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into position, pinched the ends of a couple of Balat’s fingers and watched how quickly the color returned, then sat on the side of the hearth so as to not block the heat of the fire, “I thought to visit an apothecary in a couple hours and pick up some supplies. Perhaps leave word that there are patients that require more than conventional treatments. A Talented healer is needed for a few of our people here. Approaching the University directly might be dangerous… without knowing where their allegiances may lie.” Balat shifted to a more comfortable position as he considered Cooper’s words, “You think the University played a role in the raid of the Guild house?” Cooper shrugged, “Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. My thoughts are that you don’t allow an organization that powerful into your home until you know they pose no threat to you. I’m hoping that I’ll find a freelance healer through an apothecary, there are several midwives that are better-than-average healers.” He stood and moved away from the fire and asked, “You’ll be able to tend the fire for a couple of hours?” Balat glanced down at his arm, “The throbbing will keep me awake.” Cooper nodded, “Your hand is warm, your pulse is strong and color returned to your fingertips almost immediately after I pinched them. That means that blood is still flowing normally. No major blood vessels have been cut or blocked. It might help for you to prop your arm up higher, as long as that doesn’t make your hand get cold or pale.” Balat’s eyes grew bigger, “You sound like a healer.” Cooper shook his head, “I learned all about how the body functions in order to damage it. It stands to reason that some of that knowledge can be applied to healing. I have no skills as a healer.” As Cooper stepped away to roll up in a blanket, he wondered if that were actually true. The aspects of how he might apply his Gift were largely untested. As he dropped off to sleep, he’d decided it would remain untested for the foreseeable future. The certainty that Channeling would result in undesired attention far outweighed the uncertainty of what might be learned.

*****

It was before dawn when Iona was awakened by a pounding on her door. She draped her robe over her shoulders and pulled the door open. Yoren was already dressed and waiting, “I’ve sent a messenger ahead. We’ll stop at the University gate on the way out to meet the mages. The University professor was adamant that we include them in any future searches and I am only too willing to accept their help. I hope this causes you no distress…?” Iona emerged from a brief daydream to reply, “As long as they remember to keep their Talents in check. Their power in such close proximity tends to obscure the traces that I’m trying to detect.” She had been thinking about how subdued and quietly brooding the Spymaster had become in recent months. His involvement in the Guild raid had been minimal, as had been any credit. The Lord General had frequently commented that the combined might of the Army and the City Watch had been the pivotal deciding factors in the utter destruction of the Guild. While Arkady might not have political aspirations of his own, he certainly used this point to humiliate the Spymaster on several occasions. Iona knew enough of Yoren’s desires to realize that he wasn’t satisfied with being merely the Royal Spymaster. He coveted the wealth, power and respect that comes with a noble title. She knew that he viewed her as simply one more possible means to that end. She was also astute enough to recognize that he’d just as quickly discard her, if that would serve his purposes.

She still had the axe that she’d recovered from the warehouse in the Waterfront district. She kept it hanging from her belt, though the imprint had almost entirely faded. She enjoyed the odd looks she received from passers-by. Her, an obvious scholar or mage, with an axe at her hip. In her pouch she carried only two copper coins. His copper coins that she’d recovered from a pool of blood near a corpse of his making. She extended two fingers into the pouch and touched the coins. They had grown shiny from the repeated contact, but the imprint was still strong.

When they reached the University, the mages were waiting and Felis was among them. He stepped forward to greet her. She felt pleased to see him and said, “Why am I not surprised to see you here, prepared to join us?” Felis shrugged, “I tend to hear about things, and this Gifted lad is of interest to me. I have been studying Talent development for a few years now, and from how you describe it, this Gift is a complete anomaly.” Yoren was speaking to the mages, then all turned to face her. Yoren inquired, “West, is it?” Iona turned, as if to catch a scent on the air, “West, and north. But there already isn’t much to go on.”

They were passing through The Heights, nearing the edge of the city, when they witnessed a cluster of nearly a dozen guards and City Watchmen in a heated argument. Most of them were simply glaring at each other but two of them were in a shouting match. As they drew nearer, it was obvious that one of them clearly outranked the other, but such was the fervor of the lower ranking man that he scarcely seemed to pay heed to it. As they got close enough to hear the words, the higher ranking Watch Captain could be heard to say, “Stand down, sergeant or we’ll be adding insubordination to your growing list of reprimands, not least of which is incompetence and gross dereliction of duty!” This seemed to calm the other man, but only slightly, “Sir, we are trying to faithfully

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