from the look of that bump.” Olem gave him a weak smile.
“Don’t be a fool.” Tamas struggled to get up again. His leg burned and he broke into a hot sweat. He gave up. “Send a missive to Lady Winceslav. Tell her Ryze is innocent of all accusations.” He paused. “Bring me Brigadiers Barat and Sabastenien.”
“I’ll send a man,” Olem said, heading for the door.
“No,” Tamas grunted. “Get them yourself. I don’t want either of them slipping away. Take a squad with you. And on second thought, don’t tell anyone about Ryze.”
“But if he’s innocent…”
Tamas closed his eyes. He’d need strength for what lay ahead. “I’ll deal with that later. Dismissed.”
“Right away, sir.”
As soon as Olem was out the door, Tamas let out a gasp of pain. His leg had stiffened up in just a few minutes. It throbbed when it didn’t hurt, and when the lances of pain worked their way up his leg each time he moved it, he wished he’d let it throb. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair.
Tamas forced himself to think. Why had Ryze faked his kidnapping just to tell him about Barat? Tamas wished he had Adamat’s gift.
His son!
“Olem!” he yelled. He waited a few moments. Olem didn’t return. He yelled again. A guard poked his head through the door. “What is it, sir?”
“Kema, is Olem gone?”
The soldier nodded. “Took off just a minute ago. Looked like he was going to give someone the pit of a time.”
“Hand me a pen and paper.”
Kema fetched a fountain pen and some stationery from Tamas’s desk and brought it over. Tamas sketched out a quick note. “Catch up with Olem. Have him do this before the other task.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kema was gone again in a moment, leaving Tamas alone, when his leg began to throb again. A finger of black powder and he’d feel no pain… if he could use it. He couldn’t even enter a powder trance with the gold star in his leg.
“Where’s Petrik, damn him?”
“Right here.” The doctor closed the door quietly behind him. He carried his medical bag in one hand, his coat over the other. He examined Tamas through a pair of spectacles.
“Pulled me away from a rather good game of bridge,” he said. He looked peeved, but he usually did. The man had been drummed out of most of his postings as a public and private doctor because he completely lacked a bedside manner. What he lacked, however, he made up for in brevity and skill.
“My apologies,” Tamas said. “I’ll just suffer more, if you’d like to return to it.”
Dr. Petrik paused. He shrugged, and turned back to the door.
“Have you no concept of sarcasm, you ancient bastard?”
Petrik gave Tamas a long, annoyed look and came to his side. He waddled like a man of twenty-five stone, though he was as thin as a rail. He sat down next to Tamas and removed his glasses. He examined Tamas’s face and head through a monocle.
“Some light scratches,” he said after a moment. “Nothing to be concerned about. Looks like you had a concussion.” He snapped his fingers in front of Tamas’s face, looked into each of his eyes. “You’re fine.” He took Tamas’s leg—none too gently—and lifted it into his lap. He removed the linen wrappings and gave it a clinical look.
“You’ve seen a doctor already,” he said. There was an edge to his voice.
“Yes,” Tamas said. “It was the physician with my captors. He’s the one who put the leg back together.”
“What did it look like before?”
“I don’t know. I was out for the whole thing.”
“Lucky. Looks like you shattered the whole leg. He did a good job, whoever he was,” he said grudgingly.
“I want you to take it apart.”
Petrik blinked up at him. “Say that again?”
“My leg. You need to take it apart.”
Petrik set the leg down gently. “You hit your head harder than I thought.”
Was that a hint of concern in Petrik’s voice? No, Tamas must have imagined it. “The surgeon inserted a gold sliver before he closed the wound.” Tamas paused, swallowed. Even saying it made him nauseous. “I can’t use my magery.”
Dr. Petrik returned his spectacles to his face. He took them off, then put them on again. He tucked one fist up under his chin, glaring at the leg. “You’re mad,” he said. “I won’t do it. If you leave it, a cyst will form. That should close the gold away from your bloodstream and let you use your powers again.”
“Do it,” Tamas said. “That’s