The woman stood up. “You’re among friends. I will get Magnus.’’
Talon fell back against a trio of heavy pillows stuffed with soft down. He rested naked between sheets of fine white cloth, unlike anything he had seen before. The sheets were drenched, and he knew he had just broken a fever. Bandages covered his shoulder, back, his ribs on the left side, both thighs, and his right calf.
A few minutes later, Magnus appeared, with the woman a step behind him. “How are you feeling?” asked the white-haired magician.
Lying back on the pillows, Talon said, “I couldn’t fight a kitten.’’
Magnus sat on the side of the bed and put his hand on Talon’s forehead. “Fever’s gone.” He put his thumb on the top of Talon’s left eyelid and lifted it slightly. “So is the jaundice.”
“What happened?” Talon asked.
Magnus said, “It’s a long tale. The short version is that someone sent three death-dancers to kill me. They found you instead.’’
“Death-dancers?”
“I’ll explain it all, at length, but for now you need to rest. Are you hungry?’’
Talon nodded. “I could eat.’’
The woman said, “I’ll get some broth,” and left the room.
“How long have I been like this?” asked Talon.
“Ten days.’’
“I’ve been here ten days?’’
Magnus nodded. “You almost died, Talon. Had you been just about anywhere other than this island, you almost certainly would have. Perhaps a powerful temple priest might have saved you, but few apart from those living here would have possessed the skills to keep you alive.
“The death-dancer’s touch is poison, so even if the kill isn’t clean, the victim rarely survives.”
“How did I get here?’’
“When the death-dancers set foot upon the shore, some of us knew instantly something was amiss. We hurried back to the hut once it was clear no attack was mounted here. The death-dancers expected to find a magician alone in the hut, and instead they found a swordsman.
“Had they been hunting you, you would have died without knowing who struck you down. But they were prepared for magical resistance rather than cold steel, and that bought you enough time for us to rescue you.’’
“Thank you,” said Talon. “Who is ‘us’?’’
“Myself, and others,” said Magnus. He stood up as the woman returned with a large bowl of broth and a slice of bread on a tray.
Talon elbowed himself up so that he could eat, but the exertion made his head swim. The woman sat down next to him and picked up the spoon, and, rather than object, he allowed her to feed him. She was a beautiful woman, possibly in her middle thirties, with dark hair, striking blue eyes, and a firm set to her mouth that made her appear stern.
He glanced from her face to Magnus’s and between spoonfuls of steaming broth said, “I can see a resemblance. You never said you have a sister.’’
The woman smiled, and Magnus did as well, and the resemblance became even more pronounced. The woman said, “You flatter me.’’
“Talon, meet Miranda, my mother.’’
Talon swallowed and said, “I find that difficult to believe.” If anything, she looked younger than her son.
“Believe it,” said Miranda. “This is a very remarkable place.’’
Talon said nothing and continued to eat. When he was finished, Miranda set aside the bowl. At once he started, “What—‘’
“Not now,” she interrupted. “You will have time to ask questions, later, but for now you must rest.’’
Talon’s curiosity was overwhelmed by his fatigue, and even before she had left the room, his eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and rhythmic.
Two days after he had regained consciousness, Talon was allowed to get up and walk about. Magnus lent him a staff, which Talon leaned on, since both his legs were weak and sore from his injuries, and he hobbled along next to the magician, who said, “Welcome to Villa Beata.’’
“That’s the name of this place?’’
“Yes, it means ‘beautiful home’ in an ancient tongue.’’
They were in a large courtyard, surrounded by a low wall. The buildings around them were all white plastered, with red tile roofs.
“I’ve never imagined a place like this.’’
“Those who built it were less worried about defending this place than they were about comfort. There are many stories about how it came to be.’’
“Do you know the truth?’’
Magnus smiled. “I don’t. My father claimed to have heard the truth on the subject, but the man who told him the story was known to make inventions when it suited him, so we may never know how this place came to exist.’’
“Is this your home?’’
“This is where I grew up, yes,” said Magnus.