It started off as the easiest burglary of Domi's life.

As he sauntered in his new high-necked lavender paenula through the cherrywood gates of the Silvula Salutis Collegium, he couldn't believe his luck. These people had no security. None. No guards. Open gates. No one at all to ask his business.

Idiots.

He strode into the courtyard like he owned the place, mindful not to trip over his clothes or gawk at the sorcerers milling around, laurels blazing all the colors of the rainbow. Most of them were kids, many far younger than him; the Collegium had three schools for Promethidae children.

No one spared him a glance. He frowned. Too few people bustled about for a new face to pass without remark. Did random strangers wander around so often no one worried about thieves and other troublemakers?

A moment later, he rolled his eyes. Of course no one worried about possible thieves. After all, what Pyrrhaeus would ever be stupid enough to try to steal from a whole complex full of Promethidae?

A nervous chuckle squeezed out of his tensing body at the thought. He struggled not to let the utter terror now crashing over him show as he met the gaze of every Promethidae he passed. Instead, he offered each a casual, confident nod, like he belonged in the basilica and most definitely didn't plan to steal anything.

His mouth dried to sticky paste as he waltzed past massive white columns, up a gilded gold staircase, down a spacious gallery overlooking the nave below, and through the fifth door on his left.

Domi strode into the Collegium's Empowerment atrium like he visited every day. His eyes darted about the domed rotunda until his gaze landed on his target.

The lapis translationis. The polished stone perched on a golden velvet cushion, every facet gleaming a deep, vivid blue.

Domi cursed under his breath. The Appraiser said the promenia artifact changed colors after it collected a donor's blood. He offered up a silent prayer to the Eternal Radiance a mere trick of the light gave the stone its brilliant blue sheen. Please, please let there be streaks of crimson when he took a closer peek.

"Ahem."

He jerked and whirled around, legs tangling a bit in his confining paenula.

A young woman slouched in a chair, reading through a ledger. He had not noticed her in the corner. Crap. He should have paid more attention. Looked harder. He was better than this.

"Name?" she asked, not sparing him a glance. Lifeholder emerald shone around her throat.

"N-name?"

She glanced up with a smile. "Nervous?"

He blinked. "Ah..."

"Many people feel that way, but don't worry. I'll be here if aught goes wrong. Now, I need your name."

"Ah... Domi?" A second later he cringed. Idiot! He knew better than to use his real name. The panic coursing through him for days while he'd watched his ma deteriorate was making him careless. It churned in his belly now and dampened his palms with sweat. He had to get the stone. He just had to.

Trying to appear casual, he wandered closer to the lapis translationis.

She lifted a brow. "Pyrrhaei name. Interesting. You must be a wild find. Are you going to change your name if we're successful?"

"Oh, yes." He had no idea what she blathered on about. "Of course."

"That's a good plan. Many people change their names after Empowerment, not just ferals."

He offered a sage nod and sidled closer to the stone. "Is this the lapis translationis?" Best to confirm his target before doing the stupidest thing in his entire life.

"Yes, it is. Now, hmm... Domi, I don't see your name on the list for this week's Empowerments."

Domi darted his hand out and snatched the stone from its cushion. He turned and bolted with his prize.

Her shout followed him into the gallery.

He yanked the hood of his paenula over his head as he tore along the railed balcony and down the stairs, dodging surprised Promethidae. Domi glanced down at the stone and cursed under his breath. He had been right before. No red streaked the cobalt blue rock face.

He needed to collect some blood. Great.

As he jumped the last few steps and tore down the nave, he gave himself no time to consider the reckless thing he was about to do. No time to reconsider.

Heart pounding, he sprang at the first Lightbearer he spotted.

Edera was walking through the basilica to visit her father and his surly friend when rough hands grabbed her and hauled her backward.

The lifeholder girl shrieked and found her body yanked up against a warm chest. An arm wrapped around her throat, and she froze.

Around her, people turned to stare, and Edera's blood chilled as breath puffed against her cheek and a voice whispered in her ear. "I just need a little of your blood." The youthfulness of the masculine voice filled her with no less fear than before. Something cold pressed against her neck above her emerald laurel, and the breath froze in her chest. Sweet Eternal Radiance, a knife?

