I smiled a little. It sounded like I was Vegard’s pride and joy, too.

I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes again. “Then why are we sitting out here?”

Vegard didn’t have an answer for that one.

I did. I’d just magically cut loose in a packed city square, and I was related to the most notorious criminal family in the seven kingdoms. It probably didn’t matter that I was just trying to help. Someone had paid Banan Ryce a lot of money to kill Mychael and the archmagus. Someone who didn’t get what he paid for. And that kidnapped girl was in the worst kind of danger. My mind kept going over what had happened in that courtyard. And I kept telling myself that I never had a clear shot at Banan. Telling myself that didn’t make it any easier to take. When I heard the office door open, I didn’t want to open my eyes and look, but I thought it might be a good idea if I did.

Mychael Eiliesor was standing in the open doorway. He looked pissed. I wasn’t particularly cheerful, either.

Mychael’s hair was rich auburn, his features strong and classically handsome, and his eyes were tropical-seas stunning—and lock-up-your-daughters-and-wives trouble. The outer package was gorgeous; the man inside was dangerous. You didn’t get to be commander of the Conclave Guardians by being any other way.

He looked at my dust-covered self, and then at Vegard.

“Vegard, you’re dismissed. You’re off duty until the evening watch. Get some rest; you’ve earned it.”

I didn’t ask what I’d earned. I’d be finding out soon enough.

Vegard saluted his commander and left. I stood up. I was stiff and achy, but I got there.

“Are you hurt?” Mychael asked.

I shook my head, and managed a weak grin. “But that stage sure was heavy.”

Mychael’s eyes were unreadable. “Yes, it was.”

“I take it the archmagus wants to see me now.” I didn’t ask it as a question.