"Dark magic, huh…" Ludwig turned to the Prince. The words left him calm, almost conversational, though the air itself felt like it had teeth. Overhead, the sky pressed low, bloodied and stale, and the river's jaundiced surface gave back their reflections as blurred smears that breathed when they did not. He let the silence stretch a heartbeat longer than manners required, forcing the question to sit between them like a stone on a table.
"You believe that was dark magic?" he asked again.
"It sure as hell felt like it," Tull said as he took the space directly in front of Alex with the trained thoughtlessness of a shield that knows what it is for. The big man did not posture. He simply placed himself where the blade would fall. "Do you know the punishment of using Dark Magic in the empire?" His tone had the iron taste of rules chewed for years.
