Wolves of Empire [EPIC DARK FANTASY] [Book One Complete]

Twenty-Two

Tali

Kaltoren, Drasken

3rd of Otanus

She wasn't summoned back to the Jalin's quarters until more than a week after her first meeting with him. In that time, she'd garnered an unfortunate reputation as an unskilled mage. She'd heard other students refer to her as 'the Blunt' in her hearing, and when she'd questioned Renna about it, the girl had reluctantly told her it was an insult fired at mages with minimal skill. "You're a blunt object rather than the graceful weapon mages are supposed to be," Renna had said. At Tali's hurt expression, she'd scoffed and added; "You should hear what they say about me. Bastard, traitor, coward's daughter, mercenary's by-blow. Etcetera, etcetera, et-fucking-cetera."

Though an effective way of keeping her true skills hidden, it rankled to already be looked down upon. As she stalked up to the College's highest levels, the looks thrown her way were almost pitying, and students no doubt thought she'd been summoned by Fell to be reprimanded for her lack of progress. It shouldn't have mattered what a cluster of strangers thought of her, but sometimes she was tempted to do as Erun suggested and unleash her magic to its fullest extent. No one would whisper insults then, nor make childish mockery of her half-Dontili heritage.

As she paced around the fountain marking the centre of the Jalin's courtyard, her eyes again snagged on the statue of Drasken's first Jalin, Vala. A couple of her lessons had touched upon the history of the College and its many overseers, but she'd found nothing to explain the strange kinship she felt when looking upon Vala's stone features. Less than nothing, because she'd learned in one such lesson that Vala had died only a decade or so after Drasken had been founded, separating her from Tali by more than four millennia.

She smacked her hands against the vast double doors, then leapt back in shock when they swung inwards on their own. For a brief moment, she hovered at the threshold, but was drawn in by Fell's amused chuckle.

"Please ignore him, child," came a woman's smooth cadence. "He thinks he is hilarious."

"You get to our age, my Keizerin, and you learn to amuse yourself where you can," was Fell's playful reply.

With a flick of his wrist, the doors were borne shut on source-less currents of air, blotting out the sunlight streaming behind her. She took quick note of the room's furniture, replaced since her outburst. The Jalin stood a few paces away, and behind him, watching Tali with indifferent regard, waited the Keizerin.

Despite being in the room with her when Katja was questioned, Tali hadn't yet been formally introduced to Malena Drakaaren, nor had she even spoken to her. She felt the woman's full regard now and wavered, her knees threatening to buckle. Should she bow? Lower herself to hands and knees? Thump her fist to her chest as the Imperium's soldiers did in salute?

She was halfway into an awkward bow when the Keizerin drifted forwards and gestured her upright. "None of that, please. I won't stand on ceremony within these walls."

"That's unfair," Fell said with mock hurt. "I'm required to bow to you whenever I see you, no matter where we are."

The Keizerin's immovable features warmed with amusement for the quickest heartbeat. "That is because you are the Jalin first, my immature husband second. Also, I enjoy watching you bow and scrape."

"You always have," Fell replied with another chuckle.

The Keizerin rolled her eyes, then settled her expression back to stony severity. "I did not get the chance to introduce myself to you when we first met, child. In the privacy of these quarters, you may call me Malena."

"Or Mal," Fell interjected, and sidled up beside his wife. "She likes Mal."

"I despise pet names, as you well know, Fellan." Though rebuke undercut the woman's tone, Tali caught a whisper of humour. Tali had heard the Keizerin and Jalin were distant and uncaring towards each other in public, because the joint power of their positions meant any display of affection was a reminder of the political threat they posed to the rest of the Varkommer. As a result, they could only be husband and wife when removed from the ever-present obligations of their public lives. Such an existence must've been stifling, and Tali was more certain than ever that she didn't want this for her future.

"My husband has already informed me about your unique parentage," Malena said. She stepped back, inviting Tali deeper into the centre of the Jalin's grand chamber. "You need not worry in our company. The two of us will endeavour to hone your skills, nothing more."

Tali shifted her eyes to where Fell stood and tried to smother a flicker of anger. He'd made it clear to her that secrecy regarding her Valhir nature was paramount, and yet he'd already shared it with another.

"It is not as surprising as you might imagine, child," Malena reassured. "Down in your Imperium, everyone leads mortal lives and are separated from the Novhar by untold generations. By contrast, my own grandparents were alive when the Novhar still reigned."

