Allin began to rattle the shutters. 'Help! Help!' she yelled in desperation but the only answer was laughter from outside the door.

'Shut up, you silly girl!'

'Then do something yourself!' Allin turned and the branch of candles on the table flared head-high, as her anger reached the flames.

They both stared open-mouthed as the magical fire consumed the candles, leaving a puddle of wax ruining the finish of Lord Armile's table.

'Do calm down, my dear,' Casuel said shakily, suddenly grateful the hearth was unlit.

Allin's knees buckled and she dropped on to the window seat, her face ashen.

Casuel made as if to speak but snapped his mouth shut. Too late, Allin had noticed.

'What is it? Have you thought of something?'

'No, I mean, not really. It doesn't matter.' Casuel cringed at the thought of following up the notion that had just come to him. The humiliation did not bear thinking about.

'You have, you've got an idea.' Allin rose to her feet. 'What is it?'

Casuel hesitated; humiliation had to be preferable to disgrace, didn't it? 'Well, if you can conjure me a flame, and we can find something shiny, I could scry for help.'

Allin turned to the table and shoved crocks and plates aside wildly. She grabbed for a platter a breath too late and it crashed to the floor. She froze and they both held their breath but no one opened the door.

'Here.' Allin rubbed the sauce from a silver dish-cover. 'How about this?'

'Bring it here and find a candle.' Casuel drew a deep breath. 'Hold it up, that's right. Now, concentrate on the wick, very gently now. Focus your mind and bring a little fire.'

They stared at the candle, which remained obstinately unlit.

'Concentrate!' Casuel urged in frustration.

'I am!' Allin pursed her lips and bent closer. A sudden gout of flame leaped up and Casuel coughed on the stink of burned hair as one of her ringlets vanished into smoke.

'Hold it, hold it, that's right. Bring it down, calm down, you're doing very well,' Casuel gabbled hastily.

Allin managed a tremulous smile and the candle flame took on more normal proportions.

Casuel gripped his shaking hands together and focused his talents on the reflection. A surge of power startled him until he remembered the mass of iron around his wrists. Who should he try to contact? He searched his memory desperately for any wizards in the area. A sinking feeling came over him. With the range he could manage now, Usara was the obvious person to contact, wasn't he? Well, at least he might have some chance of keeping this sorry business quiet if he made a clean breast of it to a Council member straight away.

The dish-cover filled with a brilliant amber light and an image snapped into view. Casuel took a deep, reluctant breath.

'Usara!'

The sandy-haired mage looked up from his crucibles and gazed around curiously. ''Casuel?

Allin stared. 'Can't he see us?'

Casuel ignored her. 'Usara, please, I need your help.'

The wizard rolled up his tattered sleeves and gestured, the radiance of the spell darkened and the air crackled with power. Now he was looking straight at them.

''Where are you?''

'Being held by Lord Armile of Friern, who wants me to use magic in his service,' Casuel said baldly.

''How did this happen?'

'I'll explain later.' Casuel cringed; only if he couldn't find a way to avoid it. 'Please, if it were just me, I'd face him out, but I have a girl with me, a mage-born I was bringing to Hadrumal. I think she's in some peril.'

Usara spared Allin a glance. ' This Lord Armile has actually imprisoned you?'

'Well, sort of,' Casuel began.

'I think we'd better make him think twice about this sort of trick,' Usara said grimly. His face peered out from the image. ''Get ready to run?

'What—'

Casuel's question was lost in a shattering crash as the window wall exploded outwards in a cascade of masonry and glass.

'Come on!' Casuel's order was unnecessary; hampered by his fetters, he scrambled over the rubble after Allin, who had gathered her skirts above her knees and was running like a hare started by hounds. She halted, hesitating, rubbing her eyes as the darkness confused her. Shouts rang out from the house and from buildings ahead, doors slamming and dogs barking.

'This way.' Casuel flung a bolt of desperate amber energy against a garden gate. They ran for the jagged hole and plunged into a tangle of shrubs.

'Wait, let me get these off,' Casuel cursed but the manacles slid open after a few moments. He gripped Allin's shoulder as she stood, shaking, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

'Pull yourself together.' He wove a faint blue aura. 'I can get us out of here unseen if you keep quiet.'

She nodded in mute terror.

'We'll return to Market Harrall, get our things and take the first coach out.' Casuel forced more confidence than he felt into his tone. 'Once we're out of the district, we can head back to Hadrumal.'

Where he was going to have some explaining to do, he thought dismally, as they picked their way through the soaking vegetation. This was all Shivvalan's fault.

Inglis, 6th of Aft-Autumn

The rest of our journey was uneventful and both moons were waxing to a double full when we finally crested a line of hills to look down the sinuous length of the river Dalas as it met the ocean. Sprawled around the mouth was the city of Inglis, the only civilisation for leagues in any direction. I drew in a deep breath of satisfaction and said farewell to the endless grasslands.

'This looks like my kind of town, Geris. Things are going to happen here, I can feel it in the bones.'

He smiled back at me. We took the high road along the river down into the city. It was hard not to gape like a Caladhrian fresh off the farm at the huge rafts of logs being poled down the stream and the wide hulks of the riverboats coming down from the forests and mountains of Gidesta. We could hear the sounds of singing, drinking and in one case fighting coming across the water; my fingers still itched with regret at not having a chance at one of the famous games on board. I suppose Darni had a point when he said the boats were trouble, but it was not as if our journey through the plains had been all wildflowers, was it? Yells from a boat tying up made the horses shy as a man was thrown bodily over the rail. We left him cursing as he tried to climb the crumbling logs of the wharf. There were shipyards along each bank above the scour of the tide race, echoes of sawing and hammering rang back from the hills which ran down towards the ocean. I could smell fresh-cut wood and pitch and, hovering above it all, a wild salt freshness. I listened hard and could just make out the low murmur of waves below the din of the city.

Of course I had seen the sea before; I've been to Relshaz a couple of times as well as spending time on the Spice Coast between Peorle and Grennet, but the sheltered waters of the Caladhrian Gulf are a far cry from the open ocean. I was standing in my stirrups as we wove our way towards the eastward docks where the tall masts of the Dalasorian clippers swayed against the early morning sun. The road took us along the docks and we paused while Darni and Shiv discussed what to do next. I did not bother listening; I was staring at the surf breaking against the rocks of the headland, the massive bulk of the sea defences, the sun glinting on the calmer waters of the estuary and the sleek lines of the ocean-going ships. They looked like racing hounds set against spit dogs when I thought of the lumbering galleys that trade between the Sea of Lescar and Aldabreshi. No wonder the Tormalins forbid the Dalasorians passage round the Cape of Winds; let loose in the southern waters, these could hunt down anything they chose.