I stood outside the Alchemist tower, surrounded by my guards who were all on edge. Nobody wanted to come to this tower. It had been relegated to the marshes south of the city after their repeated destruction of city property as their guild hall caught fire, melted, oozed, glowed, and experienced other bizarre effects over the centuries. By an act of both city law and Mage Council mandate, the tower was forced to be built or moved outside of a one-mile radius of the city around a century ago.

  The city had a long memory. And while not considered haunted, per se, the tower was believed to be cursed by most citizens. And history gave them plenty of reasons to take that point of view.

  I waited for five minutes after knocking loudly. Still, nobody had come to the door.

  Do they know I am here? I asked Bella for the third time.

  They know. They are collecting themselves and want to make sure you know your place.

  Should I use my trump card? I asked.

  Not yet. Be patient and take the high ground until no ground is left to you. She responded. Besides, it is their own fault for not defending themselves more effectively before now.

  When the door finally opened, my journeyman friend Sandor was on the other side. He was pale, and his eyes were wild with fear.

  “You are to follow me, Patron.” He said, but he jerked his head back toward the horses, and his eyebrows were raised in an attempt to tell me something without using words.

  I entered and said, “Lead on, please.”

  He looked desperate, but then obeyed his masters. He closed the door behind us and swiveled a large crossbar into place. There was a bell rope next to the door, which he reached for, hesitated, and then did not pull it down.

  He refused to magically seal the door, Gwydion. Bella told me.

  “Thank you, Sandor. Please lead the way.”

  “Yes, Patron.” He replied. He led me down a short hall and then through an archway to the right that led down a tunnel that appeared to wind around the outer walls of the tower.

  Sandor continued to lead me down the narrow and twisting corridor without exits. It continued at a gradual descent. I was certain that I was well underground by now.

  Bella said urgently, Gwydion, they intend to put you on trial!

  For what? I asked.

  For making unsanctioned potions against guild law and tradition.

  I am not a member of their guild. I stated rationally.

  They do not care.

  What consequences are they seeking? I asked.

  They are confused and mixed. Several of them want death, others imprisonment below, others are uncertain and believe that this action is wrong. You should turn back before you are entirely in their power.

  It’s too late now. I said firmly. Can you project to Isaac so he hears what happens?

  With your permission, I can allow him to hear what you hear and see what you see.

  Do it once I enter their trials room. I said as I noticed Master Alexander waiting for me at the entrance to whatever room they were herding me.

  Alchemist Alexander met me a few yards before a closed door at the end of this corridor. He wore formal robes of his order with a long, draping hood that was lowered down his back so his head was free and visible. He said quietly, “You should turn back quickly and run for the exit.” He whispered. “This meeting will not go as you hope.”

  Sandor looked scared but did not say anything.

  “I have a message to deliver from the Duke and the War Council,” I replied.

  “Then let them send another. There is no rush.” He answered.

  I appreciated his advice, and while it may have also been as much about his own risk in this matter as my safety, I gave him the benefit of the doubt since he had been so helpful to me earlier. Granted, it led us to this point, but we would have been far worse off if the shoppe was not making the potions that the alchemist guild refused to share.

  “Thank you for your advice, Master Alexander. Our interactions, limited as they were with your assistance in fulfilling your contract with the Enchanter’s guild, nevertheless speak highly of you and your reputation among masters and apprentices alike.”

  He nodded, comforted by my words that I would not implicate him in this situation, regardless of what may come.

  “Then we will enter. You are asked to move to the center of the room where your words can best be heard by all present.” He stated blandly and seemingly for the record.

  Sandor knocked on the door three times slowly.

  A sound like the sliding of a heavy wooden bar followed, and the door opened. Another journeyman was standing in front of the doorway, blocking our progress.

  The second journeyman asked in a formal and ritualized tone, “Who knocks at the door?”

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  Sandor replied, “One who would gain entry.”

  “Who vouches for entry?” he asked in reply.

  Master Alexander replied, “A master with right of entry.”

  The journeyman replied for a third time. “And for what purpose?”

  Master Alexander stated formally and loudly so that those inside the room could hear, “I bring one to face the guild, all united in one.”

  There was a carved inscription above the entry portal that read those last four words. It must have been a guild motto or vow of some kind.

  Without another word, the second journeyman stepped aside. Sandor entered first and stepped to the right, opposite where the other journeyman stood with a hand on the open door.

  I entered next, followed by Master Alexander behind me and slightly to my left. The way was clear. A path continued its downward slope to the bottom of what appeared to be a small, round amphitheater. A slightly raised, round podium one step high stood in the center of the round space at the foot of the theater or kiva.

  You are not alone, Gwydion. Bella told me.

  I walked down the ramp, into the center, and onto the podium.

  A barely whispered, “I’m sorry,” was followed by Master Alexander stepping to the side and pushing against a column just to the right of where I had entered the lower level of this trials room. A hidden panel recessed, and a thin sheet of pale green light encompassed the entire circumference of the raised podium I stood upon, from floor to ceiling.

  So they used two familiar faces to lure me in here. The journeyman apprentice, I called a friend, and the friendly face of the alchemist who works with the enchanter apprentices studying for their trials.

  Their approach is one of deceit, hidden traps, and double meanings.

  A voice rang out. “Who stands accused before the guild?”

  All the voices repeated in a creepy, eerie monotone, “All united in one.”

