“That’s good. That’s good,” he whispered, licking his lips. “No dreams?”

“No dreams,” she promised.

He lay down, eyelids already drooping, and she stroked his brow until he was deeply asleep.

“There. I made it strong, so he won’t wake for hours.” Kordira stood and let Thero take her place.

The wizard felt the man’s pulse; it was slow and even, and his breathing was calm. He rested his hand on Sedge’s forehead and let his mind brush the sleeping man’s. To his surprise, he found that the madness had not followed the poor fellow into sleep. Instead, he saw a pretty, pregnant blond woman and three small children in a garden by a tidy stone cottage. It was a static image, like a painting, but he could hear the sound of the sea nearby.

“Did you stop his thoughts somehow, Doctor?”

“Not intentionally. You can read his mind?”

“I can sense his thoughts,” Thero replied, adding, “but only with some effort. It’s not something I do lightly.”

Taking out his crystal wand, he drew the sigil of discernment over Sedge and watched as waves of pale light spread out from it, then settled like ash over him. It turned silver—a sign that some magic was present. That was no surprise, after what he’d managed to learn last time. Now to find out what exactly it was.

The moment Theo touched Sedge with the wand an unbearable stench rolled over him. He had the fleeting impression of red eyes and a misshapen maw full of yellow teeth before a dreadful force struck him, knocking him across the room and into the stone wall so hard he nearly lost consciousness. He gagged and swallowed hard, trying desperately not to vomit.

Kordira and Micum were beside him at once, and through the haze that threatened to engulf him he was aware of her fingers on his wrist, and the sound her voice, although he couldn’t make out what she was saying.

Sitting up, he blinked to clear his vision, then felt gingerly at the back of his head where it had struck the wall. There was no blood, but he was certainly going to have a headache, and a lump.

“Are you seeing a double image?” she asked, and her voice still seemed to be coming from a distance. More than the blow to the head was affecting him.

“No,” he replied, and his voice sounded loud and hollow inside his head. “My wand …”

“Here,” said Micum, putting it in his hand. “You’re lucky it didn’t break.”

Lucky indeed, thought Thero, smoothing his fingers over it. Such items were not easily broken, but the force of the malevolent energy that had thrown him across the room was much more of a danger.

He drew the same sigil again, this time over his heart, and was relieved to find that nothing evil had transferred to him, though he was still suffering the aftereffects of the attack, for attack it had certainly been.