When she started to reach for the bound man, Gaelen blocked her. “You mustn’t touch him. We don’t know what this is or how it’s passed,” he said.

She stifled a sigh. “Give me a little credit, Gaelen. I wasn’t planning to touch him, but I can’t examine him from halfway across the room.”

Unchastened, Gaelen reluctantly stepped aside.

Ellysetta moved closer and began to examine the unconscious man carefully. He was soaked in blood, both his own from numerous deep cuts as well as splatters that clearly had come from other donors. Gaelen checked him for Mage Marks, just to be on the safe side, before Ellysetta spun protective weaves around her hands and began checking the man’s body for clues as to what had taken over his mind.

“We’ve already ruled out Azrahn and Spirit,” she said as she worked. “So how else could a spell of this sort be invoked? “

“Potions or totems are the usual vehicles,” Rijonn said.

“If it’s a potion, it was most likely added to their food or drink,” Tajik suggested.

“But different areas of the camp were affected at the same time,” Bel said. “Which means someone would have had to slip the potion into all the cookpots—and if they did that, why would only some of us be affected? “

“If the spell is tied to a totem, the totems could have been hidden in various parts of the camp,” Gil said. “The spell could affect anyone within a specific distance of the totem.”

“If that were the case, Rain and the others would have been affected when they got near it,” Ellysetta said.

“We know the spell affected different areas of the camp, which means there were multiple points of origin, but not all occurred at the same time. Whatever it is affects Fey and Celierian alike, and it spreads.”

“It could be darts,” Gil suggested. “Delivered by finger-bow, wristbow, or even blowpipes. They’re tiny enough to be easily missed, and could deliver a potion or poison directly into the blood.”

“Or insect stings,” Rijonn added in his rumbling voice. “I remember Lord Shan telling us once about a Feraz witch who used an army of buzzflies to attack her enemies.”

“I haven’t heard anyone talking about darts or swarms of insects,” Gaelen said, “so I think we can safely rule those out.”

“It burns,” Bel exclaimed. Everyone turned to look at him. “When I was scanning their thoughts, looking for what was controlling them, I heard a couple of Celierians thinking about something burning them. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I thought the Fire masters had spun a weave on them.”

“Burns how? Their eyes, their throats—ah!” Ellysetta gasped as a sudden chill, like the poisonous bite of an ice spider, raced up her spine. Her legs went weak, and she had to grab the edges of the table to keep from falling.

“What is it?” Gaelen asked with quiet urgency. “Is it the poison?”

Before Ellysetta could gather her wits enough to respond, a cry rang out across the Warrior’s Path.

«Portals opening! Fey! Bote’cha!»

Rain leapt to his feet, away from the bodies of the unconscious, as gaping black maws opened up across the encampment. Barrages of sel’dor and Mage Fire poured out of the openings, clearing a path before brightly colored fezaros leapt out of the Well on the backs of their tawny zaretas, swinging not swords but strange pierced pots on long chains.

Fey’cha flew. Most of the fezaros and their fierce cats fell quickly, but not before dozens of Fey and Celierians around them went strangely still, then turned on their brethren, crying, “Save the king!” and “For Celieria and King Dorian!”

«It’s a potion of some kind,» Rain spun the news to Ellysetta and her quintet as his blades flew. «Feraz are dispersing it, so their witches are most likely the makers. The potion appears to possess whomever it touches on contact.»

More fezaros leapt through the openings, now protected by growing rings of ensorcelled allies. And behind them, staying to the center of the growing rings, came black-armored Elden archers, and blue-and red-robed Mages. Sel’dor arrows, invisible against the night sky, rained down upon the allies, and everywhere they fell, cries of “Save the king!” soon erupted. Possessed Fey turned on the unconscious infected warriors and began unweaving their bindings. Within scant chimes, the enemy numbers had mushroomed.

“Fey! Five-fold weaves! Get those portals closed and take those flaming archers out! Don’t let the arrows strike you!” Rain leapt into the air, Changing and diving for the closest portal. Though he hadn’t wanted to fire the field when the only enemy was ensorcelled friends, now that the Mages had made an appearance, it was a different story.

Tairen fire erupted from his muzzle, blasting a knot of Mages and searing the opening to the Well. The Mages threw up protective weaves to save themselves, but the magic of Rain’s flame enveloped the archers around them. Lit up like candle lamps and screaming in mindless agony, the archers ran in frantic circles until they dropped. The gaping black maw of the Well winked shut.

Roaring in triumph, he dove after a second knot of enemies.

“I’m fine,” Ellysetta assured her quintet who had dragged her away from the healing table and her bespelled patient.

“Ellysetta.” Gaelen’s voice was stern, but his eyes held only concern. The other four warriors of her quintet straightened from their attack stance and sheathed their bare red Fey’cha steel, but like Gaelen, their level of tension remained high.