There were no visible wounds, other than the blood and the smell of burned hair, but Will retrieved a regeneration potion and poured it down her throat anyway. He doubted it would do anything for injuries caused by turyn feedback, but he didn’t know what else to do. It might heal some superficial damage, until the magic decided her tissues were dead, then it would stop.

  Her heart remained still.

  With tears running down his cheeks, Will laid, her down and put his hands on top of her chest. Unsure what else to do, he tried to match her turyn, as best as he could remember it, for currently her flesh was little more than a husk. Pressing the energy inward, he infused her with it and focused on her heart, praying it would help.

  Wild magic, especially when used on living flesh, could easily result in more harm than good. Will had done similar things many years before, saving two lives from the illness brought on by festering wounds, but he hadn’t had any real idea what he was doing. He still didn’t. The healing class at Wurthaven had only taught him enough to know he probably wasn’t going to do any good.

  But his cousin’s heart had already stopped. Lacking better knowledge, Will did the only thing that might help. Seconds passed while he cried over Sammy’s unstirring flesh. He begged the gods to help her, but somehow, he knew they wouldn’t, or couldn’t. They’d told him that once before, though he wasn’t sure when.

  “Please wake up, Sammy. What am I going to tell your dad?” his voice croaked awkwardly while he cried and pled with her. “Please. Eric’s already gone. I don’t have much left. You’re all I have. Please, Sammy, please wake up.”

  Still hunched over her, he felt the first beat, and he froze, not daring to believe. An eternity later, her heart beat again. Her mouth opened to draw air, and she choked on the potion still in her throat. Will rolled her onto her side so she could spit the rest out.

  Time passed, and her heart continued to keep its pace. The coughing stopped, and her breathing became shallow but steady.

  Emory stirred, then sat up. The nobleman blinked several times as he looked over at Will and Sammy, obviously confused. “You made it. What happened?” His expression gradually changed as he realized Sammy was unconscious.

  Will struggled to contain his anger. Emory was fine. It was his fault Sammy had nearly died. Nobody passes out on purpose, he reminded himself. “You overexerted yourself to open the gate. I got through, but you collapsed right after.”

  Emory crawled over to sit on the other side of Sammy. “Is she all right?”

  “No,” said Will, his anger showing in his voice. “You passed out first, and she was left holding the bag. The feedback stopped her heart.”

  Emory’s voice broke as he responded, “What? No!” Then he saw the blood on her face. Reaching out, he tried to wipe some of it away.

  “Stop that,” snapped Will harshly. “She’s alive, but I don’t know how bad the damage is. Do you have a blanket?”

  Emory nodded.

  “Fold it and make a spot for us to lay her.”

  Will used a spell to warm the ground beneath the blanket, then lifted Sammy gently. Emory helped, holding her legs so Will could support her head and shoulders. Once they had her in place, Will summoned a blanket of his own to put over her. From his limnthal, he produced a jar of water and several towels, then he started cleaning away the blood around Sammy’s face and ears.

  “Mind if I do that?” asked Emory quietly.

  Will studied the other man’s face for a moment. Emory’s eyes were red, and Will could see he was on the verge of tears. He couldn’t help what happened, he told himself, but his anger persisted. Mastering himself, Will handed over the damp cloth. “Here.”

  Silent tears began to fall as Emory dabbed gently at the corners of her eyes. “She looks whole, but you said there might be damage? What kind of damage?”

  His response was deliberately harsh. “She probably suffered a break in her will, along with a serious shock to her system from the feedback. Beyond that, I don’t know. There could be all kinds of internal damage. I gave her a regeneration potion before her heart started beating again, so any physical damage is likely healed, but I don’t know about the rest.”

  “A break in her will?”

  Wurthaven had been teaching generations of wizards who weren’t wizards, according to Arrogan’s definition. Without learning to compress their source, they never developed their will to the extremes that true wizards did. Consequently, injuries to the will were almost unheard of. Only specialists in healing would even be taught about the possibility. Will had talked about the subject briefly with his students, but Emory didn’t seem to remember that discussion. Closing his eyes, he focused on patience.

