Several minutes later, Mac was sitting on the edge of an examination table, the makeshift bandage and the remnants of his sleeve removed. His wound had been carefully examined, gently and efficiently cleaned, and then a salve had been applied to it to dull the pain, the young (very young) healer had said, before she stitched the wound.

He watched her, curious, as she prepared a needle and thread. He'd seen healers work, and he'd read a little of their art in his grandfather's books.

She seemed very, very good, in spite of being so young.

Not that he thought that was a bad thing. He didn't think it was unnatural, or meant she had to be witch. Even if she was, which he doubted (if she was, she'd surely use magic to do things like thread a needle or grab a jar of salve off one of the neatly-ordered shelves), it wasn't as if that was a bad thing either.

(The suspicions, the rumours, that'd followed him, hadn't only been because of the strange things he could do, the strange things he could build, the fact that the got excited by weird things. It'd also been because he was, apparently, far too good at things he shouldn't be, for his age – too good at mathematics at school, too quick at reading, too talented a smith for his stage of apprenticeship…)

(After having gone through all that, plus with how his grandfather had raised him, he could never think it was a bad thing.)

Bozer and Riley emerged from behind the screens they'd been firmly ordered behind, to change into dry clothing, immediately, by the healer, after she'd visually inspected them for signs of injury or illness. Both of them wore clean, dry clothing, a shirt and pants for Bozer, a dress for Riley, all simple, unadorned, loose clothing, meant for sleeping.

Immediately after, Jack poked his head back around the doorframe and addressed the healer.

'Cage put together some dinner for 'em, Beth, I set it out next door, are Bozer and Riley good to go eat?'

She looked up, inspected Bozer and Riley once more, then nodded, and Jack motioned to the two of them to follow him with a little movement of his head.

Both of his friends glanced over at Mac, not wanting to leave him alone in this strange place, but he nodded, and after another moment, Bozer and Riley followed Jack out the door.

As she finished stitching his arm with small, neat, even stitches, Mac glanced down at the healer.

'You're very good, Mistress Bethany.'

The proper form of address for a healer, at least in his experience and from what he'd read in books, was Master or Mistress Healer, if one didn't know their name or wanted to use a more formal form of address, Master or Mistress whatever-their-name-was otherwise.

He supposed that he was a guest and he was in a fancy castle and if she was the castle healer, she was probably far fancier and more proper than any town healer, but to Mac, it just felt deeply weird to call a girl who was surely younger than him, no matter how skilled she was, Mistress Healer.

And he really wasn't one for societal conventions anyway.

She snipped off the thread, looked up at him, smiling, and shook her head with a laugh.

'Call me Beth, please.' She picked up a neatly-rolled bandage, and another jar of salve, which she proceeded to smear on his forearm. 'This is to prevent infection.' She paused for a moment, then continued, a bit hesitantly. 'And…for my age?'

Mac shook his head as she bandaged his arm, smiling.

'That just makes your skill even more impressive. And call me Mac.' He paused for a moment, hesitating. 'This…this is probably rude, please forgive me, but…how old are you?'

She smiled wryly.

'I'll forgive it, coming from you, since...' She turned away to grab some vials from one of the shelves, and while he couldn't see her face, Mac swore there was something a little sad in her voice, though he couldn't fathom why. '…we're probably more-or-less the same age; I'm almost seventeen.'

His smile widened.

'I turned seventeen a few weeks ago.'

She smiled as she turned away from the shelves, poured a mug of water from a jug on another, smaller table, then held out the three vials she'd plucked from the shelves to him, followed by the mug.

'The first one is to fight infection, and the second is for the blood loss, and the third is a painkiller.' He gulped them down, making a face (medicines, universally, tasted awful), which got him a sympathetic, slightly amused smile as he downed the mug of water. 'Unfortunately, my mother and I haven't found a way to make them taste better, I'm afraid…' Still swallowing the last of the water, Mac could only shoot her a questioning look. 'My mother is the castle apothecary.'

Well, that goes quite a way towards explaining her skill, given her age…

She pulled a clean shirt and trousers from a basket on the same table as the water jug, identical to the ones that Bozer had been wearing, and helped him change his shirt, efficient but gentle and utterly unbothered by his brief half-nakedness.

