something unseen. Maxim began wailing, and held hands up to his face and curled into a ball.
‘That’s enough!’ shouted Steiner. Khigir remained silent, but edged away from Shirinov, who continued to tighten his arcane grip on Maxim.
‘It will be enough when I say it’s enough,’ replied the Vigilant. ‘Is it not like the grip of the Empire? Absolute in every way.’
‘I said that’s enough,’ bellowed Steiner. He pulled the sledgehammer free of the bag and swung it in a broad arc. Steiner felt the heat of all his anger, his frustration, his disappointment, all joined in the surging motion of the attack. The sledgehammer caught the Vigilant in the side of his chest, but not before Shirinov raised a hand to ward off the blow. Steiner felt the resistance, noticed the hammer slow before it took Shirinov from his feet, lifting him into the air. The hunched Vigilant staggered and collapsed amid the newcomers, who scattered to all corners of the square. The walking stick clattered on the flagstones as Maxim landed face down on the cobbles with a grunt. The boy did not move and a terrible hush settled over everyone, all eyes turning to Steiner, Shirinov, and the crumpled form of Maxim.
For a moment the only motion in the square was the flickering of flames. It seemed to Steiner that the dragon who stood above them was not wreathed in flames, but contained by them instead. Smaller flames continued to dance around Khigir’s feet and the frowning mask moved side to side in a slow shake.
‘Steiner. What have you done?’
The soldiers burst forward, raising their maces. Steiner stood his ground, grasping the hammer defiantly, but it was not the soldiers with their helms and red stars that concerned him. Shirinov dragged himself to his feet, hands pressed to his ribs. The silver mask lifted and the smile on its lips had never been crueller, a trickle of blood leaking from one corner.
‘I’m going to enjoy destroying you,’ said the Vigilant. He reached out again, a tender gesture at odds with the intended result. Steiner glanced down, rewarded with the sight of solid ground beneath his boots.
‘What is this?’ The Vigilant reached forth with both hands, fingers splayed, shaking with effort. Steiner felt the power brush against him, no more than a harsh breeze. He was unsure why he resisted Shirinov’s power but was grateful all the same. The Vigilant stumbled, as if buffeted by the wind. Shirinov took a moment to retrieve his walking stick before lifting his hand once more. This time the gesture was a command, not a summoning of power.
‘Take him,’ he said. The soldiers behind Steiner drew close and raised their maces. Steiner hefted the sledgehammer in response, knowing he’d be lucky to take just one of them before they beat him to the ground.
‘Stand down!’ The words were a thunderclap across the square and the soldiers fell back two steps and stood to attention. Steiner turned to find another Vigilant descending the steps of one the larger buildings. Other Vigilants followed in her wake, including one wearing a mask like a wolf’s face, but it was clear who was in charge. The many novices bowed their heads and Khigir and Shirinov stood to attention. A single word rushed around the square, an awed susurrus:
Felgenhauer.
The Vigilant wore a mask the colour of drab stone, all features angular, neither masculine nor feminine. The mouth was a displeased slash and the eyes that stared through the holes bore many questions.
‘What is going on here?’ said the Vigilant.
‘The boy struck me with the hammer,’ muttered Shirinov.
‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ There was a softness to the voice despite the anger. The person behind the angular mask was a woman. She was perhaps an inch or two taller than Steiner, with a long-limbed, rangy physique. ‘I asked you a question, boy.’
‘The Vigilant was crushing that boy to death.’ He pointed at Maxim, still splayed across the cobbles. ‘I tried to stop him.’
The woman crossed to the unmoving boy and removed a thick leather glove before feeling for a pulse. Her shoulders slumped and Steiner could hear her sigh even with the mask on.
‘Is he dead?’ asked Steiner, but the Vigilant didn’t answer. She stood slowly, collecting herself, then raised her voice.
‘I am Matriarch-Commissar Felgenhauer. While you are on this island you will obey my commands. You will anticipate my commands. You will comport yourselves in a manner befitting an Imperial Vigilant.’ She crossed a few steps to Shirinov and looked over his shoulder at the novices behind him.
‘From the lowliest newcomer, to the thorniest Ordinary or most hallowed Exarch.’ She leaned closer to Shirinov. ‘You will behave like servants of the Empire. Do you understand?’
All present in the square nodded except Shirinov.
‘Do you understand?’ said Felgenhauer, her voice quiet, but no less threatening for the lack of volume.
Shirinov bowed his head. ‘Of course, Matriarch-Commissar.’
Felgenhauer turned her attention back to Maxim.
‘And what exactly did this child do to threaten our continued existence?’ Maxim had never looked smaller as Felgenhauer stood over him. Steiner wanted to rush to the boy’s side and see if he still breathed.
‘He spoke out,’ mumbled Shirinov. ‘He accused me of being wrong.’
‘Wrong?’ said Felgenhauer ‘Wrong how, exactly?’
‘He said the hammer-wielder doesn’t have witchsign.’
‘Is it true?’ asked Felgenhauer, her voice loaded with indignation.
‘Of course it’s not true.’ Shirinov’s chin lifted and his hands clenched into fists. ‘I’ve conducted scores of Invigilations and never been wrong.’
Felgenhauer turned her back to him, her angular mask intimidating as the firelight gleamed and shone from its edges.
‘Do you have a name, boy?’
‘Steiner.’
Felgenhauer paused, as if her line of thought had been broken by that single word.
‘And where do you hail from, Steiner?’
‘Cinderfell,’ he replied. The Matriarch-Commissar took a moment to compose her next question, then cleared her throat instead. Steiner felt the intensity of her gaze and set his eyes straight ahead. The Matriarch-Commissar circled him, much as Shirinov had done in the school square.
‘The Solmindre Empire preach that witchsign is a taint, something to be feared, something to be despised.’ Her voice was loud enough to carry to every corner of the square and all the novices and students listened intently, wearing expressions of awe.
‘We do this so the people will gladly give over their children, we do this so people are glad to be rid of them. To be rid of you. In truth the Empire would be nothing without witchsign.’
She had circled behind Steiner now, yet he could feel the weight of her regard upon him, a tangible force upon his shoulders.
‘Witchsign is power, but all power comes at a cost, as you will find out in the days, months and years ahead.