Tali had no chance of comprehending such a span of time, but found herself wondering how old Malena was, if her grandparents had lived twenty thousand years ago.

"What does surprise me, however, is that you were born at all." The Keizerin clasped her hands behind her back in a military fashion, the gesture seeming to defy her notably short stature. "Fellan told me another Novhar pursued you after you awoke to your aasiurmancy. This is clearly not a coincidence, and I suspect it has something to do with your mother."

"My mother?"

"To be believed extinct for so many thousands of years, only to re-emerge sixteen years ago in order to have a child with a mortal, is strange behaviour for one who was once so powerful."

Tali frowned at the implications. "You think my birth was deliberate?" She'd always considered herself an accident, an unintended consequence of the forbidden dalliance her father had shared with an enemy soldier. She supposed that was likely how her father thought of her, but to suggest her mother had meant to fall pregnant, had meant for Tali to live, inspired a surge of happiness within her. Her mother had wanted her. Planned for her, even.

"To what end?" Fell asked his wife.

Malena pursed her lips. "Valhir were famously rare, and even more famously powerful. They were intended as elite soldiers, controlled only by the Novhar. Perhaps Katrin had this motive in mind?"

A weapon, again. It seemed this fate was inescapable.

"Might be we could use her, when fully trained, against whatever this western warlord throws at us," Fell mused.

"I think her father might have something to say about that," Malena replied. "Considering he has recently allied with the Baltanos, I suspect he might soon become more directly involved with Drasken as a whole. He would learn his daughter is in our care."

Not that he'd give a shit, Tali thought.

"He wouldn't need to know," Fell countered. "I doubt he knew his lover was a Novhar. As far as the Iron Wolf's concerned, his youngest pup's aasiurmantic skill could be pure, random chance."

They discussed her life as if she weren't present, and she had to clench her hands to tight fists to quell the cresting desire to shout. "What if I don't want to serve you?" she asked, straining to keep her voice level.

Fell and Malena both fixed her with frowns. "What else would you do?" the Jalin asked.

She shrugged, unconsciously took a step back. "I want to re-join my uncle." It was probably the wrong thing to say to the Jalin, who'd already lost one Boratorren when Heller had left Drasken behind and joined the Fensidium. She expected Fell to grow angry, but instead he tipped his head back and laughed.

"Child, you are quite possibly the only Valhir in existence. If what you've told us is true, you already have a Novhar chasing you, and you've piqued the interest of this self-titled Lord Indro. Do you really think you can live anything resembling a normal life?" His words were crueller for their truth, and Tali flinched beneath them. "I won't force you into anything you don't want to do, of course, but you must realise that you're too powerful to simply skip off to the Karhes with Heller."

"I'm not obligated to be here," she retorted.

"But I'm obligated to protect and train you," Fell countered. His features softened, and he more resembled the man she'd first met, her first day in Kaltoren. "Just as I'm obligated, as Jalin, to not overlook your potential."

Having sensed the rising tension, Malena flattened a palm against her husband's chest and pushed him back, then took his place before Tali. Her short stature and relative quietness did nothing to diminish her imposing aspect. "We are discussing your future as if it is a thing to be decided upon now," she began. "But you are new to your powers, and no one yet understands your limits. To my mind, we should see you trained, get you to a position where you can decide things for yourself. Then, we can address this matter again and have a better idea about the consequences of your choices."

The Jalin opened his mouth to object, but a raised hand from his wife proved enough to silence him. Malena's logic blunted Tali's anger, made her stop and consider. It made sense, too much sense, to allow herself to be honed to a fine edge by these immortal mages, to explore the range of her powers for herself, and learn how to apply them in a world she was fast learning was far more dangerous than she had ever imagined. But wouldn't staying at the College for the mandatory half-decade tether her further to Drasken's cause? Wouldn't it be likely she would, at the end of the five years, view herself as the Jalin's weapon, and agree blindly with whatever uses he wished to make of her?

"If it reassures you, I promise I will not let anyone coerce you into anything, either now, or at the end of your training." Malena glanced pointedly over her shoulder. "That is reasonable, is it not, my Jalin?"

Fell nodded. "Yes, my Keizerin," he said with a bow that was somehow sarcastic.

That settled, Malena returned her attention to Tali. "Now, tell me what you can do."

