He shrugged. “I told you. Magework to save Dorana. Did you remember the azafris? And the susquinel? I know they make you nervous, but they’re vital. I promise.”

“What’s vital, Morgan, is that I don’t end up regretting that I’ve broken the law helping you!”

He smiled, and for an instant looked like his old, familiar self. “There is only one law that matters now, Venette. The law of survival. I don’t see that dying with our hands clean is anything to celebrate.”

And of course, he was right. Why else was she here?

As he took the bag of catalysts from her, he hesitated. “How is Maris?”

“Oh, Morgan.” She could easily have slapped him. “Don’t pretend you care.”

“I do care,” he said, settling the bag on his hip. “I am sorry she was hurt. No child should be a pawn of its parents’ ambitions.”

She wasn’t about to argue the matter. Not on the Brantone road in the middle of the night.

“The Garricks are like the rest of us in Elvado, Morgan. Frightened.” She leaned forward, feeling desperate. “Promise me you can do something about that.”

“I can,” he said, that odd excitement flaring. “And I will. I swear it.”

“How? Morgan, how is it you can keep mageworking when the rest of us are practically crippled? And what are you working on, that you’re so certain will drag us back from the brink?”

His expression was smoothly unreadable. “I still think it’s best I don’t say. Venette… either you trust me or you don’t. I think tonight is proof that you do. And since you do, then trust me. I’m not a perfect man, but in this? I’ll not lead you astray. People are frightened now, that’s true. But the fear won’t last forever.”

She felt sick, she wanted to believe him so badly.

I have to believe him. If I don’t, I’ll be lost.

“Can I rely on you to help me again?” he said. “We run through our supply of catalysts very quickly, and with Sallis Arkley grown so vigilant I must be miserly in the use of my… irregular sources.”

We.

Her fingers tightened on the horse’s reins. “I wish you wouldn’t magework with her, Morgan.”

“Or fuck with her?” He laughed, mocking. “There isn’t one without the other. And Venette, like it or not, you need the other. Without Barl Lindin, Dorana cannot be saved. Thank you for these supplies. I’ll send word when I need more.”

As she sat in the flickering torchlight, listening to his horse’s hoofbeats fade into the distance, mage-mist appeared in the meadow beside her. Her shouted incant dispersed it. A miracle. She watched it dissolve, and then was violently ill over the side of her buggy.