The clearing itself was fairly large—a couple of acres surrounded by trees and thick undergrowth on three sides, backed by a steep, rocky hill. On the left side of the clearing was a corral and a small stone building built into the hill. It was large enough to shelter half a dozen animals in bad weather, or at least keep feed and gear dry. Also built into the hill was a one-story stone building. Between the building and the corral was a small wooden structure that probably contained the privy hole.

Jared couldn’t summon up enough interest for whatever else the clearing might contain. As soon as he figured out how to rekey the illusion spell on the gate, he was going to spend his thoughts and energy on nothing but getting dry, getting fed, and going to sleep.

The wagon passed him, its wheels almost scraping the stone posts that marked the clearing boundary. The other slaves followed behind the saddle horses.

As he passed Jared, Blaed said, “I put the pole back in place,” then pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

Jared’s breath huffed out in an impatient sigh as he waited for Garth who was, for the first time, trailing behind everyone instead of roaming ahead.

“Come on, Garth,” Jared said, waving the big man forward.

Garth stopped two yards away from the stone posts, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His head swiveled in the opposite rhythm as he kept eyeing the posts.

“Come on,” Jared snapped.

Garth raised his hands, then let them slap against his thighs. He seemed to want to say something, but he made no sound. Finally, he let out a low, distressed cry and bolted past the posts.

“Hell’s fire,” Jared muttered, watching Garth trot toward the others. The big man stumbled a little every time he looked anxiously over his shoulder at Jared.

Jared turned his back on the group and stared uneasily at the stone posts with their rounded tops. Were they supposed to be a rogue’s idea of a bitter joke or a blatant symbol of male strength?

He didn’t have time to decide because, seconds later, he realized Garth must have understood something about the posts that he hadn’t.

A psychic storm swiftly began to surround the clearing. Jared felt it hum along his nerves and scratch at his bones, felt the pressure of power that would build and build until its destructive release tore through anyone who wasn’t strong enough to withstand the onslaught.

Hell’s fire. There must be a spell set in the posts to trigger all the defensive spells around the clearing if some key wasn’t used within a certain amount of time. But what key? Where? That rogue bastard hadn’t mentioned this. Had the omission been deliberate?