The Tainted City by Courtney Schafer Page A

was the last time you slept, huh?”
    “Sleep has…been a little difficult.” He hadn’t managed more than scant moments of rest in between the nightmares that woke him, shuddering and sweating, the remembered taste of blood gagging his throat.
    “I’ll bet.” Dev studied him, frowning. “Look, the quakes…you’re certain they’re, uh, unnatural?”
    From his hesitant phrasing, he must think Kiran would dissolve into a whimpering heap if he mentioned Ruslan’s name. Kiran said dryly, “You mean, are they caused by overspill from Ruslan attacking Alathia’s wards?”
    Dev spread his hands in silent, self-mocking apology. “Yeah.”
    Kiran sighed. “With my power bound, I can barely sense spells cast in the same room, let alone what might be happening a hundred miles distant at the border. But I’m certain it’s Ruslan. Who else would have the strength and desire to damage the wards?” He told Dev of the diseased-looking holes he’d seen in Stevannes’s spell, and his banishment thereafter from the Arcanum. Dev’s expression turned grim as he listened.
    Kiran finished off with, “The Alathians won’t tell me a thing, or listen to my offers of help. Marten says to be patient, but—”
    “ Marten , is it now?” Dev cast a dark glance at the door.
    “I know you’re wary of him,” Kiran said. “But he and Lena have been kind to me. The others, well…” He trailed off, embarrassed. Even Stevannes at his most acerbic couldn’t compare to what Dev must have endured at the mine.
    “The others, what?” Dev demanded.
    Kiran shrugged. “They never forget I’m a blood mage.” Stevannes was the most vocal about it, but Kiran had seen the wary revulsion in the other Alathians’ eyes.
    “You’re not a blood mage,” Dev said flatly. “Not anymore. Fuck the Alathians, if they can’t get that through their heads. But…I know what you’re afraid of, because I am too. Question is, how do we stop the Council from tossing us back to Ruslan?”
    Kiran’s chest tightened at the thought. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I thought if I could devise some defensive spellwork to offer…but it’s difficult, without access to proper materials and information.”
    “Access.” Dev’s fingers rose to tap on his torc, and his gaze drifted to the wards bracketing the study window.
    Kiran sucked in a breath of sudden surmise. Dev had spent his childhood as a thief. As an adult he no longer had the Taint to help him slip past wards, but he’d proved on their trip through the Whitefires that his cleverness could make up for the lack. Perhaps Dev thought he could sneak into the Arcanum and find the information Kiran needed? Between Dev’s collaring charm and the mages guarding them, it seemed an impossible task. But then, Dev’s specialty seemed to be succeeding at impossible tasks.
    Dev raked a hand through his coarse dark hair. He darted another glance at the door and slid a folded letter from his shirt.
    “I’ve news from Cara. Thought you might like to read it, know she’s okay.” He brushed a finger over his lips, a warning clear in the intensity of his gaze.
    The wards in the study walls were fully quiescent to Kiran’s inner senses, with no hint of scry-magic tinging the aether. But if Dev was so concerned over eavesdroppers from the Watch, Kiran would be cautious. He gave Dev a slight nod and took the letter, curiosity rising.
    As he scanned the scrawled text, Kiran’s breath caught, his fingers whitening on the paper. Before Marten had escorted Cara to the border, she’d pulled Kiran aside and told him in a sharp, hurried whisper of her intent to sell information to the spy Pello in exchange for his help freeing Melly. Kiran had been so relieved; Cara seemed so competent, so assured, he’d thought she’d surely succeed in fulfilling the promise Dev had forsaken to help Kiran. But if this letter referred to Pello, and she couldn’t find him, or some other way to rescue Melly in