Tali rocked on her feet and knotted her fingers together, then told them about her previous uses of aasiurmancy. Firstly, how she'd twice worldstrode herself and Shira, using only one of her father's drawings and her own memories for guidance. Then, her battle with the Novhar in Sinnis, during which she'd slung lightning at the beast and shielded herself with aeromancy. Then the way she'd blasted a mercenary thundership from the sky with a pyromantic fireball. Finally, her most recent showdown with her Novhar pursuer, ending in her channelling his magic back into his hands and wounding him.

"She tried the same with me," Fell inputted at the last. "I blasted her with aeromancy, and she pushed it away."

The Keizerin had said nothing as Tali spoke, only watched her with an unchanging and distant regard. At least she didn't look at Tali like she was a particularly deadly weapon anymore.

"And you never once entered a Gnostic Plane?" Malena questioned.

Tali shook her head. "The power was just sitting within me. It was mostly when I panicked that I conjured. When I trained with the Jalin, I had to pull it, force it."

Fell interjected. "That'll be something to focus on: to ensure you can draw on your power naturally, without panic."

The Keizerin glanced at her husband. "I would be interested to know how the Planes react to her."

"I don't know if I can get to the Planes," Tali admitted.

It wasn't exactly a lie; the lessons she'd so far received on the Gnostic Planes had been theoretical, and no tutors had yet covered the process of reaching them. Tali assumed this was because a mage instinctively reached out to their anchored plane when they awoke, and the knowledge was therefore innate. In the interest of maintaining her cover, she hadn't thought to question her tutors.

"I can take you," Fell said. He looked to his wife for confirmation, and she nodded. "If you can clear your mind enough, I can reach out and guide you."

"How?"

The Jalin rubbed at his jaw as if already regretting his suggestion. "We'll both be in a metaphysical state, so we can interact, and I'm strong enough to draw you in my wake." At her alarmed expression, he chuckled. "Don't worry; I've done it numerous times before, with students who struggle to reach the Planes."

Tali pulled in a breath, skipped her gaze between the two most powerful people in the Drasken Empire, then conceded. "I want to try it." If it went any way towards helping them all understand her abilities, it would be worth the attempt.

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Fell dipped his head, waited a beat to see if she'd change her mind, then beckoned her up to the raised platform housing his desk. Malena followed close behind. He took his seat, his wife standing behind him. When Tali claimed the seat opposite, he reached his hands out and, hesitant, she let him lock his grip around her forearms. "A physical anchor as you enter the trance helps convince your mind you're not going to drift away," he explained. "It also tethers you to me."

She tried to swallow her mounting worry.

"I need you to close your eyes and empty your mind," he continued. "When I was training, I found it useful to imagine the sound of my heartbeat and focus on nothing but that. Slow and calm, a steady rhythm." His words matched his description, and he spoke as if he tried to hypnotise her. "It won't hurt, but it might feel strange. You'll be severed from your physical body, but I'll be right there with you. You'll see a light, and you'll need to reach for it, and separate it from yourself."

She did as he bid, smothering the world behind her closed eyelids and settling her breathing. Her pulse beat like a distant drum from where she'd pressed her fingertips against Fell's tattooed forearms, and she focused on it, suffused herself in it until nothing else existed. At the edge of her perception a light flickered, far smaller and weaker than Kaltoren's Surrekan engines, but persistent. She reached for it, the mental effort enough to strain her senses, and imagined she cleaved a sword between it and herself.

With great force, she was jettisoned from her body with the strangest sensation of dislocation; it felt as if her limbs had been torn from her body and her head lopped off without any of the accompanying pain. She panicked and threw her gaze wildly around a room now rendered incomprehensible by a blinding display of colours and lights. She made to raise her arms over her head and cower, but Fell's grip on her had manifested in the metaphysical plane, and she found herself still in his hold.

Calm yourself. You succeeded.

His voice echoed in her skull—or what passed for a skull when she no longer had a body—and it reminded her of the way Erun had communicated with her before it had shown itself to her. When she looked up at Fell, she found the barest outline, his shifting expression cast in shimmering lines. Behind him, Malena stood, movements slow and dreamy, as solid as the two of them weren't. Bright threads flowed from and into the Keizerin, seemingly connecting her to the world around her, and she glowed with her own inner sun.

Strange, huh? The abstract line of Fell's mouth twitched into a smile. You can see aasiur, the fabric of the universe.

I don't think I like it, she said without speaking.

