A/N—Thanks to doodlebug for reading and reviewing (and keeping a sharp eye out for my ever present typos.) And I know I said I'd do this update a week or so ago, but I just moved and had to wait to get internet installed. So anyway, here's another chapter and you get to learn the true identities of half in the prophecy—the others will come later. As always—please read and review (cc and typo corrections are forever appreciated.) Thanks and I hope you enjoy.

Corus, Tortall

Summer 458 H.E.

Gary woke up but didn't remember the dream. He had a vague feeling about it and knew that there'd been a god or goddess in it, so it must have been important. He didn't know which divine being it had been or what they'd wanted. Alright, Gary thought, filing the dream away in his mind and opening his eyes. He'd fallen asleep at one of the basement tables so got up and stretched. The candle clusters that he'd left lit were burned down halfway. He grabbed one to carry up stairs with him and put the others out. He climbed up stairs to the kitchen, skipping the step that creaked. The kitchen was dark, and the clock in the common room said it was after midnight.

Gary mounted the stairs up to his room then stopped, cocking his head and listening. He thought he had heard a horse in the courtyard. He waited and the new bells on the kitchen door rang loudly. He blew out his candle as the sound bounced off the inn walls. So it was someone who hadn't been to the inn since the beginning of the summer, Gary thought. The rest of them had learned to open the door without making noise. Gary knew he should wake up his father, but instead he crouched at the foot of the stairs, peering through the darkness at the door into the kitchen.

The intruder was wearing a dark cloak, so he couldn't see her face, and carrying a single candle. She stopped in the doorway and looked quickly around the common room then headed for the stairs.

"May I help you, ma'm?" Gary asked, standing up. She swung the candle around so its light flickered over him.

She forced a smile. "You must be little Gary." She said. "I'm looking for Roald." Gary frowned. "He should have come here several days ago." She added and there was unease clear in her voice.

"It's not clear what you are talking about, ma'm." Gary said.

"May I speak with your father, Gary?" She asked, though Gary sensed an order in it. He nodded and darted up the stairs, not really needing a light to get around the inn. He knocked twice on his father's door, paused, knocked once, paused, knocked once more and waited. His father opened the door and looked down at him through sleep-blurred eyes.

"Gary," he said, surprised, "it's the middle of the night."

"There's a woman downstairs asking for you." Gary the Elder frowned then followed his son back to the common room. The woman had lighted Gary's candles and removed her cloak. She sat at a table with the flames and shadows dancing across her face.

"Thayet!" Gary the Elder exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" He sat down next to her. Young Gary sat down on the stairs where he could listen without being in the way.

"Where's Roald?" Thayet demanded.

"Thayet, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Roald, my son."

Gary leaned forward. "What?"

"He was a prisoner in the palace. I didn't know until he was escaping with the help of one of the Gennature guards. He came to my room, Gary. I told him to come here to get help, but that was six days ago."

"What was he in prison for?"

Thayet swallowed. "Murder, but he'd been a bond servant, too. The king has been furious since he escaped. They were going to hang him. Are you telling me he never came here? They had started looking for him before he even left my room, but I know they got out of the palace. They got wounded, but they did get out."

"Don't worry about it, Thayet. Gary, wake up people for a search and send a runner for Jin." Gary the Elder ordered without turning away from Thayet. Young Gary scrambled to his feet. "You should get back to the palace, but…"

Gary woke up Buri, Dom, Neal, and two of the waiters that lived and worked at the inn. Buri went straight down to the common room to see Thayet, but the rest of them went to the stable to saddle horses.

"What's going on, Gar?" Dom asked once they were within the stables.

"We've reason t'believe the eldest Conté prince is in Corus." Gary answered with a smile. "We're goin' t'go look for him."

"The seven of us are going to search all of Corus in the middle of the night?" Neal asked skeptically.

"Nope. The network will be on the lookout for him in the city or on the road. We'll prob'bly search the forest, maybe the hills, though they're more open and less likely."

Dom chuckled. "Imagine that, Neal. The kid's got a better sense for strategy then you do."

Neal glared at him but was cut off from a retort by Gary and Buri's entrance. They rode quickly but casually for the Royal Forest, avoiding Gennature patrols. When they reached the forest they spread out and settled into the saddle for a long night. They searched into the morning, weary of palace guards seeking the same quarry, and went back to the inn shortly before noon. They ate and checked in with Jin, who reported that the network had also been unable to find anything.

"This is crazy." Dom said when they set out for the forest again at dusk, this time with food and camping gear. "He's got a six day head start."

"But if he's wounded then he won't be traveling much or fast." Neal retorted.

They found the Gennature guard who had helped Roald escape hiding in some thick brush. He was so well hidden that they only found him by almost stepping on him. They dismounted. Neal and Dom crouched on either side of him. Gary stood off to the side to watch and listen. The man had a deep, badly bandaged cut on the side of his head just above his ear. He was also feverish and unconscious. Neal and Dom stayed with him and the rest of them fanned out, looking for any sign of the prince.

