The rumbling of the earth seemed to start slower than the others had. Alize heard the gasps of the courtesans around her as the pressure swelled in her skull. The jostles grew more violent and Alize grasped the chair next to her. Almost immediately Jorin’s white magic jumped free. It flickered in the dimness momentarily, a soft light in the mounting pandemonium. Alize reached out to it and it flew to her, settling warmly in her core. The High Prince stared at her in open astonishment.

In that instant the main support beam in the building’s center buckled as the weight of the roof shifted. Alize jumped back as a beam cracked overhead, narrowly missing her as it slammed to the floor, separating her from Davram and Jorin. The beam thrust Jorin’s throne on top of her and the throb of her headache gave way to a searing pain in her arm. Alize struggled out from underneath it then dropped to her knees. The screams around her continued as the courtiers fled in all directions, but Alize stayed rooted, clutching her arm to her torso until the pain subsided.

The warmth of the magic inside her turned cold inexplicably. Glancing down, Alize saw a white shining emerging from her chest. Her gaze followed its stalled trajectory to the open arms of the Mage Amrea. Her figure stood outlined by the daylight where a wall had fallen away. People fled past her, but Amrea had eyes for Alize alone. Alize could see the gray magic cracking her skin as it threatened to shatter her.

Amrea moved her arms again, this time separating Alize fully from the magic, but not enough to pull it towards Amrea.

Alize rose to her feet, keeping her eyes locked on the Mage. Another shudder in the floor reminded Alize that the building was shifting around her but she could not focus on her surroundings. Though she had failed to register the action, she concentrated solely on holding the magic inside her. The pain of her body and her head dulled in comparison to the revolt of her senses to this robbery. Amrea stood several spans away from Alize but Alize perceived her with strong repulsion as if they stood next to each other.

Alize pressed forward, dodging the fleeing courtiers to bring herself closer to the entrance where the Mage stood.

Amrea waved her arms again and the building shook with the same rhythm a moment later, leading Alize to wonder if its ongoing structural collapse resulted from the earthquake or the woman’s spell.

The Mage pulled at the echoes and Alize gritted her teeth. The Conjurer and the Kogaloks controlling Amrea would not have this magic.

Amrea had created a connection between them, a tug of war, allowing Alize to do something with the minimum consciousness normally reserved for her hunting reflexes. She used the echoes to create a shattering beam of energy to flow outwards from her across the connection. It hit the Mage instantaneously, and she watched in grim satisfaction as the outline of her figure faltered and collapsed. The pull on the white magic abruptly ceased and Alize reclaimed it as her own, feeling for the first time that it was an extension of herself.

But before she had a moment of relief, her head jerked upwards as she suddenly remembered to anticipate the Mage’s dark magic. The telltale grey light hovered in the air before shooting through the window pane and towards Alize. Alize felt the echoes inside her reach outwards and she extended her hand in an effort to contain it. The grey magic continued towards her but it slowed in its approach until it came to a halt directly in front of her.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Alize watched the magic twist in its suspension. Slowly the grey magic started to peel itself off of Amrea’s echo like smoke, a little at time. It collected in chunks until it all coalesced opposite Alize. She stared in astonishment as the last bit of grey pulled away from the remaining white magic. The glowing furl moved almost gently into her chest. As Alize blinked, the grey magic vanished.

A final quake shook the building and Alize tumbled to the floor. Sweat drenched her clothing and with her head clearing she noticed that the heat came at least in part from a fire that had somehow erupted in the building. Her arm was bleeding, but the wound was shallow. Still the people rushed in all directions around her, calling out names and curses.

A beam shifted over Alize’s head and she scrambled to her feet. She took a moment to look at Amrea’s body where it had fallen and braced herself as a different wave of heat washed over her.

She had killed a Mage.

Alize retreated into the sunlight as men and women dashed to extinguish the fire in the building. Since Amrea had fallen on her face, she had not yet attracted anyone’s attention. Alize began pushing towards the exit of the Great Hall. Outside the crowd surged around her and Alize fought against them to return to the caravanserai, but found none of her companions.

Returning to the streets’ pandemonium, Alize hoped she had sufficiently distanced herself from the Mage’s death to avoid suspicion from the court. Although the wrath of the Magi was another factor she dared not even begin considering.

“Alize!” Davram’s voice rang out, “Where have you been?!” The Sargon nearly collided with her as he arrived beside her. “I sent Kell after you!”

His words hammered into Alize. “After me?”

“The Hrumi – his prisoner – escaped, and we saw Josoun was gone too.”

“She took my horse?” Alize repeated.

“Took? We thought you left together!”

“Then Kell is pursuing her?” Alize gaped in horror, “The Hrumi will kill him!”

“You’ll need my horse!” Davram half pulled Alize through the crowds to the stables. “Onder’s gone to the Magi. He’s going to have to answer for his attack on Amrea.”

“He didn’t kill her though.” When Davram did not answer, Alize tugged his sleeve, “I did.”

They had just reached the stables and the Sargon turned to Alize, placing both hands on her shoulders, “Amrea broke the rules first in attacking you. Let her death be the last of our worries.” He helped her onto his horse. “You need to find Kell.”

His words chilled Alize and she led the horse out of the stables, directing him to trot until they escaped the swarming crowds onto the main road.

The road widened before her and Alize urged the steed to go faster. Kell had a significant lead and she estimated that the Hrumi camp was located about half a day’s ride at a slow pace.

It had been years since Alize had ridden an unfamiliar horse. There were few other travelers on the road and the clattering hooves rang heavy in her ears. Through the breaks in the trees she glimpsed clouds gathering ahead of her.

The trees became distraught as Alize pressed onwards. They did not want her to stop, but there was a problem she was not understanding, a caution she was not considering. Finally she dismounted Davram’s horse. The camp was very close now and still there was no sign of Kell. The tree branches creaked and chattered with the wind.

Alize exhaled in frustration.

Immediately the forest exuded tension and Alize scrambled onto a branch. None too soon because within moments she watched Hrumi scouts creep into the area. Far below she could hear their voices.

“Another government horse,” one of the women said. Alize recognized the voice but could not place her. “But where is his rider?”

Alize’s mind worked quickly. If this were a second palace horse, did that mean they had already found Kell? Where had he gone? She posed her question to the trees and they answered her with a discomfort that resonated in the pit of her stomach. The Hrumi had already taken him.