Josh lay on the hard surface, churning with pain, fear and nausea from the blow. He knew he should try to get up and escape, but when he tried to move his body only stirred weakly, and he heard himself groan. Something creaked, and he felt the surface he was on tip slightly as someone moved past him. They searched him where he lay, confiscating the letter from the Abbot, the sheath of papers in his shirt, and the spell book, although they didn’t find all the little scraps of spell papers he had hidden in his clothing. He’d dropped the bundle of cloaks. Had they picked those up too?

There was a snap of leather, and a quiet murmur. The surface Josh was lying on lurched, followed by sound of horse hooves clopping against the cobbles of the street. He realised he was lying in the back of a cart.

His first, terrified thought had been that it must be Varian. But one of the abductors—a man with a deep, rough voice—said something in a conversational tone of voice, and another responded. Josh couldn’t hear what they were saying very well, but they had a thick local dialect.

Maybe they were bounty hunters whom Varian had paid to find him.

That couldn’t be it, though, because they didn’t take him far. The cart stopped and Josh was hoisted up and dragged into a building, down some steps, where he was pushed none too gently into a chair. He felt rope winding around his torse and legs, tying him in place.

He wanted to ask who these people were, but his throat was so thick fear he wasn’t sure he could get the words out, so he stayed silent. He was sure he would find out their motives soon enough. Once he was fastened securely to the chair, the men walked out and left him.

They left him for hours.

Josh had seen enough movies to know that this was a deliberate tactic, designed to make his apprehension spiral and grow as he imagined all the things that could happen to him. The problem was that knowing this didn’t stop it from working.

He started out by reminding himself that if he died, he would resurrect. It was easy to forget that in the heat of the moment, and allow a lifetime’s worth of survival instincts take over, but for now he tried to use that to keep himself calm. He had to think of it like a video game.

What would the hero do in this situation?

First, list his assets.

He had nothing except the clothes he stood up in and the spell papers hidden in his clothing. That meant he had one of each spell. He also had his ability to make feathers glow, so useful, what had the stupid Guardian been thinking, offering such a useless class?

Focus, Josh.

He didn’t know anything about the room he was in, except that it smelled a little of coal dust and mildew, and they had gone down some steps to get to it, so it was probably a cellar.

What else did he have? Well, there was the blindfold, the rope, and the chair. Yes, okay, those were currently impediments, but if he could get free they would be things he could use.

The next thing he needed to do was untie himself. At that, his imagination failed him. He couldn’t use Heat to burn the rope because it wasn’t focused enough to heat only the rope. Even if he had enough Heat spells to raise its temperature to ignite it, he would end up overheating or burning himself too.

He twisted his wrists, trying to test the give in his bonds, and realised something odd. The rope they had used felt soft against his skin, almost like silk. That was weird.

And creepy. Josh couldn’t think of any good reasons his captors might have to bind him with silk. He felt a churn of disgust and horror in his gut, but repressed it. Focus on getting free.

Despite the softness of the material, whoever had tied him had been experienced, which wasn’t reassuring either. Josh couldn’t stretch the ropes or ribbons or whatever they were, so there was no wriggling out of them.

The ropes around his chest tying him to the chair were thicker and rougher, but no easier to dislodge. Josh tried scraping off the blindfold, but just succeeded in twisting it slightly, not enough for him to be able to see anything.

He had exhausted his list of meagre assets, and established that he wouldn’t be able to escape his bonds right now, so all he had left to do was think about why he might have been abducted.

He was increasingly of the opinion that this was nothing to do with Varian, which was a relief. That left only one thing—it had to be because of the library. Had there been people watching the library, guarding it from thieves? If that was the case, why had they waited until he was out, rather than catching him in the vault? His captors couldn’t be official guards. This wasn’t an arrest, this was skulduggery of some sort.

What the hell had he got himself mixed up in?

After spending all night awake in the library, Josh was now thirsty and exhausted. He felt himself shivering and realised the effects of the adrenalin from the kidnapping encounter were wearing off, leaving him tired and shaky.

It only got worse from there. He had no idea what his captors wanted, so any speculation just served to increase his nervousness. The blindfold was now half-skewed over his eyes and felt irritating. He was dehydrated and hungry. Even though he continually worked on the bonds, all he achieved was to make his wrists feel sore. If the ropes had been coarser, it would have rubbed the skin around them raw, which, he realised, must be the point. His kidnappers didn’t want to leave any evidence of his capture, like rope marks on his skin.

