Author/Uploaded by Davis Bunn
Contents Cover Also by Davis Bunn Title Page Copyright Dedication Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixtee...
Contents Cover Also by Davis Bunn Title Page Copyright Dedication Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Chapter Forty-Seven Chapter Forty-Eight Chapter Forty-Nine Chapter Fifty Chapter Fifty-One Chapter Fifty-Two Chapter Fifty-Three Chapter Fifty-Four Chapter Fifty-Five Chapter Fifty-Six Chapter Fifty-Seven Chapter Fifty-Eight Chapter Fifty-Nine Chapter Sixty Chapter Sixty-One FORBIDDEN Davis Bunn Also by Davis Bunn Speculative fiction BURDEN OF PROOF PRIME DIRECTIVE ISLAND OF TIME Novels THE GREAT DIVIDE WINNER TAKE ALL HEARTLAND LION OF BABYLON UNSCRIPTED Miramar Bay series MIRAMAR BAY FIREFLY COVE MOONDUST LAKE TRANQUILITY FALLS THE COTTAGE ON LIGHTHOUSE LANE Published under the Pen Name Thomas Locke TRIAL RUN FLASH POINT FAULT LINES EMISSARY MERCHANTOF ALYSS THE GOLDEN VIAL RECRUITS RENEGADES ENCLAVE This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. First world edition published in Great Britain and the USA in 2023 by Severn House, an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd, 14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE. Trade paperback edition first published in Great Britain and the USA in 2023 by Severn House, an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd. This eBook edition first published in 2023 by Severn House, an imprint of Canongate Books Ltd. severnhouse.com Copyright © Davis Bunn, 2023 All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The right of Davis Bunn to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library. ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-0941-2 (cased) ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1011-1 (trade paper) ISBN-13: 978-1-4483-1010-4 (e-book) This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental. This eBook produced by Palimpsest Book Production Limited, Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland This book is dedicated to Emily Gottlich Keeper of the flame ONE The day was perfect. The timing, the empty audience hall, everything about it was exactly as he had planned, as he had imagined. Chad tried to tell himself there was no reason to feel so sad. After all, he had been planning this moment for almost two years. It helped. Some. Not a lot. Because his sorrow had little to do with his own state. Or the fact that he was creating a diversion so he could escape. Finally. The Sardinian Institute’s audience hall was a chamber so vast some first-time visitors often suffered from vertigo. Sunlight through stained-glass windows created a silent melody as clouds passed over the sun. It was a lovely place, with the blue ceiling and the swirling gulls magically carving the sky. But Chad’s years as an acolyte had revealed the truth. This beauty was a mask. A means of hiding the dark currents, the self-indulgent and willfully blind Masters. Chad despised them all. He reached into his backpack and extracted the first plastic pouch, the one he had hidden away for almost two years. Waiting and planning and studying and preparing. For this moment. He whispered the spell as he opened the pouch, and instantly she was there with him. A sorrowful agony threatened to overwhelm him. Chad’s best and only friend. Lost to the dark whims of the mage he despised most of all. The audience hall was his for at least another twenty minutes. Then the acolytes would gather for the weekly parade of snobbish Talents. A Master would stand at the lectern and dictate the students’ duties and assignments. Chad was supposed to be with them. But the previous evening he had entered the infirmary with a magically inspired fever. His golem now slumbered peacefully in the hospital bed. Chad wove his spell around the ribbon his dead friend had worn in her hair the night she committed suicide. The force gathered into a swirling mist of tearful regret, until the lovely young woman took full form. When it was time, he wished her yet another broken farewell. Done in secret both times, for the entire matter had been instantly hushed up. The acolytes ordered never to mention her name. The Institute pretending it had never happened. Forgotten. Dismissed. Until now. Chad lifted her golem higher and higher, until her lifeless corpse swung from a noose. One suspended from the audience hall’s central rafter. He pulled the knife from his pack and cut his middle finger. Not deep. All he needed was a drop of his blood. Enough to begin the second spell, drawing it out and growing it into a vast red cloud. One that he flung against the side wall. Letters as tall as he was. Serge did this to me. When he was done, Chad hesitated. The moment had been so long in coming, the way so hard, he felt anchored to the