:I’m not sure.: Dallen pondered that a moment. :If I were to guess . . . if he is looking for something, and he doesn’t want you or Lena to know about it . . . he either thinks the information could hurt you, alter your opinion of him, or makes him feel ashamed. And before you say that whatever it is wouldn’t matter, it clearly matters enough to him to lie about it. So it matters.:

Mags moved out of the noisy dining hall to the end of the hallway where there was relative peace. :I don’ like it.:

:Nor do I. Keeping secrets of that sort almost always leads to trouble.:

:Should I ask him ’bout it?:

Dallen pondered that for a bit. :I think you had better. I will query Nikolas if you could have permission to reveal your role for him to Bear—trade a secret for a secret, as it were. You see if you can find him. Get Lena; she can be of great help.:

And that was when Mags discovered that Bear was missing.

“. . . no, sir, he’s not there.” Lena made a better impression on Healer Praston than Mags had. The head of Healers’ Collegium, from a very highly placed family, had listened to Mags’ uncultured speech, looked at Mags’ short stature, and concluded immediately that Mags was a hysterical and unlettered boy, probably overstressed by the entire situation they were all in. Lena, on the other hand, had pulled on every bit of dignity she could manage, as well as the most cultured accent she could feign, and had the Healer listening and paying attention to her with the first few words she spoke. “He had no reason to leave his rooms for this long, and the three Bardic Trainees who were squeezed in there have been tending the warming furnace for him since yesterday.” She grimaced. “He wouldn’t tell them where he was going, so they assumed it was to see a girl.”

Praston grimaced. “All right, chances are he is fine; perhaps he was called down into Haven and neglected to tell anyone. But we should be sure—”

“Sir,” Lena said patiently, “We are sure. His medicines are all there, his bag is there. He’s very meticulous about organizing his medicines, too; I can tell you that nothing at all is out of place or missing.”

Now Praston began to look a little alarmed. “There is always the chance he was called into Haven for something other than a medical emergency—” He pursed his lips. “Nevertheless, let me raise the alarm. Better we do this and discover to our chagrin that he was only paying a visit to some old patient of his. Young man, ask your Companion to find us a Mindspeaking Herald that can search that way for us.”