He noticed that the Key of the Heart was warm against his skin. He took it out from underneath his shirt and held it in his left hand. He reached out to the battered man with his right hand, but pulled back before he touched him.

Wait for the prelate, you fool, he told himself. You're not strong enough for this.

He looked out the window again. There was a pool of light on the street. Olio saw a drunk sitting in the street, a flask of wine in one hand and an oil lamp in the other. If he doesn't go home soon, Olio thought, his lamp will run out and he'll never find his way back.

That was what had happened to this patient, he realized. The lamp of his life was sputtering out, and he was so deep into the darkness he could not find his way out. Not without help, anyway.

"B-b-but quickly, Edaytor, or even we m-m-may not be able to help him. Even I can't b-b-bring p-p-people b-b-back from the dead."

He was still grasping the Key in his left hand, and it started to tingle.

Is it possible? Can I do it alone?He reached out again. His right hand rested lightly on the man's forehead. Almost instantly, Olio felt the rush of power from the Key through his body and into the man.

Olio was so surprised he jerked back, breathing hard. How could this be possible? He remembered Edaytor telling him that some magickal items-especially items of great power-took time to attune themselves to their owners. Perhaps the Key had finally done that with him. After all, he knew his mother had been able to wield it without any assistance from a magicker.

He placed his hand on the patient again, and this time let the power flow through him.

He became aware that the air around him was charged with a flickering blue energy, like miniature lightning, which whipped out, disappeared, and whipped out again.

Suddenly it was done. Of its own volition, his right hand dropped from the young man and hung limp by his side. He could not help the groan of exhaustion that escaped his lips.

He let go of the Key, now cold, and used both hands to grip the side of the patient's bed to stop himself from falling over. He looked up and saw that there was still a feint remnant of the blue energy. It surrounded his body like a soft mist. A few moments later it was gone, too.

The patient's eyes flickered open, stared at Olio in confusion. "Who are you?" he croaked.

Olio patted his shoulder. "A friend," he said. "How are you feeling?" Olio could not see any sign on his face of the beating he had received.

"Tired. Never been this tired before."

"Then close your eyes. Sleep. When you awake again, you will be able to go home."

"Where am I?"

"Don't worry about that now. Just sleep."

Olio could see the patient wanted to ask more questions, but his eyes shut despite his efforts to keep them open and he fell asleep almost instantly.

Olio quietly left the room. If he had looked one more time out of the window, he would have seen that the drunk and his lamp were gone.

Dejanus, too, was sleeping peacefully. And naked except for his boots. Hrelth was afraid to wake him. It occurred to him he could slip his knife between the giant's ribs and be rid of him. He was a cruel master, nothing like Kumul who had treated him firmly but with respect.

But Hrelth would do no such thing. He had lost his courage years ago, fighting for Usharna during the Slaver War. It was not the only thing he had lost in that bloody conflict. His own brother had died while standing right next to Hrelth in the spear line, an arrow through his eye. He wished he could forget. Maybe, if he did, he would remember what courage was like, and then he would stick Dejanus good and proper.

The constable snorted, and Hrelth jumped in the air. His feet made only the slightest noise when they hit the floor, but it was enough. Dejanus had swung out of bed with one lithe movement, pulling a dagger out of his boot at the same time. The effect was spoiled somewhat when he kept on swinging and fell on his side. Maybe I could have knifed him after all, Hrelth thought, and cocked his head to look at him straight.

"Your Constableness? Are you all right?" He saw the empty wine flagon on the bed."You've been drinking."

Dejanus growled and lifted himself into a sitting position. "What do you want, you gutter rat?"

"You said you wanted me to tell you when Prince Olio came to the hospice. I just saw him there."

"What was he doing?"

Hrelth swallowed. If there was one thing that scared him more than Dejanus, it was magic. But Dejanus was here, and the magic was out there.

"He was using the Key of the Heart, my lord."

Dejanus blinked. "You saw that?"

"Yes. Through a window. It was dark in the room, and suddenly it was filled with a strange blue light. I saw Olio."

"Was Prelate Edaytor Fanhow with him?"

"I did not see him."

Dejanus stood up unsteadily and reached for Hrelth's shirt. Hrelth stepped back instinctively. Dejanus growled and reached forward again. This time Hrelth let himself be captured. Dejanus pulled him so close Hrelth could smell the wine on his stale breath, and something else as well.

"Are you sure the magicker was not with him?"

Hrelth nodded.

Dejanus looked at him for a minute, and Hrelth wondered if the constable was going to kill him for waking him up. Instead Dejanus just pushed him away. Hrelth stopped when he slammed into a wall, his head hitting it with a loud thump.

"Wait outside," Dejanus ordered. "I'll get dressed and you can take me to the hospice."

Hrelth did not wait for the giant to change his mind. He ran out of the room and downstairs. When he got outside of the Lost Sailor Tavern, he wanted to keep on running, but he knew what Dejanus would do to him if he ran out now. Feeling miserable, he found his lamp and held it close to him in the cold night.

Edaytor arrived at the hospice out of breath, his face covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

Olio was waiting for him in the kitchen, sitting behind a large wooden table.

"Your Highness, I am sorry I am late. Your messenger could not find me at first, and had to visit two of the theurgia before he did." Edaytor tsk-tsked. "I was caught in a conversation with that damned magister of the Theurgia of Stars. Most boring man alive, but very influential..."

Olio was staring in his direction, but Edaytor got the feeling he was looking right through him. He saw the prince was holding a goblet.