Fell laughed, his outline jumping to describe the motion. He released her, and when he stepped back, she saw a twinkling thread, thicker than the rest, plunging from her chest to his.

The physical contact joins us metaphysically, Fell said. You'll be pulled along in my wake, for which I apologise. When you're as strong as me—or stronger—you'll be able to lead others around.

He ghosted towards his chamber's ceiling, rising without means, and when the thread between them pulled taut, she was lifted as well. It was like swimming, or plunging through a worldstrider's portal, or lying flat against her kayak and letting the waves roll her around Alzikanem's harbour. Ren Câdern shrank beneath her non-existent feet, and the extensive map of Kaltoren unfurled in its place. With a cry of pained surprise, she jarred her head aside and closed her eyes; it did little to soften the blazing inferno of energy roiling within the city.

It was Malena and her myriad aasiurmantic connections multiplied by a million. The towers themselves were shining spears, the thunderships tiny streaks painting the sky. The Surrekan engines were paramount, their ghostly after-images burned so deeply into Tali's metaphysical eyes she was sure her head, back in the College, burst into flames.

Don't look at them. They're pure aasiur. Not even I can comprehend them.

The Jalin continued skywards, and her attention was usurped by a strangling blanket draped across the atmosphere above them. Darkness choked the blue sky, and Tali yanked on the line between her and Fell, trying to slow his progress.

It's the Shroud, he explained, glancing down at her. Don't fear it. It's the boundary between the physical world and the Gnostic Planes. You can access it at any metaphysical point, but I thought it would be fun to drag you above Kaltoren. The Shroud is weaker the further into the atmosphere you float, so you can perceive it better up here.

I thought the Abyss was beyond, Tali replied.

The Abyss is beyond all else. You can't get to it just by piercing the Shroud. You can't get to it at all, as far as I know.

Though not as irresistible as Erun's aura, when the monster had been a faceless mass of malevolence during their first encounter, the Shroud writhed with a similar energy. Fell stopped against it, the most impregnable of walls, and unpicked a portal before Tali could blink.

As Fell dragged her in after him, she felt pressure where none should exist, force applied to a body no longer physical. A tugging, deep in her soul, trying to force her back across the Shroud.

Why does it feel like this? she asked.

The Novhar forged the Shroud to separate the planet Eld and the rest of the Vast Infinite from the Gnostic Planes, Fell replied. As far as anyone can tell, it's an inversion of aasiur, meant to repel aasiur from passing through.

Fell towed her along, and she emerged beyond the Shroud with the feeling of having been bodily yanked from a quagmire.

As with her own worldstriding and the descriptions of Gnostic Planes from class, she'd expected to find herself battered on all sides by ethereal energy. She'd expected a thunderstorm of clashing lights, violent manhandling of her non-physical self, the bloated sensation of power pouring into her.

Instead: uncanny silence.

She stood upon flat ground almost too real to be anything but, grass soft and spongy beneath her feet. A sunless source of light shimmered above, letting Tali see the perfect circle of undisturbed land around her. Fell hovered at her side, his abstract lines and angles almost solid.

This isn't what I was expecting, Tali remarked, disappointed.

Fell nodded his head towards the outskirts of their circle. I pushed the storm away, to give you space. Arriving in the middle of it might've overwhelmed you. He spread his arms wide. Welcome to Stromorre, Plane of Storms.

Storms? she asked.

I was a thundermancer when I first awoke to aasiurmancy. Stromorre was my anchored Plane. Even now, after so many years, it's still the easiest to reach.

Now he'd drawn her attention to it, Tali saw the storm roiling beyond their circle. With the sight of it came the sounds, the roar of thunder and snap of lightning, the rip of lethal wind. An invisible barrier held it all back, though the Jalin showed no strain at such a monumental task.

Noticing her attention, Fell explained. The more adept you become, the better you can shape the Planes to your whims. When I first came here, I was thrown into the midst of the storm and almost lost myself. As I practised, I was able to clear a space to prepare, was able to mould the storms to my wishes. Now, Stromorre appears almost physical to me.

Tali waved unreal hands through unreal space, pulled unreal air into unreal lungs, and gazed upon the unreal storm. A part of her remained the ignorant girl she'd once been and couldn't comprehend how she found herself here. Another part tried to apply what she'd learned in her classes. A third, the aspect of herself dominated by her powers, relished the presence of raw aasiur, and wanted to saturate herself in it.

