Sa glyph [https://i.imgur.com/plK5EWM.png]

Across the crowded market, Sam glimpsed a flash of green robe. Nana had her back to him, inspecting vegetables. Lorie stared into the distance. He squeezed past a stout norther woman and was away.

Small children, beggars, and ragged half-starved men and women were all converging on the Seekers of Light, and Sam found himself at the back of the queue. His heart bounded when he recognised Kizzy holding the basket. He couldn’t see Ellise though.

He bobbed at the back of the throng, waving at Kizzy.

To his surprise, she noticed him. ‘Hey, Sam.’ She waved. ‘Circle round.’

Of course — he should have thought of it himself. He worked his way round the back of queue, squeezed between two stalls, dodged a glaring stall-holder, and in another minute joined the three green-robed youths.

‘Hello, Sam.’ Paet smiled with obvious delight. ‘Come to help?’

‘Is Ellise here?’

‘Yes, I expect so. Where— Oh, here she is now.’

With a squeal of joy, Ellise threw her arms around Sam and hugged him. He was almost too surprised to hug her back. ‘Sam! You came back! I knew you’d come back! Shy, didn’t I say he’d be back?’

‘You did,’ Shy said fondly. ‘But maybe let him breathe now?’

She released him, but still held his hand. Sam flushed. She was beaming at him and he was grinning and probably looking really stupid. He drew her away from the others before either of them could be roped into handing out bread, and found a quiet spot between stalls.

A pair of Grey Wardens marched past, heading for the bell at the centre of the market.

‘Thank you for coming back,’ Ellise said. ‘I hoped you would.’

‘Of course I did,’ Sam said. ‘I wanted to see you.’

‘Oh?’ She smirked. ‘And why would that be?’

‘Well… I like you, I guess. Can we be friends?’

Suddenly her face was next to his, and her lips met his, and she kissed him.

‘Oh,’ he said.

‘Is that all you have to say?’

He thought. ‘I was a bit surprised, that’s all. Maybe warn me, next time?’

She leaned in again. ‘How much warning, exactly?’

Her breath warmed his cheek. He could count her eyelashes… ‘About this much is fine.’

L glyph [https://i.imgur.com/2vwU4yB.png]

After a prolonged haggling session, Nana reluctantly counted pennies into the grocer’s palm. She and Lorie walked away with a handful of carrots and potatoes.

‘I never saw such prices.’ Nana shook her head. ‘Where’d Sam get to?’

Lorie looked around. She couldn’t see him anywhere. He must have slipped away while Nana was arguing over carrots. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I dare say he’ll turn up.’ Nana said. ‘Let’s try for bread next. If we can afford it.’

Across the market, the crowd stirred; two Grey Wardens climbed the black stone platform beneath the bell.

‘Ugh,’ Nana said. ‘Midday, already. I don’t know as we need all these bells. Near deafens me every time.’

A long queue had formed at the bread stall. Nana and Lorie joined the end. Lorie watched the Wardens, while Nana struck up a conversation with another old norther woman waiting to buy bread. The two of them happily echoed each others complaints about the prices. The queue continued to grow behind them and spread across the aisle, becoming confused with queues for other stalls.

Three large men — Athanorese, by their colouring — swaggered down the aisle, pushing through the tight-packed crowd of shoppers. They wore leather jerkins leaving their muscular arms bare, presumably to show off the snake tattoos spiralling in red and green to their elbows.

At the front of the bread queue, a man shouted: ‘How much?’

The stall-holder shrugged. ‘You heard me. It’s a penny a loaf. If you won’t pay, step aside. There’s others behind that will.’

The bulky woman next in line elbowed past the angry customer.

‘Hey. I was here first.’ He turned on her. ‘Damn northers think you can push in anywhere.’

She glared at him. ‘This damn norther got money, at least.’

He shoved her. She bunched her fist and punched him in the face; he stumbled into the stall, knocking loaves of bread to the floor. The queue surged forward, grabbing for the bread.

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The stall-holder shrieked: ‘Thief! Guards! Stop thief!’

More bread spilled as the stall tipped over. Two people latched onto the same loaf. The brief tug of war ended with the loaf torn in two. The man left with the short end fell to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Lorie pulled Nana out of the way, into the shelter of the neighbouring stall. They ducked behind a large beer barrel. A limping man scurried past with a loaf of bread tucked under his coat. Bystanders gathered to watch the scuffle and mutter in disapproval.

The three snake-tattooed thugs barrelled through the audience and ploughed into the fight, shouting: ‘Get the northers’. One seized a young man and hit him. Another struggled with a stout older woman, Nana’s friend from the queue. She shrieked.

Norther men charged to her defence. Some had knives, others had snatched up bottles or tools from nearby stalls.

‘We have to get out of here,’ Lorie said to Nana.

The old woman nodded, her eyes very wide. Lorie peeked round the barrel. Shoving, shouting people milled in the aisle. The stall opposite had been overturned; wheels of yellow cheese rolled on the floor.

A pair of fighting men crashed into the stall where Lorie and Nana were hiding. The stall-holder swung at them both with an iron-bound cudgel, hitting one in the head. He collapsed. The other man ducked the next swing and fled.

The fallen man lay unmoving, blood streaming down his face, eyes open but unfocused.

Lorie took Nana’s arm. They crept between barrels to the next stall, where trampled clothing and fabric carpeted the floor. The bread stall fight had spread into a loose free-flowing brawl with knots of panicking people fleeing this way and that, trying to get away. Others were taking the opportunity to loot whatever unattended goods were available.

