"I'm betting the blade was poisoned," Carina assessed. "Wormroot, to disable a mage." She laid a hand on Vahanian's shoulder, steadying him. "Since you don't have magic, it's just going to make you throw up." She looked up, and saw Berry, ashen and scared, just within the circle of guardsmen. "Nice aim," she said, and Berry nodded, too concerned to smile.

"Problem is, we won't know who sent the assassin, because he's dead," Soterius clipped.

Vahanian saw Tris glance past the guardsmen, to where the assassin lay. "Not necessarily," said Tris. "Let's get Jonmarc taken care of, and then we'll deal with the assassin."

Vahanian became aware of a growing stiffness that started in his legs and rapidly worked its way up his body. It was getting harder to breathe, as if iron bands encircled his ribs. He grabbed Carina's wrist.

"Can't... breathe..." he rasped.

"Tris—I'm going to need help!" Carina shouted, and Tris knelt beside them.

"There must have been another poison on the blade," Carina said. Vahanian fought his own rising panic and pinpricks of light danced before his eyes. "He's not breathing—Tris, I need time to counter the poison!"

Vahanian had the disquieting sensation that he was watching from outside himself, Tris clutching his arm, Carina trying to push a wad of rope vine between his own clenched teeth. He felt disoriented, as if he were drunk with strong wine, and then a familiar presence brushed against his mind, something that he knew was Tris's power, closer than thought.

Abruptly, Vahanian felt himself back in his body, starved for air. Panic filled him in the darkness, the memory of nearly drowning in the cold water of the Nu River, his lungs burning. And then Vahanian felt his chest rise, awkwardly at first, then in smooth, regular rhythm. He gasped, and his lungs filled with sweet, fresh air.

Carina, her face wet with tears, struggled with the knife. Berry stood behind her, clinging fearfully to Kiara. "Please don't die," Carina whispered as she tried to free the knife. "Please don't die."

"I've got him," Tris said. "And at least for now, his heart and breathing are stable."

"By the Dark Lady!" It was Staden's voice, somewhere behind them. "How is such a thing possible?"

"I could bind soul to body because he wants to live. That is permitted to a Summoner." Tris replied, and Vahanian guessed that Tris was also supplying Carina with energy. "As for the heart and the lungs, they're like a bellows and pump—if he can't move them, it's a small thing to make them move on their own."

"A small thing," Staden replied, awestruck.

Vahanian felt a sharp pain as Carina pulled the knife free and pressed a rag into the wound to staunch the blood. Two grooves marked each side of the blade. "I've never seen a knife like this," she mused, holding up the blood-covered weapon.

"It's a Mussa knife," Vahanian heard Gabriel say, as the vayash moru walked up behind Carina. "The grooves hold thin vials of poison that shatter when the blade enters the body."

Carina looked at Tris grimly. "There was even more wormroot on the knife than what the Sisterhood used on you. If the assassin had hit you—"

"My magic would have been out of reach, with no one to do for me what I did for Jonmarc. I'd be dead."

"How long does the poison last?" Staden asked. "You can't breathe for him forever."

Carina shook her head. "There are antidotes I can try, but I don't know—this poison works so quickly, the victim is usually dead long before it can wear off." She looked up sharply. "Tris—what will you do? You were to meet with the Blood Council tonight."

"The Council does not reconvene lightly," Gabriel observed. "From their perspective, being dead is not an excuse."

Tris looked down at Vahanian, who was unable to so much as nod in recognition. "Call for Taru," he said. "The soul-binding will hold. I've set the breathing spell so that a mage of her power could monitor it, even add to the magic if necessary." He looked at Gabriel. "We won't be long, I hope."

Staden sent a servant to the citadel for Sister Taru. Carina finished her makeshift bandage. "Let's get Jonmarc off the floor and somewhere quieter," Carina ordered She wiped the blood and tears away with her stained sleeve. Soterius and Harrtuck picked him up, one at his shoulders and one at his feet, and hefted him onto a couch in a nearby sitting room.

"T'will have to do—he's too blasted heavy to carry up the stairs!" Harrtuck exclaimed.

"What about him?" Kiara asked. The assassin still lay in a pool of blood on the floor of the great-room.

"Let me get Jonmarc settled," Tris said. "Then, with your permission, Your Majesty, I'd like to interrogate the assassin and see if we can get some answers."

"But he's dead," Staden began to protest, letting his voice trail off as he realized the implications. "Yes, yes, interrogate him. I have to see this. I'll bring Hant with me. He's the best one for this if we've rats to catch."

"I'll sit with Jonmarc," Carina said, and looked to Kiara. "Please, can you bring my bag from my room? And water—I'll need a kettle and a basin, along with fresh rags. He's lost a lot of blood." Kiara nodded, but before she could move, Berry bolted for the door.

"I'll get them," the princess assured Carina as her running footsteps grew distant.

"I'd best leave you to your healing," Staden said, turning for the door. "I'll see you in the greatroom at the tenth bell, to see what you can make of the assassin."

"Tris," Carina said quietly, her voice faltering, "are you sure... sure he's alive? Your power is so strong... I was thinking about that time, by the well—"

Tris shuddered. Vahanian remembered the ghost who tried to possess Carina and how in throwing the spirit free, Tris accidentally reanimated her corpse. "I'm sure," Tris said. He sounded exhausted. "Although we'd better hope the poison wears off before too long, since he'll have to eat."

Vahanian could not see Carina's face, but her voice was ragged. "There's an insect, in the forests of Eastmark, whose sting can make a man lose the feeling in an arm or leg for a day if he's bitten. I'll start with that antidote, see if I can concentrate it. Royster will help me. There has to be something."

Tris laid a hand on Carina's shoulder. "If anyone can figure it out, it will be you and Royster."

Carina found the pulse in Vahanian's neck. Her fingers lingered on his skin, and her eyes had a haunted look. Although Vahanian called out to her with his thoughts, he could not force his lips to form the words, or his body to make any movement at all.

There was a knock on the door. Sister Taru entered. Berry and Royster followed, bearing Carina's satchel, clean rags and both a large kettle and a basin. Tris and Taru conferred in low tones for a few minutes, casting glances in Vahanian's direction, but he could not hear their conversation.

"Show me what you've done," Taru said as she moved to stand beside Vahanian.

"I thought about what you said, back at the citadel—how Carina got me to breathe again," Tris replied. "She said the lungs were like a bellows. And I thought about the spell that stopped Elam's heart. If it can be stopped, it can be kept going." Tris took Taru's hand. The Sister shut her eyes, and Tris moved her hand above Vahanian's chest. "Can you feel the spells I've set? Those don't require a Summoner's magic."

"I can also feel the soul-binding, although I can't make such a working myself."

"It will hold." Vahanian was not sure that the look in Tris's eyes matched the certainty of his voice. "As for the other spells, now that they're set, you should be able to make sure they remain. I should only be gone for a few candlemarks."

"I can do that," Taru replied. She looked at Tris with concern. "Be careful, Tris. Very few mortals are called before the Blood Council. Few that are, return."