Approach the edge slowly, Fell instructed, perhaps having seen that last part of her shine through. I want to see how the storm reacts to you. If anything feels wrong, move back towards me and I'll return us to my chambers.

She obliged, taking halting steps out from the centre of their protected circle. The storm's might intensified as she neared, and her power reached out in reply. Her head rang with its clamour, and she tasted impending rain on the not-air. When she was still a few paces shy, the storm breached the barrier holding it back and swirled towards her, a rippling tendril of energy she moved to embrace. It flicked against her hands and curled around her forearms in translucent, cloudy knots. Experimentally, she lashed out, and the storm's aasiur lashed out with her.

She stepped closer, and more seeped free. It clothed her like a greatcoat, snug against her skin, nuzzling against her own power like a loyal lapdog. As it continued to layer her, she felt herself the heart of the storm, the source of it all. If she wanted, she could disperse it to nothing or blow it beyond its borders and encompass everything.

To test her theory, she grappled with her power and set it against the storm still cloaking her. She imagined the storm throttled and watched as it ghosted to oblivion around her. The tendrils reaching for her twisted as if in pain, then evaporated. Beyond the barrier, the storm thrashed beneath her influence.

The Jalin released a strained cry and, when she turned to him, had fallen to his knees with his hands clutching his head. Startled from her exercise, she released her grip on the storm and stepped away, sundering its connection to her.

What happened? she asked as she scrambled to Fell's side.

He waved her away. You were destroying the part of the Plane I accessed. My soul was bound to it as soon as we crossed the Shroud.

So I was… She cut herself off, the thought horrific.

Fell nodded. Yes, you were destroying me as well. Or starting to, anyway.

She slapped her arms across her chest and held them there. I'm sorry, I didn't realise what I was doing. Are you hurt?

On shaky legs he rose, and even in this unreal place, she saw the ill pallor to his skin and the tiredness in his eyes. As if she'd sapped him of strength. I'm fine. You didn't do irreversible damage.

But I could have done?

Without a doubt.

She opened her mouth to repeat her apology but Fell raised a hand and silenced her. We didn't know what would happen. It's not your fault. In any case, I have the answers I wanted.

Tali was numb on the return journey, too focused on what she'd almost done to the Jalin. She'd accidentally killed before, but this was different. She'd been so consumed by her powers, the act of poisoning Stromorre had been almost deliberate. And she knew the Jalin, unlike any of her previous victims. He was her uncle's friend, and now her mentor. In her limited experience, that almost made him family.

How would Erun react to this, she wondered? It would be exactly the kind of destructive impulse the monster would endorse.

She slammed into her body and jolted back in her seat, coughing and spluttering like a beached Kanem shark. Opposite her, Fell had already regained his composure, and his pallor had improved. The wideness of his eyes and unsteadiness of his breathing, however, spoke of how close she'd actually come to harming him.

"What happened?" Malena demanded, her hands falling to her husband's shoulders. "You started shaking. I was not sure whether to try and pull you both free."

Fell took a few seconds to compose himself further, one hand moving to cover his wife's in an unconscious motion. "Stromorre reacted to Tali as if she were its master," he said at length. "But more than that, she manipulated aasiur without taking it into her soul."

"Manipulated it directly in the Plane?" Malena's eyes danced over to Tali, but her expression was unreadable.

The Jalin nodded. "She banished it from existence. That's why I started shaking."

Tali ducked her head and averted her eyes, shame curdling in her chest. However inadvertent her actions had been, she could've killed the Jalin. Her power was dangerous and unpredictable, and she'd turned it against one of the only people she was supposed to trust.

"That could prove incredibly useful," the Keizerin noted.

Fell choked a laugh. "Now that I've recovered, I can see that." Tali felt his attention on her but refused to meet his eyes. "A mage who can kill another mage, however powerful they are, from within their own Gnostic Plane. A mage who doesn't need a Plane in the first place."

So, she remained a weapon. It didn't seem to matter she was a sword that had cut the Jalin, because she could still be turned outwards, at the enemy.

"I can't keep training if I can hurt anyone so easily," she interjected. It was a weak argument, and not one she was committed to. In truth, she wanted to understand her power, wanted to expertly wield it against her pursuers. Her objections partly stemmed from the danger she posed to others, but if she and the Jalin and Keizerin took steps to minimise the risks, would it not be worth it?

Mostly, though, her objections were founded in her fears of what the Jalin wanted of her. Accusing words spoken by Lord Indro in Sinnis still lingered.