She must stay still. Father's Armati always said if someone sought to hold her against her will, she should avoid escalating the situation. She should follow her assailant's instructions until she assessed the danger and discerned how best to respond. She should wait for help to intervene, try to negotiate, or at least stay calm and rational. People surrounded her and her attacker, shouting in alarm; she just needed to keep her wits about her and—

"Let me go! Let go!" she howled, writhing frantically in the boy's arms. She half expected the chill bite of a blade any moment, and terror reduced her to a wild animal.

"I won't hurt you," her captor said, but his hands tightened, and whatever pressed against her throat dug in enough to bruise. Not a blade then, but perhaps a cluden hilt. If he activated the promenia... She shuddered. "I'm Pyrrhaei," the boy continued, and Edera stiffened in shock at the words. "I can't hurt you even if I wanted to."

A Pyrrhaeus? A Pyrrhaeus dared lay a hand on her in her father's own basilica? White-hot fury surged through Edera's veins, and she reached for the hum of promenia. "Let me go," she hissed, drawing the magic particles toward herself. If he tried to harm her, she would gut him like a pig!

"I will in a second if you'll hold still," he murmured in her ear. The thing at her throat shifted, and she wheezed as the boy suddenly shoved it up against her windpipe. "Keep away," he warned the growing crowd, and his grip on her tightened. She stumbled, heels dragging against the marble as he drew her back with him away from the crowd. "Or I'll break her neck."

Edera's heart sank as the kids and adults around her froze and the boy behind her inhaled a relieved breath. No one was going to save her from this Pyrrhaei madman. She must save herself.

Domi should never have turned his attention away from the pink-haired lifeholder girl.

One moment, he glanced from the stone at her throat to the crowd, trying to think of a way to escape once he collected the blood. A second later, the petite girl heaved him back into the nave like someone three times stronger than she appeared. He tumbled through the air and slammed into the marble floor.

He sprang back to his feet in an instant, hip and elbow throbbing. "So, I can explain," he said, holding his hands up and backing away from the narrow-eyed Lightbearer kid.

"Die, Pyrrhaeus." The girl threw one hand up, slicing the air between them in a jerking motion, and a soft, meaty tearing sound erupted in the broad hall.

If he must die, Domi would rather meet his end back home in the slums, not in some stuffy basilica at the hands of a pink-haired sorcerer. His eyes darted toward the portico, the courtyard beyond, the walled gate, and freedom.

He ran.

That was when, only a few steps into the courtyard, the worst thing possible happened. His legs wobbled, more fatigued by far than he expected so early in his flight. His paenula tangled once more around his legs, and his toe caught on the ground. Then he stumbled, throwing his arms out.

The indigo stone flew out of his hand and bounced toward a bubbling fountain.

Domi cursed, taking a step toward the rock. He failed to collect the girl's blood, but perhaps he could try to use the stone on the Dyer next.

But now people poured out of the basilica and other Collegium buildings, and he froze as wrathful Promethidae gathered between him and his prize.

Sobbing in disappointment, he darted the other way, out the courtyard's cherrywood gates and into the forum. And ran.

Domi had never been any good at running. The illness afflicting him from birth guaranteed that. Still, most days he managed at least several blocks before dizzying breathlessness and nauseating fatigue threatened to keel him over.

Not so today. Heaving for air, he staggered into the amphitheater wall. Wet warmth spread across his belly. And pain.

Why was there pain?

He dropped his gaze and stared. A crimson stain blossomed on the belly of his brand-new paenula. Yet no tear or puncture marred the fabric.

Confused, he pressed his hand to the spreading stain and gasped, knees buckling, as agony slammed through his middle.

"Crap," he mumbled, cold sweat beading on his forehead. "All right. Um..."

There had been no pain when the sparrow-like lifeholder did whatever she'd done. A knife? No, he hadn't felt the pressure of a knife going in. He would have felt that, right?

"Crap," he said again and levered himself up the amphitheater wall. His palm left a bloody handprint as he pushed himself off the limestone, and he gulped. "Home," he said with a gasp, taking a shaky step toward the slums and then another. "I have to go home."