“Understood,” Micum replied.

“Very well.” Thero snapped his fingers and the candle flared to life. He filled the basin with water, held both hands palm down over it, and spoke the words of purification of water. At once the water began to glow and released a sweet scent that had always reminded him of lilacs. Taking up the ink and brush, he painted blue symbols on Sedge’s forehead and palms, over his heart, and on the bottoms of his feet; hopefully these would protect the man as the evil magic was drawn from his body. Whispering the second purification spell, Thero dipped the needle end of the pine branch in the water and sprinkled the man from head to toe. The water beaded in glowing droplets across his skin, and Thero continued until Sedge’s body was well covered. Using a birch switch next, he struck him all over, hard enough to raise slight welts. At the twenty-first blow, the droplets lost their light and disappeared.

Chanting the spell of dissipation, Thero broke the switch over his knee and was gratified to see foul brown smoke spiral up thickly from the splintered ends. It swirled around the confines of the magic circle with a fearsome stink, stinging their eyes and making the others cough. Thero purified his crystal wand by passing it through the candle flame and the water, then drew the glowing sigil of summoning in the air above Sedge. The symbol twisted and coiled in the proper patterns and disappeared with a loud pop as it was supposed to. The foul smoke disappeared with it.

So far, so good, he thought with relief. He nodded to the others and they arranged themselves around the table, one on each side.

Thero began the fast, rhythmic summoning chant as he repeated the spargefaction ritual. This time the water droplets sizzled across Sedge’s bare skin then disappeared, leaving tiny points of red light like embers in their place. He waited expectantly for them to assume a form—with Seregil it had been spiders—but instead they went dead, turning to grey ash. Sedge stirred, letting out a deep, pained groan. Only then did Thero realize that he’d left the bag of Kordira’s medicine in a corner of the room outside the circle.

Restrain him, Thero signed to the others, and they held the man still.

Thero traced another intricate series of patterns on the air, trying the summoning-out spell again, but with the same result. Something was wrong. If this was a curse, then the ritual should be working. Either it was something else, or he wasn’t performing it correctly. The latter hardly seemed possible; Nysander had drilled him in the steps, and Thero had an infallible memory.

Sedge stirred again, the whites of his eyes showing under the edge of his eyelids.

He was running out of time. If not a curse, then what?

A terrible possibility came to mind. Grabbing his knife, he cut the circle. “All of you, get out! Don’t speak. Go!”