  “It’s a metaphysical concept, but the best analogy is that of a muscle. As a wizard matures, their will becomes stronger over time. That’s what I was told, though I would add I think that pushing your limits probably helps too. That might explain why I’m such an outlier. Anyway, like a muscle, it can be damaged if you overexert yourself. It happened to me once when I was an apprentice.”

  Emory nodded. “So, she’ll get better then?”

  “Maybe,” said Will. “If you strain a muscle, you can recover in a few days or weeks. Tear it and it might take months. Rip a tendon loose or completely tear the muscle and you will be crippled for life. There’s no way to know how bad it is, but for now that’s the least of our worries. We don’t know if she will wake up. There could be more serious problems with her brain, and I’m not sure if regeneration potions can fix such things.”

  “You think something like that happened to her?”

  Will glared at the other man. “You woke up. She hasn’t. People don’t lose consciousness for no reason. If this was a simple faint, she’d already be awake.”

  “She could just be tired. We’re both exhausted.”

  Conjuring a brilliant mote of light with one hand, Will opened one of Sammy’s eyes. The pupil was dilated to the fullest and didn’t respond to the light. Repeating the process, he found the other eye also failed to respond. “See that?”

  “What does it mean?”

  “Stroke, concussion, some kind of brain damage. I’m not sure. We’ll know better when she wakes up, if she wakes up.” As he studied her face, Will noticed Sammy had a ribbon in her hair. She’d braided it in beneath the rest of her hair, so it wasn’t immediately obvious. He recognized it, though. Will had bought several ribbons two years ago, and he’d given one to Sammy and one to Selene. Has she been wearing it like this all this time? He didn’t know. She might have put it in just for today, perhaps as a good luck charm.

  Will found the end of the braid and untied it, then worked it loose. He’d return it when she was better. His vision grew blurry, and the braid unwound, and the ribbon slid through his fingers. A strange bump at the end made him focus his attention. A brass button had been attached there, but it hadn’t been there when Will had first bought it. Turning it over, Will saw a tiny script engraved in the metal, and with closer inspection he saw the symbols were runes rather than regular script.

  Increasing his visual sensitivity, Will saw the faintest trace of turyn, and his suspicion went from one to ten in an instant. Turyn traces faded with time, unless the item was permanently enchanted, and most enchantments had a far stronger turyn signature. Whatever this was meant to do, it was deliberately designed to be nearly undetectable.

  He had no idea what its intended function was. It wasn’t strong enough to do anything practical, but it could be a type of beacon, or it might be designed to aid scrying. It could even be meant for listening. Such subtle artifice was miles beyond his ken. All he could guess was that it was probably passive, given the tiny amount of power. Tightening his grip, Will ripped it from the end of the ribbon.

  The lich? Lognion? Aislinn? It could have been from any of them. Yet more evidence of the constant scrutiny Will was under. Tracking his loved ones had only a few limited purposes, protection or leverage. Pulling back the blanket, Will searched her clothing to see if he could find anything else. He found a second example cleverly hidden in a copper rivet that attached the buckle of her belt. A third was hidden in the sole of her shoe. Unsure if he could find them all, Will produced a knife and began cutting away her clothing.

  “What are you doing?” asked Emory.

  “Shut up.”

  Sammy had been dressed as a boy for the day’s work. Will cut her tunic up the center and then down both sleeves before pulling it free and tossing it into a pile. He added the belt and her shoes. Then he began cutting up her trousers.

  Emory found himself staring at Sammy’s bare chest, and his cheeks colored. “You can’t do that. Have you lost your mind?”

  At that point, Will’s anger had combined with his newfound paranoia, so his patience had grown thin. Still unsure what the enchantment did, he couldn’t be sure someone wasn’t listening to them, even if he thought it doubtful. It’s probably just to locate her, he told himself. He pulled his cousin’s trousers off and added them to the pile, then started cutting her undergarments.

