As far as her getting out of the situation…I think Mason should definatly be involved. Maybe at this point you could introduce a couple new characters and they set up a plan with Mason to get her out. Like, knock out the guards somehow, dress her incognito as a servant or something, then they all escape to a hide out to figure out a plan to find the killer. I think your on a good track though..just use your imagination.
References :

I leapt up angrily, shoving my chair back from the council’s curved table. Eyes followed me as I thrust my way past the guards blocking the door and into the hall. It was long, with walls made of a jumble of black and grey stones, a high ceiling and a burgundy red carpet. The door thudded closed as Mason too, extricated himself from the clawing grasp of the crowded room.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” He said quietly, looking down at me from his lanky height of six foot. We had always drawn stares when we were together, even when we were kids. He was tall, blond and shy and I; I was short with fiery auburn hair and a temper to match. And now, well, everyone stares at me.
“They’re discussing you, your presence is mandatory.” He said, and I harrumphed.
“They didn’t even notice I had gone, did they?” I raised a brow at him, daring him to prove me wrong. Reluctantly, he shook his head. I laughed humorlessly. For four years I had worked there, learning, trying, hoping. Mostly hoping, everyone I knew had hoped, desperately, that I would develop some kind of power. Mages perilously few and I had come from a long line of them. But I didn’t manifest until I was sixteen years of age, by then most of us had given up hope. Now, when I finally had a power it terrified them, I terrified them. I couldn’t really blame them, I terrified myself.
My power, according to my mentor Byron, was called sanguikenisis. A really big word for a really simple concept, one that had the council’s magicians scrambling for cover like cockroaches when a light’s turned on, blood control.
Now the entire council had been called to discuss the “possible ramifications” of my existence and I had been confined to the tower and its grounds.
Mason looked at me, caught up in my thoughts I had been quiet for over a minute, this was unusual and worry-worthy. I rolled my eyes at him and sighed. A sympathetic arm wrapped around my waist, I leaned my head against his shoulder.
“It’s just, so unfair. These are people I have known for years, that are closer to me than my family, and something I cannot control happens to me and they start talking about my existence like its variable. Like it’s in their power, and worst of all it is.” I punched the air with my words.
Two guards came walking up the hall.
“Hey Lyn, Rack.” Called Mason; They looked at him, blank faced and stern, and nodded, then they turned to me.
In the voice of someone reiterating something from memory, the dark haired guard said, “Byorn is dead. We are to take Pyre into custody.” The other guard, who had a very weak chin, came up behind me and roughly grabbed my arms and clamped manacles onto my wrists.
Byorn is dead? And what? They suspected me? Shocked I walked along with the soldiers. Weak-chin seemed take vindictive pleasure in tormenting me; he would push against my back and try to trip me, all the while grinning.
I barely heard Mason’s shouts for explanation and attempts to pull rank and order them to stop. I could deal with them being scared of me in theory, no matter how much I complained about it, but I couldn’t understand that they could have watched me for four years and then suspect that I would kill someone, especially my mentor.
A voice in my mind interrupted my blank numbness. It was full of anguish and grief, “NO! Not him!” It screamed. That part of me was broken, hurt and tearful.
The Tower’s cells were awful, I had always felt bad for the people kept there, at least until I had found out what they had done. The floor was wet with unidentifiable muck, moldy straw made up what was supposedly a bed and rats sat unconcernedly about and didn’t give the slightest attention to the passing people.
I trembled; winter came early here, and stayed late. The last cell on the left was mine. Weak-chin shoved me down; I hit the ground hard and slid my back slamming painfully into the wall.
Mason talked quietly with the dark haired kinder guard a few feet away from my prison. I shifted, twisting to maneuver into a bearable position, finally I sat up.
I coughed harshly, a wet disgusting sound, and closed my eyes, tears slid heavily from beneath my lids and tumbled angrily down my face.
