Free The Tainted City by Courtney Schafer Page B

I might do something to prevent it.”
    Well, that I could understand. The gods knew I hated to sit around on my hands praying somebody else could stave off disaster. “Fair enough. But before you commit to going, make Marten explain the rest of how he means to counter Ruslan. If you’re not completely convinced he can do it, for Khalmet’s sake, don’t agree to this.”
    Kiran jerked his head in a nod and strode for the house. I followed, more slowly. Gods, if this worked…and yet, I couldn’t shake the sick feeling I might’ve just agreed to trade Kiran’s freedom for Melly’s.
    In the study, Martennan uncoiled from a high-backed chair before the fireplace. “Have you made a decision, Kiran?”
    “If you will take us both to Ninavel, I will agree to go—on one other condition.” Behind his back, Kiran’s hands clenched around each other so tightly I thought his fingers might break. “I want the binding on my magic removed.”
    Martennan went still. “That will be a far harder case to make to the Council.”
    “I refuse to go within Ruslan’s reach without the ability to defend myself.” Kiran’s voice was thin. “Even if you can block the mark-bond, you know that won’t stop him from casting against me.”
    “Unless we stop him otherwise,” Martennan said. “Our ambassador in Ninavel has been working to convince Lord Sechaveh to sanction our investigation. If Sechaveh issues an edict of protection for us—”
    Surprise made me blurt, “You want to go openly to the city? Are you crazy? Might as well march up and pound on Ruslan’s door. I thought you meant to sneak in!”
    Martennan said, “Concealing our presence from Lord Sechaveh would be an impossible task. He keeps a far closer eye on events in Ninavel than most people realize, and his hands-off policy on magic doesn’t extend to representatives of foreign powers. But with official sanction, we’ll gain not only access to information and the freedom to cast as we please, but far better protection from Ruslan than any wards could provide.”
    “Sechaveh’s a mage, then?” I couldn’t help but be curious. Nobody knew the truth, streetside. Sechaveh had to be some two hundred years old, but I’d always leaned toward believing those who claimed he was so rich he could pay mages to keep him alive. Pello had talked about him like he was untalented, but then again, Pello was a professional liar. If Sechaveh was a mage as powerful as Ruslan, no wonder he’d managed to kick out Simon.
    “He’s not a mage,” Kiran said flatly. “No edict of his will stop Ruslan.”
    I turned to look at him, surprised all over again. Martennan’s head tilted, and he said, “Have you met Lord Sechaveh before, Kiran?”
    “Not directly, but I’ve seen him. He came to visit Ruslan, sometimes.” Kiran’s eyes took on the stricken darkness they always got when he spoke of life before he ran. “Trust me, he’s untalented.”
    “Oh, I know it,” Martennan said. “I haven’t met Sechaveh myself, but the older mages here in Alathia remember him well. Before he founded Ninavel, he spent seventeen years as the Arkennlander ambassador to Alathia.”
    “Well, that explains a lot,” I muttered. Sechaveh must’ve gotten really sick of all the Council’s rules.
    Marten went on. “But while Sechaveh is no mage, his sister was, and a powerful one. Perhaps even a blood mage—we’re not certain. But unlike most Arkennlander mages, she didn’t sever ties to her birth family. When Sechaveh decided to build a city over the largest confluence of magic yet discovered, he asked her to cast a spell that bound him to that confluence. We haven’t yet discovered all the details of that binding, but we know two things: it makes him effectively immortal so long as he remains within the Painted Valley’s confines, and it allows him to deny mages the use of the confluence to fuel their spells, should they anger him. It’s one of the ways he maintains his rule.”
    I