Prologue

Market Street was a cacophony of sound, a wondrous mélange of humanity. Street sellers hawking their wares, townspeople bustling from stall to stall, and young street urchins gaily chasing each other down the street - Raehl drew it all in with every excited breath. The smell of the dust, the uncontrolled throng of people, the feeling of freedom: she thoroughly enjoyed the extreme contrast to her normal, overprotected life back home. In all of her 15 years, nothing had ever felt quite so good, or quite so free, as a trip to Market Street.

Looking over her shoulder, Raehl saw the elderly form of old Minna, her caretaker, hunched over a basket of fresh baked bread. Placing several of the warm loaves in a worn burlap sack, the old woman's practiced eye searched out and quickly found the errant young girl slowly edging toward the next stall. Flaming hells, is that woman ever going to get distracted? Raehl dejectedly thought as she turned her attention back to the shelf of multicolored scarves she had been riffling through heedlessly.

Minna had faithfully served the Arkannis family since the beginning of time, or so it seemed to young Raehl Arkannis. The old woman had been Raehl's nursemaid as a child, her tutor as a preteen, and was now apparently determined to be her jailor as a young woman. The old woman's stooped form reaching perhaps five foot at the most; her aged visage seemed to carry more wrinkles than skin. As old as her body was, however, Minna's bright eyes were far too sharp for Raehl's liking, and it was always surprising how quickly that seemingly decrepit old body could actually move. Rarely could she escape the constant watch placed upon her each time they left the family manor to go out into the city proper.

If only Father had time for me, she thought. He never pays attention to me anymore. All he ever does is work in that damned study all day, and fight with the rest of the Council all night; I just wish he would remember that I even exist. What in the Hells can he be up to in that old study of his, anyway? Muttering on about 'breaking through the barrier' and other such nonsense...

Suddenly, Minna's frail voice cut through her wandering thoughts. "You might be wantin' to take a closer look ta' some of them scarves, Miss. That green one yer holdin' brings out yer eyes; and it bein' two years past yer' womanhood, ya might be needin' a bit of spicin' up."

"Damn it Minna, you know my thoughts on marriage! Haven't you heard me fight with Father enough times?" The last idiot he brought home to dinner was a joke. The fool was too busy staring at places he aught not to have been to notice my unconcealed boredom with his feeble conversation. Hells, it couldn't have been more obvious that he wasn't after me for my intellectual skills! Old money or not, mageborn or not, I refuse to marry some buffoon simply to satisfy Father!

"Yes my lady, an' how could I forget? You do know yer father is just wantin' the best fer ya though, don't ya? Ever since your sweet mother passed..." Her usually bright eyes dimming with regret, the old woman's voice trailed off.

With a sigh, Raehl turned back to the scarves. "Yes Minna, I know. Power and opportunity... I just wish he would take the time to find out what I think is the best for me."

"Well, you just keep a lookin' around here. Shoppin's always fun. Don't let old Minna get ya down, Miss. Jest don't ye' be thinkin' o' takin' off on me agin, though. This here ain't been the safest o' places, nowadays."

"Yes, Minna..."

"And ye' best be watchin' yer language there young lady. Where 'ave ye been pickin' up such words? Yer' poor father'd be in a fine fettle indeed if ye let 'im hear ye sayin' such things."

"Yes, Minna..." If I did, maybe he would actually notice me...

Casually tossing the scarf back on the shelf, Raehl wandered over to the next table. Picking up a simple charm, she idly fingered the runes, working the spell out in her mind. Her father had always told her to practice the lessons given her in magic, as the human mind's tendency to reject runes of power could only be overcome through use. The silver bracelet in her hand seemed to contain a simple love illusion spell. This type of trinket was fairly common among the townspeople, as this type of spell required only the simplest of the runes. Creating the illusion of love was easy enough magic, but the stuff done by her father, the stuff he had so far refused her requests to learn...

Casting another sneaky glance over her shoulder, she saw Minna involved in an energetic discussion with the fruit seller on the next stall. Her opportunity had come. She hastily put down the trinket and slinked into the throng pressing through the street. Freedom was hers!

Finally rid of her jailor, Raehl noticed a group of children laughing as they freely ran down the street in search of fun. Following them, she wondered what it would be like to be free to come and go as she pleased, free to have simple fun. Even as a child, she had never been able to play like this. If only she had not been born to a house with such heavy responsibilities; if only she could be free to live her life as she chose; if only... Lost in her thoughts, she idly followed the children on down the street.

Eventually Raehl found herself in a portion of Market Street she had never seen before. She wasn't quite sure when the hawking of the street sellers had been replaced by hushed tones. She was suddenly startled from her thoughts by sound of raucous laughter bursting forth from a tavern door. She watched as a man quite obviously deep in his cups was casually tossed out into the street. Cursing over his shoulder at the offending bouncer, the inebriated man stumbled off to find entertainment elsewhere.

Momentarily distracted by the drunk, Raehl had failed to notice when the children had taken off again. As she nervously glanced around for them, or in fact anything slightly familiar, she noticed the short, thick form of a man detaching itself from the shadows behind the tavern.

"Raehl, Raehl, what sweet turn of lady fortune has brought you all the way out here?"

Fear began to creep into her mind as she recognized the voice. Stuart Haelman, apprenticed to her father's worst enemy on the Council, was a braggart and a bully. Lacking the mental control to use the higher runes, he was forced to rely on somewhat more mundane means of getting his way, usually at somebody else's expense.

About a year beforehand, at the High Solstice celebration, Stuart had informed Raehl that they would dance. Even if he had asked politely, there would have been no way that she would have let that creep place his hands upon her person. However, she might have been more inclined to let him down easily. Simply assuming that she would do as she was told... Raehl still fondly remembered the way his face had turned a bright shade of red after she had so loudly rejected him. How she had enjoyed her little victory at the time! Now, however, she questioned her wisdom at provoking him.

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