Mason came over to my… room? Prison? Cage. He looked worried and even scared. “We have to get you out of here.”
I just looked at him, perplexed; in my stupefied state I could not understand the implications.
He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, every movement he made was stretched tight in frustration, tension rolled off him in waves causing black fear to rise up in my stomach and knot itself there. “The council has gone mad. They think you killed Byorn and two other top-level mages. Right now they’re pretty much act now ask questions never. From what I can dredge up you’re not even supposed to have a trial.”
He stopped, sadness twisting his face. He saw this as a betrayal, he had had faith in the council t
They think you killed Byorn and two other top-level mages. Right now they’re pretty much act now ask questions never. From what I can dredge up you’re not even supposed to have a trial.”
He stopped, sadness twisting his face. He saw this as a betrayal, he had had faith in the council to the last; I had given up on that a year ago when they decided I might be a removable problem.
“Your execution is supposed to be tomorrow morning. Apparently everyone’s convinced you are some manic killer.” He stared at me hungrily like he might not ever see me again.
I still didn’t understand, “Wait, what? Why do they suspect me in the first place?”
He looked at me again, such sorrow in his eyes that I almost flinched, “The mages, all of them were drained of blood, cleanly not a speck on the floor or their surroundings.”
I stumbled back. Now that scared me. Not the possibility of my execution, but the probability that they were right to. My power was evil; sooner or later it would infect me.
Maso
Mason motioned to me to come closer so I could hear him, “Listen,” He hissed, “we have to get you out of here, follow me.” He glanced back over his shoulder; the others had already left for the guard station. He pulled out a set of lock picks from his tunic and hurriedly set to work on the bolt.
It clanged open and he grasped my shoulder to pull me through when footsteps ran lightly down the hall. Mason dropped me as if burned and slammed the cell door shut as the person came into view.
My sister, Diane glanced behind her, nearly falling down the last few steps of the stair, and hurried towards us. Mason let out a gusty sigh and reopened my door.
Diane looked at me, “Two more bodies have been found; the councilors are seriously running scared. They’re rounding up everyone who knows and likes you so that no one questions their ‘harsh but necessary discipline of a rouge element’.”
Mason cut her off, “Yeah, we know, they’ve gone insane, and we can discuss it later. Right now we have to run unless you like your sisters extra crispy.” He raised an eye brow at her and without waiting for a response, pulled me out of a shadowy doorway at the end of the hall.
We ran across the grounds at a break neck pace struggling to make it to the edge of the forest before someone spotted us, this was made particularly difficult by the fact that my arms were still chained behind my back.
Finally, we made it. I fell to my knees just behind a huge elm tree, panting. Mason rolled his eyes and knelt beside me to unlock my manacles.
I grinned obliquely, “Useful skill,” I remarked, nodding to his picks. He winked at me and helped me to my feet. I looked around, “I know probably that the smart thing to do would be to snuff out someplace to hide but I want to find out who ever is killing people.” I thought of Byorn and the broken place inside of me wailed a little louder.
Mason nodded slowly, “you’re right, that’s not the smart thing to do.” I rolled my eyes at him. “But it is the right thing to do” He continued, “And I think that the best place to find that out is in…” He cut off abruptly staring around the woods.
A sharp crack sounded behind me, I spun to see what was there. Another to the west, we turned as one. Foosteps, circling drawing near, A guard? Or something darker?
Another crack sounded behind me but I couldn’t turn. Pain was blossoming at the base of my skull and my sight was fading irreversibly into blackness.
A pounding in my head and a mouthful of cotton were the first things I met upon awakening. I opened my eyes. I was in a dark circular room, it had a hole in the ceiling that let moonlight filter down into the open space. Metal bands encircled my wrists and held my arms aloft by chains attached to the wall.
Mason and Diane were chained next to me. “Are you okay?” Mason mouthed, a terrified look on his usually placid face.
Diane too eyed me worriedly.
I would have giggled at their over protectiveness if the situation wasn’t so dire and I didn’t need to puke so badly.
