The few modern wizards who had learned it only memorized sections of it, and they referred to the written text while constructing the spell in order to complete it without mistakes. As a result, it took extensive practice to master and took nearly a quarter of an hour to cast. Combined with the line-of-sight limitation, the spell had become little more than a magical curiosity in modern times.

  According to Arrogan, during the days when the beacons had still been active, a few highly accomplished wizards within the Wayfarer’s Society had used the spell often enough to actually become able to reflex cast it, but none of them had been third-order wizards. That had seemed strange, so Will had asked, “Why not?”

  “The founder was a second-order wizard named Flandry. He was well before my time, but according to most he was highly ambitious and never quite got over the fact that he never got the opportunity to try the third compression during his apprenticeship.”

  “Why not?”

  “His master was second-order. I told you before, most teachers wouldn’t train their students beyond their own capability. There were only a few third-order wizards at any given time, so for the most part, only their students were given the chance to try. Anyway, back to Flandry—he was jealous of those who exceeded him in raw power, so he was always driven to prove his superiority. He had a notoriously short temper and gained a reputation for threatening other wizards who argued with him.”

  Will frowned. “That doesn’t seem wise.”

  His grandfather chuckled. “He had balls, though that’s hardly unique. What was unique about him was that Flandry was able to follow up on his threats. He gained fame for challenging a third-order wizard to a duel and killing the man.”

  “Really? Was his will that strong?”

  “For a second-order wizard, it was undoubtedly exceptional, and the wizard he fought was an enchanter, so he probably wasn’t the strongest third-order wizard Flandry could have tackled, but Flandry won through skill, not strength.”

  Will knew from his experience with Ethelgren that his grandfather didn’t have a lot of respect for wizards who relied too much on relics and enchantments instead of developing their natural spellcasting abilities. “Skill? If the other wizard was third-order, wouldn’t he just suppress Flandry’s spells?”

  “You can’t suppress force spells. Flandry practiced—obsessively—and his opponent didn’t. The end result wasn’t just a win, but what the courts decided was effectively a murder. Since it was a duel, the sentence was rather lenient, but Flandry spent twenty years in prison.”

  “Twenty years is lenient?”

  “It is when you might live to be three-hundred,” replied Arrogan. “He was second-order, remember? Anyway, it worked out well for everyone. During his incarceration Flandry couldn’t do much but he was still obsessed with regaining his freedom and proving his superiority. He spent most of that time working on the foundations of teleportation and travel magic.”

  “He created the teleport spell to escape?”

  Arrogan snorted. “Maybe, but he didn’t. He waited until the day he was supposed to be released and teleported out of his cell. He made sure they saw him do it, just as a way of letting the authorities know he could have left whenever he pleased. He really became famous after that, and over the next year he founded the Wayfarer’s Society, and they began building beacons in every major city—but he would never let third-order wizards join, nor would he teach them any of his secrets.”

  “Wow,” said Will. “I guess he had the last laugh.”

  “Not really,” said the ring. “The mother of the wizard he killed wasn’t too happy about his success after prison. She killed him just a few years after he was released.”

  “Was she a wizard too?”

  “She was, but she didn’t use magic to kill him. She just walked straight up to him, and before he knew what was what, she shoved a fillet knife through his chin and into his brain. He died almost instantly, but from what people used to say, she kept at him for a while. People could hardly recognize him by the time they pulled her off of him.”

  The memory of Selene repeatedly stabbing Bug after his nearly successful assassination attempt flashed into Will’s mind, causing him to shiver. “I’ve seen that sort of fury a few times.”

  “Then you should also know that a wizard has to keep their cool. A knife is one thing, but if you lose your mind with magic, a lot more people could get hurt.”

  Will had lost control of himself a few times already. Each time had resulted in spectacular destruction, and he considered it almost a miracle that he hadn’t done something so bad he couldn’t live with himself. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he answered.

  “Do. That’s why she used a knife. Back when wizards were more common, that was one of the big rules. Never use magic when angry.”

  “You didn’t teach me that one.”

  Arrogan laughed. “Well, it’s wise to keep your cool, but we usually get angry for a reason. If I’d followed that rule, a lot more bad things would have happened than did. Try to stay calm and rational, that’s my best advice. I wouldn’t have taught you to begin with if I thought you were prone to fits of rage.”

  Will felt uncomfortable thinking about it. During the recent war, he’d lost his temper on several occasions, and he still wasn’t certain if the end result was justifiable. He ended the conversation and went back to studying the books in front of him. It was shortly after that when he learned the reason why the wizards of the Wayfarer’s Society had been able to reflex cast the teleportation spell.

  “It isn’t the same spell,” he muttered to himself in astonishment. The spell outlined on the page in front of him was less than half the length of the standard teleportation spell he had seen in the library. He didn’t have a copy of it in his personal journals, but he was certain that the spell in front of him now was not only shorter, but much simpler. But why?

