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said nothing more. He did, however, crouch down and untie Drummer’s ankles. With an exhale of relief, Drummer stretched his legs. They prickled with returning sensation, but at least they were free. His arms didn’t hurt much, mainly because they had gone numb.
    â€œHow about my wrists?” Drummer asked as the guard stood up.
    â€œNo.” The man indicated the back of the wagon. “Go.”
    Drummer stood more slowly this time. His legs throbbed, but he managed a tentative walk. Although he felt clumsy with his arms behind his back, he had a good sense of balance. When he couldn’t earn his way as a minstrel, he did acrobatics. He sang better than he tumbled, but he wasn’t bad at either, if he did say so himself. Right now he wasn’t saying anything, though, given how much it annoyed his guards.
    Three large warriors waited outside the wagon. One had a ring of keys hanging on his metal-studded belt. Drummer couldn’t climb out with his wrists bound, so the guards lifted him down. Drummer wished they didn’t loom so much. Why bother tying him? He was no match for even one of them. Then again, he could duck, dart and run faster than anyone. Just let them untie him! They would see how fast he vanished into the city.
    His three new guards, however, showed no more inclination to untie him then had his kidnappers. One prodded his back with the hilt of a knife. Gritting his teeth, Drummer limped forward in his bare feet. They took him past rows of barrels, all redolent with the fragrance of wine, lovely wine. He inhaled deeply and thought he could get drunk just from the fumes. Eventually, though, they reached a large door with iron braces. One guard unlocked the door and heaved it open, and another nudged Drummer forward. At least these three weren’t as rough as the ones who had kidnapped him.
    The alcove beyond startled Drummer. It had six walls, like a hexagon. Mosaics tiled every surface in sea-green colors, as if he were underwater. The shapes fascinated him—
    The mood spell came without warning. Suddenly he knew what his guards felt. The man with the ring of keys was angry and impatient. Drummer had a sense the fellow wanted to go gamble, though the spell wasn’t specific enough for him to be certain. The burly guard felt thirsty and the third guard missed his wife.
    Drummer blinked. He mostly ignored his spells, for everyone knew men couldn’t be real mages, except for the royal Dawnfields, of course. Centuries of marrying the strongest mages in the land had concentrated the talents until they manifested in the Dawnfield men, too. Drummer had experienced hints of ability since adolescence, but nothing significant, just minor spells like this green one he had made. As the impatient man prodded him forward, he pondered the information the spell had given him about his guards. He wasn’t sure what use it had, but one never knew.
    After they went through the sea chamber, his spell faded. They came out into a corridor framed by arches. He loved the mosaics on the walls. They started with the indigo of the predawn sky. As he walked down the hall, the colors shaded into the blush of dawn, then into a sunrise, and finally the pale blue of morning.
    â€œThis is beautiful,” Drummer said.
    The guard who liked to gamble grunted at him. “They told me you talk too much. Don’t start babbling or I’ll gag you.”
    And you can rot in a crap house. Drummer kept the thought to himself, though. These guards were also a lot bigger than him.
    Unexpectedly, the lonely-husband guard said, “We aren’t going to gag anyone, Kaj.” He glanced at Drummer. With a smile. “And yes, it is beautiful. The whole palace is like this.”
    Drummer was so amazed by the courtesy, he was momentarily without words. When he recovered, he said, “Do you mind if I ask your name?”
    â€œJavelin,” the guard said. “And you are