  “Stop!” yelled Emory, grabbing Will’s knife hand.

  Will’s fury spilled over as his eyes locked onto Emory’s. “Listen, you prissy little peacock! She’s family, so take your disgusting thoughts and shove them up your ass. I don’t have time to coddle a spoiled rich brat right now. Do you hear me?” Emory’s eyes went wide with shock, then Will added, “Take off your clothes.”

  “What?”

  His anger made him move violently with sudden jerks and stops. Will seized the pile of clothing and pulled out the belt before turning it over to show Emory the suspicious rivet. Then he put a finger over his lips to indicate the need for silence. Emory was even more confused, but Will wrote a message in the air, using his turyn to construct normal letters in the same fashion he ordinarily created rune constructs.

  From Emory’s point of view, it was reversed, so he stepped around to look from Will’s perspective, then read the glowing letters: enchanted buttons, rivets, beacons, spying devices.

  The nobleman began undressing, and Will did the same. Then he summoned all his spare clothes from his limnthal. He didn’t see evidence of any suspicious rivets or buttons, but he threw them into the pile as well, reserving only one tunic, trousers, and an old pair of boots. They were from his early time at Wurthaven, and he hadn’t used them in at least two years. They were probably safe, so he’d wear them for now, but he’d destroy them as soon as he could find more clothes.

  Seeing what he was doing, Emory emptied out his own spare clothing from his limnthal. The nobleman was now completely naked and held nothing but a leather purse in one hand. “What’s that?” asked Will.

  “Coin.”

  Will nodded at the pile of clothes.

  “There’s twenty gold crowns in here. You suspect our coins too?” He didn’t wait for an answer before tossing the purse onto the pile.

  Coins would be an easy way to sneak such a tracker onto them, but they’d also be a chaotic mess if the recipient used them to pay for things. Whoever was doing the spying probably wouldn’t want to try and deal with that, but Will wasn’t feeling very trusting at the moment. He had over five hundred crowns along with other coinage in his limnthal. A lot of it he could trace back to his time selling potions at Wurthaven, but the small change was more recent. Will decided he’d just leave it alone. As long as it remained in the limnthal, it couldn’t be used to trace them, if it was part of the problem. He considered telling Emory to pick up his purse, but he was feeling spiteful.

  They incinerated the pile until nothing remained but ash and half-melted metal bits. Then Will employed his talent to create another sonic grinder and pushed the remains into it. It took a bit of work to render the metal into dust, but there was no lack of turyn where they were. The wind scattered the metal flakes across the stone platform.

  The two naked men stood in the cold air, shivering, then Will summoned the last set of clothes he’d held back and started dressing. Emory’s face was the picture of shock and indignation. “What the hell?” he demanded, waving his hands in Will’s general direction.

  Will was unapologetic. “They’re old, so likely safe, but I’ll get rid of them shortly.” He glanced around at their surroundings. “Aislinn or Tailtiu are liable to return soon. I want to be gone before then.” He glanced at Evie, who had been watching silently for some time. “Stay here and guard them.”

  “You suspect the fae?” asked Emory.

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Doesn’t matter, though. I intend to make sure no one can find her.” He pointed at Sammy. “I’ll be back soon.” Without any other warning, he slipped halfway from his body and located his father, then teleported to Myrsta.

  Mark Nerrow was meeting with what appeared to be a delegation of Darrowan citizens, but after he got over his initial surprise at Will’s appearance, he made a quick apology and excused himself to talk with Will privately. “What’s happening?”

  “I need money and clothes,” said Will without preamble. “Don’t ask why.” He pointed at his ear, then leaned in to whisper in Mark’s, “Someone is tracking me, or listening. I’m not sure.”

  His father stepped over to an ironbound chest and unlocked it with a key he carried on his belt. A large number of small pouches were inside, tied and labeled with ribbons to denote what they contained. Will recognized it from his own time in the military; it was a pay chest. The pouches represented the weekly pay for various soldiers, neatly organized and divided according to rank. The pouches weren’t given out, of course, but the paymaster organized them ahead of time, so that on payday he could hand them out. The soldiers would then check the amount and return the pouch for use the next week.

