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end-all of existence. The gods knew that he had tried to find out how one worked on the Iron Dragons, although his father had dismissed the possibility the one time he’d brought it up. He was simply too blue-blooded to work on the lines, his father had said, years ago. It wasn’t until he’d grown older that he’d realised that his father wouldn’t allow him to work anywhere.
    “They call us mundane ,” the man thundered. “They call us powerless ! They call us nothing ! And yet it is us who run the Empire. The Grand Sorceress could not control her realm without the mundanes who work for her and her council. Why, then, are we powerless?”
    His voice lowered. “Because they have power ,” he said. “But we are far from powerless.
    “We trusted in the Grand Sorcerers to protect us from the dark magicians, those who would abuse their powers. But they have failed . Only six months ago, countless people – magicians and so-called mundanes – were slaughtered at what should have been the investiture of the new Grand Sorcerer. What happened on that day? We do not know! All we know is that thousands of people died!”
    Johan nodded. His father had never been able to get a clear answer as to what had happened in the Golden City, nor – to the best of his knowledge – had anybody else. Jamal had snidely remarked that the contest had clearly gotten out of hand and, for once, Johan was inclined to agree with his elder brother. But if the contest had been so dangerous, why not hold it somewhere well away from innocent civilians? Even if the powerless were dismissed, the gods alone knew how many magicians had died.
    “And we don’t even know why,” the speaker hissed. “Why, then, should we trust them?”
    A very good question , Johan thought. He knew a whole family of magicians – and most of them delighted in tormenting the sole powerless among them. Charity wasn’t too bad; Jamal was a nightmare ... even eleven-year-old Chime was a holy terror. It didn’t bode well for the conduct of superior sorcerers. Their father was a good man, in his way, but he didn’t hesitate to trample over anyone who got in his way.
    A hand fell on his shoulder.
    “Well,” a familiar – far too familiar – voice said. “I should have known that you would be here, weakling.”
    Johan gritted his teeth as he turned to face his elder brother. Jamal was taller than Johan, wearing the multicoloured robes that identified him as a recent graduate from the Peerless School; his face, thinner than Johan’s face, seemed twisted into a permanent sneer. Most of his other siblings had become unbearable after they realised that Johan was largely unable to fight back; Jamal had been thoroughly unpleasant even before Johan’s lack of magic was discovered. There were times when Johan wondered just why Jamal was such a bully, when he had so much to look forward to, and times when he felt that his brother just liked feeling superior to people.
    “You found me,” he said, fighting down the urge to cringe. “Did father send you?”
    Jamal looked surprised – and a little disappointed. “I’m afraid not,” he sneered, as he pulled Johan back from the crowd. “ Should father be sending me after you?”
    It was a little unlikely, Johan had to admit. Jamal and their father had had an argument over something and he’d moved out, setting up his own establishment on the other side of the Golden City. It clearly hadn’t been that bad an argument, not if they were still talking, but it gave Jamal a freedom that Johan couldn’t help envying. Even if he’d been older, his father wouldn’t allow him to leave the house permanently. It had been one of the reasons why he wanted to find a job that didn’t require magic.
    “...No,” he said, finally.
    “Glad to hear it,” his brother said. His eyes narrowed as they reached the corner. “But I do have a bone to pick with you.”
    Johan swallowed. Jamal blamed Johan for everything that went wrong in