At least the sudden and awkward appearance of the enchanter solved one problem. “I’m glad you’re here,” Jessamine said imperiously, with a sweep of her elegant hand. “I need you to pack up some things for him, enough for a few days, anyway. Food, clothes, and so forth.”

“Why? Where do you think you’re taking him?”

Jessamine sighed, flexed her fingers with their long, painted nails. “If you must know, I’m taking him back with me.”

“What?” It came out almost as a shriek, and the baby threw out its arms, startled. Linda took a step forward. “What do you mean?”

“I’m taking him back to England with me. Don’t worry,” she added. “He’ll be well cared for. I just can’t afford to leave him lying about.”

“What are you talking about?” Linda demanded.

“Since the surgery, he has…appreciated in value,” Jessamine said calmly.

Linda knelt by the car seat, looking the boy over as if she could discover something through close examination. She extended a finger, and the baby grabbed on to it. She looked up at Jessamine. “What did you do to him?”

“He needed a stone, and I gave him one. A miracle. Something no one has ever done before. I saved his life.” She smiled, turning her palms upward. “Only, now he’s Weirlind.”

“A warrior?” It came out as a whisper. “No! I told you! He’s a wizard. He needed a wizard’s stone.” Linda shook her head as she said it, as if by denying it she could change things. “It’s all in his Weirbook. He’s a wizard,” she repeated bleakly.

Jessamine smiled. “Not anymore, if he ever was.

Be reasonable. A wizard’s stone is hard to come by. Wizards live almost forever. But warriors…warriors die young, don’t they?” The last part was intentionally cruel.

Now the enchanter stood, her hands balled into fists. “I should have known better than to trust a wizard.”

Jessamine drew herself up. She was losing patience with this scrap of a girl. “You didn’t have much of a choice, did you? If it weren’t for me, he’d be dead by now. I’m not in the business of providing charity care. I did it because I intend to play him in the Game. And I think you’d better remember to whom you are speaking and hope I don’t lose my temper.”

Linda took a deep breath, let it out with a shudder. “What am I supposed to tell Becka?”

“I don’t care what you tell her. Tell her it died.” The Anaweir and what they thought were of no consequence.