Jonny hurled the coil of rope across the gap between the dojo roof and wall. The coil slid across the walkway and stopped against a crenellation. Now if he could make the jump as easily he’d be all set. He unbuckled his mail and shrugged out of it. Every extra pound might be the difference between making it and falling to a broken leg.

He backed up to the far edge of the roof, took a steadying breath, and sprinted toward the wall. He reached the edge of the roof and leapt. His legs flailed as he sailed across the gap, like he was swimming through the air. His midsection slammed into the walkway on the top of the wall, driving the air out of his lungs. His fingers scrambled and his boots skidded off the wall.

Somehow, he managed to drag himself up over on to the walkway. He lay there for a second panting and counting his blessings.

“Jonathan Linn!”

What now? He turned his head to see a furiously scowling blond sorcerer flying toward him. Under any other circumstances the sight of a woman that beautiful moving in his direction would have filled Jonny with joy. Now all he could do was curse his bad luck.

He scrambled to his feet. A moment later golden bands formed around his legs and chest, pinning him in place. Jonny struggled, but he had more hope of smashing down the wall with his head than he had of escaping the sorcerer’s binding.

She landed beside him, no less terrifying and gorgeous up close than she had been at a distance. Maybe whatever was in the satchel could help. Jonny struggled to reach it, wrenching his torso and forearms around.

“Don’t waste your time,” the sorcerer said. “There’s no way you can break those bands. You’re coming with me and before I’m finished you’ll tell me everything you know about Connor Blackman and his plans.”

Now Jonny knew he was in trouble. Who the hell was Connor Blackman? No way the red tabards would believe he didn’t know anything. The tips of his fingers brushed the flap of the satchel. Just a little more.

He gave a mighty tug and screamed in pain when his shoulder dislocated. His hand slipped into the satchel. Smooth, cold metal greeted his fingers. A moment later pain unlike anything he’d ever felt coursed up his arm and across his chest. It felt like the life was being ripped out of him.

The bands vanished freeing his arms and legs.

“No!” The woman screamed and sent blasts of golden light at him.

They vanished just like the bands. Jonny smiled through the pain. Whatever he had kept the sorcerer’s power from reaching him. He dug the cylindrical object out—it looked like an urn—and held it toward her. Black lightning streaked out.

She moaned and collapsed.

Jonny wasn’t far behind, only sheer willpower kept him on his feet. He slammed the urn back into the satchel and tore his fingers free. The pain vanished along with the crackling lightning. He didn’t have long. Every sorcerer in the city probably sensed that outburst.

He tied the rope around one of the crenellations and threw it over the wall. He grabbed it and slid down, his already raw hands burning. He hit the ground and ran for the tree line. If he got out of sight before they spotted him he could disappear, find his contact, and trade the urn for a new start. Somewhere far away from the capital.