Zephyr Alterian balanced on the edge of the roof, knowing her next move would determine her future. If she tried to jump the span, she’d miss and the guards below would have her. If she swung down to the window below, the result was the same. So, she did the only thing a young, naïve trainee would do. She sang a discordant bar to confuse her pursuers, turned and tumbled between their legs, hoping against hope she was quicker than them.

She was. By a mere quaver. A hand brushed her ankle as she rolled through. Gaining her feet, she dashed and took a leap of faith into the branches of the nearest tree, three paces from the roof’s edge. By some miracle, she grabbed and held a branch large enough to hold her slight frame. She swung onto a larger limb, scrambled down, darting toward a hedgerow in which she’d hollowed out a space to hide. As long as they didn’t bring out the sniffers, she could wait until the hubbub died down.

Temore shined on her that night. Not only had she left the note that Master Trainer Saranth bade her leave on the bedside stand, she managed the additional prize he’d set before her. She patted the plain dagger, humming with power that hung at her side. And the mark never had a clue.

“You took longer than expected,” said Saranth when she arrived back at the training hall.

“I waited for the noise to calm before moving from my hiding place,” she replied.

Saranth looked across the desk at her, eyebrow arched.

“They saw me as I ran the roof, so I took a leap of faith and the goddess smiled on me.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You have the prize?”

She pulled the dagger from her belt, tossing it on the table. It slid, hilt first, to his hand. He snatched the hand back, as if the weapon caused pain. He gave her a sharp look.

“What did you do to it?”

“Me? Nothing. I took the dagger and stuck it in my belt.”

“Didn’t it shock you?”

“What? No. It vibrates with power, but nothing else.”

He looked down at the dagger, studying it. Tapping a forefinger to his lips, he took on that contemplative look Zephyr hated.

“Take this to Dreyah,” he said. “Tell her I need to know what this is.”

“Very well, sir,” she said, tucking it back in her belt.

A quarter glass later, she tracked down another of her cousins, Dreyah, a powerful mage. Dreyah had spent her early years adventuring, as had more than half the family, it seemed.

“Zeph!” Dreyah looked up from her book. “What brings you to my domain?”

“Master Saranth,” Zephyr replied. “He wants to know what this is and why it doesn’t like him.” She pulled the dagger from her belt.

Dreyah took it from her, eyes opening wide.

“Magic.”

“Yes, it is. And it didn’t like Master Saranth, he said it shocked him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I slid it to him hilt first, when he reached for it something happened because he dropped it like it stung his hand.”

“Huh,” said Dreyah, turning the dagger over in her hand. She finally set it on her worktable. “I already know it’s magic, let’s see what kind.” She looked through the bottles on the shelf in front of her and pulled out a feather and a small gem. Then began the ritual to identify the magic imbued in the weapon.

“Interesting,” murmured Dreyah. “I haven’t seen one of these in years.”

“Care to share with those of us less enlightened?” asked Zephyr.

“Yeah, sorry,” Dreyah came back to herself. “Speak a command word and poison coats the blade. One that has no known antidote that I know of. I’ll give this over to Samyl, our alchemist. He should be able to tell what it is exactly. I’ll send a message to the training master to let him know I sent it along.”

“Thanks, Drey.”

Two days later, having satisfied the guildmaster, Zephyr posed as a traveling minstrel on her way to the City of Nabar. Though Guild Master Kathenlik gave her no direct orders, she was sure she’d hear from the House Alterian Spymaster… soon or late.