"What do you want me for?" she found herself asking.

Both Fell and Malena straightened, but it was the Jalin who answered. "What do you think we want you for?"

She exhaled loudly. "The Novhar who hunted me managed to corner me in Sinnis. He thought I served Rexan Sudarium, and that Sudarium was trying to re-enact what Erdohan had done. I know from what Indro said that you and Sudarium are allied."

"So, you assume I strive for the same," Fell concluded for her. He rolled his eyes, as if this was an old argument he had tired of long ago. "Firstly, I'm not allied to Sudarium in the traditional sense. Our interests overlap when it comes to mages. Every now and again, a Ren Câdern mage joins the Fensidium, or vice versa. We help each other out with this, ensuring everyone is where they want to be."

"Like my uncle."

"Yes, like Heller. But that's as far as it goes. Sudarium focuses his efforts on saving mages in the west, where magic is abhorred. I oversee the training of mages in the east, where we are loved. Neither of us have any desire to become a second Erdohan.

"My intent for you, Tali, is to do my best by you and your uncle. I want to train you and keep you safe from anyone who wishes you harm. That's it."

She raised her eyes to meet his. Gone was his usual playful friendliness, his immature smile, the light in his eyes. He was grim-faced and thin-lipped; he meant what he said.

"Why does Indro think you aspire to be like Erdohan?" Tali asked.

"To whip up anti-Drasken sentiments?" he suggested. "It's absurd to think I would ever want to be like the Novhar who opened the Abyss and almost ended life on Eld."

"Especially," Malena inputted, "when you consider Erdohan is ten thousand years dead. It is different for us in Drasken because some of us, my grandparents included, survived the Cataclysm. But the Thousand Kings' natives are mortal, so such events must be considered far-fetched myth to them."

Tali shrugged. "The Novhar were supposed to be dead, though, and look what's happened." She gestured to herself and scoffed. "Did Erdohan definitely die?"

"By all accounts, he was consumed by the very Abyss he loosed onto Eld," Malena answered. "He either succumbed there or was torn asunder by the Ravessi he freed."

Certainties regarding the deaths of immortals meant less and less to Tali with each passing day. If Malena was as sure Erdohan was dead as everyone else had been about the Novhars' extinction, then she could almost assume he still lived. Could, but wouldn't, because she already had enough long-lived enemies to contend with.

"Even Katja Westervelt followed Indro," Tali noted, "and she's Drasken. She'd know talk of Erdohan was untrue."

Fell snorted. "Don't worry about that. I'm still prying all that woman's secrets from her clamped lips. I'm sure I'll find out the extent of Indro's propaganda soon."

"She's still alive?" Tali asked.

The Jalin nodded. "I'm not a monster, to kill a woman in my captivity." Though he didn't seem to grasp the irony of his statement—he'd ordered the deaths of most of Katja's unarmed family, after all—Tali wanted to laugh at his audacity.

"Where is she?" she asked. When the two immortals fixed her with frowns, she twisted her curiosity into feigned fear. "She imprisoned me. I just want to know she isn't anywhere close."

"You need not worry," Malena replied. "She is secure in Risyán's cells, under constant guard. Only Fellan and I can speak to her."

She didn't know why she'd wanted the information, but knowing Katja not only lived, but remained in the city, made Tali want to deflate in relief. She knew she shouldn't; the woman was a mercenary, a slaver, a colluder of Indro's and therefore an enemy of hers. But still, Katja had been grievously wounded by the circumstances of her life, and the extent of her fall from grace hadn't been her fault. Tali felt obligated to know what was happening to her.

Fell rolled his shoulders and climbed to his feet, Malena still a steadying presence behind him. "I think, now we know how aasiur reacts to you, we can focus your lessons a bit better."

"But, in the meantime, continue as you have," Malena added. "No one else can know how powerful you are."

The Jalin paced around his desk and set a calm hand on Tali's shoulder, then drew her to her feet. "I don't think of you as a weapon, child. I think of you as unlimited potential." To soften his words, he offered a boyish smile, and her defences lowered again. Whatever else he wanted with her, he'd risked himself to take her to Stromorre and was still willing to train her after what she'd almost done to him.

"You can be the most powerful mage Drasken has ever known, if you want," he said.

Yes, Tali thought, and recalled the ease with which she'd strangled Stromorre's aasiur. But how dangerous will I become in the process?