Then, she held up the pants.

'Do you need help with your trousers, or can you manage on your own?'

He reached out with his right arm and took the pants from her.

'I'll…I'll be fine.'

He could definitely manage the pants. It was only a cut (albeit a rather deep and long one) on his left forearm, after all.

Besides, she might be completely unbothered by him being half-naked in her presence (he supposed that there was no reason she should be; she was a healer, her profession necessitated dealing with people in various states of undress), but he really, really did not want to be pants-less in anyone's presence, let alone a pretty girl about his age, even if she was a healer.

She simply nodded and moved one of the folding screens that Bozer and Riley had changed behind to give him some privacy.

'Call if you need help, Mac.'

A couple of minutes later, Mac stepped out from behind the screen, and found Beth examining one of the makeshift leaf-hats. The look on her face was inquisitive, and impressed, even, and he couldn't help but speak.

'The wax layer on the upper side of leaves is water-repellent, so I thought I'd give it a try…' He gestured at the hat, then held up his soaked-through trousers, expression wry. '...but I don't think it was very effective.'

She startled a little when he started speaking, cheeks pinking a bit, sheepish at being caught, then glanced between him and the discarded makeshift hats and over-cloaks.

'You made these?'

Definitely impressed, a voice in his head that sounded much like his grandfather, and also a bit like Bozer, pointed out.

Mac ignored the voice as best as he could, and nodded with a smile.

'Yeah.'

'Can I keep one, just to have a look?'

She sounded a little hesitant, shy, but also eager and curious, which made Mac's smile widen. He got that feeling.

'Of course.' His smile grew more wry. 'I don't think I'll be using them again; they're really not that effective.' He gestured at the window, which was absolutely covered in raindrops, water visibly pouring down from the roof as the gutters overflowed, as there was another flash of lightning. 'Definitely not in this weather.' She smiled wryly in response, and then he remembered his manners. 'And thank you, Beth.'

She shook her head, a soft smile on her face.

'Just doing my job, Mac.' She gestured to the door. 'We need to get some food into you…'

Mac, Bozer and Riley sat in the little chamber next to the infirmary, eating heartily and enthusiastically, too focused on eating to talk.

Jack, sipping from a flask of beer (Cage had brought it up with the food and drink for the teens and handed it to him wordlessly), was reminded of his own teen years, when he could eat just about anyone out of house and home. Simultaneously, his heart clenched again.

Clearly, the three had been very, very hungry, likely hadn't eaten well for a couple of weeks.

In fact, he suspected, despite the fact that they both seemed naturally leanly-built, Mac hadn't eaten well for a few weeks, and Riley might not have eaten well regularly for years.

Beth certainly thought so, given that she'd looked in to inspect the amount of food they'd been provided, then pulled Jack aside to instruct him to inform her if any of them ate too much too quickly or too soon and made themselves throw up. And Cage certainly seemed to think so, if the quantity of food she'd prepared for them was any indication, and Jack had long ago learned that Cage very rarely did things without reason.

Bozer seized the bread basket, and started buttering slices of bread. He handed two to Riley, then three to Mac, before taking a slice for himself, stuffing half of it into his mouth in one go, picking up another slice as he chewed.

Mac, Bozer and Riley, stomachs full for the first time in two weeks, stood in the corridor, in front of three adjacent bedchambers that Jack had led them to and informed them were theirs.

The blonde held up the little wooden whistle he'd whittled two weeks ago, one of three identical ones.

'Keep yours accessible, in case.'

Bozer and Riley nodded.

They were, understandably, sensibly, wary.

But they also, somehow, felt quite safe here in this mysterious castle.

There was magic here, powerful magic, the sort of magic that was found in the legends that Riley's mom had told her when she was a girl, or in the books that Mac's grandfather used to let Mac and Bozer read in secret.

And there was something in Jack's eyes, on his face, even in the way he stood, that made them feel protected, even though it was also clear to them that the older man was very, very dangerous.

