Tribute by Ellen Renner Page B

stare at the strands of hair, at the blood soaking into the sheet, and demand that they grow. Increase, change, fuse.
    It’s hard work, but slowly, a semi-human shape grows upon the bed. It’s not alive in any sense of the word. But it has substance. I find that when I raise the knife over my head and plunge it into the place where a heart should be.
    Twiss gasps.
    I leave the knife embedded in the figure, raise both hands, and kindle fire. The fire flows from my hands onto the bed and the thing it contains. It puddles on the bed, lapping merrily, flickering upwards, consuming. Little will remain. But there will be enough to lead the searchers to believe that Zara, only child of Benedict, Archmage of Asphodel, is dead.
    I dissolve the soundproof shell and nod to the thief. Twiss stares at me, eyes wide with superstition and fear. But she turns at once and leads me out of the room.

13
    Twiss disappears. The child seems to melt into the very stones of the palazzo. I gape at the spot where she was standing a moment ago, then jump as a hand grabs my wrist. The thief’s face looms in front of me and I flinch in surprise.
    Twiss bares her teeth in a mirthless grin. She lets go of me, jerks her head and slinks away, keeping low and creeping along the wall. She stops to glance back. The message is clear: follow and keep up!
    I try to copy her movements but my arms and legs feel even clumsier. I ease round a corner to find I’ve lost her again. Nothing but shadows and cold dead stone. Torchlight flares at the end of a corridor and I freeze. Someone yanks me sideways into a cross passage. Mouth dry with fear, I squeeze against the wall beside an annoyingly calm Twiss as a group of guards pass, wooden batons drawn, escorting a huddle of kine. Guildspeople  …  almost certainly Knowledge Seekers. As the guards and their prisoners disappear from sight, Twiss turns her head and spits. Otherwise, during the entire journey, she makes no sound.
    I make too many. I clench my teeth as I graze a wall with my shoulder. My boot scuffs the floor with a clunk that makes Twiss turn to glare at me. The thief seems able to turn invisible just by the way she moves, stands and breathes. Although it’s heresy to think that a kine might be able to do magic, I can’t explain it otherwise.
    By the time we reach the cellars, her every movement expresses contempt. I’ve had enough.
    â€˜Hang on!’ I hiss and conjure a finger of mage light. It flickers, pale blue, above my head. I’m tired of travelling blind. The cellars are surely safe – the guards have no business down here, but neither do we. Why has the thief led me here? Twiss twirls around. Even in the dim light, outrage is plain on her face. I ignore her gestures to be silent. I want answers before I take another step. ‘Where are you taking me?’
    â€˜I ain’t tellin’ you that,’ she hisses. It’s a secret between us thieves. I never even told Bruin. Now shut up and keep up or I’ll leave you behind!’
    I glare at her, at the end of my patience, then freeze in astonishment as she screams and rises into the air, twisting and winding like a ball on the end of a string.
    â€˜I hesitate to interrupt, but I fear I
must
enquire  … ’ The voice comes from a darkened doorway directly in front of us. I don’t need light to know who it is. I know that voice only too well. ‘ …  what you, Lady, are doing in the cellars at this time of night. And in such company.’
    Red mage light rises in the air over our heads, and in its lurid glow, Aluid’s face leers out of the darkness. The bottle of wine tucked under one arm explains his own presence here – my tutor has taken a break from the night’s activities to raid the wine cellars. His puffy eyes blink and he smiles. Like a cat tormenting a mouse.
    Twiss screams. She dangles in mid-air and my heart lurches as I see the