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I barely glanced at the room, apparently the smallest of a half-dozen, if the doorways and spacing between them meant anything, and left only cloak and saddlebags there. My coins were in the openly-displayed purse and in the hidden slots in my boots and belt. Then we walked back toward the bath, down the stone-walled corridors. Even the interior walls were of stone, saving the doors themselves.

Hot water they had, flowing from some sort of spring. The stone-walled room had been built around the spring, clearly, and the source of the faint metallic odor in the valley was definitely from the hot springs, of which there had to be more.

Metallic-smelling water or not, bathing in the rock tub chiseled from the stone was wonderful, loosening aches I hadn’t even recognized. I didn’t leave that healing flow of heat and relaxation, and dry myself with a thick brown towel, until I resembled a prune.

I also took the liberty of washing my undergarments and wringing them out. After all, for three golds I deserved a few extras, and neither the innkeeper nor his wife said a word when I walked back toward my room barefoot and wearing just my trousers, with the rest of my clothes draped over my arm.

The room, with a single narrow window looking out on the back meadow that I could not see in the darkness, contained a bed, a narrow wardrobe, and a candle in a sconce above the bed. The window, two spans of real glass on a pivot frame, was wedged shut.

The bed, narrow as it was, actually had sheets and a worn coverlet. I thought about blowing out the candle. Certainly my eyelids were heavy enough, but the paper corner, protruding from the belt pouch recalled the letter or note I hadn’t even read.

So I sat on the bed and unfolded the heavy paper. The reversed images of some letters where the two sides had been folded together told me that, despite the careful phrasing, the words had been placed on the heavy linen paper in haste.

Lerris—

In traveling, even a wizard can be trapped while asleep. Read the section on wards (alarms) in your book before you sleep in strange covers.

Try also, for your sake, to take the time to read the entire book before you make one too many mistakes. Spend some time doing something simple and thinking. You can’t think and learn if you’re always on the run.

—J—

Since the gray wizard had been right more than once, I levered myself off the bed and pulled The Basis of Order from my pack. Then I slowly thumbed through the end sections until I found “Wards,” taking several deep breaths to keep my yawns from overpowering me.

I didn’t quite understand the theory, but the mechanics were less difficult than healing that damned woman or even weaving my weather-net. The interesting part of the wards were that they would work without my conscious direction. The bad part was that they didn’t do much besides warn.

I thought there might be more, but if so I wasn’t in shape to learn it. So I slipped the door wedge and bar in place, put my knife under my pillow, and blew out the candle. My eyes closed before the light died.

I woke with a jolt from a dream of endless mountain trails. The room was dark, black, yet a ring of light from the wards surrounded the door.

…iiiittt…chhh…

I tried to get the sleep out of my mind, reaching for the knife, then almost laughed.

“Anything I can do for you?” I called.

The sounds stopped but no one answered, although I could feel two bodies on the other side of the rough plank door.

I waited, and they waited.

…iiiitttch…

“I really wouldn’t, if I were you,” I added casually, wondering what I would do if they attempted to break the door.

The prying noise stopped again, and I tried to think, when all I really wanted to do was sleep.

The wedge wouldn’t hold up long, not against a determined attack. The whole sneaky effort meant the innkeeper was only after the weak.

I walked across the cold stone floor and let my feelings examine the door and the frame—solid oak set in stone,