Angora ripped off her shawl as she stormed down the corridor. Gathering the front of her dark dress in her hands, she flew up the stairs two at a time. She did not realize she was crying until she tasted a tear on her lip. She brushed it away angrily and slowed only when she reached the roof of the castle. From there, she could see the whole of Te’Roek, the docklands and the river, and the surrounding farmlands stretching in all directions beyond the city walls. The little black specks far below were all she could see of the city folk enjoying their everyday lives, blissfully unaware of the troubles ahead. They were not burdened by politics or foreign affairs; instead, they concerned themselves only with trivial matters such as the price of fruit or the state of the pavement. In that moment, she was bitterly jealous.
“Hey, wait! You dropped this!”
Angora reluctantly turned. Tiderius was approaching, the shawl grasped in his hand. She glared at him and snatched it back.
“What’s got into you?” he demanded.
“You still do not understand?”
“The queen still needs your protection. You can’t just abandon her.”
“She only wants me as a piece of some puzzle!”
Angora turned away and strode across the roof toward the West Tower. The castle had four identical spires and Angora had chosen the small room at the base of the western one as her chambers. At the door, Tiderius moved in front of her.
“I understand why you’re angry.”
“Great,” Angora said shortly. “Get out of my way.”
“Not until you calm down and come back downstairs.”
Angora groaned. “What is the point? They will ignore what I say, just as they have done countless times before. I have seen things they could not imagine, yet my opinions mean nothing to them!”
“They don’t have to agree with you to value what you have to say.”
“Leave me alone, Tiderius.”
“They’ll forgive you, I know they will.”
“For the last time, go away! Or, by the Spirits, you will regret it!”
“Just listen to yourself! How can you – ”
With a savage cry, Angora pushed her hand into his chest and watched as he was thrown backward, raw energy still flickering on his surcoat. He was quick to find his feet again but Angora managed to slip inside her room and slam the door shut. She slid the bolt and pressed her back against the thick wooden door as he banged loudly on the other side.
“You’re only making this worse for yourself!”
When she was certain he had gone, she moved away from the door and ran her hands through her long, dark hair. She paced the room anxiously, her mind reeling. She could not stay there any longer, not after what she had just done to Emil and Tiderius.
The punishment for assault across the Ronnesian Empire was several weeks in a cell, depending on the seriousness of the injuries inflicted and the reason for the attack. The penalty for assaulting a noble, no matter how low, was twenty lashes and a sentence of at least twelve months in the dungeons. The punishment for attacking a member of the royal court was several years’ imprisonment or, in some cases, death. Emil and Tiderius were highly positioned members of court and she had lashed out at both. There was no doubt she would be punished for her actions and Emil was probably already on his way to the guards with a warrant for her arrest. Tiderius might forgive her but the shaman never would.
Realizing she had to make a move and fast, Angora threw open her wardrobe and snatched up a warm jacket. When she turned, she spied her staff and hesitantly approached it. It had been sitting on her table for months, gathering dust. Apart from her training, she had hardly used the weapon at all.
She tied her jacket securely at her waist and clasped the grip of the Staff of Lonys. Passing a bowl of apples, she slipped one into each pocket. At the door, she took one last look at the room she had called her own for three long years. Apart from a wardrobe full of clothes, she had no real possessions. She would travel very light.
It was nearing nightfall and the last of the red sunset was fading from the sky. Angora moved out onto the deserted castle roof and shivered as a cold wind bit at her skin. She turned to the west and looked a little dismally at the oncoming darkness and distant rain clouds.
Calming her mind and gripping the staff tight in her hand, she knew there was only one way to leave without being stopped. She would have to travel by some other means – the one way that Emil, Markus and Kayte could not.
*
It was growing dark when the remaining Circle members and the queen left the meeting. Emil Latrett turned away from the others and headed to his quarters to pass the time alone before supper.