  Mark tossed him a heavy pouch with a ribbon indicating it was meant for a captain. There would be two crowns inside, but likely not in gold. The feel and heft confirmed that there were twenty silver clima within. Will started to untie it, but he waved his hand. “Keep the pouch. I’ll replace it later. Need more?”

  “That’s enough for now.”

  “What else do you need?” asked his father.

  The concern on Mark’s face touched him, but Will didn’t have time to feel sentimental. He gave the question a moment’s thought. He’d planned to steal clothes, but there were better solutions considering where he was. “Clothes for three.”

  “Give me a minute.” His father left and didn’t return for nearly half an hour. When he did, he had his batman with him, carrying several bundles. The governor left the servant outside and carried the bundles in himself so no one would see Will. “Uniforms,” he said simply. “Darrowan, unfortunately, but that’s all I could find on short notice. There’s blankets, heavy cloaks, boots, bedrolls, field kits—I didn’t know what else you might need, so I just threw in everything I could think of.”

  Will opened one of the sacks and saw a brass candlestick on top, complete with a partly burned candle. He could imagine his father frantically searching his quarters, tossing in anything that seemed useful. He stored the bundles in his limnthal and gave his father a firm hug. “Thanks, Dad.” He’d said “father” a few times in the past, but it was the first time he’d said something so familiar.

  Mark Nerrow squeezed him harder, then pushed him away. “What else can I do? It would help if you tell me what you’re planning.”

  Will shook his head. “I don’t want to be seen. If I return soon, where will you be?”

  They were currently in Myrsta, the ruined capital of Darrow, so his father asked, “I could take a walk to examine the repairs. Do you prefer inside or outside the city?”

  “Outside.”

  “How soon? Fifteen minutes?”

  Will nodded. “I’ll be back in fifteen, then.” Constructing a fresh teleport spell, he returned to Emory and Sammy.

  He found the nobleman huddled into a tight ball beside Sammy’s warm pallet. Given the freezing mountain weather and his nakedness, he should have joined her under the blanket, but instead he sat on the corner with only his feet covered. His arms were wrapped around his knees while he squeezed himself into a tight ball to try and conserve his body heat against the cold wind. Will respected the man’s propriety, but under the circumstances, it was beyond foolish. What if I was gone for an hour or two?

  “You’re freezing to death. Why didn’t you get under the blanket?”

  Emory’s teeth chattered violently as he answered, “She’s naked.”

  “So are you!” argued Will. “You could die, exposed like that.”

  “I didn’t want to shame—”

  Striding forward, Will pulled the blanket up, then seized his mentally deficient student by the hair. “Get under there, you idiot! What’s wrong with you?”

  Shaking and shivering, Emory did.

  “She’s warm. Hold her.”

  “But…”

  Will’s eyes communicated his disgust. “Shut up. Is that all you ever think about? I know you’re not going to molest her. Is your brain working?” Emory obeyed, saying nothing, though his teeth still chattered behind closed lips. Will sorted through the things his father had given him and laid out three uniforms on the cold stone.

  Emory started to climb out and retrieve one, but Will barked at him, “Warm up first, fool!” Swearing and muttering, he changed his own clothes for one of the uniforms, then burned what he’d removed. The boots were slightly too large, but that was common in the army. Several strips of cloth had been included. Will wrapped his feet and used the excess to pad the boots until they were snug. I’ve gotten used to tailored clothes and hand-fitted footwear. Glancing over, he gave Emory some advice. “Pay attention to what I’m doing, otherwise you’ll get blisters. I’m sure you’ve never had to wear anything a cobbler didn’t make to fit before.”

  “Is that why you hate me?” asked Emory a few minutes later, once his jaw stopped shaking.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve always wondered, but you finally said it a little while ago.”

  Will was almost finished dressing. “Said what?”