Blood in the Water by Juliet E. McKenna

Aremil, she’d have known but Kerith was so much more adept. No hint of his innermost thoughts floated through the aether to her.
    “Do you have family near to the fighting, or friends?”
    “ No.”
    Kerith’s brief reply offered no clarification.
    Jettin’s eager thoughts still pursued Duke Garnot. He paced back and forth across this echoing hall that existed only in Aremil’s imagination.
    “ We could bring him to bay all the sooner if we knew what he was planning—”
    “ No!”
    Kerith’s adamant refusal echoed around the shadowy aisle.
    Branca didn’t need to see into the older man’s mind to know how much he detested what he had done to Failla, when he’d forced her to reveal just what she’d betrayed to Pelletria, the Triolle spy. Failla had told Branca herself, shuddering with tears and halting words. She would suffer any violation of her body rather than endure that again, her every thought laid bare. If that was how she felt, what must Kerith think of himself?
    “ We cannot even contemplate doing something like that.”
    Seated in his high-backed chair, Aremil’s voice was firm, with none of the hesitation that afflicted him when they spoke face to face.
    “ We would never be able to argue that we’re using no magic to materially affect the outcome of this war.”
    Branca knew how often he rehearsed his defence against such an accusation.
    Not for the first time, Jettin wasn’t ready to yield.
    “ Mentor Tonin spoke of enchantments so subtle the victim doesn’t even know their thoughts have been read.”
    “Mentor Tonin is in constant correspondence with Planir the Black,” she said tartly. If the Archmage didn’t claim suzerainty over Artifice, he had rapidly forged links with all the most advanced adepts. “The less contact we have with the mentor, the more likely we are to escape censure.”
    Branca made sure to hide her own regret. She would dearly have loved to ask their old tutor how Artifice might be used in defence of herself and others. She had already been attacked once since embarking on this conspiracy, escaping crippling injury by the merest chance. She didn’t want to ever be so defenceless again.
    A torch in a bracket behind Aremil’s head flared briefly in response to his irritation.
    “ We’re straying from the point. What news do you have for me? ”
    “We only reached Toremal today,” she said quickly. “I should be able to tell you more tomorrow.”
    “ It will be some days before news of this battle reaches Abray. For the moment, the Caladhrians are telling themselves it’s hardly surprising that someone took advantage of Sharlac’s lack of a leader and attacked. They’re waiting to see what happens next.”
    No hint of reservation shadowed Kerith’s words. Branca was content to rely on his assessment.
    “ Everyone in Ashgil was keeping their head down when we left. As long as the guildmasters are running things, they’re willing to go with the run of the runes. Of course, if Duke Garnot prevails, they’ll swear on all that’s sacred how they were only taking care of his rights and dues.”
    For an instant, the clouds around Jettin’s thoughts thinned. Branca caught a glimpse of Dalasorian lancers riding down the Carluse boar’s head, the duke’s standard toppling, every man dying pierced by several lances.
    Was she the only one to see that? Kerith seemed to be still wrapped in his own concerns. Aremil was looking towards the far door.
    “ Forgive me. I must go. ”
    And with that, the stately hall dissolved like mist on a sunny morning. Branca was back in her silk-hung bedchamber. Her body had never left and she’d always been aware of the stool she sat upon, the closed door she faced, even the noises beyond. Adept as she was, she needed only a fraction of her mind to reach through the aether to the others. Though she was still striving to increase her awareness of everything around her while she was working enchantments. She wasn’t ever going to