Alden and Imogen flew low above the city, getting a firsthand look at the destruction. This was what they’d been reduced to, flying around and looking. They had no idea where to go or who to talk to. Every lead they’d had was either dead or useless. As far as they were concerned Jonny Linn might as well be a ghost.

“We should help with the cleanup,” Alden said. “We’d have as good a chance of finding him as we do just randomly searching.”

“Do as you wish. I mean to keep looking.”

Alden shook his head. Imogen was taking Jonny’s escape personally. He almost felt bad for the former guard. If she ever got a hold of him it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Help! Please!”

Alden didn’t know what it was about the desperate cry that made it stand out from every other call he’d heard in the past several hours, but whatever it was he focused on a figure in red waving his arms. It looked like a teenager and he was staring up at the two sorcerers.

Alden started down.

“What are you doing?” Imogen asked.

“That boy’s signaling us. I’m going to check it out.”

“It’s a waste of time.”

“Maybe, but flying back and forth isn’t doing us much good. A two-minute conversation isn’t going to make or break us.”

“It might,” Imogen said, her voice grim.

Alden landed beside the boy and, despite her complaining, Imogen joined him.

“What’s wrong, son?” Alden asked.

“The grandmaster. He stabbed the grandmaster. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t distracted him…”

“Slow down. Take a breath. Who stabbed who where?”

“The man was dressed like a guard. He stabbed the grandmaster in our dojo. I’m a student of the Iron Path. Please, the grandmaster is still alive. You have to help me.”

Imogen and Alden looked at each other for a moment. She described Jonny to the boy. “Was that him?”

“Yes, ma’am. Will you come?”

“Lead the way,” Alden said.

The Iron Path dojo was only a three-minute run away. They rounded a corner in time to see someone leap from the roof over to the wall. Imogen raced toward him. Alden watched her a moment then looked to the boy, his face a mask of concern. Imogen could handle a simple guardsman on her own.

“Where’s your master?”

The boy slumped with relief. He grabbed Alden’s wrist and practically dragged him through the doors into the dojo. An old man lay on the floor twenty feet inside, a pool of blood quickly spreading around him. Alden conjured more light and ran over to him.

The grandmaster’s breathing was shallow and his hands were clenched around his stomach. Alden gently moved his hands aside to expose the wound. He winced. Jonny had run him clean through.

A stream of healing energy leapt from Alden’s hands. It would take a while, but he could fix everything. Whether the grandmaster had the strength to recover after the healing was out of Alden’s control.