[excerpt from section 1]

"Have you decided to stand and fight instead of running now?" Crow inquired mildly, keeping his voice even and low. He had every intention of killing the rouge, but that was no reason to be impolite.

"I'd prefer to do neither," the man in brown rasped, throwing back his hood. His face bore the marks of a long pursuit, lines of hunger and fear, dirt ground into the creases of his face, his chin and cheeks rudely stubbled. Still his eyes flashed steely blue defiance, and nothing in his gaze suggested surrender.

"I think you relinquished every other option when you decided to practice magic without the Academy's approval. You have one last chance. Will you surrender? I'll make your death a quick and painless one."

The man in brown spit derisively. "I'll not make your job easy, you black-hearted son of a stoat. You and your Black Stars are nothing but a bunch of hired killers for all your fancy talk about protecting the innocent. Come now! I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be." Crow flipped his cloak back to reveal his star badge. "I'm the best there is."

The fugitive's eyes widened in shocked recognition, then narrowed.

"Piss off, Adept." He flung up his hands in a casting position, and Crow narrowed his attention, slipping into the state of mind that let him access his powers, rattling off the syllables of his mid-range shielding spell like second nature.

Unfortunately, he was only halfway through when something large and heavy struck him from behind, and everything fell to darkness.

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