"How can both of you be Master Anu's apprentice?"

Whilst Master Anu held audience with the king and the other Windcasters for the next few days, Tia and Mommu exercised with the trainees. They glanced up from their conversation and met the inquisitive eyes of one of their fellow students. He reminded Tia of a monkey, with a strong nose and a pointed chin, and he was twitchy, almost as though he couldn't bear to remain still for more than five seconds.

"Why not?" Tia was affronted by the sceptical tone in the other boy's voice. He was maybe a year or two older, but he was spindly and his trainee cloak swamped him.

Nisroch of Balcarry blinked as though to emphasise his surprise at her response.

"Windcasters only ever take on one apprentice at a time." He held a trace of a sneer and turned to Mommu. "Are you sure you are not just a stable boy who has a bit of a gift?"

"I am sure." Mommu flushed. Tia scowled. She didn't like him one bit. Tensing, she readied herself for a fight.

"But you cannot both be under Master Anu, even if he is one of the best Casters in history." He didn't appear to have heard them. "It just takes too much time; one of you will just end up dragging the other down."

"Stop being so antagonistic, Nisroch," said a deep voice. Another trainee had wandered over at the rising heat. It was a still day, and sound travelled quickly. "It is not your business how many trainees any Windcaster takes on."

"You know it to be true though, Sin," Nisroch said, putting his hands on his hips.

The apprentice from Pathos shook his head, disapproval in his eyes, which were as blue as the sky overhead. The weather was almost always dry and clear in Capital, making it an ideal place for cultivation of food and rearing of animals – except neither occurred in the city.

"Go away, Nisroch," Tia said through gritted teeth, her emerald eyes narrowed at him. It was not the first time the Balcarry trainee had spoken out of turn, voicing his thoughts without due concern for the recipient.

"Perhaps if Mommu were a proper Caster, I would not doubt his ability."

"Nisroch," Sin said, with a hint of warning in his low voice.

"Just because Mommu is terrible at Casting, it does not give you any rights to put him down," she shot back with a glare. Behind her, Mommu flushed. Nisroch sneered at him.

"I cannot imagine a bumbling trainee such as him in charge of running city affairs in the future. No doubt the people will tire of your inadequacy and there will be an uprising. Save yourself the embarrassment an–argh!"

Without warning, one of the city flags was blown off the edge of the building, landing with the pole horizontal right on top of the Balcarry student's feet, and he yelped in pain. The silky flag rustled and covered his head, tangling his limbs and he fell in an ungraceful heap on the floor.

A little girlish snigger came from somewhere behind Sin and Nisroch.

"Nintu!" roared the boy, scrambling out of his heap and racing after the trainee who had blown the flag down.

With a sigh, Sin trudged after the pair, leaving Mommu and Tia in silence.

"I am going, Mommu," Tia said out of the blue. It took a moment for him to reply.

"What?"

"I am going to check on Enlil." She straightened up. "Cover for me, Mommu."

"But Tia–"

She didn't hear the rest of his protest.

****

Tia's quick fingers fastened the white robes she had 'borrowed' around her; at a glance, she appeared no different to the average citizen of Capital. The temperature rose on leaving the breezy training centre and on descending the hill. Half-running to the stables, she wondered what Enlil had gotten up to in the past few days. He had displayed no suspicious or worrying behaviour since Hume; nevertheless, Tia couldn't shake off the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

"How dare you be so impudent?" The voice cracked out like a whip from a nearby barn. Tia flinched from the rage. She crawled on top of the wooden boxes stacked behind the building and peeped through the windows at the top, heart pounding and dreading to hear Enlil's retort.

Is this how Mommu feels most of the time?  She scanned the dark interior of the large wooden structure. Beyond the numerous stacks of hay, she could make out two figures. The sound of a slap rang through the air.

Tia breathed a sigh of relief as she failed to recognise the whimper of pain emitted, but then tensed again when she did recognise the tall outline standing in the semi-darkness, at the other end of the stable.

"Next time you fail such a simple task again," the minister roared, backhanding the stable boy with another resounding smack and sending the poor slave flying to the ground, "I will order ten lashes for you. Imbecile!"

The boy swallowed another whimper and got shakily to his feet, one hand clutching his bleeding nose. Tia could just about make out the brand scorched onto his right wrist. He was obviously still dizzy and recovering from the smack as he collapsed onto his knees again.

The man, dressed in white, kicked him, hard, in the abdomen. The soft thud of contact, followed by the retching noise, made her sick in the stomach.

"When I tell you to bring me my carrier," – The minister raised his hand again – "I expect you to–"

As he brought his hand down, Tia squeezed her eyes shut, bowing her head so that her fringe obscured her line of sight, anticipating the slap and the cry of pain. Instead, she heard an exclamation of surprise from the man.

