“I didn’t weave anything. Just froze it for a while.”
Any decently powerful mage could pause time, in theory, but only a Timeweaver could wind it back—or forward.
Aspar’s eyes narrowed. “I gather that you yourself were not frozen, given that you glitched from one side of the temple to the other inside a single second.”
So they couldn’t see what she’d been doing while time was paused. “No, I wasn’t frozen.”
“Yetpraegelosis supposed to freezeeverything.Caster included.”
Was that right? It had been twenty years since Saffron’s mother had spoken about using it. But sure enough, the way she’d phrased it … it bought herthinkingspace. Not actual space.
Was Mellora frozen too, with only her thoughts left spinning?
“Maybe I cast it wrong,” Saff said evenly, though her palms were sweating.
Aspar leaned forward in her chair, steepling her fingers on the desk. “Cadet Marriosan’s levitation potion didn’t work on you either.”
“She must have brewed it inaccurately.”
“Auria Marriosan has never brewed anything inaccurately in her life.”
“You’ve obviously never tried her tea,” Saff quipped, but there was an unspooling feeling in her stomach.
A strange pause. “Did you know that we have a Compeller in our midst?”
Aspar’s words were a taut murmur, a precise side step.
At this, Saffron blinked in surprise. “A cadet?”
A stony nod. “One of your peers has been given a false accreditation to protect their true identity. It’ll be extremely useful for undercover work.”
Saffron’s mind reeled. Who could it be? Sunny, bookish Auria? Surely not. Bumbling, awkward Tiernan? Nissa, the smoldering enigma with the wicked tongue? Brave, albeit brutish, Sebran, with the mysterious background? Gaian, with his quiet confidence, his keen intellect?
Nissa’s wielding was so strong that she couldn’t possibly be a Compeller too. And Tiernan had been struck down so early that he seemed an unlikely candidate. Auria … they’d stuck together the whole time. She’d had no need to attempt to compel Saff. And she already had three classes of magic. A fourth would be almost unprecedented.
That left Sebran and Gaian—the two cadets most hell-bent on the Pons Aelii undercover posting. Surely Gaian wouldn’t have lost to Saffron at cards so often if he’d been capable of compelling her into losing. Then again, would he risk exposing such a rare gift for the sake of a game of polderdash?
And Sebran … well. Nobody knew very much about Sebran at all.
“The Compeller was ordered to compel each and every one of you in a different way,” explained Aspar. “And yet despite their efforts, you did not bend to their will. In fact, I’m not sure their will even registered upon you at all.”
Saints.
“And you know, it’s funny,” the captain continued. “Because I could’ve sworn I saw aneffigiasenchantment strike you in that chamber.”
“It grazed past me,” Saffron said weakly, draining the last of her coffee.
“You forgot to continue your little mime, you know.” Aspar rose to her feet, smoothing down her long silver robes. The velvine pattered to the ground, then stalked up the windowsill and leapt out the narrow crack. “The frozen leg became remarkably unfrozen around the time the Bloodmoons started closing in on you. You usedet esilanto make your boots spring, and landed rather too spryly for someone with a single working foot.”
Saffron didn’t know what to say to that. She knew she was caught.
“You know what’s remarkable, Killoran?” The captain crossed around the desk, footsteps clipped and smooth on the tiles, and resteda palm on Saff’s forearm. “I laced that coffee with enough truth elixir to make even the hardiest of Bloodmoons sing.”
With a soft swiping motion, she pulled the fabric of Saffron’s white cloak all the way up to the shoulder, revealing the unmistakable starburst imprint of a spell that had met its mark.
“And yet every single word out of your mouth has been a lie.”
DREAD CIRCLED IN SAFFRON’S STOMACH LIKE WATER AROUNDa drain.