“Tell me why your little sister ran away, Ayther. Perhaps we can talk to her...” Tarahn urged Ayther while they sat in his study. The young King sat across from her at the big desk and Ranick stood behind him.

Ayther laughed dryly. “I highly doubt anyone can talk sense into Xandra. It’s my own fault for spoiling her since our parents died when we were young. Anyway, I suspect – no, I’m certain – she ran away because she doesn’t want to be a bride.”

“Bride?”

Ayther hesitated. “Her marriage to the Prince of Forgja was arranged before she could even speak. They’ve been betrothed since they were born. It isn’t a covenant that can be broken so easily. We don’t need any enemies.”

“How old is she?” Tarahn frowned.

“Sixteen,” Ranick answered. “The right age.”

Tarahn looked sourly at them. “That’s easy for you to say. I don’t see either of you racing to the altar.”

Ayther coughed. “Yes, well... She should understand. It’s the way things have been for centuries. We have no say on whom to love.”

“That’s stupid,” Tarahn scoffed. “You rule your country. You can change things.”

Ayther and Ranick exchanged glances and shook their heads. “It isn’t that simple.”

“Not for women,” Tarahn said sarcastically. “But it can be done. It has been done.”

Ayther sighed. “Not without starting a war with the Forgjans.”

Tarahn snorted. “Civilisation is rather barbaric.”

This amused Ayther. “Yes. Sometimes, I think that, too. Now, please tell me exactly how you rescued my sister from the Malcor slavers.”

Falcon made faces as she stalked along the corridors back to their rooms. Tarahn and Ayther had sent her off with Xandra to sit in the eastern gardens, and Falcon had learned that a princess’ life was a terrible bore. She and Xandra were the same age – sixteen – but Xandra’s life revolved around books and sewing and planning dinner parties while Falcon’s involved lots of running, starvation, and mortal danger.

All in all, she’d much rather be a thief.

As she walked, she idly played with a small glass figure she’d nicked from an unlocked room full of pretty little trinkets. It made her feel much better somehow and she began to hum a merry little tune.

She finally reached the door to their apartments and, sighing with relief, threw it open.

What she saw inside made her jaw drop.

Daimira was stretched out on the floor with Lake above her, and they were kissing.

“Is this what you chased Tarahn and me out for?” she demanded.

The two of them looked up in surprise and Daimira’s face turned red.

“Falcon,” she gasped, pushing Lake off and sitting up. “It’s not what it looks like.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “It looks like you’re trying to tear each others’ clothes off.”

“What’s going on?” Tarahn’s voice suddenly asked from behind her. She went around Falcon and suddenly stopped, taking in Daimira’s red face and Lake’s wrinkled shirt.

“You didn’t!” Tarahn gasped.

“It was his idea,” Daimira said quickly.

Tarahn came over and seized Daimira's left arm and Lake's right. It was only then that Falcon noticed that their hands were tightly clasped together. The Mordran princess strained and finally pulled them apart.

Once free, Daimira immediately sprang up and went to stand as far away from Lake as possible.

“You shouldn’t have done it without a breaker,” Tarahn said with a frown.

Falcon was confused. "What are you talking about?"

"They tried to do a Binding Spell- No. They did a Binding Spell," Tarahn explained, sitting down next to Lake, who now seemed pretty normal, though Daimira's face was still a bright red.

Falcon frowned. "Isn’t that what they use in weddings and betrothal ceremonies?"

Tarahn smiled. "They also use it when soldiers and knights take their oaths. A Binding Spell only binds one person to another. People bound to each other can do many things, depending on their skills as mages, but mostly it’s used so that people can easily find each other. It’s a very simple and useful spell. But it has its side effects."

"Then it was a side effect I saw?"

Tarahn's grin inexplicably broadened. "In a manner of speaking. You see, Binding Spells work by sensitising two people to each other. This also means that everything you feel for each other is intensified. As you can imagine, the results can be vastly amusing but very alarming at times."

Daimira's face had been growing redder and redder throughout Tarahn's explanation until she decided to flee, running into the nearest bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

Tarahn chuckled. "Take these two here," she went on. "They refuse to admit they're attracted to each other but the Binding Spell just ruined it for them."

Falcon glanced at Lake, who looked deeply bored, and thought he didn't look like he'd ever be attracted to anything, judging by his general indifference. She turned back to Tarahn, fascinated. "What's a breaker?"

"The side effects I spoke of are very strong just after the spell is done and will last as long as the people involved are in direct contact. The side effects will begin to fade with time, until the point when a breaker is no longer necessary. Until then, they need someone to bring them back to their senses, sort of."

"Can you do this spell?" Falcon asked curiously.

"No. Only a mage can."

"So is Lake a mage?"

Lake yawned. "I didn't do the spell."

"Oh. So it's Daimira then," Falcon said certainly. "I thought she might be a mage, after she put all those soldiers to sleep." She looked at them with a knowing expression. “So that’s why you’re going to Selan. Daimira’s going to join others like her.”

Tarahn was looking at the older boy. "I don't see the reason for the spell, though."

Lake stood up. "Just in case."

"Couldn't you have waited until I got back?"

He glanced out the window. "I have to go out."

"Why?"

"To look around, get supplies." He picked up his travelling cloak from where it hung on a chair. "I'll be back around supper time."

"Can I go with you?" Falcon asked hopefully.

"No. You'd better stay inside. We don't need the Zarral police after us as well."

"I'm not going to steal anything!" Falcon said indignantly, stamping her foot.

“And I suppose you intend to return that glass sculpture you’ve hidden under your tunic?”

Falcon snapped her mouth shut.

"Stay inside," he repeated calmly on his way to the door. "It's safer."

