Indeed, he had known it would come since he recovered enough to think clearly. Though he had not expected the archmage himself, there was no mistaking that immense strength. The archmage’s replenishing touch across distance had the healing warmth of sunlight. Tam all but groaned in relief as his pain and leaden exhaustion dissipated. He sat up: one did not address the master of the Temple while supine in bed. <Why?> He cut to the essence. <Why release me?> <Why not? You told us no more than the truth. You are not our enemy . . . and we need you to do something for us.> <I won’t leave Fejelis unguarded.> He put force of feeling, if not force of magic, into the statement. He showed the archmage a swift succession of impressions: waking to the reports of bullets, hearing talons scrape the metal roof overhead, sensing that vile aura, hearing Orlanjis cry out and Jovance shout, and then the painfully intense burst of matter manipulation. He was aware of the archduke’s gratification at the last, but he could not have concealed Jovance’s presence, even if he had tried.