And Mac couldn't imagine Beth having anything but good intentions. She was a healer, and he really couldn't imagine a kind, pretty girl with a smile like hers being evil…he cut himself off there and kicked himself mentally.

You've been taken in and fooled by a pretty face before, MacGyver. Get a grip on yourself.

Mac pocketed his whistle again, and headed for one of the doors, the one that Jack had said was his.

'Good night, guys.'

'Night, bro.'

'Goodnight, Mac.'

Mac had had every intention of going to sleep. He was exhausted.

But his attention was first caught by the clock on the table by the bed (clocks were very expensive, so it was definitely strange to find a clock in a guest bedchamber), then by the small stack of books resting on the desk by the window.

He recognized one of the titles. It was a book about engineering, written by a preeminent member of the Order of Engineers, about 215 years ago. His grandfather had had a precious, secret copy, which Mac had read cover-to-cover until he knew every word, and there was another book in the stack by the same author, and also another title that he recalled his grandfather mentioning as one of the best books on engineering he'd ever read, though he didn't have a copy; the one he'd read had been destroyed when his mentor had been killed.

Mac ran a hand reverently over the spines of the books, suddenly not tired, filled with that slightly-manic energy he had sometimes, when he was seized with an idea, with inspiration.

It wasn't that late, and besides, it probably wasn't a good idea to sleep in a mysterious and magical castle full of strangers…

He picked up the topmost book (the one that his grandfather had sworn was one of the best), kicked off his boots, and sat down on the bed, opening the book as he tugged the covers over his legs and leaned against the bedhead.

Mac woke up the next morning to sunlight streaming through the window. He glanced over at the clock, and found that it was 10 am. The book was open to the 198th page, resting on the bed beside him. Thankfully, there were no bent pages, and he hadn't drooled all over it or something like that. He rubbed his neck; it was a bit sore as he'd fallen asleep in an awkward position.

He was just getting out of bed, intending to go check on Bozer and Riley, when there was a knock on the door, and Beth's voice rang out.

'Mac? Good morning, I'm sorry if I've woken you, but you need to take another dose of medicine…'

He opened the door, revealing Beth, carrying a basket containing clothes and holding a mug of water, dressed much like she'd been the night before.

Mac found himself herded back into his room. He sat down on the edge of his bed, as it was the nearest surface suitable for sitting on, as the healer handed him three vials, identical to the ones from the night before, and the mug of water, raising her brows expectantly at him.

He sighed and shook his head, but obediently downed his medicine, followed by the mug of water.

Beth unwound the bandage on his arm, inspected the wound carefully, then re-dressed it with a fresh bandage.

'You'll need to be careful and take it easy for the next few days.' She looked up from her work and narrowed her eyes at him. 'I have a feeling that you are a terrible patient, so I'm warning you, if you don't take care of yourself, I will firstly make you do so, and secondly, you will face my wrath.' She narrowed her eyes further, tilting her chin up slightly. 'It's terrifying.'

You know, despite her entirely unthreatening appearance, I'm going to take that seriously.

A, there's what Jack said about her last night, and even though I'm about as sure as I can be that Jack loves to kid around and joke, I'm also pretty sure he was serious.

B, I just have a feeling that I really want to stay on her good side, though I'm not sure why.

And C, well, this travelling bard that my grandfather once knew gave him a poem inspired by my grandmother. The most memorable line?

'And though she be but little, she is fierce.'

I never knew my grandmother, but my grandfather swore up and down that it was very apt.

I see no reason why that principle can't apply to Beth too.

Mac raised his hands.

'I'll do my best to take care of myself, I promise, Beth.'

That made her give a little smile, and as she turned to pick up the contents of the basket, her eyes caught on the book, still lying open on his bed. She tilted her head a little to the left and turned back to him.

'Are you a fan of Tesla's work?'

There was something in her voice that suggested that she was very much a fan of Tesla's work. He smiled, lifting a shoulder.

'Well, I'm only 198 pages in, but so far, definitely.'

Her smile widened.

