more of myself than I realized fighting that beast."
She hesitated for a heartbeat, biting her bottom lip, but then she nodded back at me. "You did heroic work."
"Come on," I said. "To the horses."
The pack horses whinnied as we approached, and all four animals stepped nervously away from me. Isabelle soothed them, and with a firm hand she finally brought mine to me and held its bridle until I was in the saddle. I reached across to offer her the same favor, but she swung herself easily up even in spite of her injured hand.
She spent a moment considering the pack horses' leads, and I smiled ruefully. "We did not accomplish much."
"I have seen the fortress," she said, thoughtful. I found her gaze fixed on me, and after a moment she smiled. "And I have seen you in battle. That was worth a day's ride."
I shook my head. "That was not worth your injury." I took a deep breath and let it out. "Bring the horses closer." She did, despite their protests, while I mustered my strength. Then I took on my wizard's sight and reached to the earth beneath the scrawny tree. I carved out a block of it with my mind, about the size of a grave, and turned it into a cloud of dust.
My shoulders screamed in protest, but I leaned across to grab the saddlebags draped across the pack horses' backs, and I heaved them hurriedly into the hole I'd made. I got the last one in, then released the earth energy and buried a good tent and a week's worth of rations two paces beneath the ground. I stretched out with the last of my energy and pulled the extra mound of earth into a needle point another pace tall, a tiny obelisk in the shade of the scrub tree.
Then I collapsed forward against my horse's neck. Isabelle said nothing. I could feel her eyes upon me, but she only reached across for my reins and led me along with the pack horses back toward town.
3. Wizard, Warrior, and King
Between Isabelle's aching wrist and my exhaustion, we made slow going on the journey home. The sun was already set when we left our horses in the courtyard, and I had to rap loud and long to rouse the stable master to tend to them.
When he saw the state we were in, he yelled for a stable boy to carry word to the baron and fetch us some aid. "And I'll send word to my lord and his son," he added, bowing his head to Isabelle.
Isabelle stepped sharply forward at that. "His son? Themmichus is here?"
"He arrived not half an hour gone," the stable master said. "All at a rush. His poor horse was in quite a state."
In an instant, Isabelle forgot the stable master and the boy. She caught at my sleeve with her uninjured hand, tugging, but didn't even wait long enough to pull me after her. She darted from the stables, and I had to hurry to catch up.
Across the courtyard and through the great front doors. Down the broad corridor and into the baron's study. She crashed into me in the doorway, already rushing back out while I tried to follow her in.
But she just growled in irritation. "It's Themm. I should have known he wouldn't be here."
"Isabelle," I said, trying to catch her. "It's late and you're hurt. I am anxious to see your brother as well, but it can wait until morning."
She opened her mouth and I saw a dozen arguments flash behind her eyes. But she only said, "He'll be in the larders." Then she was off again.
So we hurried through dark corridors until we spotted the warm, flickering light in the distant kitchens. We heard voices too.
"We know the danger, and we have our plans in motion." The baron's booming voice came calm and clear.
And then another answered. "Plans? You call these plans? You'll bring a doom upon us all!"
Even knowing he was there, it took me some time to recognize Themmichus's voice. It had gained a deeper baritone since I had known the boy at the Academy of Wizardry, but the greater change was the anger. I had never heard him speak with such ferocity.
We entered the room before the baron could answer. Given the expressions both men wore, that was a
Donald Luskin, Andrew Greta