Gary found some green spidren web, fairly fresh, in a small clearing. There was also pressed grass, broken twigs, and blood. At one end of the clearing the thick brush hid the lip of a steep hill, dropping down into a ravine. Amongst some broken brush at the top was a rusty dagger. Gary yelled over his shoulder for the others then started down the hill, slipping and sliding as he went. There was a clear path where something big and heavy had rolled down the hill and blood splattered the rocks and shrubs. The man Gary found at the bottom of the ravine barley resembled a human. His clothes were in unsalvageable tatters, and he was covered in dirt, cuts, and blood. Even Gary could recognize that his left arm was broken, and there was something wrong with his right shoulder. His left shoulder was nothing more then torn flesh and bone, and underneath the wounds he was horribly thin. Gary couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. Gary heard others scrambling down the hill and whipped around. Blake, a waiter, was leading, followed closely by Neal and Buri.

"Gods, is he alive?" Blake exclaimed when he reached the bottom.

Neal stumbled to a stop and bent over the man, cursing fluently and loudly. Buri, too, stopped and looked closely at him. "It's the prince, for sure." She said. "Neal?"

"We need to get him back to the inn. I need a table and bandages and splints and willowbark for that other fellow and…" Neal cursed again. "He's a wreck."

Gary the Elder and the second waiter had arrived by then. Working as fast as they could they built a stretcher and somehow managed to carry the prince back up the ravine. When Dom saw him his eyes got huge.

"It's late; we could probably gat him to a sick house without too much trouble." Buri said. "No offense, Neal, but he needs more care then we can give."

"It's still risky." Gary the Elder said.

"No." Neal almost yelled. They all turned towards him.

"Neal—" Dom and Buri began together.

"First off, most healers wouldn't even look twice at him," he gestured to Maron. "And second, we might be able to convince a healer to risk it if we told them he's a Conté, but the Gennature watch the sick houses closely, especially if they know he's wounded. Any healer who treated either of them, if it was ever discovered, would be killed."

"That's barbaric." Blake said.

Neal shrugged. "That's Corus."

"Neal, you're crazy! I may not actually be a healer, but I know you couldn't treat either one of them by yourself. You and Uncle would have a hard time doing it." Dom yelled.

"We can get help, just no sick houses." Neal said. He glanced down at the two men on precariously built stretchers. "Get them to the inn alive and I'll take care of the rest. I'll meet you there." Neal swung onto his horse's back and kicked it into a canter, disappearing into the trees. Gary wondered briefly at the commanding change that had come over Neal when the issue was something he knew about.

They rigged the stretchers to the horses and set out for the inn as fast as they dared, always watchful for patrols. They made it to the inn safely and carried the wounded men down into the basement, laying them down on the tables. Dom did what he could for them, cleaning out and dressing their wounds and making willowbark tea. When Gary glanced at the still and battered form of Prince Roald a very clear, strong thought came forward in his mind. Roald is the rightful king. Gary frowned. I guessed that already. He told himself. Yes, but you hadn't guessed that he was a bondservant for a man who sells antique swords and shields. Another part of his mind said. Gary looked around self-consciously, but no one was paying attention to him. He pulled the prophecy book off its place on the shelves. Before he could open it Neal came in with an older man and a young woman. At the moment Gary knew, without any doubt, that Neal was the green healer and that that's what the dream had been about. In some inaccessible part of his mind, he now knew what every word in the prophecy meant, which also meant he was the boy of books, and he had three of the six.

When he left the others, Neal cantered and trotted as the underbrush would allow. Even as he ducked under a low branch his mind was back in the clearing going over the prince's wounds and what he could do. The right shoulder was dislocated and that was easy; Dom could do that. The horse lurched under him, jumping oven a fallen log, and Neal gripped his reigns tighter. Before the horse's feet hit the ground Neal was back to his thoughts. Right ankle—twisted—also easy. Broken ribs—at least three—not too bad. Left arm and shoulder—there was the problem. His arm was fractured in at least two places—the radius shattered. That would take a lot of magic and even so…The shoulder was torn to shreds and filthy. It had to be kept from infection.

The trees disappeared and Neal kicked his horse into a gallop. Now Maron was a different story. His surface wounds weren't as bad, but the cut on his head was already infected. The fever had a strong hold and would be hard to fight off—more magic. Also, he'd have to get some sort of nourishment into both of them, especially the prince. He was a big man, but he looked like his meals had been sporadic at best for a while now. If he got a fever it would probably take more than Neal had to save him. That brought him back to infection.

"Ho, there, halt!" Neal almost didn't register the command. He pulled back on the reigns, and his horse's hooves slid on the cobblestones as it tried to stop quickly. Neal turned around and faced a patrol of six city guards. He cursed under his breath, his mind working fast. "What are you doing here, and what's the hurry?" Their commander asked.