She hadn't noticed Enlil creeping up behind the minister. She bit back a gasp, seeing the well-built boy gripping the other man's wrist in a steely grip, his face contorted in rage.

"How dare you!" the white-robed man spluttered in outrage, his round face flushing and his double chin wobbling in indignity. "Remove your hand at once, I say! I shall see you whipped for this!"

Enlil didn't reply; instead he twisted the man's arm upward behind him, not unlike how the guards outside had done to him. The man grunted, forced to bend at the hip.

The stable boy stared in horror at the scene unfolding before him.

"You will not harm that boy again," growled Enlil. "You will not persecute any more slaves. You will not–"

"Help!" the man wailed at the top of his voice. "I am being assaulted! Help!"

Enlil cursed, letting go at once. The man stumbled onto all fours and scrabbled out, shrieking.

Tia's heart raced as she turned left and right, looking for an escape route for her friend. She could already hear the fast-approaching footsteps of the guards running towards the stables. Her immediate thought was to rush in and help.

Out of the blue, Mommu's voice popped into her head, shouting, "Don't be so reckless!"

She paused, torn. Nobody was there there to back her up. The voice of reason was right: this was reckless.

She turned again to the window, agonised.

"Enlil!" The boy turned in surprise and spotted her at once. She gestured, eyes fixated on the half-open barn door. The stable boy shut them at once, sliding a wooden plank across to lock it for the time being. "Come!"

The injured boy gave Enlil a nod of gratitude. Enlil, grinding his teeth, climbed over the haystacks and reached the windows, hauling himself out with relative ease. The guards were bashing at the wooden door. On the third contact, the wooden doors splintered open, sending shards everywhere. The stable boy scrabbled for cover.

"Where is he?" the minister said in a shrill voice, pink in the face. "Where is that wretched scoundrel?!"

"What were you thinking?" Tia said, horrified. Enlil scowled, no sign of regret on his tanned face as he climbed down the stack of wooden boxes. The glower remained as he stared up at her, his fists clenched and feet planted squarely on the smooth stone ground.

"This is the start, Tiamat!" Fire burned in his pale eyes. There was an excitement she had never seen before. "There will be an uprising and I will be there every step of the way. Nothing is going to stop us – Capital will fall, the king and his whimsical government will – the people will rise!"

"Hush, Enlil!"

"You are still indecisive," he accused, narrowing his eyes. "This is the time for change – if you are not supportive of the cause, you are against it; and I shall put down all those that stand in the way!"

The last words ended in a shout.

"There he is!"

Tia bit back a squeal as the guards appeared round a corner and sped towards the boy. She held her breath, but the men ignored her, wholly fixated on chasing Enlil.

There was a shout and a thump as another set of guards collided with the running boy. She could see him struggling against the two men pinning his arms at the sides.

She bit her lip. What could she do? She didn't have her staff and Mommu was nowhere to be seen.

She held out a trembling hand, feeling for the tendrils of Wind energy in the air. She reached out, aligning her own energy, and tried to bend them to her will. They slipped out of her grasp. Making a noise of exasperation, she made another attempt. Again, they refused to fall in line.

She froze. What is going on?

The Wind had never failed to come on beckoning before. What hadn't she done? Panic settled in, her eyes darted around and cold sweat broke out. Enlil needed help; he needed distraction to escape. She gripped her fist, almost tugging at the Wind's energy.

It gave a little but then returned to its natural flow. Nothing happened.

"Are you injured, sir?" said one of the soldiers, breaking her concentration. Sounds of struggle and grunting filled the air before a thump silenced it all. She could make out Enlil's slumped figure, his head hanging an inch from the ground.

"Nothing major," said the minister, rubbing his chin with a glower and staring with venom down at the unconscious boy. He spat down at his feet. Tia bit her lip, still hidden among the boxes. "You got the brat?"

"Got him good, sir."

"Good. Throw him in the cells. I shall deal with him on the morrow."

"Very good, sir."

"Stupid slave." Tia heard the triumph in the minister's loud proclamation as the party moved away from her hiding place. The voices began to fade. "How could he have thought that he could tell a minister what to do?"

Do not be foolish, Tia repeated to herself, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles went white and her nails dug painfully into the palms of her hands. You cannot help him right now. Leave and come back. Move!

She forced her legs to do as bid. She couldn't risk arrest and incarceration as well, not when Enlil needed her help.

"Enlil, you idiot," she said to nobody in particular. "Why could you not have just left things be?"

Because things shouldn't be this way, a small voice answered in her head.

She brushed her chestnut hair out of her eyes, her thoughts flying in a flurry in her mind. What should she do? Where was Mommu when she needed him?

By the time she returned the white robes and re-joined the other trainees, she had made up her mind.