  I decided to keep this simple. My long title would not prove helpful here. “I am Lord Gwydion Istari, Commander of the Keelwell Special Services and journeyman of the Enchanters Guild, here by order of the Duke and The Tower.”

  The same voice rang out, “We recognize no authority outside these walls. The accused will answer our direct questions, and we will sit in judgment of his answers.”

  There was no way to determine who was speaking. With the exception of Master Alexander, who kept his hood down and took a seat among the rows of mostly empty benches, all others were hooded. The magical barrier also seemed to muffle and distort sounds just enough that it was not possible to detect who was speaking.

  Bella said, Turn to your right ninety degrees, it is the middle of the three alchemists who is speaking to you. He is the leader of this assembly, Guildmaster Ebon Flangecleft. The First Accuser and to his right is Master Cherit Harmony, and the Second Accuser on his left is Master Dollum Jotter.

  I turned slowly to look all around the room, completing a turn and a quarter, facing the center of the three robed figures. I bowed and said, “Guildmaster, I am here to ask for the promised supplies of potions, vowed before Mage Council and our liege.

  There was a stirring among the alchemists at my calmness and ability to single out the speaker and their guild master.

  “You stand accused of crimes against the guild.” He stated. The distortion effect was still in force, but there was an uneasiness to his tone, and it lacked the confidence anonymity had given him just moments ago.

  I ignored his reply. “How do you respond to the Duke and The Tower in this matter?” I replied.

  The mage to his right raised his arm and pointed it at me. “You are accused of betrayal of our prime ruling. How do you plead?”

  I turned to him, raised an eyebrow, and cocked my head to one side. Then I slowly turned back to the guildmaster, dismissing the alchemist from my attention.

  The mage to the guildmaster’s left fairly spat his words out and also pointed an accusing finger at me. “Thrice accused. How do you plead?”

  I sighed deeply. “Guildmaster, I am not a member of your guild, and I am here by the laws of Council, you have no authority over me.”

  They had been expecting this reply.

  Most, but not all, of the assembled mages stomped their feet against the floor. It would not have ordinarily made much sound, but there had to be an amplifying effect in the room.

  Bella said, Isaac says not to be drawn into their game. They have planned it well. Stick to your mission and speak to nothing else.

  When the noise subsided, I spoke before one of the guildmaster’s goons could play their next card.

  “Thrice asked, guildmaster, how do you respond to the Duke and The Tower?”

  He actually stood up in his rage. “We recognize no authority outside these walls!”

  The stomping resumed and lasted longer this time.

  Bella, do you have any idea what the barrier is made of? I asked while the stomping continued.

  It is magical, and its purpose is containment and pain. It can be raised, lowered, or made smaller from the device Alexander used to turn it on.

  So, can it squeeze me in here?

  It can be closed to a diameter far less than your body size. Yes. It would damage and then kill you if that function is used.

  Lovely.

  I stood patiently, awaiting its end. When it did, I spoke again before they could reply. “Then, guildmaster, I have your answer, and my mission is complete. I came in peace. I depart in peace.”

  I moved toward the barrier.

  “The accused will remain silent and still!” The mage to the right of the guildmaster yelled. He then pointed at Alexander. “Reduce the diameter by one quarter!”

  Alexander stood up and deliberately moved slowly toward the device. He turned to me, seeing if I would back up. When I didn’t, he sighed and turned a nob a quarter turn.

  The light struck me from the front as the circle reduced in size as ordered.

  There was no pain because of my magical armor spell, but I was thrown back to the center of the dais in a heap.

  My staff wanted to use the Avoid First Strike SUS I had replaced at my first opportunity, but I restrained its function and allowed the strike to occur. They drew first blood.

  The mage who had ordered the turning began to laugh in a cackling, semi demented fashion. It was frightening.

  I stood up, having lost a third of my armor in that single strike.

  I brushed at my robes, suggesting disdain in their attack upon me.

  “You dare to strike an emissary of the Duke and The Tower?” I asked loudly.

  The other mage to the guildmaster’s left stood and shouted, “Reduce the diameter by one more quarter!”

  Alexander turned the knob, and the diameter decreased again. I was already in the center of the dias, so it had no effect on me. I cross my arms as asked, “Am I to be held against my will? Tortured without cause and in violation of our most basic laws?”

  The guildmaster stood. “It is my right to reduce the circle yet another quarter. You will answer our charges and face our judgment.”

  I sighed. “No, guildmaster, I will not.”

  He sputtered in rage and shouted, “Reduce the diameter by one more quarter!”

  I was still safe, but it was clear that a final order to reduce the field would result in my being struck by it from all directions around me.

  They had me in a tight spot, and they knew it.

  The three mages seated themselves, and the guildmaster resumed. “You are accused of making potions without sanction or license and sharing recipes of those potions with civilians. The punishment for this offense is dire.”

  I crossed my arms again but remained silent.

  “How do you plead?” The mage on the right demanded.

  I said nothing.

  The mage on the left stated in a hiss, “Perhaps he learned his secrets from another. His father has long been a known source of knowledge not sanctioned by the guild or Council.

  My blood ran cold. He had just threatened my family.

  Bella said urgently, Isaac and the Duke are furious. But Isaac has yelled at me to tell you not to react emotionally. But to remind you that your earrings are your exit.

  I lowered my hands and looked at the three mages before me. “You attack a sworn emissary of the Duke and Tower and then threaten the safety of his family if he does not comply with your unjust treatment?”

  The mage on the left stood and began to rant, yet again, “We recognize no authority outside these walls!”

  It was time.