Nothing good ever came from magic,” muttered Nathaniel Rane as the Legion of Swords walked down the stairs into darkness. “We should be on the battlements. What if the Rastaks attack?” “Trust the Lord General, brother,” hissed Marcus Shaw from behind him. “I crossed half of the five nations to bring the mage here. Lord Jefferson wouldn’t risk everything now if he wasn’t our only hope of winning the war.” “But there’s a reason magic is illegal, why mages are executed.” “What do laws matter if we are all dead tomorrow? We have no choice, Nathaniel. We have to do this.”
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