It was a bit of a blur after that until Seregil and Micum helped him off his horse and into a tent where a warm fire was burning in a brazier. They laid him on a bed, and sometime later a drysian was bending over him, murmuring apologies as she cut away the makeshift bandages.

“How bad?” Seregil asked, leaning anxiously over her shoulder.

“Some nasty punctures, but not much tearing,” she replied. “The muscles appear to be not too badly damaged.” She held a cup to Alec’s lips and he drank, recognizing the taste of willow bark and poppy juice. Blessed numbness flowed through him as she set about washing and dressing the wounds.

“He disappeared in a dead-end corridor and showed up hours later outside the palace,” Seregil explained as Thero joined them by Alec’s cot. The drysian’s potion had done its work. Alec was deeply asleep.

Thero passed a hand over Alec’s brow, then shrugged. “I sense no sign of magic on him.”

“How is that possible?” asked Micum.

“I’m telling you, he was there, and then he just—wasn’t!” said Seregil.

Thero ran a hand over his short beard and sighed. “I have no idea how it could have happened. I suppose he can tell us when he wakes up.”

“First Mika is attacked; now this. Not a very auspicious start,” said Micum.

“No. Did you see or hear anything else of interest last night, Seregil?”

“Aside from Alec vanishing? No, but plenty of ghost stories from the guards who’ve been stationed there for weeks. There’s definitely something strange going on up here.”

Thero shook his head. “I don’t understand why I don’t feel any magic on him. It does appear that someone translocated him, but there’s no residual imprint of the one who cast the spell.”

“That’s not a common spell. I didn’t think anyone outside Nysander’s lineage could do it, especially necromancers.”

“I’ve never found any evidence that says they can in any of my research. It seems more likely a necromancer would have used a dra’gorgos to capture him, yet I feel nothing of that, either, and my charm should have protected him. I fear this is something else entirely. I need to meditate on this for a while.”

Seregil rubbed wearily at his eyes. “Mystery upon mystery. We’ve certainly got our work cut out for us.”

Alec woke in pain but thankfully in a warm bed. He could feel warm stones tucked in around him, under a pile of blankets. Looking up, he realized he was in a tent. Daylight showed through a gap in the tent flap. Hadn’t it been dark just a moment ago? Memories flooded back as he pushed back the blankets and found both arms and his hand expertly bandaged in blood-spotted linen that smelled of honey salve.