The mercenaries were camped in a clearing close to where she had expected to find them, their presence disclosed by a tendril of smoke rising in the still air. Mikey was sitting on a stone, hunched and rocking over his knees. Watching him, Irenya asked herself how long she could endure his misery before the temptation to intervene proved too strong. It was a miracle that he’d survived the teenage years, his personality deformed by his undiscovered, unused talent. Without the office of MageGate to fulfil, the cyclonic nature of his Gift would rip him apart. She lay awake half the night, in dispute with the lumpy ground. If she could just get Mikey into the air …
Months ago in Tire, she had rescued him, but then the adversaries had numbered only two. This time there were five, including an