'Trust me, it gets even better.' Mac raised his brows, glancing back at the book, as she pulled a pair of trousers and a slightly-unusual shirt out of the basket. The shirt had buttons all the way down the front, so opened up completely. 'These should fit you, and you should be able to put on the shirt yourself…'

After getting changed (on his own this time – his nightshirt was loose enough that he could remove it essentially one-handed, and Beth had been very right about the shirt with buttons all down the front), Mac stepped out of his bedchamber, and found Bozer and Riley standing in the corridor, a little awkwardly, as Bozer was just staring at Riley, somewhat bug-eyed, while Riley ignored him.

(Mac attributed that to the fact that Riley was wearing a dress – a nice, deep-maroon one to boot – aside from the loose nightdress from the night before, they'd only ever seen her in a shirt and trousers, dressed like a boy.)

He was saved from having to think of something to try to defuse the awkwardness (which would quite likely make it even more awkward; he wasn't very good at these things), as Jack strode down the corridor with a grin.

'Morning, sleepyheads!' He motioned to them to follow him. 'You missed breakfast, but we set aside some grub for you…'

He led them into a little nook, furnished with a table and a few chairs, just down the corridor from their rooms.

There was also a sizeable breakfast spread on the table.

Jack seized the pitcher of coffee, and poured himself a mug, stirring sugar and milk into the beverage, plopping down into one of the seats, as the three teens, reassured and made more comfortable by his extremely casual manner, sat down and helped themselves to the food.

Jack waited until the three teenagers had eaten a good amount of food before he spoke, deliberately casually.

His sleep had been pretty poor the night before. Cage had said that they'd seen a lot of tragedy, that they had no family save each other, that they had nowhere to go, and that was a very, very sobering thought.

Jack had suffered plenty. He'd loved and lost a couple of times, and there was the whole being-cursed thing, but he still had quite a good-sized family, even if he didn't share blood with any of them, and he still had a home, even if it was a cursed castle in the woods, so he was pretty sure that these three had suffered a lot more.

'So, how do three young 'uns wind up in the middle of nowhere without enough to eat and seeking refuge in a mysterious, magical and possibly-dangerous castle in the woods?'

Mac, Bozer and Riley all exchanged a glance, silent for a moment, an unspoken conversation passing between them, before Mac put down his half-eaten piece of toast and spoke.

'Well, it's a really long story, but I guess it mostly started two weeks ago, the night before I was going to be burnt at the stake…'

Jack shook his head sadly as Riley finished off the last of their story.

He'd known that it would be bad, knew that they had to be orphans, had to have been driven out of their homes somehow, and he'd suspected, strongly, why, since Riley had magic and Mac skill that the masses would mistake for magic, but it was just that little bit worse, hearing it from them.

'I'm sorry.' He paused for a moment, then continued. 'The lady of the castle's decreed that you can stay as long as you like.'

Their eyes widened a little in disbelief, then they all nodded gratefully.

'That's…'

'Thanks, Jack.'

'And please tell the lady of the castle thank you too, on our behalf.'

Jack nodded, a smile that looked rather fond appearing on his face.

'I'll pass that on to Patty for you.' He sipped his coffee, then pointed at the three. 'When you're done eating, go ahead and explore, if you want. Just two rules.' He took another sip of coffee, expression serious. 'One, you can go through any door that'll open under your touch, but no trying to get through any locked ones, okay?' They all nodded in acceptance, and Mac told himself very firmly that there would be absolutely no picking of locks, no matter how curious he was about what was on the other side of a door or how much he wanted to test his lock-picking skills against magical locks. That would be extremely rude, a very poor way to repay the castle's lady and inhabitants for their hospitality, and he couldn't risk getting himself and Bozer and Riley thrown out. Jack's expression became more wry, and he pointed at Mac specifically. 'And you, brother, have got to take it easy, alright? No over-exerting yourself, or you ain't gonna like the consequences Beth will make you suffer.'

Mac nodded, picking up his piece of toast again, a distinct feeling that Jack wouldn't be happy with him either if he over-exerted himself either.

AN: Sorry, you're going to have to wait a little longer for Mac, Bozer and Riley to meet the rest of the castle inhabitants! (It's just three days!)

Any guesses as to who the 'travelling bard' is? :P