He couldn’t decide if this was an encouraging sign or not.

By the time he heard the door at the stop of the cellar stairs open he had worked himself up into a state of nervous exhaustion, and the relief of having something, anything, happen, made him feel almost giddy, although it was leavened with a solid dose of fearful anticipation.

Two sets of heavy footsteps tramped down the stairs, and took up station behind him. His scalp prickled in awareness. No-one said anything immediately, and then one of people standing behind him ripped the blindfold off.

There was a lantern in the room which blinded him, so he squeezed his eyes shut against the light. When his eyes finally adjusted, he saw in front of him a table which held his cloak of invisibility, the wad of notes he had taken in the library, and the spell book.

Standing beside the table was a man.

Josh had never seen him before. He was dressed in rich fabrics, but dyed in subdued colours, and the cut looked more practical than gaudy. A sword hung at his waist. He was big, over six feet, and broad of shoulder, with a square, handsome face, bright green eyes, and air of arrogance.

He also had magic thrumming in his boots, and a fainter signature from his sword, which meant both were enchanted, but only the boots were currently active. The man didn’t say anything but nodded to one of the people behind him. Josh heard movement, and then someone grabbed hold of his fingers and bent them. The pain was excruciating. He heard himself screaming, and he twitched and rocked the chair, but the second person behind him held it steady.

Josh was as helpless as a fly trapped in a spider’s web.

When the man let go, he gasped in relief and tried to twitch his fingers. Nothing was broken, but they still felt painful.

“You are completely in my power,” the man with the green eyes said. He had one of those deep, authoritative voices, and spoke in slightly bored way, as if all this was routine, and he didn’t consider Josh terribly interesting. “I can have you whipped, tortured, broken, and killed. No-one knows you are here, and no-one will find out. I can keep you here indefinitely if I want to.”

Josh didn’t say anything. He had nothing to say, even if he could have brought himself to speak. When he’d envisioned his first interaction with his captors, he’d fantasised about being defiant and cocky, like a hero in a movie. He’d never really got the chance when he’d been kidnapped by Varian’s gang, but this time he told himself he’d do better. Only a few minutes ago, he’d been trying to keep his spirits up by imagining himself demanding water, or off-handedly complaining about the standard of the accommodation.

This didn’t seem like the right moment for that.

“Give me your name,” the man said.

Josh’s mind lurched back into operation again. They didn’t know his name? Did they even know he was an outworlder? When he didn’t immediately respond, the man nodded to one of the people standing behind him, presumably ordering him to inflict more pain.

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“De Haven,” Josh croaked out desperately. “I’m De Haven.”

It wasn’t really his name, so it didn’t feel like he was giving anything away.

The man smiled.

“There, that wasn’t difficult, was it? Now tell me, what were you doing in the library?”

Josh hesitated, but only for a second. They had taken his notes on magic, which meant they already knew that. These were just setting up questions, he realised. The man was testing the truthfulness of Josh’s answers, and getting him into the habit of answering their questions.

“I was looking at the restricted section,” he muttered. His voice was dry and cracked, and he went into a coughing fit afterwards.

His interrogator frowned in irritation and snapped his fingers. One of the people behind Josh came forward—a burly man in cheap clothes with a club strapped to his side—and held a skinful of water to his lips.

Josh drank gratefully, although he was only allowed a few mouthfuls before it was taken away. The man with the green eyes pulled a chair from the table and sat in it, leaning towards Josh.

“Any what did you want in the restricted section?” He sounded like he knew the answer, and of course he did, because the answer was obvious.

“I was trying to learn about magic,” Josh muttered. He decided to say nothing about the Dreamer. They might not know about that, if they only had his notes to go on.

The man leaned back, pleased.

“You have a little talent, then? But you chose to hide it.” He sounded disappointed, as if this was some kind of sin. “You know what the Church does to unregistered mages.”

Josh had no idea, but he found himself trying to adopt an intimidated expression anyway. This was not particularly hard.

“Now,” the man said. “Tell me about your association with Lady Paleyne.”

Josh stared at him with astonishment. This was to do with Lady Paleyne? Did that mean it was her fault that he had been kidnapped? That wretched woman was nothing but trouble.

