Xandrie crashed into the house, slamming the iron door behind her. For once, she wanted everyone to hear her; it didn’t take more than a second to decide she had a duty to tell them what Darsen had done. It wasn’t just that she’d been in danger; if he was willing to attempt to rape the daughter of a mage, there was no one he wouldn’t attack. It wasn’t just rumors and her instincts talking now. She knew the facts.

Mages stood above anyone of noble blood, except princes and kings; that meant her parents surpassed Darsen, and they were not known for being light-handed when it came to punishing miscreants. He was a noble, so they’d probably commute the sentence to exile, but she was certain they’d banish him someplace awful and keep her safe.

As her mother entered the front room, Xandrie steeled herself to recount the details of the attack. “Darsen Usta tried to rape me.”

Her mother frowned. “Say what, now?”

Xandrie repeated the facts of the matter as plainly as she could. The man had lain in wait in a dark alley, restrained her, and tried to rip her clothes off. She didn’t mention his hard on; it was her mother she was talking to, after all.

“Lars,” her mother shouted up the stairs. “Get down here and listen to the nonsense your middle-born daughter is spouting.”

She stared open mouthed in shock. That was her mother’s reply? Calling her accusation nonsense?

“Where’s Talia? She’ll believe me,” said Xandrie.

“Talia has been selected as the decade’s most promising mage and was removed to the capital this very afternoon. Which you would have known, if you weren’t wandering about again.”

Her hands flew to her stomach. It really did feel like a gut punch. She wouldn’t ordinarily have shown that much emotion in front of her mother, but she couldn’t help herself. Without Talia here to back her up, nothing she said would be taken seriously.

“I knew you’d be selfish about it, instead of pleased for your sister,” her mother spat, and it hurt more than a slap. She did love Talia, and her first reaction should have been feeling glad that she’d been chosen. Perhaps her mother was right, and she was self-centered. Or perhaps she’d just escaped a rape attempt and wanted some comfort from the only person likely to give it to her. “You never see the bigger picture. The training she’ll receive will put her head and shoulders above the competition. At least someone around here knows how to be a good daughter. Lars!”

Lars Astria had finally come down the stairs.

“What, now?” he growled, his frown deepened as it often was when he looked at Xandrie. He was a formidable presence, even in his lab coat and slippers. “Can’t this wait? I’m formulating some high-end compounds. I should not be away from my lab.”

“Your daughter, here, says Darsen assaulted her.”

Her father rolled his eyes, and shook his head.

“Pathetic,” he laughed casually. “More attention-seeking. You should have grown out of this nonsense by now.”

More? When had she sought their attention? She’d known by age twelve, over a dozen years ago, that they would give her none.

“All you need to do is lay a telling serum on his tongue and he’ll be compelled to speak the truth. Please.” Xandrie didn’t want to beg, but Darsen couldn’t go free - he just couldn’t. Who knew what he’d do next if he wasn’t punished now?

She hadn’t noticed her elder sister until her voice betrayed her presence. “Perhaps we should,” she said cautiously, and Xandrie’s jaw fell open.

Aleria had stopped talking to her thirteen years ago - she didn’t even look at her, refusing to acknowledge that she had a magicless sister, yet there she was, her green eyes narrowed as she stared directly at her.

“Alexandria has never been a liar.”

She moved without thinking, taking her sister’s hand and kissing the back of her palm. She would never have seen this coming.

It wasn’t enough, though.

“We’re not going to insult a man who’s broken bread with us, who sits on the Council, who brings honor to his family name,” her mother’s voice rose to a shout. “The man wants to marry you, girl. Chances are he tried to kiss you, but you, as you always do, made a fuss about nothing.”

Xandrie was about to launch a counter-argument when the front doors swung open with such force the walls shook. Darsen glowered in the doorway. The coward had brought an entire contingent of the Guard to back him up.

“Arrest this woman,” he said.

“On what grounds?”

“Consorting with the Demon.”

Xandrie snorted. She couldn’t help herself. The man was a joke.

Darsen turned towards her parents. “It pains me to do this, my dear, dear friends.”

Really? He was going to suck up to them and tell a bunch of lies?

“Your daughter cornered me by the outer walls of the village. She broke curfew, but that’s nothing compared to what came next.”

Xandrie folded her arms. What nonsense was this jackass going to try to sell them?

“Her emerald eyes, which you tout as one of her finest features, Kari, blazed gold before she laid her hands on me.” Darsen tore open his shirt. “She did this.”

Xandrie stared in disbelief at the hand-shaped burn on his chest. Could those marks really have come from her? She knew of mages who only showed their skills under duress, but surely, she would have known if she’d cast a spell. Then again, the scene had been so blurry, and happened so fast, perhaps she’d conjured up a simple sui-defensor spell without knowing what she was doing?

Then, she remembered the power rushing to her arm. Fuck. She had done something to him. But it was in self-defense, and magic wasn’t exactly outlawed.

The guard crept towards her, fearful no doubt that the so-called Demon would rise up through her and smite them. It would have been laughable were it not for the fact that most of her family seemed to be swallowing Darsen’s horseshit.

“If you won’t lay a telling salve on him, lay one on me. I’ll tell you what happened!” her voice was becoming desperate.

“I think both of them should be interrogated under oath,” Aleria said, supporting her again.

Everyone ignored her.

Her father approached her, and for a second, she wondered if he would stand beside her, but instead he suddenly flicked a smidge of green powder over Xandrie.

“You can approach the suspect now.”

Xandrie couldn’t believe her own father would restrain her with some of his famous Stock Still formula, but her arms were rooted to her side and the Guards swarmed and bound her with no effort. “The man tried to rape me. He forced himself on me. Will no one believe me?”

“I believe that’s entirely possible, and should be investigated.”

Again, no one paid any mind to Aleria. Xandrie had seen it happen before, and she hadn’t cared much. Her sister was the pretty one; no one cared about what came out of her mouth.

“We recuse ourselves, naturally, from the proceedings,” her mother announced. “It would be unseemly if her family were to be involved in any way. The law dictates she be tried in the manner proscribed.”

“You’d let them torture me?” Xandrie couldn’t believe it. She’d known she wasn’t wanted or welcome in her family - she had no idea her parents hated her.

Turning to her elder sister, eyes shining, she begged, “Don’t let him hurt anyone else. Watch him.” Aleria nodded, as the Guard seized her and shoved her towards the door.

Xandrie felt the same fury that had overcome her by the village walls, rise from the pit of her stomach. She needed to contain herself, save that energy for what came next. She knew, all too well, what the dungeons of Malec held. There would be pincers and fire and thumbscrews and a rack. Worse yet, they were staffed with the most brutal of all men.

She wasn’t wrong. The dungeons were stacked to the ceiling with well-oiled and highly-polished instruments of torture. The dungeon master took great pride in his work. Felons and villains folded under his hand.

Xandrie was lashed to a tilting table, the vicious tools of her torturer all around her. She didn’t know where it came from, but each time the vile brute approached her, she burned with the power of a thousand suns and neither he, nor any of his sniveling henchmen, could touch her. They had not managed to break her skin once.

Darsen hovered in the background, consulting with the counsellors and noblemen he and her parents were so close with.

Pfft, noble my ass. You’re no more a noble than I’m a vessel of the Demon.

A glint of gold said the Mayor was back there, in his ceremonial garb. He didn’t dare draw close. None of them did. They were all of one opinion: she was possessed. She had consorted with, and did the bidding of, none other than the Demon of Bhashtar. There was only one sentence.

That sentence was “Death.”