Dragging Lorie with her, Nana joined the people fleeing up the aisle. In front of them, a small girl stumbled and fell. A man trod on her arm and ran on without hearing her scream.

Lorie helped the girl up ‘Are you hurt? Can you stand?’

She clung to Lorie, sobbing: ‘Mama. Where’s Mama?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Lorie said. ‘We’ll find her. Stay with me and be brave.’

The bell tolled, once and again and again, a continuous ear-shattering peal that rolled across the market and cut through every other noise. Even the most determined fighter must have paused for a moment; it sounded like the end of the world. In the silence that followed, someone bellowed: ‘This way.’

A man clutching a wheel of yellow cheese as big as his head shoved past, almost knocking Lorie down. Nana yanked on Lorie’s arm, and the three of them ran.

Ahead was the black stone platform at the centre of the hall. The two masked Grey Wardens stood on the steps, waving people onward. ‘This way. Take the west corridor.’

The child twisted away from Lorie. ‘Mama!’

Lorie turned. One of the tattooed thugs she’d seen earlier was dragging a young woman across the aisle. She screamed and struggled. He punched her.

The little girl wrenched her hand from Lorie’s and ran toward the woman.

Lorie followed. Nana yelled after her, but she wasn’t listening. Blood roared in her ears and fire in her soul. She wasn’t afraid. She was angry. She didn’t think she’d ever been angry before, not like this — not with this exultant certainty, this blinding outrage that left no room for doubt.

Yes, the Voice said. This is the way. Let me help.

The child tugged at her mother’s arm. The man cursed and kicked her. ‘Get off, rat.’ He glared at Lorie. ‘What? You want a piece, little girl?’

‘Let her go,’ Lorie said. Her voice seemed to come from far away.

The man grinned, displaying crooked yellow teeth. ‘She’s mine.’

‘Let her go.’ Her hands felt hot. A tingle ran from the crown of her head to her chest and along her arms. In her mind, a door opened.

‘Or what?’

Beyond the door lay wonders — things she had never dreamed of, vast unexplored rooms piled high with treasures shrouded and hidden — but much as she wanted to, there was no time now to examine any of it.

Here. Use this.

Lightning crackled between her hands. The man’s eyes widened. The bolt struck him in the chest and sent him flying backward to crash into a stall. The debris burst into flame.

Lorie strode to the young woman and helped her up. She clung to her child and both of them stared at Lorie, pale and wide-eyed. ‘Can you walk?’

The woman nodded dumbly.

Lorie glanced at the man’s body. He lay very still. His chest was blackened where the lightening had struck. Flames licked at his arm. Was he dead, or only unconscious? Had she killed him?

The rage had faded into an echoing, hollow strangeness. She felt cold and distant from herself, as if she watched her own body from afar. The door in her mind had closed, or perhaps had only been her imagination — but no, she sensed it was still there. When she was ready, it would open again.

Five snake-tattooed men advanced up the aisle through the scattered wreckage of stalls. When they reached the body, they stopped, and stared at Lorie.

The woman and her daughter had fled, she realised. She stood alone, but she wasn’t afraid, and she wouldn’t run.

Good. Burn them all.

She clenched her fists. It would be easy. Fires already burned; she could gather the flames and scour this place down to the bedrock. In her mind’s eye, she saw how it would be, how the men would run and scream and blacken in the fire-storm.

— No. Not that. I don’t want to.

A tall, grey-clad figure strode past her, sword in hand. The group of thugs eyed the longsword. Armed as they were, with knives and clubs and broken bottles, they didn’t seem keen to take him on, even with the advantage of numbers.

Lorie backed away. A hand grasped her shoulder from behind. She whirled to see the other Grey Warden. ‘West corridor. Go,’ he said, his voice grating through the steel mask.

She nodded and ran back to the stone platform beneath the bell. Nana seized her arm and together they picked their way through the broken and over-turned stalls. Few stall-holders remained to defend what was left of their goods from scavenging looters.

A stream of the walking wounded, shocked, and lost were heading for the west corridor. Lorie noticed the young woman she’d rescued, stumbling along as if dazed, her daughter dragging her by the hand.

At the west exit, a Grey Warden ushered the wounded down the corridor. He stared at Lorie, his eyes dark slits in the blank mask. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘No. We live to the north. Is it safe that way?’

‘I don’t know.’ He waved them into the tunnel. ‘We’re directing the injured to the Refuge. You’re welcome to wait there until things quiet down.’

Nana followed the limping stragglers, and Lorie went with her.

Why do you fear?

— I’m not afraid.

You are. Why turn away from the power? It felt good, didn’t it, to do what was right?

— I don’t want to hurt people.

To hurt those who deserve to suffer is not wrong. To protect the weak, to punish evil, this is not wrong. You can do these things. That and more.

— Go away. Leave me alone.

Firmly she pushed the Voice back into the dark corner of her mind from whence it came, and shut the door on it, and barred, and locked it.

She had thought the Voice her own imagination at first, then she’d feared it was something else, something that shouldn’t be inside her. Hard as she tried to shut it out, to silence it, it always found a way back.

And now she didn’t know what to think. When she had blasted that man with lightning, it had felt so right. The Voice hadn’t done it. It hadn’t told her what to do. It was her decision to act, her power, her who had killed a man. All her.