“LET WHO DIE?” I ASKED, but Bavol ignored me.

“At first the Daviians required minor things from us to keep them alive. A vote one way or another. The requests became more frequent and alarming. Visitors grew in numbers and the next thing we knew we had agreed to everything.”

“Keep who alive?”

“We made a mistake, but you’re here now. Perhaps it’s not too late.”

“Bavol, I don’t—”

“The Daviians have our children.”

I stared at him for a moment in stunned silence. “How?”

Bavol shrugged. “Does it matter how? Our families live with our clans most of the year. We’re not home to protect them.”

“Who do they have?”

“My daughter, Jenniqilla. She disappeared from the Illiais Market. I’ve been instructed not to tell anyone. But from the other Councilors’ faces I knew the Daviians had gotten to everyone. Eventually, we talked about it amongst ourselves. All the Councilors with children had one taken. For the others, the Daviians kidnapped Councilor Greenblade’s husband, and Councilor Stormdance’s wife.”

“Where are they keeping them?”

“If I knew I wouldn’t be here talking to you,” he snapped.

“Sorry.” I considered the implications. Petal returned with two glasses of whiskey and handed one to me. She went back to stirring her pots.

“When?” I asked, thinking about Valek’s comment that the Vermin had been planning this before Cahil had gotten involved.

“Fourteen days ago,” Bavol whispered.

I thought back. Fourteen days seemed like fourteen years when I sifted through everything that had happened. The Vermin had grabbed the Councilors’ families right after I fled the Citadel. It wasn’t Roze influencing the Council after all.

“Do the Master Magicians know?”

“Master Bloodgood and Master Jewelrose suspected when we wrote the letter to the Commander. Master Featherstone interpreted their refusal as an act of treason. And the Daviians forced us to agree with her and sign their arrest warrant and help incarcerate them in the Keep. They cooperated,” Bavol added when he saw my concern. “It’s a shame Master Cowan is still too young to exert much influence on Master Featherstone.”

“Do you think Roze is working with the Daviians?”

“No. She would be horrified to know they are making the decisions. We are voting with her, so she is content and the Daviians are offering her support in her campaign against the Commander.”

“Couldn’t she learn of your dilemma from your thoughts?”

Bavol’s gaze snapped to me. “That would be a serious breach of the Magician’s Ethical Code. Master Featherstone would never resort to invading our private thoughts.”

I had a difficult time believing in Roze’s high moral standards, but I possessed no evidence to the contrary.

“Should I set an extra place for dinner?” Petal asked.

Bavol and I both shook our heads no. His anxious expression reminded me I needed to leave soon. She tsked and carried a stack of plates from the kitchen.

Finding and rescuing the Council’s family members became a priority. There was one way I could discover where they were being held, but I would have to use magic.

“Bavol, I may be able to find your daughter through you. But I can’t do it in the Citadel. Is there any chance you can leave?”

“No. My guard is with me always.”

“Could you slip out the back door?”

“I have to make contact with my guard every hour. It is the only way he will give me any privacy.”

“What about when you’re sleeping?”

“He sits in the living room. Petal doesn’t know about it, since she retires so early and sleeps like a log. I haven’t been able to sleep since Jenniqilla’s capture. I’m up before the sun and can send him back outside.”

“It will have to be during the night, then. I’ll make arrangements. Just don’t be surprised if you have company in your bedroom tomorrow evening. And leave the back window open.”

“That’s Petal’s room,” he said.

“Perhaps you can make sure she remains asleep?”

He sighed. “I long for the simpler days. Never again will I complain about Councilor Sandseed’s stubbornness or Councilor Jewelrose’s petty problems.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Petal called.

“You should go,” he said.

“Do you know any way I could get into the Keep?”

“The emergency tunnel. But I don’t know if it has collapsed or been sealed up. The magicians dug it when they first constructed their Keep, during the clan wars long ago. I hadn’t known it existed until recently. Second Magician mentioned it to me a few days before they arrested him and Fourth Magician.”

“Are Bain and Irys still being held in the Keep’s cells?”

“As far as I know.”

“Did Bain tell you where the tunnel is located?”

“He said something about the east side of the Keep, and about how it was big enough for a horse.” Bavol stood. “We have lingered too long. I expect to hear from you again. Stay safe.” He went into the dining room.

I waited a moment, then opened the back door. Peeking out, I scanned the dark alley. It appeared to be deserted, but without my magic, I couldn’t be sure. I risked it and left Bavol’s. The Citadel’s quiet streets alarmed me. Only a few people walked on the roads, and most of them were Vermin. Even the taverns remained dark and desolate.