He was gone before they could ask what they had to be safe from.

Lake walked silently along the streets of Ali-Zar, his hood pulled up, almost hiding his face completely. It had been years – more than anyone could conveniently count – since his last visit to the city and he should have had no fear of being recognized. But a lot of his friends – and enemies – did not have normal human life spans.

He browsed absently through the stalls and shops. I need a weapon, he remembered suddenly. The only person armed in their group was Tarahn, and daggers were only good for so much.

At the same moment, his stomach rumbled and he sighed. Food was more important than anything else.

He turned back for a baker’s shop he’d seen and was just about to enter it when he felt a strange sensation. The hairs on the back of his neck rose.

He was being watched. Followed.

He felt a crude touch on his mind and allowed it. A natural mage. How interesting.

For that sort of opponent, he needed no weapon at all.

Lessus the Mage was an ugly, cruel bootlicker. He was tall and thin, with sunken eyes and a pockmarked face. At one time, his left cheek had been burned by a fire elementalist who had gotten in one lucky strike. The elementalist had run out of luck immediately after that.

Lessus had the average mentality of the average man with average talents. He was cruel and arrogant to those he viewed lesser than he but disgustingly obsequious toward his superiors.

But today was the day he was destined for greatness. The High Priestess everyone was looking for was here in Ali-Zar. He had seen her with his own eyes. If he could figure out how to get her away from her companions and take her to the Queen...

The only problem that he had seen was that she was stuck in that infernal palace where he couldn't get to her. Fortunately, one of her companions - a useless pretty boy that she’d doubtless hired as a servant - had come out to visit the marketplace. Lessus had followed him, waiting for the perfect chance to grab him and force him to help. When the boy started doubling back, Lessus thought the boy had felt him, and, when the boy at last entered a dark alley between two brothels, Lessus was suddenly certain. He almost laughed at the boy's idiocy and arrogance, for anybody who could be so foolish to think he stood a chance against a mage had to be a dunce.

Lessus snickered nastily and followed him into the alley.

There was the boy, standing straight at the very end of it. Lessus sent out a probing thought and encountered nothing. The boy was stupid, all right.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

Lessus grinned. "I don't want to hurt you, boy. I only want your help."

“My help?"

"Yes. You look like an honest, hard-working sort. I know a good tavern hereabouts. What say you we go there and talk about it over a few drinks?"

One of the boy’s eyebrows shot up. “What kind of help?” he insisted.

Lessus sighed. “I’ve been looking for a certain woman. She’s an old acquaintance, and I believe you can arrange for us to meet.”

“Oh?”

The boy’s insolence was irritating. Lessus made a mental note to kill him as soon as he no longer served any purpose.

Lessus forced a smile. “Yes. You see. I’d like to surprise her. If you could arrange for her to pass by Rose Street later today, I’d be very grateful. We haven’t seen each other in a long while and she’ll be so delighted—”

The boy actually laughed and Lessus' blood boiled. "Try making up another excuse, mage. That’s a pretty poor lie you’ve just cooked up."

Lessus was momentarily startled. The boy was not as stupid as he looked. He ground his teeth together and stepped toward him. “I’d be very grateful,” he said, shaking his purse meaningfully.

"I wouldn't get any closer, if I were you," the boy warned.

Lessus stopped moving, and smiled a grim smile. "This is close enough for me, boy. Last chance: are you going to help me or not?"

“Hmmm... Let me think... No. I don’t think so.”

Lessus sneered. “Maybe you misunderstood. Let me make it clearer to you.” He gestured sharply and a thick bolt of lightning appeared out of the blue, heading straight for the foolish dolt's shoulder. It would hurt him and shock him and, hopefully, convince him to be cooperative.

The only problem was, he wasn't there anymore.

Lessus glanced up as an elbow - and the rest of the boy – fell from the sky and crashed into his head. They tumbled to the ground and the boy rolled easily to his feet.

"You're too slow, mage," the boy smirked. "Is your Queen running out of sorcerers?"

Lessus got up, only to be kicked down again, a foot planted firmly on his chest. "I can destroy you with a thought, boy!" he shouted indignantly.

"Then why haven't you?"

Lessus blinked up at him. The boy seemed different now, and Lessus was skilled enough to feel magic emanating from him. His eyes, which had been a dark, cloudy colour before, were now a brilliant summer blue. Lessus felt fear suddenly creeping through his veins. He had seen eyes like them once before. The Queen’s eyes burned with the same fire. They shone with the same power. Had he made a fatal mistake in underestimating the boy?

"Now, mage. Who are you and what is it that you want from us?" he demanded.

Lessus raised a hand to gesture again but stopped when a ball of fire suddenly appeared just above him.

"Do you want the other side of your face scarred, too?" the boy asked coolly.

"Please," he blubbered, eyeing the fireball nervously. “Take the fire away and I’ll tell you.”

“Do you still think I’m an idiot? Answer me mage. I’m getting tired and the flame might just slip out of my control.”

“All right, all right! I’m a monitor! I know who that woman you’re travelling with is and that the Queen has been looking for her.”

"How many of you are in Ali-Zar?"

"There’s only me," Lessus said truthfully. "It's too dangerous here."

He narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean, dangerous? Why?"

Lessus grinned. "You’ll see in a day or two."

The boy suddenly looked up. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

"Can't you hear it? That whirring noise -- like wings."

Lessus' face paled. "No! They started early! I must get out of here!" The fireball disappeared and he sighed in relief. His relief didn't last long. A hand was at his throat.

"Sleep," the boy's voice said softly. Then he paused before adding, as an afterthought, "For six days."

Lessus' eyes glazed over, and he was fast asleep in a heartbeat.