He threw a robe on over his nightshirt and went to the wardrobe, where he pushed aside the neatly hung robes and took a small marble box from a shelf at the back. It was a solid piece of stone until he spoke the command word and the seam under the lid appeared. Removing it, he took out a fine linen handkerchief spotted with dried blood—her blood. Klia had pricked her finger with a dagger and made the talisman for him in Aurënen, when he was recalled to Skala before she was. Blood magic was frowned upon at best by the Orëska, but it was part of the heritage passed down to him through Nysander. With this he could do a sighting, find Klia anywhere, anytime. It was a privilege he was careful not to abuse. Holding the handkerchief between his palms, he invoked the window spell, opening a portal between them over the long miles that allowed them to see and speak to each other.

Nothing in her brief message had prepared him for the state he found her in. A blanket was pulled up to her chest, but her shirt was off, leaving her in only her breast band, bare arms on top of the blanket. Even in candlelight he could see how pale she was, and the bandages on her hands and arms; defensive wounds. Her padded glove was off, and her maimed hand rested on her chest, a reminder of the poisoned needle that had nearly cost her not only her hand but her life. No scar, though, no matter how severe, could ever make her less beautiful in his eyes.

“By the Light, Klia, what’s happened?” he exclaimed softly.

She managed a wan smile. “Two days of fighting without a scratch, then tonight assassins attacked me in my own bed.”

“But how?”

She waved the question aside with obvious weariness. “I don’t have the energy to talk for long. They were Plenimarans, and came after me with poisoned knives. The drysian and Myrhini saved me.”

“You look ill.”

“I am, but it’s passing.”

“What can I do?”

Klia closed her eyes for a moment and licked her dry lips. “Not a thing, except to bear witness, I suppose. I just—I just wanted you to know. Silly, I suppose, but …”

Her words sped his already pounding heart. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but as usual the words jammed somewhere in the region of his heart. All he managed was, “I’m so glad you told me. I wish there was something more I could do for you. I could come there.”

“No, my friend, that’s not necessary, and might raise a few too many questions, since you’ve no business here.” She paused and shook her head slightly. “I wish you could, though.”