“She was…” Tamin licked his lips. “She was a slave. A Doltari slave. Senera. Her name was Senera.”

Janel’s frown tightened. “She commanded those soldiers. Slaves don’t command soldiers.”

“Relos said … said she was a slave. He brought her—” Tamin winced. “Water?”

Janel bent down next to Tamin while Brother Qown reached for his waterskin. “Who is Relos Var? Tell me about him.”

Brother Qown handed Tamin the waterskin. The baron drank in desperate gulps. Evidently, he’d needed the water, because he sounded much better after. “What have I done?”

“Too much and not enough. But right now, I need your focus, Tamin. Who is Relos Var?”

Tamin struggled to sit, while Brother Qown supported him. “A teacher. My father hired him to—” He hesitated.

“To what?”

Tamin’s eyes shone glassy bright. He took a deep breath. “To cure me of being a witch.”

Someone in the crowd gasped. Another person cursed. Dorna turned around, hands on hips, and faced the crowd. “Be quiet, you lot. You let the man speak or you’ll be answering to me, understand?”

Janel cocked her head, narrowed her eyes. “Witchcraft isn’t something one cures like red fever or pox.”

“I didn’t want to be a witch,” Tamin said, “but I couldn’t … I couldn’t help it. It’s what I am.” He tilted his head up to stare at Janel’s face. “You know what it’s like.”

Janel scowled, glanced skyward as if addressing her gods, then refocused her attention on her childhood friend. “I’m quite sure I don’t. Tell me, then. Tell me how you can be a witch against your will.”

“By being cursed. I’ve always been cursed,” Tamin said, “since I was a child. I would cure animals, cure cuts and bruises. I didn’t realize I was doing anything wrong. Not at first. Then I—” He scowled. “A hunting accident injured my father. I loved my father, so I … I saved him.”

“You poor man,” Brother Qown murmured. “If you’d been born anywhere else, such a gift would have won you a scholarship to the Academy and a sponsorship by the Guild of Physickers. You’re not a witch. You’re a sorcerer.”

Tamin gave the priest a confused, sick look. “I can do magic. That’s witchcraft.”

“I take it,” Janel said, sounding very less than pleased with the entire conversation, “your father didn’t tolerate your gift?”

“He—” Tamin’s jaw tightened. He looked away. “No, he didn’t.”

“Strange, then, for you to be so friendly with the man your father hired as punishment.”

“No, it wasn’t like that. Relos Var is a great man. He showed me I didn’t have to be ashamed. I didn’t have to hide what I am.” His voice dropped, and his eyes flickered toward the fairgrounds. “And when my father—” He didn’t finish.

“What happened to your father?”

Tamin closed his eyes.