“Not yet!” Jadren yelped as a fang caught his collarbone, but he managed to free his arm, slicing the hunter shallowly across the midsection. With a normal sword, the cut would barely have fazed a determined opponent. Fortunately, they’d created a sword far better than normal.

The hunter exploded, raining bits of rotten meat all around—mostly all over Jadren, who was at least evenly coated now. The El-Adrel wizard stood there, panting, bleeding, and looking like he might puke.

“Do you not know how to fight with a sword?” Gabriel inquired politely.

“I thought it was a magic sword,” Jadren retorted, drawing himself up, bristling, and at least no longer looking likely to hurl up his breakfast.

“Magic, not autonomous,” Gabriel explained, not above enjoying the arrogant wizard’s embarrassment. “You still have to stick it in your opponent, which requires a modicum of skill.”

“I’m a wizard, not a foot soldier,” Jadren grumbled.

“You’ll be training with Han.”

“A familiar?” Jadren’s scorn was clear.

“A familiar who can fight circles around you,” Gabriel clarified. “That’s an order, by the way. Meanwhile, we’d better get you cleaned up and healed before the next battle.” He jerked his head at the pond. “Take a dip to get the worst off.”

Jadren’s already horrified scowl deepened as he looked at the green water. “In that? I’ll get infected!”

“Your wounds are already infected with that rotten meat,” Gabriel replied. “Asa can take care of both at once, but you’re not tracking that shit into his infirmary.”

Grumbling, Jadren tossed down his sword and waded into the water, algae swirling around him as he swiped at the goo, finally ducking his head and coming up sputtering. He clambered out again, still swiping at his hair and clothing. Gabriel gingerly picked up the man’s sword and held it out. “Always clean your weapon first,” he advised. He’d cleaned his own immediately.

Jadren gave him a sour look. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

As a matter of fact, he was—as much as he could enjoy anything while pretending that worry for Nic wasn’t tearing him apart. Everyone in the Convocation had so scorned his tendency to use his body instead of his wizardry. Even Nic had teased him about the manual chop-chop method. “Growing up without being able to rely on magic teaches certain useful skills,” he said by way of answering. “Let’s get you to Asa.”

Jadren shrugged off his offer of support. “I can walk on my own.” He did, though slowly, trudging along in stoic silence. Gabriel took advantage of the conversational lull to sweep the surrounding landscape with his wizard senses. He’d detected the arrival of hunters before, but only when they’d gotten too close for comfort. Since then, he’d gotten more skilled at using his senses in this capacity, but he wasn’t at all sure of his range. Still, Alise hadn’t sent a recent update, so the trio must not be about to arrive at any moment.

“Why were there three?” Jadren sounded somewhat plaintive, no doubt from pain and blood loss. “You said you locked one in that trunk. I expected one.”