“Don’t kill them,”advised the quiet voice in the back of my head where a small part of me hid from the drugs and magic.

I left the men where they lay and curled up in my nest with the cool stone reassuringly firm against my back.

More guards came and removed their limp comrades. After a while Jade Eyes brought in a small metal brazier and set an herbal concoction burning.

“Something in the smoke,”said my voice. But it wasn’t able to coax me out of my safe cubby to knock the fire out. Finally it left me alone.

The smoke was acrid and at first it stung my nose. But after a few minutes the terrible fear seemed to dissipate. The straw became a warm blanket.

When someone came for me, I allowed him to pull me to my feet and support me when the floor heaved and buckled.

I was brought to a large chamber lined with shelves of pottery. In the very center of the room was an odd piece of furniture, waist high and flat like a table, but heavily padded with straps hanging from it.

Jade Eyes was talking quietly with the king’s archmage, Arten. I didn’t know him personally, but anyone who’d been to court knew who he was. Truthfully, it took me a moment to recognize him without his colorful, glittery court robes, for, like Jade Eyes, he wore only plain black.

“Be careful,”said my secret voice. Even though I was no longer frightened, I was glad it had not left me.

“Ward,” said Jade Eyes, “how are you feeling?”

I smiled and spread my hands out. “Better.”

“I’m going to help you stay that way, all right?”

“Careful,”murmured the voice, but no tinge of worry or fear could touch me while I suffered the effects of the herbs they’d burnt in my cell.

Jade Eyes led me to the table and indicated that I was to lie on it. Something about the straps frightened my little voice, but I was anxious to please the man who would help me, so I ignored it. I lay still while a collar was affixed to my neck to hold my head. They pulled and they prodded and strapped until I couldn’t move at all.

“Ward,” said Jade Eyes at last, “I’m going to help you—but first I want you to help me.”

That sounded fair. I tried to nod my head, but had to settle for talking.

“Yes,” I said. It was hard to get the word out, just as it had been after my father had hurt me very badly. Fear began to tighten my belly at the memory. But the man had said he would help. I remembered that and relaxed again—though I couldn’t remember why I needed help.