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d exquisite ankles。
Grown into a man。
She collected her thoughts and started off again； down the halls and stairs。 As she descended； the wooden stairs changed to stone。 The heat lessened； although not the stuffiness； or the smell of the tide flats。 The warm glow of lamps was replaced by the flickering shadows of widely spaced torches。 The cowering palace staff diminished in number until she saw no one。 She continued down to the lowest floors； below dusty storerooms； down below the servants’ quarters and workshops。 The torches became more widely spaced until there were no more。 She ignited a ball of flame in her palm； and held it up to see by as she continued on。
When she reached the proper door； she sent the flame into a cold torch set in a bracket next to the doorway。 The stonewalled room was small； an abandoned cellar of some sort； empty except for moldy straw on the floor； a lit torch； and the two wizards。 The smell was unpleasant： burning pitch and damp mold。
At her entrance； the two stood； swaying slightly。 Both wore the plain robes befitting their high rank。 Each had a stupid half grin on his face。 They weren’t cocky； she realized； they had been drinking。 Probably celebrating their last night in the Palace of the Prophets。 Their last night with the Sisters of the Light。 Their last night wearing the Rada’Han。
The two men had been friends since they had been brought to the palace as boys； almost at the same time。 Sam Weber was a plain man of average height； with curly； light brown hair and a clean…shaven jaw that seemed too big for the rest of his soft face。 Neville Ranson was slightly taller； with straight black hair cut short and smoothed neatly down。 He wore a short； well…kept beard that was just beginning to show flecks of gray。 His eyes were almost as dark as his hair。 His features seemed all the more sharply formed； standing next to his soft friend。
She had always thought he had grown into a handsome man。 She had known him since he had e to the palace as a small boy。 She had been a novice then； and he had been the one assigned to her； put in her care； her final test before being a Sister of the Light。 That had been a long time ago。
Wizard Ranson swept his arm across his middle and gave a dramatic； although wobbly； bow。 He came back up with a widening grin。 His grin always made his face look boyish； despite his years and the beginnings of gray。
‘A good evening to you； Sister 。。。’
Hard as she could； she backhanded him across the face with her rod。 She could feel his cheekbone break。 He fell back to the floor with a cry。
‘I have told you before；’ she hissed through gritted teeth； ‘never to use my name when we are alone。 Being drunk does not excuse the order。’
Wizard Weber stood stone still； his eyes wide； his face white； his grin gone。 Ranson rolled over on the ground with his hands to his face； leaving blood on the straw。
The color came back to Weber’s face in a red rush。 ‘How dare you do this？ We have passed all the tests！ We are wizards！’
She sent a cord of power into the Rada’Han。 The impact threw him back against the wall； where the collar stuck to the stone like a nail to a magnet。 ‘Passed the tests！’ she screamed。 ‘Passed the tests！ You have not passed my tests！’ She twisted on the pain until Weber was choking in agony。 ‘Is this how you address a Sister！ Is this the way you show respect！’
She snipped off the cord and he fell to the floor； grunting when he hit。 He pushed himself up on his knees with an effort。
‘Forgive me； Sister；’ he said in a pained； hoarse voice。 ‘I beg you forgive our disrespect。’ His eyes rose cautiously to meet her glare。 ‘It was only the drink speaking。 Forgive us？ Please？’
With her fists on her hips； she stood watching him。 She pointed with the rod at the one rolling and moaning on the floor。 ‘Heal him。 I don’t have time for this nonsense。 I have e to give you both your test； not to watch him whine and plain about a little slap。’
Weber bent to his friend； rolling him gently over on his back。 ‘Neville； it’s all right。 I’ll help you。 Lie still。’
He took the man’s shaking hands away and replaced them with his own。 He began talking and healing。 She waited impatiently with her arms folded。 It didn’t take long； Weber was talented at healing。 Weber helped his friend sit up and； with a handful of straw； wiped the blood from the healed wound。
Ranson pushed himself to his feet。 His eyes flashed anger； but he kept any speck of it out of his voice。 ‘Forgive me； Sister。 What is it you want？’
Weber came up beside him。 ‘Please； Sister； we have done everything the Sisters have asked。 We are finished。’
‘Finished？ Finished？ I don’t think so。 Have you forgotten our talks？ Have you forgotten what I told you？ Did you think I would forget？ Simply let the two of you dance out of here？ Free as birds？ No man walks out of here without seeing me or one of mine。 There is the matter of an oath。’
The two glanced at each other； retreating a half step。
‘If you will just let us go；’ Weber offered； ‘we will give you our oath。’
She watched them a moment； her voice ing quietly at last。 ‘My oath？ It is not an oath to me； boys。 It is an oath to the Keeper。 You know that。’ They both paled a little。 ‘And the oath es only after one of you has passed the test。 Only one of you has to give the oath。’
‘One of us？’ Ranson asked。 He swallowed。 ‘Only one of us has to give the oath； Sister？ Why only one of us？’
‘Because；’ she whispered； ‘the other will have no need to give an oath。 He is going to die。’
They both gasped and moved closer together。
‘What is this test？’ Weber asked。
Take off your robes； and we will begin。’
They glanced at each other。 Ranson lifted his hand a little。 ‘Our robes； Sister？ Now？ Here？’
She looked to each。 ‘Don’t be bashful； boys。 I have seen you both swim naked in the lake since you were only this big。’ She held her hand out just below her waist。
‘But that was when we were boys；’ Weber plained。 ‘Not since we have grown into men。’
She glowered at them。 ‘Don’t make me have to tell you again。 The next time； I will burn them off you。’
They both flinched and began pulling their robes over their heads。 She made a deliberate point of looking each up and down； just to show them her displeasure with their argument。 Each man’s face turned red in the torchlight。
With a flick of her wrist； she brought her knife to her hand。 ‘Up against the wall。 Both of you。’
When they didn’t move quickly enough； she used the collars to slam them against the wall。 With a thin stream of power to each Rada’Han； she immobilized them against the stone。 They were flattened against the wall and helpless to lift a finger。
‘Please； Sister；’ Ranson whispered； ‘don’t kill us。 We’ll do anything。 Anything。’
Her cold gaze settled on his dark eyes。 ‘Yes； you will。 One of you anyway。 But we haven’t gotten to the oath yet。 Now still your tongue or I will do it for you。’
As the two were held helpless； she move