“Calm down, now,” Thero said, rocking him a little. “You’re safe. I’m here. You’re not in any trouble.”

“I couldn’t help him,” Mika sobbed, voice muffled against Thero’s coat. “I tried. I really did!”

“Help who?”

“My friend. We were playing and a man came with a cudgel and—”

“You were attacked?”

“Yes. My friend tried to stop him. He hit him and he fell down.” Mika let out a shuddering sob. “I couldn’t help him. I was angry—and then the red came out, and it stopped the man and—”

After that Thero couldn’t get any sense out of him, so he held Mika until the boy cried himself to sleep, then placed him back against the pillow and pulled the blankets up to his chin. He tried to recall what he’d been like at that age. Had he been so tender, so hungry for Nysander’s approval, before his own arrogance and pride drove a wedge between them? He felt a stab of empathy with his old master, thinking how painful it would be if Mika took that path.

Sitting down by Klia on the other bed, he cradled his head in his hands. “I shouldn’t have left him. I thought he’d be fine on his own. He’s always so responsible.”

“It’s not your fault, love.”

“Of course it is. I’m his guardian. What am I to tell his parents?”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “Children have accidents. Nysander didn’t keep you wrapped in wool batting, did he?”

Thero sighed. “I was never hurt like this.”

“What do you think happened?”

“You know as much as I do. Sounds like he ran afoul of some local.” He rubbed his eyes. “Seregil and the others are waiting for me.”

“Send word to them and stay with Mika.” Klia kissed his cheek. “I’ll go see about something to eat.”

When she was gone Thero conjured up a message sphere and sent the little light speeding off to the city, then pulled the chair over to Mika’s bedside and sat down. The drysian had done her work well; the boy was breathing easily, and color had stolen into his cheeks.

The red came out. Perhaps losing control of his innate magic had saved Mika’s life this time, if not the other boy’s.

Klia returned with two servants carrying enough food for four people. She sat on the carpet with Thero and ate.

“You seem to have recovered,” Thero noted as Klia started on a second slice of bread stuffed with mutton.

“I told you, I’m fine.” She gave him a wry look. “If you’re going to fuss over me like I’m some helpless maiden, I may have to rethink our relationship.”

“You are the least helpless person I have ever—” An uncontrollable yawn took him. “Sorry. I think the day and the wine have worn me out.”