Winsor drew his hand out, extended it for a shake. Ricardo took it. Winsor pumped his hand once, and then, jerked violently. He was smaller, but he threw Ricardo off balance enough that his other arm was able to come behind him. Something glinted in Winsor's hand. Ricardo recovered enough to drive his fist into Winsor's stomach, crippling the smaller sorcerer over it.

"I finally extend the hand of friendship to you and this is how you react?" Ricardo spat on Winsor as he twisted Winsor's pale, thin arm. Winsor crumpled to his knees. He rolled his face away. "Your brother was right; you are useless." Ricardo kicked at Winsor's back.

A bottle dropped from Winsor's hand. It crashed against the floor, and a cloud of powder rolled upward from the shards. Winsor exhaled, and with his free hand reached for his belt.

The sorcerer and sorceress who had been working at the girl were staring at Ricardo and Winsor. They began to chant. I lunged forward and slammed into the sorceress, knocking her sideways. Phlo crashed into a shelf, which stood sturdy. She staggered.

Phil grabbed me. I brought my elbow up and hit him in the jaw. He stumbled backward. My attention was split again by Phlo behind me, and I spun to kick her. I was terrible at fighting, but against these sorcerers I was doing a fair job of it. They were knocked around easily, like vases with uneven bottoms.

Juris stood back where I'd started, watching in shock.

Winsor rolled to avoid another kick, this one aimed at his head.

"All you had to do was submit! Your life didn't have to be so hard." Ricardo's ankle landed next to Winsor's shoulder, pinning tufts of black hair. "You made yourself an outcast. You could have been one of us, but you always had an opinion—"

The cloud reached up to Ricardo's neck. As he gasped in to prepare another verbal assault, the powder invaded. He started to cough on the noxious fumes. His footing slipped as his large body shook. Winsor, obscured by the rolling powder-smoke of the potion, twisted onto his side. The knife he drew from his belt dug into the fatty muscle of Ricardo's lower leg. As the steel slid in, Winsor let go of the handle. Arcs of blue-white light shot out from the weapon.

I recognized the writhing magic crawling along Ricardo's body; it was the same enchantment the arrows the Avalons had shot Mallow with used. Just like Mallow had, Ricardo began to convulse. With a burning smell, the greasy hair tuft ignited. He was a screaming candle before the flames spread everywhere, consuming his clothes and his skin alike. Ricardo was gone, leaving only smoke that was pink and billowy in his place.

"Two Enchanted fiends soaked in girl's blood, change so all you can do is chew cud!" Winsor shouted. Phil and Phlo, still reeling from my punches, fell to the ground. Their arms and legs shrank while their chests and stomachs swelled. Mooing helplessly, the two sorcerers staggered toward Winsor.

"Cows quietly fall asleep so no havoc they can wreak," he shouted as one of them grazed against him. The cow stumbled, and then slid to the ground. It thudded against a cabinet, knocking loose a series of glass vials. Most of them fell without shattering onto the bony hide and rolled down the curves to the ground. The other cow teetered for a moment, and then collapsed in place, its legs folding beneath it.

"What happened to Ricardo?" I asked, realizing that all of Winsor's actions meant the spell must be broken. My own words sounded foreign to me, even after such a short time of being unable to speak.

"I killed him," Winsor cried, frantic with panic. "I-I-I had no choice, it was the only way to break the spell so I could save her." Winsor stared wide eyed down at the girl. "Hex it, she's bleeding out without their enchantments. I don't know what they did—"

"Revert her back!" I said.

"She's already so far gone." Winsor leaned over her body. She was screaming now, some parts of her flaking off, and revealing sinewy muscular tissue beneath. "She's falling apart!"

"Then, then...". She wasn't me or my Mallow; she wasn't enchanted though. She was a girl. A frail, elf girl who had approached me with warmth and affection despite me being a total stranger. The kind of girl that filled a town with light and hope and joy, and she was in so much pain. And I, not an Avalon, unable to heal her. Why couldn't I be a real healer? Then I might at least know how to sooth her pain-

The healing potion!

