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sword clanged on the ground next to her. “Sir,” she hissed, reaching for it. “You need to send it back or use it.”

Aidan had grabbed her hands and was holding them pressed against her. He was trying to send the sword back along with everything else piled up in the room, but it was proving difficult. He hadn’t realized that the toll on his mind had been as taxing as on his body.

Footsteps and shouts sounded up above, and human Pulls drew near as Aidan Dismissed the sword, the saddlebags, the saddle, and that was as far as he could get before the guards came rushing in, followed by Dewhurst.

“What was all that….” The lord stopped short at the sight of the patera, wood, and odd belongings strewn across the floor. He swore. “Where did you get all this?” It was then that he noticed Slaíne, who was still trapped in Aidan’s arms. “What the devil? How did she get down here?” Dewhurst struck the nearest guard across the face with the man’s own dirk. “Search through this – this filth and see if the maps are there.”

Aidan had a strange impression of Dewhurst. He looked furious, his face red and his nostrils flared, but there was a hollowness in his chest, an ache as he stared at Aidan and Slaíne, the latter of whom had gone rigid. Aidan didn’t know what to make of it, until the man’s feeling disappeared completely and was replaced with icy terror, though his expression remained livid.

“Who turned on me? Who dared touch my prisoner without my consent?” So, he’d spied the bruises. He shook from head to boot. “She’s going to kill me.”

The guards were on their hands and knees searching through everything Aidan had accidentally Summoned. They said nothing, not even as their one bleeding comrade got down on his knees as well, dripping blood everywhere as he searched.

Blood. It occurred to Aidan then why he was able to guess what Dewhurst was feeling and thinking so easily: his blood was in Dewhurst’s system. What other advantage might this give Aidan? He did not know, but for now he settled for latching onto Dewhurst’s thoughts in what he hoped was a subtle enough way as not to draw attention.

Get the maps, the impression of Dewhurst’s thoughts pressed into his mind. Get the maps, and it won’t matter if we slaughter Ingledark here and now. I will be her equal, at least. Absently, Dewhurst patted at his pockets. There was a presence in there, a mix of iron and another metal. Difficult, that.

Aidan could try to Call what he guessed to be the key, Summon the sword, and run the man through while Slaíne unlocked his shackles. He explored the key’s Pull and repulsion as Dewhurst continued to pace. No good. The metals were too closely bound. If he gave it a Tug, the non-iron part might respond, but the iron part would stay in Dewhurst’s pocket, and Dewhurst would know what Aidan was attempting. If only he could fool Dewhurst into handing the key over….

As if in response to Aidan’s silent wish, Dewhurst removed the alloyed key from his pocket and held it out. He stared at it for a moment, his face void of expression. With a blink, it was back in his pocket. Dewhurst looked befuddled for a moment before shaking his head and turning back to his guards and swearing. “What’s taking you so long? Have you found it?”

The bleeding guard stood whilst applying pressure to the wound on his face. “There’s nothing, sir. Well, not nothing.”

“Well, what is there, then?”

The other men stood, too, their faces red from exertion. “Well,” said one, “there’s lots of hay. Which means he has a horse.”

Dewhurst’s face turned as red as raw meat. “What the devil sort of good is that going to do me?”

The man quailed and took several steps backward. “If he’s got one, why did he not ride in on it?” The question was raised on the end of the sentence, the man obviously stressed and tense.

“Who the ruddy well cares? I’m looking for paper, not horses.”

Aidan released Slaíne, after whispering in her ear, “This is our chance. Wait for my signal then approach Dewhurst.”

She gave him a confused look but nodded.

Aidan closed his eyes and homed in on Dewhurst’s thoughts. They weren’t as clear as they had been moments earlier, but Aidan latched on to them anyway and tried directing his own wants and ideas toward the man’s mind. He’d never controlled a human being before, but he had controlled objects, and he used the same intuitions and principles. Hearing Dewhurst complain of a stomachache in his mind, Aidan gave his thoughts a Push as he would Push a piece of paper, lightly and delicately.

Dewhurst’s hands went to his middle as he towered over his guards and continued barking at them.

Aidan held on to Dewhurst’s thought and pretended as though he could see it. Put your hands lower, in your pocket again.

Dewhurst obliged.

Sweat formed on Aidan’s brow, and his head was beginning to ache. Now, slip out the key and hold it out behind your back. His head screamed at him to stop, but he knew he might never get a chance like this again. With all of his mental might, he Pushed the thought at Dewhurst until, at last, the man slipped a hand into his pocket and again produced the key. Behind your back. Put the key behind your back.

Again Dewhurst unwittingly obliged.

Aidan nudged Slaíne, who rose to her feet and sneaked up behind Dewhurst.

Still holding Dewhurst’s mind in his hands, Aidan used the last of his strength to will Dewhurst to release the key and then forget about having done so.

Fortunately, Slaíne guessed what Aidan was up to and managed to catch the key before it could fall, and returned to Aidan before one of the guards noticed her. She was back beside him in a blink. “Now what?” she asked.

But Aidan couldn’t answer. All

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