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predicaments like this.
Amerdale sonned him, a fast, firm train of pulses, and declined to talk theology. What did you do to my
mama? she demanded suspiciously.
Ish gathered his syrupy wits, thankful that Hearne s daughter was not a stroppy little boy, ready to back
the demand with fists and weight. Of course, a chatty little girl brought her own problems. The child had
witnessed everything that had happened, and would no doubt comment on it to her father.
Who unless he was much mistaken had no idea his wife was a mage.
Well, he d deal with it then. Your mama needs to sleep, Ish said. She was helping me help your
papa. If Balthasar Hearne had the wit to realize a healing had been worked on him, Ish could always
claim to have drawn on Telmaine s vitality. That should be enough to annoy a doting husband into losing
command of logic.
You re not a doctor, she declared with the absolute authority of the small.
No, but I ve cared for people with hurts like your papa s. Most of whom died, Ish privately noted.
Papa is going to be all right.
I hope so, Ish said truthfully. He and Telmaine had managed to seal off the bleeding from Hearne s
spleen, and reduce some ugly bruising on his kidneys and lungs. Hearne s broken ribs were now merely
cracked, though they wouldn t hurt any less for it. They d even managed to shift much of the internal
hemorrhage back into his bloodstream. And the assailants had left his face and head alone, presumably
so he could speak. Whatever the reason, Ish was relieved, since he doubted he and Telmaine could have
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addressed a head injury, even given his experience. Balthasar Hearne was still in a precarious condition.
And right now, Ish himself couldn t have cured a fleabite.
Are you going to make these men give back Flori?
Yes, Ish said, starting to feel slightly beset he hadn t much experience asserting himself against small
children. I am that.
Ami, spoke up Floria White Hand from the other side of the paper wall, it is daytime just now, so I
am searching for your sister. Would you like something to drink?
She considered that. I m thirsty, she allowed.
Wait a moment, Floria said.
A glass was poured; there was a pause, and then the door to the passe-muraille was slid open and
shut. Amerdale spared him another scowl before she deigned to accept the offering. She was truly thirsty,
judging by the way she slurped at the glass. Ish managed not to lick dry lips in envy. He suspected he
knew what was coming. His conscience niggled a little; he doubted that Floria s troubled her at all.
Amerdale thrust the glass at him. More, she demanded, and abruptly dropped onto her bottom. She
pulled herself over onto all fours and crawled back to her mother s side, where she settled, head down,
rump up. Bracing his useless arm, he eased over to nudge her onto her side, retrieve a fold of Bal s
blanket, and tuck it around her. She must have her mother s temperament, he decided. His ill-formed
sense of Balthasar was of someone more diffident though with some sinew to him, to have withstood
that beating without breaking.
Is she asleep? Floria s voice said after a moment.
Sound asleep, Ish said, stirring up his muddy wits again to something approaching fluid. I ll take a
glass of that, if you would, minus the sleeping draft, but with anything you have for pain. I caught a sap on
the clavicle, and the healing s done it no good. He didn t need to explain further; as a Lightborn, she
knew the physical penalties of magic.
He heard another glass being poured, and wondered how one weighed the recklessness of taking a draft
from a premier Lightborn assassin against that of aiding a powerful untrained mage in a critical healing.
Knew you knew Hearne, here, he remarked. Didn t know this was a twinned house. Nor did he
think that one of the Lightborn Prince s Vigilance would assent to share a paper wall with any Darkborn.
It s of very long standing: five generations. We don t advertise. Less controversial that way, and safer,
though in truth the danger in a breach is more to Bal than myself. She hesitated. I heard him speak. Is
he
What I can, I ve done, Ishmael said. He ll take more healing, or be a long time laid up, but he ll do till
sunset.
Thank the All-Mother, Floria said quietly. Baron Strumheller, you have earned my abiding gratitude.
Balthasar Hearne is one of my oldest friends.
If he had heard those words spoken in such a tone by a Darkborn woman, restrained as the tone was,
he would have said there was more to the relationship than that.
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I d rather hear an explanation, he said, making his way back to the passe-muraille . This isn t a
simple robbery.
If I had one, di Studier, I d gladly give it, and let you take it back to your Lord Vladimer. As it is, you
can take back only a mystery.
Retrieving the glass from the lighttight cabinet, he settled his back against the leg of the heavy armchair.
What is t you know?
While he sipped and felt the infernal little sun slowly dim she told him of the birth of the two sighted
infants, of their mother s attempt to murder them and then Bal, and of her escape. Balthasar s sister, the
healer mage and midwife, had taken the children away last night, and this night two men had arrived to
threaten Balthasar, and then to beat out of him the children s whereabouts.
What in perdition did you do t drive them off? Ish said, setting aside the question of whether he
believed such an extraordinary story.
Pricked the wall with a needle and shone through a torch. Light travels in straight lines. So that
accounted for the burns across the men s faces. I risked killing Bal, I know, but he d have been dead
anyway. She paused, controlling her voice, he thought. Now, your turn, she said. Did you draw on
Telmaine? It certainly sounded like it.
Yes, he said, having considered and readied the lie. I had to. I couldn t use th spicule as well as I
should. Not got th strength.
She sighed. Baron Strumheller, if it worked, then no apologies are needed. Bal will understand the
magic but not the drawing he has very few of the prejudices of his class and Telmaine will likely
forgive the drawing but not the magic she has all the prejudices of hers.
M work s been worse met, Ish said, in a dry tone that she would surely misconstrue. Now, going
back to these children never heard of such a thing.
Not even amongst the Shadowborn?
Unusual, he thought, to hear a Lightborn mention the Shadowborn. The Lightborn had abandoned the
Borders some five hundred years ago; no one knew why. The best explanation he had heard was that the
aura of Shadowborn magic made the Borders uninhabitable. Even he, weak mage though he was, could
sense the chilling, repellent aura of it, if the source were close enough.
He reviewed the parade of monsters from a quarter century s Shadowhunting. Sighted
creatures birds, dogs, lynxes, and th like don t sonn. Most Shadowborn sonn some don t. We ve
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