Chapter 3

urge to do so, to point out that she’d done something clever. She’d passed her

thirty-second birthday, and she was established in her profession. Why did she

still feel the need for praise?

“I sensed your approach and came out to meet you.” Sazshen touched the

tear-shaped gem that she wore openly on the outside of her robe, an intricate

representation of the fountain in front of the temple carved into its surface.

Most people who owned the valuable gems hid them, lest they tempt the

desperate and the hungry.

“Do you need something more than thieves from me?” Zenia asked.

“I wish to take you to lunch.”

“Ah.” Zenia had hoped for more interesting news, but she was always

willing to spend time with her mentor. “I would be happy to dine with you.”

“I thought we would discuss my retirement.”

“Again?” Zenia smiled.

Archmage Sazshen had been threatening to retire for years. More than

once, she’d hinted that she might suggest Zenia to her colleagues at the other

temples as a possible replacement, but Zenia hadn’t been holding her breath.

Even though she liked to think her work and dedication to the Order would

make her ideal for the position, there were other mages and inquisitors who

were more eligible. Older and more experienced. And from the nobility. Even

though the temples supposedly promoted people equally these days, and

ignored kingdom titles, the bias was there. And Zenia was… well, her father

had never acknowledged her existence, so it didn’t matter that she was

technically half zyndar.

“Many have watched your work and your career with interest,” Sazshen

said. “Archmages are usually at least in their fifties before they’re considered

wise and mature enough for the position—if Archmage Xan’s tendency to

place noise-maker cushions on the chairs of his colleagues at meetings can be

considered mature—but I’ve mentioned your name numerous times, and I

believe they’re considering you. If you were to complete one more high-

profile task for the Order, I suspect they could be swayed.”

Zenia clasped her hands behind her back. “I would certainly be honored to

be chosen for the position, Archmage.”

Was it possible a high-profile task was already on the horizon? Perhaps

some new crafty criminal was at work right now, harming the Order or the

subjects of the kingdom.

“As it happens, I have a challenging assignment for you right now.”

“Oh?” Zenia leaned forward on her toes, not bothering to hide her

eagerness. It had been weeks, if not months, since she’d had a truly

demanding assignment. The capital city of Korvann had been unusually

restful since news of the king’s death and the end of the war had arrived, as if

its one million residents believed a period of prosperity would return now that resources would no longer be funneled across the sea to the north.

“I find it encouraging that you appear more excited about an assignment

than a promotion,” Sazshen said, smiling slightly.

“You know I enjoy the challenge of my job, Archmage.”

“Indeed I do. I suspect that would have to be one of the stipulations of the

promotion, that you would continue to tackle difficult assignments as an

inquisitor.”

“Is that a possibility?” Zenia had dreamed often of rising all the way to

archmage, not only the highest position in the Water Order Temple, but,

because this temple presided over the capital city, one of the highest positions

in the entire kingdom. Only the Fire, Earth, and Air Order archmages would

be her equals. For a girl of her dubious origins… it was amazing to think that

she might rise so far.

“You would be the boss over the whole temple. You would make the

rules.”

“That sounds encouraging.”

Sazshen patted her on the shoulder. “Let’s save that talk for the future and

discuss this new assignment. You wouldn’t mind arresting a zyndar, would

you?”

Zenia imagined her eyes flaring with inner fire. Usually the kingdom’s

nobles were untouchable, above most of the laws of the land—and they knew

it—but if a crime was grievous enough, they could be brought in for an

inquisition and punishment. And she loved bringing in those arrogant entitled

sots. Maybe it made her petty, but she couldn’t help it. So many of them did

not deserve all that they had.

“I would not mind,” Zenia said calmly, hoping her feelings didn’t show.

“Good. Good. Because an artifact was stolen from the temple several

years ago. Now that the war is over, and the soldiers are returning home, we

may be able to get it back. You may be able to get it back.”

“I’m ready. Who has it?”

“Zyndar Jevlain Dharrow.”