The Tainted City by Courtney Schafer

said, “So if Ruslan breaks Sechaveh’s edict of protection, no more confluence for Ruslan. But he can cast spells without it, right?” The lack of the confluence certainly hadn’t stopped him from casting against us in the Whitefires.
    “True,” Martennan said. “But much of blood magic’s power lies in its ability to harness the forces of the confluence. Without its aid in his spellcasting, and with a group of us working together to counter him, we have every chance of defending against Ruslan.”
    “How many mages are you bringing on this little mission?” I asked.
    “Not so many from Tamanath,” Martennan said. “Only myself, my two lieutenants—Lenarimanas and Talmaddis, you know them both—and an arcanist. But once in Ninavel, we’ll have assistance in spellwork from the mages already stationed at the embassy.”
    “I’ve never understood how so many of you can mesh minds so closely.” A hint of wistfulness lurked in Kiran’s tone.
    Martennan didn’t miss it. “If we succeed in Ninavel, I hope to sway the Council to ease their restrictions on you. The moment they do, I’ll be happy to teach you our style of magic.”
    Kiran looked like a man dying of thirst who’d been offered a waterskin. My hands twitched with the urge to strangle Martennan. It’d be a bright day in Shaikar’s hells before the Council decided to trust a former blood mage, if the way they treated him now was anything to go by. But arguing that point wouldn’t help anything.
    Kiran’s spine straightened, and stubborn determination replaced the yearning. “Even if you can counter Ruslan, my condition stands: either remove my binding, or I won’t go.”
    I raised a silent cheer for him, even as I bit back the words that wanted to burst free: I’ll go even if Kiran doesn’t. Time enough to try again for a solo deal with Martennan if the Council refused to take their spell off Kiran.
    Martennan tapped his fingers on the chair back, his black eyes gone as opaque as onyx. At last he said, “I fear the Council would refuse any request to release your binding before we leave Alathia, but I may be able to persuade them to authorize our embassy in Ninavel to perform the ritual.”
    I grunted in disgust. “So you’d leave Kiran helpless for weeks while we cross the Whitefires? Come on, Martennan. Ruslan’s not going to wait for us to reach Ninavel before he casts.”
    “We won’t be crossing the Whitefires,” Martennan said. “The situation is too urgent to waste weeks traveling through the mountains.”
    I stared. “Then, how…?”
    “You intend to cast a translocation spell? For a distance of that magnitude?” Kiran was goggling at Martennan like that was as crazy as us growing wings and flying to Ninavel.
    “Yes.” Martennan didn’t so much as blink.
    “But…the power required would be incredible! And the border wards! How could your spell penetrate a barrier so strong—” Shock flared in Kiran’s eyes, his head rocking back. “The wards…you’re going to release them, and draw on their source to cast the translocation spell?”
    “You’ll understand if I can’t discuss the particulars of our spellcasting.” The sudden impassivity of Martennan’s face was an answer in itself. My own jaw dropped.
    “ Release the wards?” I demanded. “Did the entire Council eat staggerweed by mistake? How is that a good idea?”
    Kiran added, “Even if you intend to rebuild the wards immediately after casting your spell, you must realize a few moments of opportunity are all Ruslan needs to destroy your defenses beyond repair. How do you know this isn’t what he’s been waiting for all along?”
    Martennan said, “Whatever the risks involved in our methods, be assured they’ve been carefully weighed, and steps taken to ensure Alathia’s safety.”
    I chewed my lip. If the border was unwarded for only a few moments, then yeah, I could think of a host of ways the Alathians could use their people in Ninavel to make