The sunlight streamed through the dusty windows of the attic room Seiren had rented. She rubbed her eyes, the last familiar but nauseating trickle from her usual nightmare disappearing. Her stomach felt sensitive, as if one wrong scent could send it lurching.

On cue, the smell of burnt bacon reached her nostrils and she sat up and gagged. She reached for Madeleine's necklace and put it on, still retching.

The same dream, huh? came Madeleine's sympathetic voice. Her presence solidified as Seiren woke up properly.

It'll be nice if I can stop reliving that bloody night. Bile came up Seiren's throat. Ugh.

The images flashed before her eyes: her, only twelve, clutching with bloody hands her sister; the first retaliation rune she thought of, drawn in chalk in front of her; the twisted, bulbous-nosed face of that Hannan as he escaped into the night.

And the unfortunate, unintended victim of that retaliation rune: her mother.

Seiren's mouth dried. She buried her head in her hands, her bedraggled blonde hair poking in all directions.

You need to stop blaming yourself for that night. You did what you could.

"Can't." Seiren shook her head. The memories of her father's glassy-eyed stare at the ceiling and the sound of Madeleine's fading breathing made her chest tight again. Her hands, the same size as Seiren's but with bitten nails, had been so cold. The crushing panic and desperation was still so fresh in her heart, the moment Madeleine's heart stopped and Seiren's world splintered.

Well, no wonder you get nightmares.

Easy for you to say. You just switch off. Seiren bit her lips at those insensitive words. Sorry, Madeleine.

Stop blaming yourself, silly.

Seiren rubbed her head. No matter how many times Madeleine might say those words to her, Seiren still couldn't shrug off the guilt that perhaps she could have done something more that night. Maybe if she hadn't been so panicked, so desperate. Maybe if she had had more practice with runes. Maybe if she hadn't quarrelled with Madeleine that night and made her sleep in their parents' room, then she wouldn't have gone down to investigate the ruckus with Father. Then at least she would still have her sister here.

Would you have gone through so much at King's Academy then, though?

That's not the point. You wouldn't be dead.

Madeleine chuckled. Seiren got up with a sigh, shrugging out of her night dress and slipping on her tunic dress and leggings. After she'd stomped into her boots, she glanced in the dusty mirror. Her choppy shoulder-length blonde hair stuck up everywhere as usual. A hasty hand running through it softened some of the bumps and spikes. Long-lashed dark eyes had shadows of poor sleep beneath them. She pressed her lips together, making them disappear. That would do. She wasn't going out to seek a boyfriend or for an interview anyway. And yesterday's clothes weren't too ragged to be reworn.

A tapping on the window alerted her to mail when she washed her face. Drying it with a towel on the side, she marched over to the dirty window and threw it open. Warm morning air poured in. A fat grey pigeon sat there, tilting its head. A scroll was tied to its leg, a violet rune glowing on the tiny paper. She tugged off the string. The bird hopped on the spot, cooing. She poked it with a finger. It ruffled its feathers at her, affronted.

Beneath the rune on the scroll was the wax stamp of the Council of Mages. She waved her hand over the violet rune; the security seal dissipated.

'For the attention of Seiren Nithercott.

'As probationary state mage, you are required to undergo tutorship and supervision by a registered state mage for a minimum of one year. This tutor will be responsible for overlooking your professional and personal well-being and ensuring appropriate experience and education in becoming a fully-qualified state mage. It will be at the discretion of the tutor to recommend you for state mageship after one complete year.

'You are required to arrange a weekly meeting with your tutor, who will provide the Council with progress reports.'

That doesn't sound too bad, said Madeleine. Leaves you a lot of room to travel and train up your runes.

Yeah.

Seiren's eyes scrolled further down the page.

'Your assigned registered state mage is: Rowan Woodbead.'

Oh.

Her mouth fell open. For a moment, she contemplated sketching an orange rune and incinerating the letter, not that it would change the situation.

'Should you have any concerns, please do not hesitate to contact us at the above address.

Yours sincerely,'

"Well, rune me to hell," she said out loud, pulling a face. Rowan Woodbead? The cocky burst mage who couldn't read Seiren's rune? What on earth could he teach her that she didn't know already?

Burst magic, maybe? Madeleine said slyly.

Can I change supervisors?

Would you? It's a small world. What if you get a worse one? Rowan's not too bad.

Rowan 'Call me Mage Woodbead' short-ass? Please. He might get shorter if he sees me runing.

He's quite accomplished, though. He's one of the youngest state mages and it's a big deal being transferred to Benover. Whatever he looks like, he's good at his job.

