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the acorn and nodded at me sourly. “Might as well hear all the bad news at once. Tell us what you can about the brigands, Aren.”
    I bowed my head and took a deep breath. I’d had all the time I needed to think while I worked in Melly’s kitchen.
    â€œToday my parents, my sister, her unborn child, and my husband were killed.” It sounded stark, and my throat froze with the truth that I spoke. I had to swallow hard to continue. “Without them I have no close blood relatives still living.”
    I had to stop. If I cried now, it would ruin my credibility because they’d attribute anything I said to grief or hysteria. Several of the elders relaxed, probably thinking I was going to petition for help. Unlike falling mountains, helping their own was well within their experience.
    â€œMy grandmother, Father’s mother, died last spring. She spent her life working as a healer, doing it better than most.” I looked at them. “I know you’ve heard stories about her—that she relied on more than her knowledge of herbs and splints to heal you. It was true. My grandmother was as fey as my brother—who died rather than become what the lord’s bloodmage had decreed.”
    Albrin blanched, and several other elders stiffened to alert—this was not usual talk for so public a place. Koret rubbed his beard thoughtfully, and old Merewich just nodded. It was hard to shock Merewich.
    â€œSo am I,” I said starkly.
    Before I could say more, Cantier set the acorn back on the table with a snap. Koret, foreign-raised, snatched it up before the fisherman had quite let go.
    â€œI expect you did not ask to meet with us here to be burned at the stake or pressed. Go on, child.”
    Tension and terror had held me for so long that I had gotten used to it. Licking dry lips, I said, “Gram said many of us no longer remember much about how and why this land was settled, and no one wants to know anything about magic.”
    Casually, Kith stretched; when he settled, his shoulder rested against mine. I concentrated on that touch and Koret’s impassive face, ignoring the reactions of anyone else.
    â€œLong and long ago, a king inherited a land full of too many people. To the west were the lands of the Black Duke; to the south was the sea; to the north was bitter cold; and to the east were wild lands. In the wild lands lived the magic creatures: trolls, goblins, dragons, and ghouls—things not conducive to human habitation. Wildlings.” I relaxed a little as I settled into the familiar cadence of Gram’s story.
    â€œSo this king called upon his mages, and they set spells upon the magic of the last of the wild lands. Here. The king’s mages bound the magic of this land as well as they could, and after them successive generations of wizards tied the threads of magic so tightly that, at last, there were no more wild lands in the world at all, no more wildlings—for they cannot live without magic. This binding allowed human mages no access to the magic either, but they had another way of gaining power.”
    â€œBloodmagic,” said Koret needlessly.
    I nodded. “Those of us who choose not to use that path have little power. And what they— we —have, we hide. Bloodmages are rightly feared—” I looked up, and as I spoke the next words, I met the eyes of each elder in turn—“and any mage can decide to take that path. You have no guarantees that I won’t: none other than my word.”
    I paused, staring at Kith’s boot. “Gram’s talent was healing, but mine is the sight . This morning I could tell something bad was going to happen—but I thought it would be something…well, something like a storm or a twisted ankle. So I didn’t say anything to Daryn when he left for the fields.”
    I paused, then said rawly, “He is now dead because of it. I won’t make that mistake again.
    â€œWhile I hid