Rowan paced the room. Up and down. Up and down. Outside, the sun fell. The yellow light runes overhead flickered to life on cue. Tylene and Dent were outside; he could hear them muttering between themselves. But their orders were to secure the room and ensure he waited for Kommora Haigh's return. He clasped his hands behind his back and paced in her office once again, the bruise beneath his eye throbbing like the ticking of time. The images were seared into his mind: Loren's soulless eyes, her sunken lips, her icy hands. The way although her chest still moved, there was no life within that body. The stillness of her skin against his, devoid of the spark of magic that accompanied any mage.

He leapt to his feet when the door swung open. Kommora strode in, her cloak soaking wet and her greying dark hair plastered to her head. Her wrinkles deepened at the sight of Rowan. She didn't pause for pleasantries. She swung off her cloak and slammed it onto the stand beside the door. Her two aides, Liore and Ash, closed the door, glancing at Tylene and Dent, who looked on with concern.

"How is--"

"What kind of behaviour was that?" Kommora snapped, making Rowan flinch. His skin burned all over and a blush seared across his cheeks. "And you call yourself a state mage? Losing your professionalism, becoming a screaming tantruming child in front of the citizens of Benover, at your own student?"

Rowan withdrew, stung. His face burned with heat akin to an erupting volcano. Kommora's dark eyes simmered with obsidian fire.

"You're lucky it was me who was first responder, you weak-ass little pipsqueak. If it had been Portendorfer or Butterworth, they'd happily suggest to the council to strip you of your mageship seeing as your judgement is evidently so questionable."

He sat in the chair, slumping against the wooden frame.

"Just..." he rasped, and then cleared his throat. "How is she? Please."

Kommora paused, a softer look on her merciless features. "Rummage is alive. Just. The healers are with her right now. God knows what's been done to her. I can't even get a proper response--"

"Ask her," Rowan spat the word out loud, his hands curling into fists. All at once, Kommora's kindly expression vanished.

"Seiren Nithercott has nothing to do with this and you'd come to the same conclusion if you used your blasted head, you short-ass."

His hand flew to the bruise Seiren had given him.

"She was the only one there! Who else--"

"How do you think she injured Rummage then? And her motive?"

Rowan hesitated. "She's been conducting highly unethical experimentations--"

"--sanctioned by the council -- and my sources say she has actually closed that down a month ago."

"And that girl is Harred's daughter."

Kommora snorted. "Your father's a banished military tyrant. Should I assume the same of you?"

Rowan bit his lip. "No."

"You're not the only one that cares about Rummage." A look Rowan had never seen before appeared on Kommora's wrinkled face. "I scoured the scene. The only magic from Nithercott was some sad semblance of burst magic that could probably set some hay alight, but nothing more."

Kommora's lip twitched.

"Are you going to calm down or continue to stamp your feet like some petulant child?"

Petulant. The same word he'd called Seiren not that long ago. Rowan sucked in a breath and held a hand to his head. A headache pounded against his skull; seeing Loren so close to death had taken away his ability to think clearly, something he'd never thought he'd do again, not after Acrise and Ebbsfleet. Seeing her so gaunt like that wiped all reasoning skills and all he could think of was the last conversation they'd had -- if only she'd returned to Benover a few days later, and stayed longer in Finberry.

Unless there was something she'd discovered in Finberry that'd brought her back.

"The magic I found there was the same magic I found at Crina Nighy's death scene."

Rowan's mind sharpened. "Domic Butterworth?"

Kommora nodded, grave.

"Yes, and the other mage -- they'd used some magic I'd never seen before. Butterworth's flash magic I could just about trace. He probably counteracted Nithercott's fire. But the other mage drew something and my magic can't work with it." She frowned, staring with her arms crossed out of the darkened window. "I don't like it."

"There were two of them. This must be a premeditated attack." Rowan's mouth was dry. He swallowed; his throat still felt like a desert.

"That much is clear. But why? Why are they after Rummage? To the extent where they were ready to kill her -- if Nithercott hadn't happened on the scene?"

"Why would Seiren arriving put a stop to them--" Rowan could barely bring himself to say the words. "--killing Loren?"

"That's what I plan on asking the girl when she awakes. But for now--" Kommora stormed across the room and slammed her hand onto the table, making the occupants of the table surface and Rowan jump. "--you can start telling me why Loren was being targeted. Because I can bet your squat ass you have something to do with it."