Seiren slid the letter into one of her cloak pockets and left it hanging there. The fat pigeon still sat on the windowsill. With a sigh, she fetched some bird food from one of the small bowls next to the mirror and proffered it. The bird pecked with all the enthusiasm she now lacked. When her hand was empty, it took one last look at her and flapped away, its body so rotund Seiren wondered how it managed to stay airborne. She locked the door behind her and took the wooden steps downstairs for breakfast.

At least it means you'll be based in Benover, too, most of the time. The library there is meant to be quite legendary.

Ah yes, ever the silver-lining seeker.

One of us has to be, dear sister.

****

Across the table, Rowan grinned at her, surprisingly not smug.

"I was looking forward to more insults about my height today, my dear apprentice."

Seiren's hands curled into fists on her lap but she said nothing. The entire train journey into Benover, she had ruminated over their inevitable meeting. Beautiful as the autumn scenes had been as they flashed by, all the reds and yellows and greens in their glory like the colours of runes, she couldn't appreciate them. Behind every colour, she thought of being made to scrub the floor of Rowan's study, or carry his heavy books, or clean his clothes. And learning nothing about magic.

You're his apprentice in magic, not his slave.

"I specialise in burst magic, so there will be plenty I can teach you and train you in." He leaned back in his chair. The table was made of some polished, dark wood. Books and scattered documents piled high on either side. Pens poked out in haphazard directions in his pen pot on the right. Behind Seiren, his two subordinates she'd seen that day at Garlinge pummelled away at their typewriters, keeping to themselves. The bookshelves that lined all four walls were filled with thick tomes, some of them keeling into each other or placed flat instead of standing. He'd only gotten this job at most one month ago and this fancy office was already a tip.

"You're not training me in rune magic?" Seiren couldn't hide the surprise in her voice. Her fists tightened further.

"No." His voice was light, his expression amused. Those blue-green eyes gleamed. "You're already pretty good at that. What else is there to teach?"

Everything. Blue runes that electrocute. Indigo runes that induce catatonia and peruse the secrets of the mind. Violet runes that alter physical properties of any inanimate object. All the ones Seiren still had to perfect. She pressed her lips together. He seemed quite set in what he wanted to teach. She doubted protesting would change anything.

"Very well. When do we start?"

"Tomorrow. You'll be informed of tasks the Council expects you to do by post, but at any point when you are not dispatched elsewhere outside of Benover, I expect you to report to me. I'll teach you about burst magic. There's always something new to learn about that branch. It's a lot of fun."

"I look forward to it," said Seiren in as dead a voice as she could muster.

"I'm sure you will. Now," he said, leaning forward, "seeing as we'll be seeing each other a lot this year, how about we get to know each other? Charming as you are, I want to know more about the sharp-tongued little girl at the train station. I'm sure you're more than just someone with an agenda against that poor Hannan tourist."

Seiren snorted.

"There is nothing you need to know about me."

"Well, I can start. I'm Rowan Woodbead. I graduated from King's four years ago. Got my state mageship a year after that. I like dogs and building my library." He waved his hand to showcase his collection. "And you are...?"

"Dead on the inside."

"Oh? You mean there's nothing more to you than that attitude?"

She scowled.

"That gem around your neck, for example; I'm sure there's some history behind that."

Out of instinct, Seiren touched Madeleine's necklace. The room quietened. She was sure the two subordinates were listening in.

"I can see there's a rune in that stone. Quite an impressive one, too. Tell me – what does it do?"

"That's none of your business." Her voice came out in a snap. Rowan's eyebrows rose. He held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. Seiren leapt up, almost upending her chair. Her tunic dress stuck to her under the arms and along the back. Pins and needles tingled along her arms. She struggled to keep the tremble out of her voice. "If there's nothing useful you wish to say now, I will take my leave."

She couldn't leave that room fast enough. Her predicament hung heavy on her shoulders like lead. A year with the most arrogant state mage was bad enough, but he wasn't even going to teach her any rune magic. Burst magic was fancy and dramatic and all, but runes provided the reliable and steady source of energy that was needed in combat and general success. Burst was too fast, too unreliable, too narrow in its abilities despite its basis on the four elements.

Well, better than flash magic. At least he's not asking you to specialise so early.

Bloody nosy short-ass.

He's just a curious one. I'm surprised he could see the rune on that necklace though. You did it quite subtly.

I don't need him to start pitying me. Or teach me his rubbish.

It's not as bad as you make it out to be. Learning more magic can't possibly make you worse as a mage.

I need runes to bring you back, Madeleine. Burst doesn't cut it, no matter how good you are. There's no way to anchor the magic and no way to predict which way it'll go. It's warfare magic.

Then you'll just have to carve that path yourself. You want to ascend the state mageship ladder? Work with Rowan. He's a means to an end. Suck it up. Even if it means learning burst magic.

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