I dug into my sash and pulled it out. I grabbed Thessa by the cheeks, like I used to do with Mallow when she had to take her medicine and refused to. Pushing together, her lips puffed out fishlike, and I uncorked the potion.

"Don't give her one of your fakes!" Winsor's narrow fingers clawed at my sleeve.

"This one's real." The liquid trailed down, the swirls in it like tiny stars. It splashed against her tongue, and then ran down her throat. "It's not going to be enough! Cast to make her stable!"

"Girl that is now of sea and of land, her immediate health I demand," Winsor said. Even as he said it, I saw the potion slowing the bleeding. Her body wasn't convulsing as violently. Her breathing became steadier.

The last of the potion emptied. I threw the empty vial away. I hardly heard the tiny shattering sound of the wasted bottle. I focused all of my attention on her.

"I'm going to get some water and rinse her off, so we can tell where she's injured," I said.

"Good idea," Winsor said. He flipped his mittens over his hands and rubbed them together. "Girl whose injuries remain unknown, heal all damage to muscle and bone."

I found what I was searching for, a hot pot of water over the lab's small hearth. I grabbed some clean fabric nearby and dipped it into the water. It reddened my hands with heat as I wrung it out. I hurried back over and wiped the girl.

"Oww," she cried. Not an unintelligible animal howl, but a human sounding 'ow.' She was getting better, even if she still hurt. Winsor was now hopping in place, trying to keep warm. I swiped at the blood, soaking it up with the hot towels like I had when I had birthed calves as a kid. Getting rid of the mess and muck so I could assess that everything was all right .

"It's... not enough," Winsor swallowed. "I'm going to have to abandon the healing enchantment on you to have enough energy to keep her alive until we can get back to town." Even though it was a warm summer day, his voice crackled as if whipped by snowy winds.

"That's fine," I said. I undid the restraints on the girl. She curled into my arms as I lifted her. "Just hold on long enough so I can get down to the horse and strap her in."

"All r-right," Winsor stammered.

In a weak voice she murmured.

"It's you, mister con artist. You're even handsome close up."

"Yeah, it's me. You tried to save me last time, so it's my turn." I kissed her forehead, and she half-laughed, half hiccupped, before resting her weak body against my chest. I hurried out of the lab, and back to the main room with Winsor. He opened the door with magic, and then levitated me down. He followed suit, but collapsed three feet from the bottom, crumpling on the floor.

"Winsor?"

"I'm fine, get her to the frigid horse!" he shouted at me as he staggered up.

I ran to the exit. Flatchert was there, waiting for me, the boulder enchantment dropped already. She nickered in a friendly way, before concern entered her large brown eyes. She was sober as I hurried up to her.

I tied Thessa to Flatchert. Thessa was peering around alertly, Winsor's magic taking the edge off of her injuries. Her tail and fin didn't fit naturally, so I arranged her to sit sidesaddle. I climbed behind her and tied us together with my large red sash so she didn't slip off.

"Do you know how to ride a horse?" I asked. Winsor coughed as he struggled to climb onto Flatchert in the small space remaining.

"Yeah, we have a horse at my farm," Thessa said, the reins fitting comfortably in her hands. "Why?"

Winsor shook violently. He pressed his frigid forehead against my back. I felt the chill through the vest and shirt. His arms wrapped around me and Thessa in front of me.

"Eep! Your hands are cold!" she said.

"Winsor, focus all of your magic on her," I said.

"Yes..."

"Ride back to town. We've got to get the Avalons to help you Thessa," I said.

"Right. Not safe yet." She focused on riding Flatchert back to Blythe. I knew the second Winsor stopped enchanting me, because every bump made my ribs stab my lungs. My twisted wrist hurt in every position, and the bruises bloomed over my body all over again. I tried my best to keep my mind on getting back to Blythe instead of the pain. What had the girl thought about when she was being tormented?

Letting my eyes drift up to the moon, only half voluntarily, I thought of Mallow. It made the pain on my body numb, but there was a wrenching agony that flared up in my heart. I had rescued a person who had been kidnapped. I had even worked with the man I suspected of taking Mallow, yet I was no closer to finding her.