Abelard raised both hands. “No. Absolutely not. There’s no way I can bring you back to court if their killings are linked to you.”

Well, you’re a cold one, Han thought.

“I will let them know in no uncertain terms that you are under my protection,” she said. “They won’t cross you again.”

“Good.” Han rubbed the back of his neck. “But wait until they come to you about me, all right?”

She scowled. “What possible reason could there be to—”

“I need to teach them a lesson first,” he said. When Abelard opened her mouth to protest, he added, “Don’t worry. They’ll survive. And I won’t do aught that can be tied back to me.”

Lacing her fingers across her torso, the dean gave him a good look-over. “Just don’t get caught. If you do, you’re on your own.”

Han smiled. “No worries.” He stood. “Is there anything else?”

“I meet with my group on Wednesday evenings, here in my office,” Abelard said. “Be here at seven.”

C H A P T E R  S E V E N T E E N

IN MYSTWERK
TOWER

When Han arrived back at Hampton, Dancer met him at the top of the stairs. “Bad news. While we were out, somebody made a mess of—what happened to you?” he demanded when he got a better look at Han’s face. “Did she hit you or what?”

Han blinked at him out of one eye, uncomprehending. “Did who hit me?”

“Dean Abelard. That’s where you’ve been, right?”

Han nodded. “I just came from there. She didn’t hit me, though. I took a tumble down the stairs. Had to go to see Leontus.”

“What? How did you—?”

Han extended the length of rope toward Dancer. “Them that scowered up my room left this tied across the staircase.”

Dancer’s face went hard as amber. “Master Blevins, does he know about this?”

“He knows I fell down the stairs. They were trying to lift my amulet when he come running. Else I might be dead.”

“Who was it?”

“Micah and his cousins. They left in a hurry when Blevins came.” Han swayed, taking hold of the newel post to stay upright. The walk back had nearly done him in.

Dancer stuck out a hand to steady him. “Come on and sit down before you fall down the stairs a second time.”

Han followed Dancer down the hallway to his room. The bed was stripped, the linens piled in the corridor, and the broken bits swept up.

“Thought I’d start on it, anyway.” Dancer gestured to a chair. “Sit.”

Han felt bad allowing Dancer to do all the work, but he was just too busted to argue. “This an’t going to happen again,” he said. “Just so you know.”

“Mmm,” Dancer said skeptically, carrying an armload of Han’s slimed clothing out to the hall. “Are you thinking Blevins might—”

“Blevins won’t do anything. He doesn’t run the whole campus, anyway.” The college town he’d thought was so safe now seemed perilous. “It’s got to be me.”