My chances of getting through the north gate undetected didn’t seem likely. I considered going to one of the inns, but the Vermin could have people there watching for strangers. The longer I stayed on the street increased the danger of being caught.

In desperation, I found a house with an outside staircase reaching the ground of a narrow alley. Climbing up to the top of the steps without making too much noise, I stood on the handrail and reached for the edge of the roof. I discovered a problem with marble buildings as I tried to use the wall to push myself onto the roof. My foot slipped and I just managed to regain my balance and avoid plummeting four stories to the ground.

In the end, I employed my acrobatic training and made a leap of faith onto the roof. Good thing these same marble walls were thick enough to mask the sound of my thud.

I lay on the flat roof, gasping, glad Valek hadn’t been here to see my awkward ascent. His ability to scale the Commander’s castle walls was now more impressive. I wondered if he would be worried when I failed to come back. Perhaps it was for the best that I had stayed too long with Bavol. Multiple trips through the gate would arouse suspicion.

The night air turned cold. I huddled in my cloak and slept. Dreams of fire haunted me. No matter where I ran to or where I hid, the flames always found me. Always.

I woke sweat soaked in the morning light, achy and feverish. The prospect of climbing down from the roof unseen and finding Fisk was as appealing as taking a cold bath. At least descending proved easier than ascending the roof. I made it down the stairs and into the alley without incident. Although the thumping in my head failed to stop.

Bleary-eyed and tired, I searched for Fisk at the market. Remembering his meeting room, I hid nearby and waited for him.

The group of children who left the building caused me to smile. So intent on their day’s work, they moved with purpose and carried themselves with a businesslike air. After they disappeared from sight, Fisk appeared beside me.

“Did something happen?” he asked.

“Nothing bad. I have another job for you.” I told him what I needed and he thought he could help me. “I don’t want anyone to get into trouble, though.”

“Don’t worry, you picked a good night.”

“Why is it good?”

“It’s Midseason’s Night. We celebrate the midpoint of the cold season. Gives everyone something to look forward to.” Fisk grinned. “Doesn’t Ixia have something similar?”

“Yes. They hold an annual Ice Festival. People display their handcrafts and get together to exchange ideas. I just hadn’t realized we were this far into the season.”

“The celebration’s bound to be quieter this year, but there should be enough activity to hide ours.” This time Fisk’s smile held a hint of mischievousness, reminding me of Janco.

I’d bet Janco had been pure trouble as a kid. At least I hadn’t upset him and Ari before leaving Ixia. Then again, since I hadn’t brought them along, they could be annoyed with me, too.

We made plans for the evening and Fisk told me of a place where I could stay to wait for the night. After he left, I walked over to the Council Hall. I made a loop around it while trying not to appear as if I held any special interest in the square structure. The activity on the wide steps leading to the first floor was busy. The Councilors’ offices, the great hall, record room, library and Citadel’s jail all resided inside. My interest lay in the record room. Information from all the clans had been stored there, and I wanted to find any mention about the magician’s emergency tunnel within the records. Or perhaps the library would have some reference to the Keep’s layout?

Bain’s private stash of books most likely contained the information I needed. The irony of my situation was not lost on me. The Second Magician had told Bavol about the tunnel’s existence because he knew Bavol would be the first person I would contact. What Bavol had thought was an interesting tidbit of information turned out to be a message for me.

The lack of details remained a problem. East side of the Keep and big enough for a horse didn’t give me much to go on.

The flow of people in and out of the Council Hall stayed steady. However, a few Vermin hung about and I decided not to risk my life for research.

When I headed back toward the market, a strange feeling touched my back as if a thousand little spiders crawled up my spine in unison. Turning a corner, I glanced to the side. A male Daviian walked a small distance behind me. He wore red pantaloons and a brown hooded short cape. When I rounded another corner, he remained on my tail.

His scimitar glinted in the sunlight. I entered the market. Pausing at a vegetable stand, I hoped the Vermin would pass me, but he leaned on a lamppost. Small darts of panic began to pierce my heart. If the Daviian was a Warper, I wouldn’t be able to lose him.

Joining with a group of women, I stayed with them as they shopped. The man kept pace with us. I needed a distraction and fast.

One of the women in the group paid for a beaded necklace. She had been rather loud and full of opinions as we went from stand to stand, and she made her annoyance over my unwanted presence clear to me.

When the stand owner handed her the wrapped package, I leaned over and whispered to her, “He sold that very same necklace to my friend for two silvers last week.”