After taking off his outer cloak, he strode over to the window and flung it open. A slight breeze hit his face and ruffled the strands of his dark hair that had escaped his many braids. After a few deep breaths, he sat himself down on the rug, legs crossed, and closed his eyes. The matter of punishment would have to be thought over very carefully. Emil could not deny that Angora’s motive for attacking both himself and Tiderius had been a reasonable one, but the fact that she had done it without remorse made him wonder whether punishment would have any benefits.
Clearing his mind, he plunged into the dark mist of his power. He felt his conscious spirit detach from his body and then all worldly feeling slipped away. His eyes were closed, yet he could see the ghostly soul plane around him, wavering in and out of clarity. Despite now living in the largest city in the Ronnesian Empire, he was still not accustomed to city living. He had been a wanderer before traveling to Te’Roek ten years earlier. Originally from the highlands of Zennor, his family had lived in seclusion until his gift had been realized. By the time he had turned twenty-four, his skills had triggered a great many rumors around the countryside, drawing the attention of one of Markus Taal’s scouts. Within a week, he had taken up residence in the castle and had called it his home ever since. However, he still felt strange being in such a richly furnished environment, surrounded by so many fine and talkative people. Though he could perform incredible feats with the gift the Spirits had given him, he had never been able to master the art of trivial conversation. Feeling the borderline between his mind and the others on the soul plane was comforting and, sometimes, sensing others’ thoughts and emotions was the only link he shared with people.
He passed through the shimmering ghost-like figures of the castle’s servants as he glided along the dull corridors, his essence nothing more than a breath of air. He saw the minds of Queen Sorcha and her ladies-in-waiting sitting together in quiet conversation. In the quarters immediately next door, Markus was pacing – something he did often. On the floor above, Tiderius was carefully wiping down his decorative sword, Anathris, and muttering to himself about Angora. A few rooms along, Aiyla was sitting in her favorite armchair before the fire, reading and twirling a lock of her hair, though she seemed distracted.
Emil became aware of a quiet humming in the gloom and a flickering light in the distance that was gradually growing brighter. He traveled silently toward this light, sliding through walls and floors. He saw the bright spirit upon the parapets and felt dread creep over him – Angora was performing a complex summoning. Her arms were twirling the Staff of Lonys in front of her and her body was circling and twisting in a dance of its own. Her mind was buzzing with thoughts of Ayon activity and her duty to protect the weak. Then she thought of her homeland and of the invasion, and she grew angry.
The girl’s figure crouched. A bright light flashed, sending Emil back to the real world with a violent push. He opened his eyes and staggered to his feet. He found his cloak lying on his bed and threw it about his shoulders as he dashed for the door. He cried out for Kayte as he went, not knowing whether she heard him or not, and took the stairs to the roof.
When he reached the parapets, small sparks of light lingered in the air but Angora was nowhere to be seen. He called out her name but there was no reply. He could smell magic – strong, recent magic. It had been a powerful summoning. Emil beat his fist against the wall of the West Tower. He was too late.
“What’s happened?” Kayte asked, hurrying across the rooftop.
“Angora…she’s gone,” Emil replied, not turning. He sighed angrily and enclosed one of the lingering sparks in his hand, turning it to smoke. “I could have stopped her – I should have stopped her from leaving the meeting!” He turned around wildly and looked into Kayte’s tired eyes. “I knew she’d do something like this one day! Why did I let her go?”
“What sort of magic did she use?”
“I’m not certain, but since she was up here, it must have been a winged creature she summoned.”
He fell silent and his mind drifted onto the soul plane once more. He pushed his spirit far out from the castle, hoping to find Angora among the city streets, but he could not find her. He looked to the skies but there was nothing. He quickly withdrew.
“She has disappeared on the soul plane,” he declared, returning. “She must be miles away already.”
“I’m sure she’s just sulking,” Kayte said dismissively. “Don’t worry, Emil, we’ll ask Aiyla where she’s gone.’