no question that they belonged to the Order.

“All those hours I spend sparring with Jagarr and throwing sandbags

around in the gym,” Rhi said, shaking her head, “and criminals are more

terrified of you than they are of me.”

She truly sounded disgusted.

“It’s the pin that terrifies them.” Zenia accepted the pouch and pointed to

the dragon claw pin attached to the front of her robe, the pin that marked her

as an inquisitor. “Those with sins staining their souls get nervous when an

inquisitor of any of the Orders comes around.”

“I’m not arguing that, but you’ve got a special reputation in the city. And

don’t tell me you don’t know it.”

Zenia grimaced as Rhi hefted the thief to his feet, tears streaming from the

man’s eyes. She was aware of her reputation and the fact that she was known

as the Frost Mage—and occasionally the Frost Bitch, depending on who was

listening.

She never knew how to feel about it. In the early years, she had been

proud, because it had come about due to all the crimes she’d solved, all the

underworld felons she’d located and brought in. She’d risen to her current

level of fame—or perhaps infamy, at least in the eyes of guilty parties—three

years ago after finding and defeating the elusive Dark Stalker, a man who’d

raped and murdered his way up and down the kingdom coast.

She remained proud that she was good at her job, but her reputation did lead to a degree of isolation that she hadn’t anticipated. Even within the

temple, she had few friends, and she wasn’t sure why that was. It had been

years since a man had asked her out to dinner or for a walk on the beach.

Even though she was focused on her career and told herself companionship

wasn’t important, she sometimes wondered if she would die without ever

marrying and having children, without finding someone she loved and who

loved her.

Her gaze drifted up the long marble steps to where Archmage Sazshen

still stood, now gazing down at them. Sazshen was everything Zenia longed

to be, with a career and power that nobody could take from her, but she’d also

never married and she had no children. By choice? Or because she, too, had

been feared by men rather than loved by them?

Realizing that Rhi was almost to the top of the stairs with the prisoner,

Zenia trotted up after them. She hoped the gaunt man wouldn’t be punished

unduly for his crimes, especially since the money had been recovered before

it could be spent.

Archmage Sazshen regarded him with cold eyes.

“Dungeon, Archmage?” Rhi asked.

“Dungeon.” Sazshen nodded firmly. “Brakkor will drop a few lashes on

his back to ensure he thinks twice about stealing again.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Rhi escorted her charge into the cool temple interior.

Zenia was glad the man would receive a whipping rather than the

traditional punishment for theft, having his hand cut off. Thankfully, all the

Orders had grown more lenient in dispensing justice these last few years. It

was anything but a time of prosperity for the kingdom, and half the city would

be without hands if punishments remained as harsh as they had been

historically. Even so, Zenia was glad she was usually assigned tough cases,

men and women who had done far more evil than swiping a few coins from

the Order’s coffers.

“How did you convince the thief to return to the temple?” Sazshen asked.

“I’m sure your monk appreciates having such a short walk to the dungeon

with her recalcitrant prisoner.”

Your monk. As if Archmage Sazshen didn’t know Rhi’s name. A few

dozen monks lived in or worked for the temple, but that wasn’t so many that

one couldn’t learn their names. And Rhi, as one of only two female monks

here, was memorable.

“He convinced himself, Archmage.”

“Handy.”

“I thought so.” Zenia thought about mentioning that Rhi had wanted to

head to the public market, believing the thief would rush to spend his ill-

gotten coin there, and that it had been she who’d deduced the criminal’s route.

She shouldn’t feel the need to brag, and it irritated her that she still had the