Nightfall: Book Two of the Chronicles of Arden by Shiriluna Nott, SaJa H

at Hasain. “You wear your white robes so sparingly I guess I never noticed.”
    Hasain was as smug as a cat with a feather on its lip. “Anyone born with the gift can become a mage. Extra training is required to be a politician. I choose to make the most of myself.” He gestured toward Kezra’s dry uniform. “Simple. Problem solved.”
    If Hasain was waiting for thanks, he was surely disappointed when Kezra stepped around him and pointed at Nawaz. “I could arrest you, you know!”
    Nawaz turned a devilish grin on her. “Empty threats, dear. You can shackle me if you want though. Just go gentle at first.”
    “Ugh,” Gib groaned, falling back a step.
    Tarquin had his back to them already, his crimson face reminding Gib of a pyre. Hasain made some strangled sound of discontent, and Kezra, of all people, laughed like a fiend.
    Her mirth effectively covered the sounds of another man as he approached. Tall and slender, he swept through the crowd with precision and authority. His white mage robes billowed out behind him and his sour, haughty frown made people jump out of the way faster. Gib didn’t notice him until the man was an arm’s length away.
    “Kezra! What the hell happened back there? Did you catch the guy who—oh, it’s him .” The man narrowed his emerald eyes and gave Nawaz a shrewd look. “I suppose this means he won’t be getting arrested.”
    Nawaz ducked behind Kezra. “Sorry, Zandi. I didn’t see how close you were standin’ to her. I didn’t mean for you to get wet, too!” He chuckled and ruined any credibility he might have hoped to build.
    “Well, that makes it all better then, doesn’t it?” The newcomer crossed thin arms over his chest.
    Gib only then noticed how out of sorts the man looked with his mussed hair and wet uniform.
    Zandi Malin-Rai was Kezra’s elder brother, and though they shared the same dark skin and green eyes, that was about where their similarities ended. He definitely took after their father for build and features as well as his cold disposition—though despite his icy words and detached nature, he wasn’t unhandsome.
    Kezra waved off her brother’s concerns. “If you’d been doing your job and not bothering me then you wouldn’t have been in the line of fire.”
    “That hardly makes his behavior excusable!” Zandi rubbed his hands together briskly before repeating the same magic trick Hasain had performed just moments before. Zandi muttered under his breath the entire time, still giving Nawaz death glares.
    Gib shook his head. “You mages and your magic. I suppose I’ll never understand it.”
    Zandi’s green eyes flew wide, and his cheeks went a shade darker. His hands came up to fidget with his long onyx hair as he avoided eye contact with Gib. Cutting his sister a vicious glare, he muttered, “You didn’t mention your friends were here. You should introduce us properly.”
    It seemed a funny request. Gib had met Zandi before and was sure everyone else here had, too. With the exception of Gib, all those present were of noble birth and had fathers or step-fathers on the High Council. More than once they’d all crossed paths at formal events and holidays. Gib owed his good fortune of being Koal’s understudy as his means of attending these same gatherings.
    Kezra didn’t even try to be discreet about her brother’s odd inquiry. In fact, true to the nature of any sibling, she had a smug look in her eye as she ridiculed him in public. “You know damned well who he is! Gib, this is Zandi. Zandi, that’s Gib—not that you didn’t know. You need me to remind you who Tarquin is? How about Hasain? Or Nawaz?”
    Zandi openly fumed, and Gib took it upon himself to laugh them out of the awkward situation. After all, it had happened to him more than once while trying to remember the names of everyone at court. He offered his hand for a shake. “I’m Gibben, but please call me Gib. And don’t worry, I wouldn’t remember my name either if I were