  He considered asking Arrogan, but recalling the previous conversation gave him a pretty good guess. Flandry deliberately made the public version difficult to use, thought Will. The spell laid out before him now was complex, but not so complex that he couldn’t memorize it. It was probably around sixth- or seventh-order in complexity, and Will had already mastered other more difficult magics. There was no reason he couldn’t do the same with this one.

  Being able to cast it relatively quickly would be handy in certain situations, and if he could eventually reflex cast it, then it would be immensely useful both in combat and when traveling, unless the energy cost was extremely high. He’d have to practice with it to know for sure. The line-of-sight limitation was still a problem, but as he read further, it seemed that some of the members of the Wayfarer’s Society could teleport great distances—without having a beacon to target.

  Unfortunately, the text didn’t explicitly state how that was done. It laid out the necessary qualities for a teleport beacon to operate successfully and then casually mentioned an alternative at the end. “Of course, those who have mastered the gates of the mind may see places beyond the eye and travel farther than those who have not.”

  Will stared at the page in frustration until he realized he was growling at the book. He pushed it away with a sigh and stared at the ceiling. “But how, damn it?” Glancing up, he saw a startling pair of bright viridian eyes staring at him from the open balcony doors. Will froze.

  A grey cat was sitting quietly in a bright spot where the sunlight pooled on the floor. It met his gaze calmly for a long minute, then casually began licking one paw to groom its face. Will’s heart was pounding in his chest, but after his mind started working again, he felt a wave of disappointment wash over him.

  It wasn’t the goddamn cat. This cat was similar in appearance, but it had longer hair and a flowing white ruff under its chin as well as white stockinged feet. A few seconds later, he realized it was also probably female, judging by the head. He studied the cat’s turyn for a moment, just to be sure, but there was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen.

  It’s just a regular cat, he told himself. Or is it? The goddamn cat had also appeared completely normal most of the time—until it was necessary to be otherwise. “Hello?”

  The cat ignored his greeting, seemingly being absorbed in her afternoon bath.

  “Have we met before?” asked Will.

  His visitor declined to respond.

  “Can you talk?” He had to ask, though he felt foolish even as he did.

  The cat looked up, and almost as if she was responding deliberately, opened her mouth and trilled at him. Will sat back in his chair and let out his pent-up breath. Of course, she’s just a normal cat, he thought. Something wet rolled down his face, and he lifted one arm to wipe his cheek with the sleeve.

  He took control of himself then and sat up straight again. “I shouldn’t be rude, should I?” he said, directing his words at the cat. “Wait right there. I’ll be back.” He half expected the cat to vanish the moment he stood up, but she stayed put. Heading out the door, he went downstairs and hurried to the kitchen.

  There were plenty of things there that one could offer a cat, but Will chose a large piece of ham left over from the previous day’s evening meal and cut it into what he thought would be bite-sized bits. Jeremy, the cook that Selene had hired, watched him curiously but said nothing. Will scooped the meat trimmings into one hand and left without explanation, then jogged back upstairs.

  “She’ll probably be gone when I get there,” he told himself. Strange cats were usually rather skittish. He was surprised to see the cat sitting on his desk when he returned. She appeared completely at ease. “Did I leave a mess on your desk?” he asked.

  The female cat merely looked at him and trilled once more, sending a warm feeling through his chest. I’ve been bewitched, he decided silently, expecting her to run as soon as he approached. She didn’t, though, and after he had regained his seat, he opened his hand and dumped the small pile of meat trimmings onto his desk. Selene would have been horrified to see him put food directly on the lacquered wood, but she wasn’t present.

  “Don’t tell anyone I forgot to bring a bowl,” Will cautioned his guest as she began to nibble at the food. He didn’t attempt to pet her, fearing it might frighten her away, so he stayed silent and watched her eat.

  She seemed in remarkable shape for a stray, well-groomed and slim without seeming underfed or scrawny. “Do you live around here?” he asked. “Has someone been feeding you?”

  The cat paused and gave him a look that somehow conveyed annoyance, then resumed her feast.

  “Of course not,” Will agreed. “You’re far too smart and independent for that. I hope you’ll forgive my impudence in offering you food. Clearly you aren’t a beggar.”

  The cat finished half of what he had put down, then stopped and gave him a serious look. Will kept still. After a long pause, she first sniffed his hand, then moved closer and stretched her neck so she could bring her nose close to his. Will felt warm air as she snuffled and sniffed, then he jumped when she suddenly sneezed in his face.

  The cat bolted, and after he had blinked and regained his composure, she was nowhere to be seen. Will deflated slightly, feeling disappointed, though he wasn’t really sure what he had expected. Then, without warning, the door to his study opened and Laina strode in without warning. She closed the door quietly behind her.

  Will and his sister stared at one another for half a minute, neither saying a word, until finally she asked, “Don’t you have anything to say?”

  He covertly drew a handkerchief from a desk drawer and wiped his face, unsure if there was any visible snot on it. He doubted it though. Laina would have said something. “You came to see me,” he stated, wondering at her meaning.

  “I thought you’d start badgering me after yesterday,” she declared.

