“Adaira?” he croaked, opening his eyes a sliver.

Sidra touched his brow. “No, it’s me. Sidra. Can you tell me what happened, Jack?” She prepared a cloth to wipe the dried blood from his face and fingers. His nails were broken and jagged at the edges. That’s when she knew it hadn’t been a fight but magic that had done this to him.

“The music’s cost was more than I could pay,” he said, wincing as she cleaned his nails. “It’s the same as before. I’m just . . . exhausted.”

“Jack.”

“Yes, I know,” he said. “Don’t scold me, Sidra.”

Sidra held her tongue and worked quickly, full of questions. She made herself focus on the most pressing matter, which was healing Jack. But other thoughts were simmering.

“Can you give me something that will make me hale?” Jack said. He had opened his eyes fully now, watching Sidra prepare his tonic.

She paused, glancing at him.

“I need to appear strong for Adaira,” he explained. “Give me your most potent tonic.”

“If I do that, Jack, it might take you longer to heal,” Sidra warned. “I can give you something that will make you lively, but it will wear off within hours and might make your other symptoms worse.”

“I’ll take that chance,” he said. “Because the truth of the matter is, there’s currently a Breccan in my mother’s house, who may or may not be dead.”

“He’s alive.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Jack said, and Sidra was pleased to hear his dry humor had returned. “Or else I might have forfeited my life for killing the Heir of the West.”

Sidra’s hands froze. “He’s the heir?”

“Yes,” Jack groaned as he sat forward. “He came to steal Frae, and I thwarted him.”

An icy finger traced Sidra’s spine.

It’s him.

The man she had just helped carry into Mirin’s house was the one who had assaulted her on the hill to Graeme’s. Who had stolen Maisie.

“Sidra?” Jack said, concerned.

She didn’t know how long she had been sitting beside him, lost in an eddy of thought. Jack was frowning, watching her closely.

“Moray was the one who attacked you that night,” he whispered.

She hesitated, but nodded.

“That bastard,” Jack said.

Sidra focused on her herbs, preparing one of the brews she had created for the guard to keep them sharp and aware during long nights. “Here, Jack. This will help with your exhaustion and a few of your aches and pains.”

He accepted the cup and drank.