The man seemed amused by his reaction.

“You surely didn’t think it hadn’t been noticed? Lady Paleyne’s appetites are well known. Have you bedded her yet?”

Josh felt his ears getting hot despite himself, and the man chuckled.

“Evidently not. Well, no matter.”

They were interrupted by a woman arriving, wearing a shabby grey dress and an apron, and a huge scowl. She carried all of Josh’s belongings from the boarding house. His pack, full of his things. His bag of enchanted feathers. Even the shoes of water-walking, and the moth haunt bottle, bundled up in a shirt. Were the book moths still alive?

The interrogator nodded at the woman and she put everything on the table next to him, then left the cellar.

The man with the green eyes cracked his knuckles, as if getting down to business, and the real interrogation began. He asked questions, and Josh answered them.

Josh describe his interactions with Lady Paleyne. He recounted how he had got rid of the moth haunt in Mistress Hallon’s chambers. He confessed how he had used the cloak of invisibility to hide in the library and look through the restricted selection.

After a short time, it became apparent to Josh that his interrogator had no real interest in finding out Josh’s real motives or background. This wasn’t an interrogation to find out the truth about him, or at least not any kind of objective truth. The man with the green eyes thought he already knew everything about Josh and about Lady Paleyne, and was only interested in making Josh admit it.

“A useful little trick,” the man said of the moth haunt swarm, as he flicked the bottle with his finger. “I am sure you planned to make a lot of money with this.”

That was precisely what Josh had been worried people would think. He knew it was no use explaining he had felt sorry for the book moths. The only motives the man in the green eyes wanted to hear about, or seemed to believe existed, were greed, ambition and lust.

The moths had gone quiescent, and were merely black sludge against the glass. There were tiny speckles of moth haunt eggs all over the booklet, which would hatch out in a couple of days. Josh didn’t want the moth haunts to become a weapon, but he couldn’t help wishing he could release them to smother everyone in this room.

The swarm was too small. It probably wouldn’t work.

As far as Josh could work out, this was the story his interrogator had decided must be true: Josh was a small-time con man, a trickster who wandered around with a bottle of moth haunts, telling an invented story about them, and then releasing them into an unsuspecting victim’s room, so that he could play the hero and recapture them. He had presented himself to the Abbot as a scholar purely in order to be introduced to Lady Paleyne and Lady Alianne, so that he could latch onto them and secure their patronage, or work his con, or both. Lady Paleyne had a reputation for dalliance with younger men, behaviour which the green-eyed man described in far from flattering terms, and he went on to hint slyly at what he imagined must be Josh’s own plan of seduction.

He picked up the miniature spell book and leafed through the pages.

“Bad poetry won’t get you under her skirts,” he said, with contempt. “Some flashy clothes, a few compliments, and she’ll be yours. It won't take much, trust me.”

Josh was getting the impression that the man thoroughly despised Lady Paleyne. Was he a rejected suitor?

“But delightful as I’m sure it would be to plough her,” the man said, “I know what you’re really after.” And he smiled smugly.

So far Josh had let the man think what he wanted to think, but with this he had no idea what his supposed motivation was for seducing Lady Paleyne, or what he was supposed to confess to.

“Oh, don’t play the innocent with me,” the man went on. “You must have thought she could teach you. But she’s a poor mage, little more than a court sorceress, capable of nothing more than casting a handful of minor illusions to please the King.”

Lady Paleyne was a mage? That explained a lot, such as why she had been so interested in Josh. She had probably noticed the enchanted feather in his Robin Hood hat. He had cast the Glow skill on it, although he had been careful not to leave it glowing when he was in public. Would she have passed by his room closely enough to sense the cloak of invisibility and the shoes of water walking?

It also explained why the servant, Jann, had summoned her to deal with the book moth swarm. Would she have been able to banish it? Had she not needed Josh at all?

The man with green eyes grinned at the expression on Josh’s face, which he clearly though was a result of his own revelation.

“Now,” the man said, “How would it be if I introduced you to a proper mage? One with real power, who can cast more than a few, fancy illusions.”

Wait, he wanted to recruit Josh? Josh couldn’t imagine anyone he wanted to work for less. Even leaving aside the matter of the abduction, he could already tell the man with the green eyes was one of those insufferable idiots who routinely ascribed the worst motives to other people’s behaviour, and who was constitutionally incapable of seeing anything from anyone else’s point of view.

