Free Blood of Innocents (Book Two of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) by Mitchell Hogan

soldiers were Breyton, Boyas, and Ettmo. To Caldan’s eyes, they all looked young and green. Only Ettmo seemed interested in Caldan and his companions; the others looked like this trip was a rare treat for them, away from their regular monotony. According to Jarmund, the city, Riversedge, was a week away by wagon.
    Caldan and Elpidia helped Miranda inside. Amerdan prodded Bells, who’d come to, until she scrabbled awkwardly up, hampered by her chains.
    The wagon lurched forward, and Caldan grabbed a hold of his rough wooden seat to steady himself. He fussed over Miranda, making sure she was comfortable, worried that she had deteriorated.
    The others spread out inside the wagon after securing Bells to an iron ring bolted to a sturdy support. Elpidia sat with Miranda, while Amerdan perched at the back, peeking through a narrow gap in the canvas flaps toward the crossroads receding into the distance.
    Caldan fished around in his gear, making sure the sword was safely hidden behind their pile, and drew out the crafted bells. He held them for a few moments, pondering whether he had any choice in this since Miranda had been hurt. Underneath the bells, he could feel his ring on his finger. He was still uncomfortable with wearing the trinket , but now he had Bells’ shield crafting , he was determined to wear it as much as possible in the hope he found some clue as to its function. Shaking his head, he shuffled over to Bells; the lurching wagon made for unsteady footing.
    She regarded him with cold eyes as he approached. A swollen red mark stained her forehead, the result of it hitting the floor after Amerdan had knocked her out. As she shifted her weight, her chains clinked, and she grimaced then stared at the canvas ceiling, ignoring Caldan.
    He knelt in front of her for a time, the bells warming in his hands. Then, one by one, he laid them in front of her on the rough wooden floorboards. The tinkling sound they made drew both Bells’ and Elpidia’s gaze.
    To heal Miranda, he needed to know more about coercive sorcery, which he had never seen any of the Protectors use. Was it something, as a Protector, he was forbidden to do? Was he really a Protector, without having taken any oaths or being elevated to journeyman status? Would learning about coercive sorcery condemn him in the Protectors’ eyes? There was just so much he didn’t know.
    All he knew was that in front of him was a sorcerer who had answers, and a number of her crafting s might be devices for coercive sorcery. And he had at most two days to draw the information out of her before she would be handed over and he might never see her again.
    “Tell me,” he whispered to Bells. “Tell me everything you know about coercive sorcery.”
    She peered at him intently. “Poor apprentice Protector. There’s so much you don’t know.”
    “Teach me.”
    Bells shook her head. “Why would I? I’m going to kill you when I get the chance.”
    Caldan clenched his hands into fists until his fingers hurt. He knelt there, trembling. Raising a hand, he slapped Bells across the face, rocking her head to the side.
    “Caldan!” Elpidia cried. “What are you doing? Get away from her!”
    “She needs to learn I’m serious,” Caldan said, keeping his eyes on Bells.
    She stared back at him, a red handprint on her cheek.
    Elpidia grabbed his arm and tugged it from Bells. Caldan resisted for a moment, then let her draw him away.
    Bells licked blood from the corner of her mouth and began to laugh.
    Caldan turned from her and sat next to Elpidia. The physiker was looking at him disapprovingly. He covered his face with his hands.
    •
    From his perch on the roof of one of the inns, Mahsonn surveyed the buildings and the market. His position was a good one, and he had been watching for some time.
    The empire’s soldiers—Quivers they called them—were scurrying around, moving in and out of their garrison like ants disturbed from their nest. Despite the sun streaming down and