“Squire Lesley fed his to his pig,” she offered, and the Count and his cousin laughed.

“Practical as ever, is Lesley. All right, we’re ready. Ivar is yours now, and I’ll start readying others to follow. Supplies as well, of course.”

“I’ll be coming back with you, on the excuse that I’m testing Healers. In fact, I’ll go over as soon as you get the permanent Gate up. You’ll need a Healer over there, and I’m very much looking forward to seeing a new land.” She rubbed her hands together in satisfaction. Delia was fascinated. “Oh, you’re surprised? I’m all packed up with everything I can’t live without. We’ve taught just about everybody in our lands to have a jump-bag or two, stuffed with everything vital to them, in case of fire. Without them knowing it, we were training them for the Plan. All I need to do at the moment is steal a couple of Gerther’s mules, and we’re off.”

“Gerther is happy to give them to you. Shall we go do that, while the light is still clear?” the Count suggested. Since by this time Delia was eager to get back and find out if Isla had heard anything from Kordas, she all but leapt to her feet.

The ride back was rather more fun, if a bit slower, than the ride out. The mules set their own pace, and there was absolutely no point in trying to make them go faster. They were mules, after all.

Alberdina had been almost as many places as Ivar, though never outside of Imperial lands, and was full of stories. Stories that were much different than Ivar’s, of course; she was a Healer, not an explorer. Her stories were about people, rather than places.

“But I’ve never been near the Capital and I never wanted to be,” she finished, as they came within sight of the Valdemar manor. “That place eats up Healers and spits them out sick and exhausted, and it takes them a year or more to recover, during which they are useless.”

Delia cast her a warning glance, but it was clear that Alberdina was not concerned with hiding her opinion of the Capital in any way. “The place is unhealthy, and we all think it has to do with the magic. Whether it’s just too many spells tangling up with one another, or the wrong kind of magic, who can say? Only another mage, and they aren’t talking. Or maybe it’s all the bad temper there. Everyone silently at everyone else’s throat. We’re sensitive to that; can’t be a Healer without also being an Empath. Fortunately for me, no one there wants a loud-mouthed female Healer who won’t keep her opinions to herself.”