So with that tantalizing knowledge in hand, Mags decided he would intercept them on their way to the salle, fall in behind them and watch.

That was just what he did, making himself look as unobtrusive as possible, lurking about the herb garden and waiting for them to come out of their usual door at the Palace at their accustomed time. He sauntered along the path right behind them, close enough to take note of everything they did, and far enough he thought they wouldn’t notice he was there, or if they did, they would just shrug because this was his usual time at the salle, too. And that was when he realized that there was something spooking them. But whatever it was, it wasn’t human. They didn’t even seem to notice him—or if they did notice him, they considered him not worth bothering about, and surely they couldn’t tell which Trainee he was at this distance. But something had them looking over their shoulders with every twig that cracked in the cold, every wren that darted out of a bush. What was wrong with them?

He took a chance, speeded up a little, and walked right past them. Nikolas’ lessons had taught him how to look sharply at people without seeming to look at them at all. If they had been friends of his, he would have been alarmed at their condition.

Their eyes were dark-circled and their expressions harried. Their eyeballs were bloodshot. They looked as if they had not slept well last night or the night before.

They relaxed and acted normally when they finally reached the salle, although their reflexes were a bit off. But if they hadn’t slept, that was probably why. As he worked out with another Trainee, he kept a watch on them out of the corner of his eye. They didn’t challenge anyone today; in fact, they declined partners offered to them, and sparred only among themselves. They tired quickly, they managed to disarm each other without trying very hard. And in the end, they left before he did, not after, looking as if the short session had completely exhausted them. He decided this was enough out of the ordinary that he ought to go tell one of Lydia’s group. And, fortunately, he had a contact right here in the Palace.

So instead of going and having a leisurely luncheon, he grabbed enough sausage rolls for two and a pair of apples and headed for the Royal Kennels.

He had never been there before, so he was at a bit of a loss for where to look first when he got there. The outbuilding was easy enough to find, and he knew that it held dogs, but other than that . . . well if it was anything like the stable, if he couldn’t find Marc right away, probably someone would be able to tell him where the apprentice was.