A man walked into the room from hidden door across the room from me. He was holding a long and jagged looking knife made of black stone with runes inscribed upon it and a large and similarly styled basin. More frightening than either object was the immense leer that stretched his scarred face grotesquely.
He walked directly over to me, set down his tools and put his hands on his hips. He scrutinized my face meticulously.
“So this is The Blood Mage?” His tone dripped sarcasm with the sickly sweetness of burnt honey. “You don’t look like much. But I guess only blood will tell.” He smirked wider.
“What do you want?” my voice was horse and it scratched at my throat.
He laughed heartily, “Me?” He gestured to himself. “I want power! You see I have discovered a ritual to absorb another’s power without any restrictions.”
He referred to the fact that when a person was gifted with magic there was always something that was like a boundary, to stop them from abusing it. Mine? I vomited at the sight, or smell of blood.
“Through draining their blood.” The man continued, “What’s the point of many lesser mages when you can have one all powerfull one?”
I raised my head a bit, “that still doesn’t answer what you want me for.” I said angrily.
He smiled again. “Your power is perfect. After I get it, I won’t need any stupid ritual. I could pull the blood and power together from their bodies at any distance and inject it directly beneath my skin”
So this was it. I really was evil, even in death. Because I was selfish and tried to escape, tens maybe hundreds of mages would die, and every mage to come.
“you should be honored” he said as he bent to pick up his knife and bowl. “You will be my last complete ritual.” With that he plunged the rough, jagged, blade into my abdomen.
I let out a terrible cry of pain and my back arched in the agony. Scars held the basin beneath the wound and twisted the knife out of my belly. The pain, so much worse this time, actually caused me to scream in the anguish. My blood spilled into the basin, rapidly, filling crimson over ebony.
A dreadful crash echoed around the room; Mason’s chains had detached from the wall. He used them as a make shift weapon. He twisted them ‘round Scar’s neck and yanked him to the ground. A second smash and Diane was free too. I had forgotten. Her power over metal was weak except when she had extreme emotions.
As Mason continued to divert Scars’ attention, Diane came over to me. She glared furiously at my manacles for a moment. They opened, and I fell.
I curled into a ball, my hands fluttering bemused over the blood still pouring from just above my waist.
All of a sudden a golden light spread from beneath my fingers and over my gash. Blood sped back through my hands, flying from the bowl and underneath my shirt new skin stretched red and raw, but miraculously there over the gash.
I panted as my energy fled, but marvelously I was healed. Perhaps my mentor had been correct. Maybe there had been more to my power than just a control over scarlet blood.
I struggled to my knees. Scars was chained, and gagged with a piece of Mason’s tunic. My sister came over to stand on my left, Mason on my right, they supported me as I desperately gathered the dregs of my energy to walk from the moonlit room.
“Wait” I moaned sleepily. “We should bring the basin and the knife to the council, they can stop anyone from ever doing this again.”
Diane nodded and fetched the disgusting blood stained items, I smiled at her and we walked out into the forest right outside the keep. All the way we walked, not once did I look back.
What I did not expect was, of course, what happened. The council didn’t even give me time to open my mouth.
“Seize them!” shouted one of the highest ranking members. I gasped as one of the guards hit me in the stomach. I fell, collapsing to my knees. For a moment I lost track of reality, the rushing sound of my own blood filled my ears and blackness caught my vision in its icy grip.
I almost would have welcomed the oblivion, except, that I knew I was not the only one who would die if they didn’t listen to me. I struggled to remain present, but when I could see once more, I was too late. I was bound and gagged, unable to speak or make any sound.
Mason and Diane were also tied, but in a more lenient way. They stood before the council, twin looks of determination on their faces. They couldn’t see me, didn’t know that I was awake.
“If you simply renounce your claims, accept the need and stand aside, then you can have your lives. You don’t have to die for her!