"Midwife." Neal said then started to stammer out an explanation. "My wife, she's pregnant—delivering—I'm fetching the midwife." He gestured ambiguously. "I think she might really need one. Please, sirs."

"Go about your way." The man said and backed away. Neal spun his horse back around and kicked him into a gallop again.

Infection, infection, infection…he tried to go back to cool, calm, and analyzing, but he'd lost his train of thought. Now everything he knew about medicine was tumbling around in his head and he couldn't control it. He leaned over the horse's neck, willing it to go faster. It was in that fashion that he almost missed the house. He pulled the winded horse to another abrupt stop and slid off. He ran up the steps, leaving the horse standing, head down, in the street, and pounded on the door.

"Almen, Ahrei!" He yelled, not caring who else he woke up. He saw lights go on inside, and a moment later Almen opened the door. Ahrei stood behind him on the stairs, a dressing gown wrapped around her shoulders.

"Neal, what is it?" Almen asked. "What happened?"

"Please, I need your help—both of you." Neal said. Almen nodded.

Too long—it took them too long to put on cloaks and boots and saddle horses, including a replacement for Neal's, and then they were galloping down the dark city streets again. When they reached the inn's courtyard faint color was growing on the horizon, and the city was bathed in the colors of dawn. Neal led them into the kitchen, not even bothering to be careful of the bells, and down into the basement. Dom had done a find job of turning the study into a hospital, and the unique sent of willowbark permeated the room.

Ahrei gasped sharply when she saw the two wounded men. Without anyone saying anything, the three of them joined Dom in carefully cleaning the men's wounds. When the basics were done, Almen took charge of Maron to stabilize his fever. Ahrei and Neal grimly set to work on Roald. When Neal got to the left arm Almen joined him and together they struggled to rejoin and regrow the bone. By the time they'd done all they could, Neal was dizzy and blurry-eyed. Ahrei was pale and even Almen looked asleep on his feet. Their patients were cleaner and bandaged, but it was still too early to tell. Dom watched Neal with a worried expression, and the others had fallen asleep around the room, young Gary over an open book. Neal dropped into a chair, put his head on the table, and promptly fell asleep.

Neal woke up, and he was in his room with the sun streaming through his window. He still felt drained, so he knew he'd only been asleep for several hours, not days. It took all the determination he could muster to get out of bed and get dressed. He made his way, slowly and stiffly, down the stairs, through the common room and kitchen, and down into the basement. Ahrei was there, sitting in a comfortable chair between the tables that functioned as beds for Maron and Roald. She looked up and smiled when he came in.

"There's no change from last night, or I should say this morning." Ahrei said. "Gary the Elder and Buri went to the palace. My father is still asleep, and I sent Dom to bed as well. Young Gary is in that little room. He told me he was sorry for getting me involved in this, but I must be honest, I'm not sure what he meant."

Neal looked over at Roald. "Anything about him strike your attention?" Ahrei looked over him with slow, gray eyes.

"His body took quite a beating, but he's got a strong spirit under all that. He's very handsome, if you ignore the dirt and cuts. He's been branded as a bond servant and a murder, and there's something else, something odd about him." She looked back to Neal.

"His name's Roald—Prince Roald of Conté." Neal said as calmly as he could.

Ahrei didn't blink. "What?" She asked.

"The man whose life you helped save this morning is Prince Roald of Conté, the rightful king of Tortall."

Ahrei looked at Roald again and her eyes got large. "He—why didn't I see it before?"

"Spell." They both turned at the sound of young Gary's voice. He stood in the doorway of the side room with the book, The Principles of Sight, tucked under his arm. "A powerful mage put a spell on him so people wouldn't see him for what he was, or something like that. Of course, there are all sorts of ways to get around it." Gary sat down at the foot of Roald's table and set the book on it. "Oh, and I figured some things out last night. Roald is the rightful king, I'm the boy of books, and you're the green healer."

"What?" Ahrei and Neal said together.

"In the Gennature Prophecy."

"I'm not in any prophecies." Neal said.

"Yes you are."

"How can you know that for sure?" Neal demanded.

"Just trust me," Gary said, "and the prophecy says so." He added. "Face it, Neal, you are the green healer. I've got to go; one of my father's agents is coming." With that Gary left, bounding up the stairs with all the energy of a young boy.

Neal felt suddenly even more tired. He sank down and, since there were no chairs around, ended up on his knees on the floor. Ahrei put a cool hand on his cheek. "You have a bit of a fever." She said mildly. He nodded. She guided his head down to her lap and ran her fingers through his hair. "You should be back upstairs in bed. Papa and I can handle this for now."

"I couldn't sleep up there knowing…"

Ahrei continued to stroke his hair. "Then sleep down here." She said, and Neal closed his eyes.