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fountain carved of golden stone. Beyond loomed a forbidding gray hulk of a building. No flowers brightened its rows of tall, narrow windows. Instead, the stone surrounding each slit bore the black whorls and spirals of inset wards.
    “Ah! The Arcanum, at last.” Talmaddis leaned to look out the window with the eager relief of a man delighted to see home. He elbowed Aiyadaren, who twitched and straightened mid-snore. Her stern face softened when she caught sight of our destination.
    I eyed the Arcanum with a lot less cheer as our carriage pulled up to the arched entryway. Talmaddis had told me it served as both a military barracks for the mages on active duty in the seven Watch companies, and a scholars’ institution for those charged with maintaining Alathia’s defensive magic.
    A single mage waited to one side of the heavy wooden doors. Instead of holding himself piton-straight, he slouched against the wall with his thumbs hooked in his belt. His face was hidden in shadow, but the braided silver cord signifying a Watch captain encircled the gold seal of the Council on his uniformed chest.
    I recognized that deceptively casual stance. Our greeter was Captain Martennan of the Seventh Watch, who’d first arrested Kiran and me. Not that I remembered it, having been unconscious at the time. I’d had my fill of Martennan in the days afterward. He played the sympathetic advisor, but I’d seen the cool calculation lurking behind his show of good humor. I’d bet a thousand kenets he’d been the one to suggest me as the Council’s lever to make sure Kiran did whatever they asked.
    Talmaddis bounded out of the carriage the moment it stopped. He bowed, hands crossed over his chest, as Martennan emerged from the archway. Martennan’s dark hair was longer than I’d last seen it, standing up in soft spikes instead of cropped close to his head in typical Alathian style, but the bright smile on his round face was as irritatingly cheerful as I remembered.
    Martennan made a bow of his own and pulled Talmaddis into a brief, laughing embrace, saying something I couldn’t hear.
    “Out. Now.” Impatience tinged Aiyadaren’s voice. No doubt she couldn’t wait to wash her hands of me.
    “I’m going,” I muttered, and climbed out into the courtyard, Aiyadaren close on my heels.
    Martennan turned to me, all warm courtesy. “Dev. I’m delighted to see you safely back in Tamanath. I hear we’ve many lives to thank you for.”
    He spoke with a drawling accent far different than the usual clipped speech of city Alathians; I’d learned in the mines the drawl was common to those born in the rugged hills lining Alathia’s distant coast. As ever, the sharp intelligence in his black eyes set my stomach jumping. If the Alathians meant a word of all this gratitude, they’d be aiming it at Jathon, not me. Jathon’s idea had saved those men; I’d only been the pack mule.
    “You want to thank me, Martennan? Then let me talk to Kiran.” Let me make sure he’s not so naïve as to trust you, I added silently. Last I’d seen, Kiran had been lapping up Martennan’s helpful act.
    “Of course,” Martennan said. “I’ve arranged for you to stay with Kiran while the Council reviews your case.” His smile brightened. “Kiran’s quite eager to see you. I’ll take you straight to him.”
    Easy as that, huh? My nerves buzzed all the louder.
    Martennan stepped in close, ignoring my flinch, and ran a finger over my snapthroat charm. He glanced at Talmaddis and Aiyadaren. “Clever work. But, here…” The metal tingled against my skin. “He’s in my charge, now. Go on, you two—get some rest. I’ll hear your reports later.”
    He urged me toward the carriage, not even waiting for Talmaddis and Aiyadaren to finish their bows. Before I could climb in, the Arcanum door thudded open and a young mage scampered out.
    “Captain Martennan, wait!” She waved a folded square of paper as she panted up to us. I caught a glimpse of a thick wax