The woman had just paid four silvers. As predicted, she loudly demanded the same price and the confused seller tried to reason with her. The ensuing argument drew a considerable crowd and I squeezed between them, hoping to lose the Daviian.

No luck. He caught sight of me and followed. A few shoppers temporarily blocked his way, and I ducked under one of the market stands.

Not the best decision, but I had run out of options. I hunched under the table. A purple cloth had been draped over it and the material hung to the ground. A few bolts of fabric and a box of buttons had been stored underneath.

I wondered when it would be safe to leave. Popping up just as the Vermin walked by wouldn’t be ideal, so I squirmed into a more comfortable position to wait.

The purple fabric pulled aside. I froze.

A man’s face peered through the opening. “Your friend’s gone. It’s safe to come out.”

He backed away when I started to move. “Thanks,” I said, brushing the dirt off my cloak.

“Attracting their attention is never a good thing,” the man said. His round face held a serious expression. “People tend to disappear around here. Especially those with five golds on their head.”

I calmed my furious heartbeat. The stand owner knew I hid under his table and he hadn’t reported me. At least not yet. Perhaps he wished to strike a bargain? Something like six golds to keep quiet.

“Don’t worry. You’re a friend to Fisk and his guild. And just the fact the Daviians would be willing to pay five golds for your capture means you, of all people, scare them. I hope for the sake of my family the reason you scare them is because you can do something to bring our normal lives back.”

“I scare them,” I agreed, thinking about the Sitian Council and how terrified they had been over me being a Soulfinder. “But I don’t know if I can restore your old way of life. I’m only one person.”

“You have Fisk’s help.”

“Until my money runs out.”

“True. That little scamp, forcing me to make an honest living!” The man paused and considered. “Aren’t there any others to help you?”

“Would you help me?”

He blinked in surprise. “How?”

“Not all these Vermin are Warpers. They carry scimitars and spears, but look around you—they are outnumbered.”

“But their Warpers have powerful magic.”

“You don’t have any magicians? No one has escaped from the Keep? No one has come from the other clans?”

His eyes lit with understanding. “But they’re scattered around the Citadel. They hide in fear.”

“A concerned citizen needs to convince them to act despite their fear, to organize them and, when the time is right, to lead them.”

“You can do that. You’re the Soulfinder.”

I shook my head. “My presence would jeopardize the efforts. I’m needed elsewhere. If you’re determined, you will find the right person.”

The man smoothed out the fabric on his table. He appeared deep in thought. “Merchants come and go from the Citadel all the time… caravans of goods…”

“Just be very careful.” I started to walk away.

“Wait. How will we know when the time is right?”

“I have a bad feeling that you won’t be able to miss it.”

After the day settled into night, I met up with Fisk and his uncle. People walked the streets in good humor despite their Vermin watchers and the late hour. While Fisk went to prepare for later, I led his uncle onto the roof.

Once we ascended, we traveled over the roofs of the Citadel to Bavol’s dwelling. If they weren’t out celebrating, the other residents had already gone to bed. I pulled the rope Fisk had bought for me from my pack, and secured it around the chimney before tossing the end over the side.

The glow from the lamplights didn’t reach the back alley, so I hoped Bavol had remembered to open the back window. Clutching the rope, I shimmied down the side of the house and was relieved to find the window open. I climbed into Petal’s room with the utmost care. Inside the room, I stilled and listened to her breathing, steady with the occasional snore. I yanked on the rope, then held it stable while Uncle slid down. He joined me in the room with a thump. We both froze until Petal resumed her even breathing.

Bavol, awake and ready, waited for us in his room. Uncle slipped into bed, pulling the blankets up to his neck and the Councilor came with me to the back window. Living in the jungle canopy all his life, Bavol had no trouble ascending the rope. I followed.

Traveling over the rooftops proved to be ideal. Eventually, we climbed down to the ground. When we came within sight of the north gate, we found a place to hide. No traffic. I worried, and the longer the gate remained empty the greater my fear.

As I tried to decide if we should risk crossing through, a group of obviously inebriated men and women approached. With loud voices, a few of the group decided they wanted to go outside the Citadel, and a discussion ensued, leading to a fight.

When the guards became entangled in the brawl, Bavol and I slipped through the gate unnoticed. Once out of sight of the guardhouse, we ran. Our time was limited.

We reached Valek’s cottage and I hoped we would be far enough away from the Citadel and the Warpers.

Kiki whinnied in her stall and I opened my mind to her.

Lavender Lady safe, she said with contentment. Ghost upset.

