Of the Abyss Read Online Free Page A

her.
    â€œIt is,” Hansa answered. She couldn’t think of him as Lieutenant Viridian. They might have been the same age, and he must have been good in his field to have achieved the rank he had, but guards in the 126 always seemed young to her. It was the idealism, she supposed. “If you wish to refuse, I understand.”
    She shook her head. “If he has asked for counsel, he has the right to it.” She meant the words, even though the concept of trying to provide guidance and solace to a sorcerer chilled her.
    â€œHansa will keep you safe,” Pearl chimed in, her tone nervous and her mismatched blue and green eyes trained on Hansa as she added firmly, “Right?”
    Hansa ruffled the girl’s hair and gave her a tired smile, saying, “That’s my job.” To Cadmia, he added, “He has been disarmed and branded. I cannot guarantee he is harmless, but he is powerless.”
    Without his magic, he should be no more dangerous than many men she had counseled. Drunkards, abusers, murderers, thieves; Kavet’s laws gave them the right to be heard.
    â€œLead the way, Lieutenant,” she said. “Pearl, thank you for bringing Lieutenant Viridian to me.” The novices and other initiates all knew to funnel requests from criminals and other disreputable sorts to her, but Cadmia was impressed that Pearl had been astute enough to bring Hansa to her and not to Marigold.
    Pearl nodded, ducking her head shyly.
    Without delay, Cadmia followed Hansa across the street and into the Quinacridone Compound, wondering why a mancer had asked for a representative from the Napthol. Maybe he was just trying to stall his execution by a few minutes, but maybe he genuinely wanted forgiveness. Maybe he wanted to tell them something.
    Though she had been to the sections of the Compound that served as Kavet’s main government building many times, she had never taken the rough stone staircase that led downward to a row of cells, evidence of the building’s darker past.
    â€œWhy keep such a dangerous prisoner so close to the President?” she asked. Winsor Indathrone’s living quarters were upstairs in this building.
    â€œThe cells are warded,” Hansa explained. His voice dropped, as if he knew from experience that the stone walls would make his words echo unpleasantly. “They dampen a mancer’s power. The forge we use to create the brands is built into the wall down here, too. It can’t be moved.”
    â€œHow does the warding work?”
    Hansa glanced back and gave her a puzzled look, as if wondering why she asked. “We don’t know,” he said. “We think the royal house must have had some connection to sorcery before the revolution—­some say they were in charge of controlling it, but others say they were overthrown partly because they were enabling it. Either way, the tools they left behind are the only ones we have.”
    Cadmia shook her head, making a mental note to see if she could find more information. She was highly enough ranked in the Order that it seemed like she should have heard of these indispensable tools before now; that she hadn’t might just mean the information wasn’t widely shared, but she feared it could mean there was no more knowledge to be had.
    Quin in general weren’t encouraged to ask questions, and soldiers in the 126 were given only the information they needed to do their jobs and warned that too much curiosity into the nature of magic could put them in danger of becoming the sorcerers they hunted. If they ever had trouble with the indispensable tools they needed for that hunt—­these cells, the brands, and the poison used to apprehend mancers—­they would come to the Order of the Napthol for help. If at that time no one had the answers, it could spell disaster.
    At the base of the stairs, the hall was lined in dark stone, and bone dry despite its proximity to the coast and