"You haven't been ... ?" He could not finish the question.

Olio shook his head as if coming out of a deep trance. He blinked and looked at Edaytor as though he was seeing him for the first time. "Edaytor? When did you get here? And why are you so late?"

"What is in your goblet?" Edaytor asked, not to be put off.Olio held up the goblet. "Water," he said, nodding to a small cask on the table. "Just water. Did you want some?"

Edaytor sniffed the air. He certainly could not smell any wine. "I was just saying how sorry I was for being late ..." He stopped and sniffed again. There was something else in the air, something extraordinary, something he had smelled only once before in his life.

"Is the patient still alive?" he asked absently.

"Oh, yes," Olio answered.

"Then maybe we should start. Where's the priest?"

Olio shrugged. "He was here when I arrived. I don't know where he is now."

"I see." Edaytor left the kitchen and went into the special room set aside for the patients he and Olio were to heal. There was a single man there, young, robust, and sleeping. Sleeping peacefully.

He returned to the kitchen. "That priest has put the wrong patient into the room."

"Actually, he didn't."

"I don't understand. The man in the room seems perfectly healthy to me."

"He is," Olio said levelly.

"I must be getting old or senile," Edaytor said. "I don't understand what is going on here."

He left the kitchen for the special room again. He bent over the man in the bed. There certainly seemed to be nothing wrong with him. Edaytor took a deep breath to clear his mind. And was struck by that smell again, but this time it was much stronger. He quickly looked around him. Where could it be coming from? It was almost as if the whole room was charged with- No. He couldn't have.

He returned to the kitchen. Olio was looking at him almost sheepishly.

"You used the Key by yourself, didn't you?"

"Yes."

Edaytor pulled out a seat and sat at the table next to Olio. "What happened?"

"I'm not quite sure. I was standing over the p-p-patient, waiting for you to turn up, when it just happened."

"It can't just happen, your Highness," Edaytor said. "Magic doesn't work like that."

"M-m-maybe there's more to the Key than just m-m-magic," Olio said.

"Why didn't you stop?" Edaytor asked, his tone abrupt. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

"Why are you so concerned?"

"I've warned you about the Key's power. You know what it can to do to you even if you use it with a magicker's help. Why did you do it?"

"Because I could," Olio said simply.

"Your Highness-"

"I'm tired of this interrogation, Edaytor."

"I see," Edaytor said slowly.

"Are you so angry because you were left out?" Olio asked.Edaytor blushed with sudden anger. "I don't deserve that."

Olio, who realized how hurtful his words had been, blushed then as well. "I am sorry, m-m-my friend. I did not m-m-mean that. But p-p-please understand, I did not have that m-m-much control over m-m-my actions in that room. I knew I could stop it if I really concentrated, but I didn't want to stop it. It seemed as if I was m-m-meant to be there at that p-p-precise time to carry out that p-p-precise task."

The prelate did not know what to say. He was afraid for the prince, for he was not trained in magic and the Key of the Heart was a much more powerful item of magic than any even he had come across before. Perhaps it could influence the prince to such an extent he was no longer entirely responsible for his own actions.

There were footsteps outside, and a moment later the priest entered the kitchen.

"Ah, Father!" Olio stood up in greeting. "I was wondering-"

Someone else came in behind the priest.

"P-p-primate P-p-powl," Olio said quietly. "Delightful."

Edaytor stood up, too. "This is a surprise," he managed to say.

Powl smiled humorlessly at them. "I have no doubt. Please, your Highness, Prelate Fanhow, sit down. You both look exhausted."

The two men sat down. The priest mumbled an excuse and left the room. Powl remained standing, looking carefully at the two men. "I think I deserve an explanation at last," he said.

Olio and Edaytor exchanged quick glances.

"We had always meant to come to you," Edaytor started, "but the right opportunity never seemed to come up."

"It has now," Powl countered.

"So it seems. Your Grace, we-that is, the prince and I- or rather the prince by himself, now-we-him, I mean, now, but before with me or with someone like me-I mean a magicker, of course ... Where was I up to?"

"What he m-m-means to say," Olio said, "is that we entered an arrangement with your p-p-predecessor that allowed m-m-me to heal the dying using in combination the p-p-power of the Key of the Heart and the ability of a m-m-magicker, usually the p-p-prelate."

"I was not far wrong, then," Powl said. "I assumed the Key had something to do with it, but assumed you, your Highness, merely provided it while the prelate here did all the real work."

"What are you going to do now?" Olio asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Will you close down the hospice, or tell Areava about what we are doing?"

Powl's surprise was obvious. "Close down the hospice? Why? And doesn't Areava already know?"

"The hospice was started under the understanding that the prince's involvement would be kept secret," Edaytor explained. "My concern was that the prince would be mobbed if word got out that he could heal the sick."

"It is indeed a wonderful miracle," Powl admitted. "But surely some kind of official office could have been established to deal with that-""Olio cannot perform the healing too often, or he suffers for it"

Powl waited for more information, buy Edaytor would say no more.

"Suffers?" the primate prompted.

"It tires me," Olio admitted.

Powl bowed his head and thought for a moment. "It does more than tire you, doesn't it?" he asked eventually. "Two of my novitiates found you on the street once, remember?"

Olio sighed unhappily. "Ah, that was you in the room that time?"

"Indeed. Don't worry, your secret was safe even from me: Primate Northam refused to tell me what you had been doing. Your drunkenness, however, was a secret from no one except your sister."