I’ll talk later. No time right now. I hustled Bavol into the cottage. Valek sat on the couch, his expression set into cold fury.

I ignored his anger. He of all people should know the nature of this operation lent itself to unforeseen circumstances. However, I knew why Bavol’s face blanched when he spotted Valek on the couch.

“You set me up,” he said, taking a step back.

“Relax, Bavol. If Valek was going to assassinate the Council, you would be dead by now. He’s helping me.”

Valek snorted. “I am? Funny how I forgot. Or is it because someone forgot about me?” Sarcasm spiked each word.

Again, I ignored his fury and filled him in on what Bavol had told me. His face lost some of his ire as he considered the new information.

“Bavol, sit down. Close your eyes. Think of your daughter,” I ordered.

When he settled on the couch, I reached for power. Touching the source caused a sudden rush of relief. I hadn’t used magic in two days and reconnecting felt like being wrapped tight in my mother’s arms.

I projected my awareness to Bavol. His loving thoughts dwelled on his little girl. She appeared to be around eight years old. Strands of gold streaked her long brown hair and a spattering of freckles dotted her warm maple-colored cheeks. A beautiful child, she twirled with delight after being presented with a piece of sap candy.

Through Bavol, I reached toward Jenniqilla. Within the memory, her happiness over the candy matched her joy over spending time with her father. I pushed past the memory and tried to find the girl.

She missed her father with a painful desperation. Cold and hungry, she wanted her father and mother more than food or heat. She rocked back and forth, trying to soothe the child in her arms. The two-year-old boy’s crying had set off a chain reaction among the children in the room. A woman paced with a year-old baby girl and the man tried to cajole another two-year-old.

The gloomy light in the wooden room came from small cracks between the gray boards. The area contained no furniture and only two slop pots had been placed behind a ripped screen. From the harsh acidic smell, the pots hadn’t been emptied in a while. A coating of grime clung to Jenniqilla’s skin and she promised herself she would never fuss at her mother about bathing again. An icy chill seeped into her legs and back from the dirt floor.

Jenniqilla, I said in her mind. Where are you?

She glanced around, wondering if someone had called her name. Seeing no one, she continued to sing to Leevi.

I’m your cousin, Yelena. I need to know where you are so I can help you and the others.

She remembered how her second cousin was taken long ago, but had returned. If she got away, than I can, too, she thought.

Jenniqilla was too young to access the power source. She couldn’t communicate with me directly, but she felt the intentions of my power. She remembered her kidnapping. Somehow, she had lost sight of her mother at the market. As she wandered around, searching for Mama a man dressed in the loose tunic of the Sandseed clan picked her up. Before she could yell, he clamped a sweet-smelling rag over her mouth and nose.

Jenniqilla woke inside a box and cried for Mama. A man banged on the wood and threatened to kill her if she didn’t shut up. She felt movement and when the box stopped and opened, the same Sandseed man pulled her out and brought her to an old dilapidated barn smelling of rot. Within the barn was another structure. This one smelled like sawed wood and had shiny locks on the door.

When they shoved her through the door, dark shapes moved in the corners. Distraught and confused, she cried. A woman materialized from one of those black forms and took Jenniqilla into her arms. After she had quieted, the woman, Gale Stormdance, explained to her why they all were there.

Ask Gale where you are, I encouraged Jenniqilla.

But Gale wasn’t sure. “I think somewhere in Bloodgood’s lands,” she said. Her face grew thoughtful, and I projected myself toward her and encountered a magical defensive barrier.

She stared at Jenniqilla in shock but lowered her defenses tentatively.

I’m here to help, I said to Gale, explaining who I was and how I had found her.

Thank goodness, she said. I’ve been hoping a Keep magician would look for us. Why did it take so long?

I updated her on what I knew, then asked her again about her whereabouts.

I only had a brief glimpse. I sensed her frustration.

Visualize the area around the barn for me.

Forest-covered hills loomed behind the barn and a large stone farmhouse was located to the right. Something odd had caught her eye on the left. A glint of sunlight off a crimson-colored pond. The shape, though, had been stranger than the color. Her mind sifted through all the panic and fear of being hauled out of a crate and taken inside to find the required image.

A diamond, she exclaimed. The pond is shaped like a diamond.

It was a start. I thanked her for her help and promised to find them.

I pulled away from Gale, away from Jenniqilla and back to Bavol. A thin filament looped around my mind as I returned to Bavol. As if another power had caught me in a parasitic embrace.

Through Bavol’s confused mind, I returned to my body. Valek had disappeared and the smell of smoke burned my nose. I rushed to the window.

The stable was on fire.