Disclaimer: I don't know if I actually have to put this here, but I will. They're not mine and they never will be, no matter how many poems I write to Numair.

XxXxXxXx

Talk to me Daine….

Daine's eyes snapped open. "Numair?" she said confusedly.

"Dreaming about the traitor, Wildmage?"

Julian Staghorn was standing in the open doorway. His guards were just outside the door. "I just thought you'd like to know, your precious Numair can't even find you. You're mine, Wildmage."

Daine cringed. Her head still ached. "What's the point, then?" she asked tiredly, sitting up on her bench. "If you captured me to lure Numair here, what good is it to keep me hidden?"

The blond man gave a short, harsh laugh. "When I want Numair here, I'll simply send for him," Staghorn said. "No, Wildmage, I don't want him here. Not right now. Right now, I just want him to suffer."

Daine felt something flutter at the edge of her mind, something familiar. "So what? You're just going to let me starve to death down here while you watch?" Hello? she called with her magic. Can anyone hear me?

"That would be far too fast and far too boring," Staghorn sneered. "No, I have plans for you, Wildmage. This is just the beginning."

Who is that? Daine heard in her mind. It was People! She had reached someone. Maybe because the door was open? Did it disrupt the dampening spells? She needed to keep Staghorn here, keep him talking. But her head still ached, and the effort of talking with her magic was draining her.

"Good," she said shortly. "That just gives Numair time to find me." My name is Daine. I don't have time to explain, but I need help. Can you help me? Her invisible friend had a quick, darting mind. Daine was sure she was talking to some kind of bird.

Staghorn stalked across the room and grabbed a handful of her hair. He wrenched her head back so she was forced to look at his face. The searing pain almost caused her to lose her connection with the People. How can I help you? I don't even know where you are. Or what you are. Or who you are. Except Daine. What's a Daine?"

"That traitor will not find you," Staghorn spat. "He is nothing but a fraud. Nothing."

Daine glared back. Daine is my name. Do you have a name?

Flicker, came the response, and Daine was sure she was talking to a bird.

"Numair is one of the greatest mages in the world," she said harshly in response. "He was a better mage than your brother and he'll prove he's better than you." Find Numair she thought desperately. She sent images of Numair, of Alanna, of Kitten, of Pirate's Swoop, everything she could think of. Find Numair, Flicker. Bring him here. Please. It's important.

If there was a response, Daine did not hear it. Staghorn had flung her to the stone floor by her hair and was screaming incoherently at her. He aimed one booted foot at her ribs, then turned and stalked out, slamming the door closed behind him.

Daine felt the loss of her small connection to the People as keenly as she felt the aching in her head and the pain in her ribs. Please Flicker, she thought. Find Numair. Just find Numair.

XxXxXxXx

Numair is one of the greatest mages in the world. He was a better mage than your brother and he'll prove he's better than you.

Jonathan and Alanna looked around sharply at where Numair was standing, scrying mirror in hand. "That was Daine," Alanna said, though no one needed confirmation.

"It was just a flash," Numair said. "I couldn't see anything. And it's gone."

"What was she saying?" Jonathan asked. "About a brother?"

"Did Staghorn have a brother?" Alanna asked.

Numair thought, trying to recall his conversations with Tristan Staghorn when they'd been at school together, whether he'd ever said anything about a brother. "Julian!" he finally exclaimed. He looked up at the assembled group, which now included George again. "Julian Staghorn. He had just started at the university when I earned my black robe. I remember him being with Tristan on one or two occasions. He was just a child though."

"That was a long time ago," Alanna said softly. "He wouldn't be a child anymore."

"What does he look like?" George said gruffly. "What do you remember, Numair?"

Numair shook his head. "Not much. He was just another child. And I was focused on my studies. I think he might have been blond. Looked a little like Tristan, I think."

"I'll start making inquiries," George said. "A Carthaki in these areas is going to draw some attention."

Numair started. "He's not Carthaki," he said suddenly. "They were from Maren."

George grinned. "Even better." He left again.

Numair looked at Jonathan and Alanna. "When I was at the university, there were... rumours... that there were rooms, underground, that would suppress all magic." He shook his head. "I don't know if they were actually there, or just a myth, made up to frighten rambunctious little boys into obedience."

"Your teachers threatened to throw you in dungeons?" Alanna said incredulously. "That explains more than it doesn't."

He ignored her. "There are lots of ways to hide magic, to dampen it. If Daine is somewhere that is blocking her magic, it would explain why we can't find her."

"Is there some way to find one of these rooms?" Jonathan asked.

Numair paced back and forth deep in thought. "If I was close, yes. I could reach out with my Gift. If they act as I expect, it should reflect my magic back to me... Like shouting in a cave," he explained to the assembled group. "But without knowing where to look..." He trailed off.

"That's where I come in," George said, returning. "Apparently a foreigner has moved in just on the northwest edge of Fief Tameran. Doesn't have much to do with the locals, but there's rumours that he's keeping slaves."

"Maren is a slave-holding country," Alanna said.

"Find Raoul," Jonathan said briskly to a nearby servant who had brought more food and water. "Tell him to meet us in the Great Hall. And Thayet and Buri." He turned to the group. "If he's keeping slaves, we have grounds to take a look. We can send the King's Own, and a group of Riders. I think all of the First were here for the wedding."

Alanna was speaking into a fire in her hand, giving instructions for hostlers to start preparing horses.

Kitten chirped from her place beside Numair, tugging at the mage's tunic; she'd refused to leave his side since they first discovered Daine missing. "Not to worry, Kitten," Numair said, patting her head. "We won't leave you behind. Let's go find Daine."