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“Because she had bewitched him with her magic; she placed our prince into a trance that even he did not realize and she brought him into her den to strike him down. For all we know, she plotted with the Northerners.” Vhalla clenched the bars tightly; ignoring the pain the tension in her muscles caused her shoulder. “A magic that bewitches men and steals free will alone should be a crime punishable by death. There is no other—”

“I did no such thing!” Vhalla cried.

“The prisoner will keep quiet!” the Emperor bellowed, slamming his staff down with a large clang.

Vhalla shrunk back and dropped her head.

Egmun could take anything people said and turn it into whatever he wanted. He had the Senate eating from his palms by the time the witness was done. Vhalla was fairly certain he could claim that she had a second head springing from her naval that sucked out people’s souls through their noses, and they gladly believe him. She raised her head half an inch to look at Aldrik through the curtain of her hair.

He’d yawn from time to time and made a show of looking bored with all the proceedings. She wondered if it was hard for him to sit through. It was insulting to say someone like her could command him in any way, just as it was insulting to imply that she could affect him as a master sorcerer. Then there were the rest of the lies. Vhalla rested her forehead on the bars as Egmun called the second witness.

The second witness was a man, a builder, who was saying that the demolished houses showed signs of wind and not explosion damage. That they may have been standing today otherwise. The third was a woman whose daughter had died in the square, and Egmun made the point that perhaps her daughter had survived the explosion but instead the wind killed her.

“The Minister of Sorcery, Victor Anzbel,” Egmun called.

The minister took the dais. He had a fist on his hip and stood easily. “It’s been a while, Egmun.” Victor grinned.

The senator sneered. “This is hardly a social call, minister. We have serious matters to discuss.” Egmun was stiff.

“I can see that. I very seriously wonder why you locked away one of the most promising apprentices the Tower has ever received like some common criminal.”

Egmun raised his eyebrows.

Vhalla tried to keep the surprise off her face. She was officially an apprentice of the Tower? She glanced to Aldrik. A spark in his eyes directed at Egmun had been lit. He was amused.

“An apprentice of the tower?” Egmun seemed to have the same questions she did. “There are no rec—” He was shuffling through papers on a small desk nearby him when the minister cut him off.

“Of course there aren’t. Nothing had been made public yet. We were waiting until after the festival to announce it. She had friends in the library, and we wanted them to enjoy the celebrations. It seemed rather ill-timed to do it during the festivities,” Victor explained easily.

Vhalla blinked.

“If this all occurred, then where are the documents?” Egmun asked in haste.

“Oh, my apologies, senator.” Victor fussed in his bag and produced an official-looking paper. He walked over and Egmun met him at the bottom of the steps leading to the senatorial seats. “You should find it all in order.”

Egmun glanced over the parchment with a frown.

“This bears the seal of the prince,” Egmun growled.

“It certainly does,” Victor said matter-of-factly. “He is very active in the Tower, as you know.”

Vhalla looked across at Aldrik. He had a small smirk curling up the corners of his mouth. His confidence fit on him like well-tailored clothing.

“And of the Master of Tome...” The paper shook like an autumn leaf in Egmun’s hands.

Vhalla blinked. It had Mohned’s mark?

“Senators, I think you will find all the necessary signatures, mine and Vhalla’s included.”

Her signature was on there? It had been forged, and she had a suspicion she knew by who. The master wouldn’t, even if he knew it was her wishes, and Victor didn’t know her writing.

Aldrik allowed his eyes to meet hers levelly for a moment, and she knew. He was asking for her silence with that dark gaze. She closed her eyes for half a breath and looked back at him, hoping he understood. While she had never told the prince her decision in the end, she had to assume that somehow he knew. Vhalla wondered if Mohned’s signature was a fake too or if the master was also stretching the truth on her behalf.

“We had actually started working with her; it would have been irresponsible of us not to. She’s been in the Tower quite a bit since her awakening. She even has a mentor.” He produced another piece of paper, and Vhalla realized Larel was also fighting for her. It was a relief to see that Egmun wasn’t the only one who could paint pictures with words.

“If she was in such control by the Tower, then what happened the Night of Fire and Wind?” Egmun said roughly, his annoyance showing.

“Everyone Manifests differently. There hasn’t been a Windwalker in almost one hundred fifty years. We can only operate on the best knowledge we have,” Victor said casually.

“That lax attitude may have gotten innocent people killed,” Egmun sneered.

“I believe the prince was doing his best to keep an eye on our promising apprentice and those around her. We can only make adjustments going forward. But as a point of reference, were there any confirmed deaths from the cyclone?” Victor asked.

Egmun paused.

“Quite the contrary,” an old and sagely voice called from the back of the room. All eyes turned and Vhalla smiled; Mohned had come. “Forgive my tardiness, good ladies and sirs of the Senate, your graces of the Empire.” He walked slowly to the edge of public seating on the left. The master stood at the short fence that blocked off the area from the central testimony dais.

“Only one witness is to speak at a time,” Egmun scolded, glaring at Mohned.

“I would like to hear what he has to say, Head Elect,” an Eastern female senator called.

Mohned turned to the Emperor. “If it would please your highness?” the master asked.

The Emperor looked to the Senate and received motions of approval, so he gave Mohned a nod. Master Mohned crossed through the gate to stand on the dais with Victor. Vhalla looked at him; he was hunched over and looked every year of his age.

“Please explain what you meant,” the female senator asked, taking some control from Egmun.

“I just came from the clerics. Unfortunately, one of my apprentices died in the explosion.”

Sareem, Vhalla breathed his name faintly, his face clouding her vision in an instant. Would she ever have a chance to mourn him? Or would she soon meet him in the Father’s realms beyond?

“But another was with him. The girl’s name is Roan.”

“Is Roan alive, master?” she called frantically.

The Emperor seemed to let the outburst slide, much to Egmun’s annoyance.

The master gave her a nod. “She will heal in time, the clerics say,” the master replied with a nod.

Vhalla didn’t try to hide her tears of joy. “I’m so glad,” she rasped.

“Well, this is just touching, but I fail to see how it is relevant.” Egmun was trying to regain control.

“Roan, my apprentice, was discovered right next to the epicenter of the wind storm,” the master pointed out. “I have been told the storm had such force it ripped apart the attacking Northerners and tore down buildings. If she was right next to it, would she not have been tossed to shreds also?”

A murmuring coursed through the senators. Egmun looked around, his face twisting in rage.

“Now that you mention it,” Baldair joined the conversation with a thoughtful rub of his chin. “None of the bodies were moved, alive or dead. They hardly seemed touched by the wind at all. They still littered the road. I would’ve imagined them blown about.”

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