What has she ever done for you? Or for anyone? That girl is a menace and will die for it.” said the councilman who had ordered us to be captured.
“What has she done?” Mason asked, anger simmering behind his quiet tone. “She has endured. You, Byorn, we all put pressure on her to develop some kind of power, an event that she had no control over; and when she did, you despised her for it because, no matter how well you knew her, the girl who you’ve watched grow up from child to woman, you didn’t know her power.” He scanned the faces of the council furiously. “You can’t accept what you don’t see in yourselves. You hate it, reject it, and then comes murder. You don’t even have the decency to consider that you might be wrong; we know who actually killed Byorn and the others! It was…”
The rest of his sentence was muffled by a gag held by one of the guards. I doubt anyone else had seen the discreet signal form the man in charge, but I had.
“We don’t need your lies; it’s obvious you’re under her control!” He said. I stared at him; he was councilman Havare, a long time supporter of my death. Where were all the other members? It took a full vote and unanimous decision to sentence someone to death. Had they given in?
“So? What about you? Are you willing to die for your sister?” Havare asked, glaring down at her. Diane’s head was down, she looked completely broken. She glanced back at me sorrow and shame in her eyes before, quickly shaking her head.
A simpering, gleeful smile spread across Havare’s face, and he caught my eye. Disbelief had filled me, Diane, the girl I had relied on throughout this ordeal had abandoned me. Mason was obviously as shocked as I was. His yells, stifled by the gag, echoed around the hollow room hurting my ears. I know that I wouldn’t have wanted her to die for me, I know that, in my head. But in my heart this was a betrayal, as good as killing me herself.
No tears or expressions leaked through my mask, the one I had perfected during countless council meetings discussing me. I barely glanced at her as she was released, led by guards to sit beside Havare. A soldier yanked me to my feet, sending shooting pains across my abdomen. The only emotion that I released as I was led from the room was a single resigned look at Mason. He nodded at me, seeing the I told you so behind my eyes. How could I have believed that they would open their minds, they hadn’t done at any point this year. What difference would a day make?
Mason was led out of the room at my side, the torchlight shining off his dirty blond hair and fating a glare across his furious eyes. I stared at him hungrily as we walked, memorizing his face, the way even when he was angry his lips curved upward slightly, the too-long lashes that on any other boy would have been considered girly, the angles and planes of his face; so sharp and crisp, and the way his eyes sought mine.
He had been my friend since birth, my brother when I needed someone to lean on, and, I had hoped, something more, when we had walked outside on the roofs and balconies of the citadel at night. He was so dear to me, and I was the cause of his death. If he was going to die for me like this, than I was glad I died with him. I couldn’t have lived with that guilt, that grief.
A door opened, releasing a gust of warm wind into the small hallway we had been being led down. In front of me was a sight that made my blood run cold, causing me to shake behind my impenetrable façade. A pyre stood in front of me, stacks of logs and kindling surrounding a post that was crimson against the grey of rising dawn. My sentry didn’t pause; there was no falter in his steps, nor any doubt in his merciless eyes. He truly believed himself to be doing the right thing and yet I had known this man since I moved to the city.
What had poisoned their minds so completely that they would do this? What else, but fear?
Fear paralyzed the heart and mind, putting thoughts of rage and murder into thoughts.
I was led up the steps of the mound of wood, slipping on small twigs and stumbling as I walked. My heart was beating so fast, like it was bird, my chest a cage, and it tried desperately to escape before it burned. I could feel it pounding in my breast, and behind my eyes, feel the tingle of blood in my finger tips, and the terror of the moment, but I didn’t show it. I didn’t show anything
I was slammed against the post, my arms untied but only long enough to wrench them around the stake and manacle them again, tighter than before. Mason was tied next to me, his side warm against mine. Finally we were ungagged and the soldier left.
I looked up at Mason, who watched me too. “Why didn’t you say no. They don’t have to kill you too!” A single tear slid
down my cheek.