Rowan's heart skipped a beat. Kommora's gaze could burn holes in his soul.

"I asked Loren to go to Finberry. Seiren's home town. Something didn't sit right. The information didn't add up." He began to recount the contents of the investigation six years ago, only to be interrupted by an irate Kommora.

"I'm quite aware, Woodbead. Just skip to the recent bits."

"I... I don't think Kristen Harred really died. Or at least, not in the way the records state. Seiren wouldn't -- couldn't -- tell me anything about that night. I figured it would get Loren out of the city, away from these crazy rogue mages, and see what went on in Finberry."

"So her aides would know what happened." She straightened up, her eyes narrowing. "I'll speak to them."

"Wait," Rowan said in a quiet voice. Kommora paused. "Please. Let me come with you."

"You've no idea how deep this hole is, Woodbead."

"I have to know. It's Loren. And Seiren is my student. I can't stay out of this."

"If you remember to keep your head cool," was her dry response. Rowan took that as a yes.

Loren's aide, Felora, was beside herself. Her other aide, Peron, didn't look too good, either. Both of their faces were pale and drawn, no doubt having heard about Loren's situation. Ash and Liore led them into Kommora's study and shut the door.

"Sit."

They sat without protest. Felora almost collapsed into the plush leather chair, her glasses askew and hair plastered to her head. Peron held himself together a bit better, maintaining eye contact with Rowan and then Kommora.

"Mages, please. How is Mage Rummage?"

"She's alive. Just. I don't know how she'll fare. The healers are doing what they can. Now -- tell me what happened."

"When we reached Benover station, she got off. We were just after her. Then, suddenly, she told us to run. I didn't see what happened. There were a lot of explosions and noise, and she just shouted 'Call the military' and ran off. We didn't see where she went. She put down a smoke rune." Peron shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. His dark green uniform was still soaked, the towel Liore had given him just resting on the shoulders. "We should have followed. We're her guards. We should have been there."

"There's nothing you could have done. The perpetrators were after Rummage specifically."

"They wanted her?" Felora spoke at last in a tiny, trembling voice. "But why? Who?"

"That's what we want to find out."

They both shook their heads.

"I didn't see who they were. There were too many people at the station."

"Sly, using the crowd to cover up their identities." Kommora scowled, crossing her arms. "What happened after that?"

"The other guys came pretty quickly, but Mage Rummage had long disappeared. Next thing we know we were being taken into custody because she'd been attacked."

"I thought... oh god. I think it was the rogue mages that'd killed the other mages so far." Felora buried her face in her hands. Peron patted her back awkwardly. "It's all our fault. We should have stayed by her!"

"And if you had, you would be dead. You would have been nothing but collateral damage in the way."

Felora flinched. Rowan couldn't help but feel Kommora could have exhibited more tact.

"What did Rummage find out in Finberry?"

"She spoke with some old neighbours of Mage Nithercott's -- the Feblands. They spoke about the Harred girls' childhoods and the night Mage Harred got killed. I didn't hear the details -- we didn't think it appropriate to intrude upon a mage's duty. But something didn't add right with Mage Rummage and she wanted to examine the old cottage the girls lived in. She did some magic there..."

"A tracker rune," said Felora. "It was a tracker rune. She's shown me that before. She said it was helpful for showing old runes and some burst or flash magic."

Kommora's brow knitted together. Rowan's mind swirled. It wasn't of great surprise there were runes there, at Kristen Harred's home. The binding of Madeleine's soul must have been visible on that tracer rune, too.

"Did you see what she found?"

Felora shook her head. "Too complex for me. There was just a lot of lights. Then she just said, 'We need to get back to Benover. Now.' She didn't explain anything, but we know we military personnel aren't privy to mage business so we didn't ask."

"I see."

Rowan turned to Kommora after she sent the two exhausted aides away. "You think it's worth seeing the Harred's house?"

Kommora rolled her eyes. "Be real, Woodbead. The king's mages know Loren knows something she shouldn't. And they knew she came from Finberry and attacked that very train coming into Benover. They knew she was at Finberry. My guesses are that house is now burned to the ground."

"What now, then?"

"This is too much of a coincidence."

"What is?"

Rowan never felt more like a child before Kommora's disdainful look.

"I suppose you were too busy licking your wounds to read the latest news." She sniffed. "The king of Hanna is dying."

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