Chapter 10

cities, might, so she had to be ready. The elf, in particular, had a gaze like lake

ice, and she could almost feel power radiating from him. Mage, her instincts

cried, even if he wore the simple green garb of a warden.

“No.” Dharrow spread his arms to create a barrier between his allies and

Zenia. “I can offer you sanctuary on my family’s land,” he told them, “but if

you commit a crime, even if it’s on my behalf, I might not be able to protect

you from the Orders.”

Might not? Zenia almost snorted at the notion that he could, just because

he was zyndar, have people acquitted of crimes. The days when the nobility

had that kind of influence were over. The laws applied to everyone. Or they

should. When she made it to the position of archmage, she would fight to

ensure that idea of equality was turned into a fact.

Zenia kept her disdain off her face. It looked like he was going to

cooperate, so it would be better not to goad him or his unstable companions

into action. Even if a part of her wouldn’t mind seeing Rhi punch that elf in

the nose, she wouldn’t wish for it. He was dangerous. She could tell. As well-

trained as Rhi was, it was possible she wouldn’t be a match for him. Further,

Zenia would be foolish to believe she could best a veteran with ten years of

combat experience. Her job was to beat criminals with her mind, not with her

fists.

“If you’ll come without magical coercion, I won’t use my gem on you.”

Feeling magnanimous, Zenia extended her hand toward the head of the dock.

“I’m ready to escort you now.”

“The cook said those born in the season of air would be lucky today,”

Dharrow said. “Who knew he was so wise?”

Zenia ignored the words. Dharrow walked in the right direction as he

groused. That was all that mattered.

“Stay out of trouble,” he added over his shoulder to the dwarf and elf. “I’ll

catch up with you as soon as I can.”

They didn’t reply. They exchanged looks with each other.

Zenia couldn’t read the elf, neither magically nor with mundane

reasoning, but the dwarf wore a surly expression. He didn’t like what was

going on, and he might do something about it.

“Trail behind,” Zenia murmured to Rhi. “Watch those two.”

“Why don’t you tell me how to do a push-up while you’re at it,” Rhi said,

already walking a half step back, her alert eyes alternately watching the way

ahead and behind.

“Doesn’t the Old Codex of the Monk warn its pupils not to be sarcastic to

mages of the Orders?” Zenia asked.

“Nah, sarcasm isn’t covered until the New Codex.”

“I’m sure respect has been considered virtuous and proper since the

founding of the temples.” “True, but you can be respectfully sarcastic. It’s even encouraged.

Otherwise, mages get uppity.” Rhi slapped Zenia on the back, then fell silent,

concentrating on her duty.

Zenia caught Dharrow looking at them, his eyebrows arched, and felt

embarrassed for some reason, as if it wasn’t professional to have someone

witness them bantering. Maybe it wasn’t, but she didn’t like the feeling that

he was judging her for it. Or dismissing her. She stared straight ahead, only

watching him out of the corner of her eye to make sure he stuck to the correct

path.

Soon, they would be back at the temple. She would enjoy questioning him

and finding clues in what would doubtless be evasive answers. Before long,

perhaps before the day’s end, she would find the artifact and return it to the

temple. Then nobody would question her worthiness of the position of

archmage.