So he and the others made a show of packing up and moving back down the road to Mirror Moon as the soldiers moved out. Once at the estate, however, they gathered what they needed and prepared to steal back to Menosi.

“I have to stay here?” Mika asked in disbelief as he watched Thero rearrange the materials in a trunk that night.

“I’m not leaving until tomorrow.”

“Master, what if you need me?”

“Then I will send for you,” the wizard replied. “We’re going to be doing something dangerous and beyond your skills. This is not a punishment, Mika. You simply have to accept that even though you are my apprentice and I trust you implicitly, there will be times when you can’t come with me, and times like this when I can’t tell you why, for your safety and ours. That is my wish now, and my order to you: stay here until I return.”

Mika nodded, picking unhappily at the linen binding the splints on his broken arm. “I understand, Master. I just wish—”

Thero patted his shoulder. “It was the same with my master when I was your age, Mika. When you’re older you’ll understand better, and by then you’ll be powerful enough to come with me. In the meantime, I need you to heal and be well. I shouldn’t be away more than a few days, and Klia will be with me.”

“If anything happens to Alec, you won’t be able to get to Klia.”

“That’s right. And if that’s the case, I will send for you. But not before.”

“Yes, Master Thero.”

“I need you to make fresh arrows with shafts that haven’t been used,” Thero told Alec that night as they sat by the fire in the empty library with Seregil and Micum. “Do you have any white fletching?”

“No, only red. But Nysander used white that day, didn’t he?”

“You’re in luck,” said Micum. “I saw a brace of swans hanging in the kitchen. I’ll go get what you need.”

“I’ve got the tack, but I’ll need some fresh shafts,” said Alec, rising to follow him. “I’ll go ask Dorin.”

Thero fought off another crushing wave of fear as he laid out the materials he needed on the table: a blue inkstone, brushes, water, a handful of golden sesters, and the precious silver foil. Not fear of what lay ahead, but that it wouldn’t be enough.

“We’ll get her back,” Seregil said from the chair by the fireplace.

Thero nodded grimly.

“You know how to bespell Alec’s arrows the way Nysander did? How confident are you?”

“I know the spells. I just haven’t had occasion to use them.”