Jemson nodded. “Mari’s very smart. Like you.” He paused. “But right now your choices are limited. The Guard’s going to be looking under every rock, trying to find you. Even though the victims are street runners, eight dead bodies is a lot.”

“I’m planning to go up to Marisa Pines and stay up there a while,” Han said. “But first I need to find out who really did the murders.”

“Master Alister, it is not your job to find out who killed those children,” Jemson said. “I’ve put too much time and effort into your education. I don’t want to be burying you in the temple close.”

“I can’t afford to hide up in the Spirits forever,” Han said. “Unless I find out something, the Guard won’t look any farther than me. It’s hard enough to make a living without bluejackets on my back.” Jemson said nothing, so Han rushed on. “I want to talk to the Raggers, see what they know. If I can make contact with the Southies, I will. Maybe they’ve got new enemies I don’t know about.”

Jemson let go a great sigh. “I assume I can’t talk you out of this.”

“Somehow I have to clear my name. I don’t know how else to do it.”

“All right.” Jemson pulled a cloth bag from under his desk. “This is for you.” He handed it over.

Han weighed it in his hand. “What is this?”

“It’s from Willo.”

“Where is she?” Han asked, looking about as if she might suddenly appear. She had a way of not being seen if she didn’t want to be. He’d kind of hoped she’d take another look at his arm. Maybe a second laying on of hands might heal it up even faster.

“She’s gone back to Marisa Pines. Her business is done. But she says to come and stay with her as long as you like.”

Han frowned. “Dancer was here too.” He looked up at Jemson. “Wasn’t he? I thought I saw him.”

Jemson hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. Dancer was here with his mother. They’ve both gone now.”

“He’s sick, isn’t he?” Han asked. “There was something…It was almost like he was burning up in front of me. Or I’m going crazy,” he added.

Jemson straightened the folds of his robe, not meeting Han’s eyes. “You were rather out of it, my boy. You’d had a hard blow to the head.”

Speakers weren’t supposed to lie, but they could sure talk around a subject.

“So what’s this?” Han asked, struggling with the drawstring one-handed.

Jemson took the bag back and untied it for him. “Willo apparently knows you as well as anyone. She said you wouldn’t come right away, that you’d want to get things settled here first.” Groping in the bag, Jemson pulled out a smaller pouch.