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all. 
    Maglarion blinked. “Yes. A most perceptive child, you are. A pity you have no arcane talent. I suspect you would have made a far better student than Laeria ever would. Still, I shall take the second half of my payment.”
    “What’s that?” said Caina.
    Maglarion grinned, and for the first time Caina realized how cold that gray eye was, like a disk of ice glinting in his face. 
    “Why, you are, my dear. Laeria assured me that you were virgin, and I have much need for a virgin’s blood in my work.”
    Caina ran for the door.
    Maglarion laughed and crooked a finger. 
    And his will fell upon her mind like a thunderbolt. Her mother’s will had been a slender hand, groping and clawing its way through her thoughts like a shuffling rodent. But Maglarion’s will was a mailed first, an iron hammer, and he beat through her resistance with ease. Caina went rigid, every muscle locked in place by the power of Maglarion’s sorcery. She struggled against his grip, but it was like trying to fight a stone wall. 
    Even with the aid of stolen blood, Laeria had never been able to do anything like that. 
    “Still fighting?” said Maglarion. “You are strong. A pity, indeed, that you do not have any arcane talent.” He looked away from her. “Ikhana?”
    “Master?” said the tall woman, stepping to Maglarion’s side. 
    “Gather up Laeria’s victims and take them to the sanctuary,” said Maglarion. “The foolish woman broke their minds, so they will be useless as slaves…but I still have a use for their lives. And so might you, come to think of it.”
    For a brief moment something almost like a smile flickered across Ikhana’s face, her eyes kindling.
    “Also, secure the child,” said Maglarion. “Have her bound and hooded, and taken to the sanctuary as well.”
    Ikhana turned to the men. “Do as the Master bids.”
    “Why?” said an unshaven man with ragged hair.
    A hushed silence fell over the others.
    Maglarion looked at him, a bland smile on his face.
    “Why?” said the unshaven man, glaring at Ikhana. “I signed up for profit. And there’s no profit in selling drooling idiots as slaves.”
    Slavers, Caina realized. The men were slave traders. Sebastian had told her how sometimes Istarish and Alqaarin slavers raided the Bay of Empire, capturing women and children to sell in the markets of Istarinmul and Nhabatan. 
    “We won’t get much profit with one little girl,” said the unshaven man. “So let the old man use his witchery to keep her bound. I’m not lifting another finger until I get paid.”
    Maglarion crooked his finger, his smile never wavering. 
    For the briefest moment, something like green fire flickered beneath the cloth covering his left eye. 
    And the unshaven man’s throat exploded in a crimson spray. He fell to his knees, choking and coughing, blood pouring down his chest, and then toppled onto his face.
    “Does anyone else,” said Maglarion, “have any objections? Anyone? No. I thought not.”
    “Do as the Master bids,” repeated Ikhana. 
    The slavers hastened to obey. Some hurried into the hallway, while two stepped around the desk and picked up Sebastian. Maglarion released his mental grip on Caina, and she turned to run. But the slavers were faster. Two of them seized her arms, while a third pressed a rag over her face.
    A strange, chemical stink filled Caina’s nostrils, and everything went dark.

Chapter 4 - The Necromantic Sciences

    Caina awoke in darkness, her cheek against a rough stone floor. 
    For a moment she thought she had rolled out of bed in the night. Then she remembered Maglarion and his sorcery, Ikhana and her empty eyes, and the slavers.
    She remembered her father slumped motionless in his chair. 
    Caina scrambled to her knees in sudden terror.
    She was in a cell, the stone walls rough and glistening with dampness. A massive iron-banded oak door sealed the cell, a strange blue glow leaking through the barred window. The walls and floor were icy,