Someone was kneeling with her and a wet cloth was pressed to her brow. The coolness and the gentleness of the gesture revived her immensely. She dared slit open one eye: it was the old Admiral, Nok. ‘How did you know that would help?’ she ground through her clenched teeth. ‘A mage named Tattersail told me – long ago.’ She grunted – of course. This man has seen them all.
