Abi ran to him, sheathing her daggers, as Stev picked himself up. She seized Korlak’s elbow to steady him, with one eye on the crow in case it took the notion to attack. “Magician! What happened? What did you see?” she asked urgently.

Korlak began shaking, as if he were standing in the middle of a blizzard.

Then his eyes rolled up into his head, and he dropped to the ground.

Or started to. Stev caught him before he got too far.

The crow startled up into the air as he started to fall and landed on Abi’s shoulder, making pathetic, whimpering sounds. “Let’s get him to the nearest tavern and get something into him,” Abi suggested.

“Good idea. I can carry him, he probably weighs less than you do,” Stev replied. “Lead the way.”

Unconscious people carried out of the Green Dog Pub were not an unusual sight, but an unconscious person carried in was something else again. They managed to attract a small group of well-meaning drinkers, some of whom were drunk enough that they weren’t all that far from resembling Korlak and none of whom had any useful suggestions.

Except one.

The cook came bustling out of the kitchen, made Stev put the Mage on the floor, pulled his legs up and draped them over a bench, then patted his cheeks until he moaned and opened his eyes. “Get him up slow,” she said, brusquely. “I’ll be back.”

She bustled out and bustled back in again with a wooden cup. “Drink,” she ordered the Mage, raising him into a sitting position and shoving the cup under his nose. Obediently, he drank.

“Brandy?” asked Stev.

She snorted. “Hot honey-water. Like’s not he ain’t et since breakfast, if then.” Satisfied that the Mage was not going to die in her pub, she bustled back out again, looking remarkably like a busy hen.

Abi and Steve took his mug, then helped him up into a sitting position on the bench.

The crow hopped back onto his master’s shoulder and rubbed his beak against Korlak’s cheek, crooning.

Korlak huddled in his seat, leaning on both elbows on the table, mug clasped in white-knuckled hands, sipping and shivering. One of the serving girls turned up at the table and slapped down a plate of stew with a fat chunk of bread and butter on the side in front of him. Abi paid for it without a second thought and began coaxing him to let go of the mug, pick up the spoon, and eat.

The crow hopped down to the table and began helping himself, looking up at Korlak and helping himself to more, as if he were trying to show the Mage what to do. Finally the sight of his pet eating seemed to rouse him from his terrified stupor, and he did as Abi asked, slowly spooning stew into his mouth. Then he put down the half-empty mug of honey-water and tore off small bits of buttered bread to give to the crow, who looked anxiously into his face before devouring the tidbit.