  “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “No.” Her tone was flat and final.

  “Something about Tabitha?”

  “No.”

  Will shrugged. “Then there’s no point.” He changed the subject, “How are you adjusting to the second compression? You seem to have recovered faster than the others.” Because the king already had his magical claws on her soul, Laina was the only one who Will had been unable to use the heart-stone enchantment on to facilitate the first compression. Given the fact that Laina was already an accomplished spellcaster, the task of learning to compress her source should have been virtually impossible, yet she had somehow managed it through sheer stubborn pride.

  Laina’s eyes flashed with pride for a second, but the expression was quickly replaced by annoyance. “It probably runs in the family,” she responded. “Aren’t you curious?”

  “About what?” Will kept his face studiously blank, knowing it would aggravate her.

  “About—” Laina’s mouth froze, and she seemed to struggle with something for a moment, then she closed her lips and recomposed herself. “You know what I’m referring to.”

  He knew she meant her sister’s return to the capital, but for some reason Laina didn’t want to state it outright. “I can guess,” said Will. “But I trust you to tell me if there’s something I need to know. I won’t pry.”

  “That’s a relief,” she answered, her voice stony.

  She’s really upset, thought Will, wondering at what she really wanted. Because of that, he was already watching Laina carefully when she suddenly sprang at him, hand outstretched. She was trying to catch hold of him, to bring her skin into contact with his.

  He reacted instinctively, but somehow still avoided the more violent options that had lately become all too easy for him. Rather than put a shield in front of her hand or face, which might have resulted in a painful injury, he put one beneath her leading foot as she lunged, causing her to trip and pitch forward across his desk. She started to twist, but Will leaned over and put one hand on the middle of her back, pinning her down. When Laina flailed at him with her bare hand, he caught her wrist, keeping his hand above the cuff of her sleeve to avoid direct contact.

  “Just let me touch you!” she barked in frustration. “You know you want to!”

  “It’s too dangerous. We agreed on that,” he snapped back. “You’re stronger than this.”

  “That’s not—!” Laina’s voice cut off, replaced by a growl of frustration. “Let me up, I won’t do anything.” Her body relaxed. “Your desk smells like ham.”

  Will started to let go, but then a glimmer of metal caught his eye. “What’s this?” Forcibly turning her wrist, he saw an unfamiliar ring on her hand. It was remarkable for being cheaply made, probably of tin, but what really shocked him was the oily-looking needle mounted on the inside of the band. It was clearly an assassin’s tool. “Where’d you get this ring?”

  “What ring?”

  Without further ado, Will attached a source-link and paralyzed his sister before recovering his handkerchief and using it to carefully remove the ring from her hand. That accomplished, he released the spell and watched as Laina straightened up. Her eyes grew wide with shock as she saw the ring he held. “No. How? That’s not why I came. You know me better than that.”

  “Why did you come then?” he demanded.

  A host of emotions seemed to storm across her face, but fear wasn’t one of them. “I need to tell you—” Once again, Laina’s words stopped, but this time she refused to give up. Her frame began to shiver and shake, and her jaw worked up and down until Laina’s eyes rolled up into her head. Blood trickled from her nose.

  “Stop, damn it!” Will shouted. “You’re killing yourself. Just stop.”

  Her only answer was a frightening series of choking noises. Worried for her life, Will paralyzed his sister once more, and then working from within, he forced her throat muscles to relax. Once he was sure she could breathe, he constructed a sleep spell and sent her into unconsciousness.

  As gently as he could, he moved Laina to the floor and checked her over, both for injuries—and for more weapons or poison. Using his sleeve, he wiped away the bits of ham and fat that were stuck to her cheek. He should be furious. Will wanted to be angry, but all he felt was emptiness and despair.

  “You’ve got a lot to answer for, Lognion,” he muttered. “I was going to kill you anyway, but I’ll be twice as happy to do so now. Trying to use my own flesh and blood to murder me—that’s a bridge too far.”

  Once he’d had a few moments to think, Will slipped one arm beneath her shoulders and the other under her knees and lifted her into his arms. The door was awkward, since he’d forgotten to open it first, but he managed. He sent the first servant he encountered to find Selene and ask her to meet him, then he carried his sister back to her room.

  Chapter 3

  “We’re missing something,” said Selene, worry prominent in her features.

  “It was obviously your father, there’s no doubt about that,” Will observed.

  She nodded impatiently. “I agree, but that’s why I know we’re missing something. You’re still alive.”

  Will frowned. “It could easily have turned out otherwise.”

  “Could it?” She chewed her lower lip. “Do you know of a poison that could kill you fast enough to keep you from using a potion?”

  “No, but she might have been able to stop me.”

  “She’s still recovering from the second compression—magic would be difficult,” argued Selene.

  He shook his head. “I think she’s completely over it. She’s much faster than the others.”

  “But even so, she didn’t try to fight you with magic.”

  “I don’t think she even knew she had the ring on,” said Will. “She seemed surprised, and it felt genuine to me.”