Alden knelt beside the grandmaster, sealing his wounds and reconnecting severed intestines. The wound looked far worse than it was. Someone not trained in healing would have feared the patient had no chance, but he knew better. No major arteries had been hit so he had plenty of time to repair the damage. After a minute or two he had the majority of his patient’s wounds sealed.

A deep, masculine scream pierced the air. Sounded like Imogen had gotten her man. He wasn’t worried about his partner killing their prisoner. Despite her constant anger, Imogen was a professional. While he wouldn’t put it past her to start the questioning a little early, she wouldn’t do him any permanent harm.

Hopefully.

He’d barely returned his attention to his patient when another scream echoed through the dojo, this one decidedly feminine in character. How in heaven’s name had a nobody like Jonny Linn gotten the drop on Imogen?

Alden looked from his still-bleeding patient to where he’d heard Imogen’s scream. Imogen needed him, but he couldn’t just leave a bleeding man.

He felt it then. The corrupt power of the urn. Somehow Jonny had activated it and used it on Imogen. How had he managed it? The little research they’d done suggested it required a sorcerer to activate the urn. That was why they hadn’t been concerned about Carmen using it.

Damn it! What should he do?

Alden checked the grandmaster’s wounds again and found most of them closed. The main gash in his abdomen still gaped open, but the bleeding had slowed. Some time during his treatment the old man had lost consciousness.

He turned to the boy. “Stay with him. Keep pressure on the wound. I have to check on my partner, but I’ll be back.”

The boy stared at him with wide eyes. Alden put him out of his mind, rushed out of the dojo, and flew up on the wall where he’d seen Jonny jump the gap. Imogen was lying unconscious on the walkway. There was no blood at least. She didn’t have so much as a bruise.

Alden knelt beside her. Imogen’s soul force was still flowing, but her core had been drained. He checked her pulse to confirm what his sorcerous vision was telling him. He found it strong and steady.

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He let out the breath he’d been holding. She’d be okay. He couldn’t guess how long she’d be out, but he felt confident she would eventually wake up.

A rope was tied to the wall, no doubt how their prey had escaped. Alden looked out across the open ground. A figure was running east toward the tree line. That had to be Jonny Linn.

Alden ground his teeth. Everything in him screamed that he should pursue the man, but he couldn’t leave Imogen and the grandmaster. Not to mention it would be the height of stupidity to chase after Jonny before he knew how to counteract the effects of the urn. For now he had no choice but to let the bastard escape.

But only for now. Sooner or later they’d catch him. He only hoped it was before Jonny delivered the urn to Connor Blackman.

Alden conjured a disk under his partner and carried her back to the dojo. He set Imogen on the floor well away from the pool of blood. There was nothing he could do for her right now so he returned to his original patient.

“Is your friend okay?” the boy asked.

“She will be.” Hopefully. “Let’s see about getting your master back on his feet.”

“Yes, sir.” The boy knelt and touched his head to the floor. “I don’t know how we can thank you for saving the grandmaster.”

Alden patted his back. “No thanks are necessary. Looking after the peoples’ wellbeing is our job. I only wish I’d gotten here soon enough to keep him from getting hurt in the first place.”

An hour later he had the grandmaster sealed up, and all his injuries fused back together. He’d be sore for a few days and have a nasty scar, but should make a full recovery. For the last five minutes of his healing Imogen had been groaning and thrashing around on the floor. Her core was almost full and he hoped she’d wake up soon.

His young friend had run off a minute ago and just when Alden was starting to wonder where he’d gone, the boy emerged from a side door carrying a shallow basin of water. He set it beside Alden who gratefully began washing the blood from his hands. One of the advantages of a red tabard was the blood hardly showed.

He’d just finished drying his hands when Imogen groaned even louder and sat up. Her head snapped toward Alden. “He escaped!”

“I’m afraid so. I caught a glimpse of him entering the forest, but lost track of him after that.”

“You didn’t go after him?” Imogen tried to climb to her feet and failed.

“Considering what happened to you and the fact that I had a dying man to heal, I decided pursuit would be too risky. When you’ve recovered and we figure out how to deal with the urn, we can resume the hunt.”

“I’m fine.” She made it to her knees this time before slumping back to the floor.

“Clearly. What do you think about resting for another hour or two then going to talk to the archmage?”

She sighed. “We don’t have much choice, but she’s not going to be very happy.”