Oreg held up his hand as he approached the hearth, and light reflected from his curved palm and lit the little house as if the roof had come off and allowed the sun into all the dark corners. He tossed the ball of light up and it hovered above him while he pulled the furs off of the woman to get a better look at her.

In Oreg’s light, her cheeks were flushed with fever and her eyes were sunken. But then, even at her best she had never been beautiful—not by conventional standards.

“Tisala,” I said, stunned.

Oreg stopped his examination to peer with momentary interest at her face. “So it is,” he agreed mildly. “Good thing they took her knife away from her.”

“Do you know her, my lord?” asked Atwater as if it surprised him not at all. He’d gone from thinking I was as brutal and irrational as my father to expecting miracles ever since that night last winter when I found his son.

“Yes, I know her,” I said. It didn’t seem enough, so I added, “I fought with her at my back.” And there wasn’t a higher compliment any Shavigman could give.

Atwater nodded, content that his lord was still odd, worldly, and all-knowing.

The last time I’d seen Tisala, her curly dark hair had been shorter than my own, but now it hung in lank tangles down to her shoulders, making her skin all the more white.

Oreg’s hands were gentle, but when they touched her left hand, her whole body stiffened and she moaned.

“She’s been tortured,” he said matter-of-factly.

I nodded. It was hard to miss: both hands, left worse than right, both feet. No telling what other damage had been done: She wore an old pair of trousers, patched and baggy, and a shirt whose arms were too short over the rest.

“They hadn’t had her long,” he said at last. “She’ll live, if the fever and the putrefaction don’t kill her. But we ought to take her to the keep, where my medicines are.”

Magic, that meant. I’d told Oreg not to tell people exactly what he could do. He couldn’t really cure her, but he could kill the infection and let her body heal on its own—which was more than any other mage I’d ever heard of could do. It would be safer for him if all of Shavig didn’t start whispering about how powerful the Hurogmeten’s wizard was. Better by far to avoid all notice so we didn’t get another Kariarn looking for power.

I took one of the larger furs and rolled Tisala in it. Then I scooped her up and stood, forgetting how low the ceilings were, so I rapped my head a good one.

Atwater winced in sympathy.