Josh had known someone like that in one of the online games he’d played, and had sworn never to have anything to do with that kind of personality again.

Meanwhile, the man was describing all the riches and power that would belong to Josh if he was able to learn real magic, instead of few meagre cantrips. As a demonstration, the man held up his sword.

“You see this?” He concentrated. Josh felt him push a trickle of magic into it, and the enchantment on the sword suddenly bloomed to life. It was like the sword itself, simple and sharp, but with loops that seemed to increase its power with every iteration. It felt deep to Josh’s perception, as if there was more to it folded out of his sight. Despite himself he leaned forwards.

The man grinned at Josh’s fascinated expression. Josh suddenly noticed that there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Had that tiny trickle of magic really cost him so much effort? Josh was careful to keep that thought from showing on his face. He didn’t want the man getting offended while he was still tied to a chair with two brutes standing behind him.

“Now,” the man said, sheathing his sword and leaning forward again. “What do you say?”

Josh couldn’t help but be tempted at the idea of being taught by a real mage. He didn’t have any desire to be a blacksmith, but anyone who could craft that sword would be able to teach him something useful.

However, he knew the offer was a trap. If they had wanted to recruit him honestly, they could have just approached him. Instead, they had abducted him and threatened him. They thought he was a conman who went around targeting women and taking advantage of them like some kind of social parasite, and would treat him appropriately.

“What would I have to do?” Josh asked cautiously. His hope was to agree with everything right up to the point where he could get free of them and then leave town. He was pretty much done with Brackstone anyway. There were other cities further north.

“One small thing,” the man said. “It's not much, considering the rewards you would gain.”

Josh waited with considerable scepticism.

“You would go to the castle,” the man continued. “You would ask to see Lady Paleyne.” He waved a hand. “You may seduce her if you wish, consider that a side bonus. I don’t care what you do with her either way. Lady Paleyne has an amulet. She wears it often, but reportedly hangs it by her bedside when she is not wearing it. Inside this amulet is a pearl. You will take the pearl, and infuse it.”

Presumably infuse meant charge it with magic. Josh had a bad feeling about this, and the man wasn’t even done.

“As handmaiden to Lady Alianne,” he went on, “Lady Paleyne prepares a nightly drink of milk and herbs to help her sleep well. You will take the pearl and put it in the drink for Lady Alianne. She must drink it. That, my boy, is your task.”

What the hell would the pearl do?

“I don’t want to poison anyone!” Josh said.

“You won’t be poisoning her,” the man said impatiently. “The pearl is just one that makes its recipient lethargic. Everyone will merely think the Lady Alianne mildly ill, that is all. She will take to her bed. After a week or so it will wear off.”

“Why do you want to make Lady Alianne ill?” Josh asked. And why would Lady Paleyne walk around with an amulet of that nature around her neck?

The man stood up from his chair suddenly, and took a step towards Josh, looming over him. His face was suddenly unfriendly.

“I ask the questions here,” he said, his voice vibrating with threat. “And I give the orders. Your duty is to listen and obey. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Josh said.

“Yes, sir,” the man insisted.

“Yes, sir,” he repeated. Meanwhile, his brain was whirling. What was the likelihood of the pearl being poison? Quite high, he thought.

The man must have seen the reluctance lingering in his face, because he put a heavy hand on Josh’s shoulder.

“You’re imagining how you can get out of this, aren’t you?” he said, his voice low and confiding. “Oh, believe me, I know how a little worm like you thinks. You’re thinking you can promise me anything I ask, and then walk out of here and do as you please, aren’t you?”

Josh said nothing.

The man squeezed his shoulder, painfully.

“That is why we need a surety.” He raised his voice to shout up the stairs. “Come!”

The cellar door opened shortly after that, and the same woman who had brought Josh’s things from the boarding house now entered. She was no longer wearing a shabby dress and apron. Now she was gowned in dark red velvet, with a black cloak hanging from her shoulders. Josh didn’t spend much time looking at her, however. He was staring at the item she carried.

It was the glass dome with the key fragment from the vault underneath the library. It had a handle set into the top, and had a mesh of gold wire around it to support it.

Why was the key fragment doing here?