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wolfed it down as the group walked out to the stables. Inside, Ella led them to a box stall where a large bay stood, his head hanging dispiritedly and his splinted right foreleg raised so it barely touched the floor. The glossy dark hide was marked by numerous abrasions and lacerations from his fall, and his breathing was shallow. Hertford, the head groom, watched from outside the stall with a worried expression.
    â€œThat’s Dancer,” Winslow said from behind Abby. “What would it cost to save him? Frayne thinks the world of that oversize beast.”
    â€œThis is not about money, Mr. Winslow.” Abby stepped up beside Hertford. He was a wizard himself, his gift an uncanny ability to work with animals. “What did you find when you examined this fellow?”
    â€œThe cannon bone in his right fore is broke, but it’s a clean break,” Hertford said. “It would be enough to have him put down anywhere but here, but I put a splint on, hoping you might be able to save him. ’E’s a good beast and deserves a chance. You’ll have to work fast, though. He’s getting right feverish.”
    â€œPlease keep him calm for me.” Abby entered the stall, Hertford behind her. Usually a high-spirited hunter like this one would react to the approach of a stranger, but Dancer hardly noticed her.
    Hertford laid his hands on the horse’s head and murmured a string of soothing words while Abby scanned the broken foreleg. As the groom had said, the break was clean. Still, treating a large animal required a great deal of energy. The mere thought was exhausting, but she would have help. She turned to her friends. “Shall we give this a try? Healing one bone will be easy compared to yesterday.”
    â€œWe’re all here so we might as well see what we can do,” Judith said practically. “But don’t attempt more than you’re fit for.”
    Judith made the average mother hen look neglectful, but Abby appreciated her concern. As the wizards filed into the loose box, she assigned them places, Ella on her right and Hambly on her left. Abby placed her hands on the right side of Dancer’s neck while Hertford stood opposite, his hands also splayed out on Dancer’s dark hide. There were just enough people to surround the horse, though if not for Hertford’s soothing magic, the bay wouldn’t have tolerated the crowding. Winslow was still present and he looked acutely uncomfortable, but he didn’t withdraw. Nor did he offer to help. Dislike for magic ran particularly deep in him.
    â€œOur hands are joined, the circle is sealed. Let us begin.” Even though Abby braced herself, she wavered under the onslaught of energies.
    After a few deep breaths, she managed to steady her mind. Her healing trance was not as profound as the day before, but it sufficed. An overall scan confirmed that only the broken foreleg was serious, but when she tried to fuse the bone, she didn’t have sufficient strength and focus to do the job completely.
    This time the patient didn’t have a store of magic to draw on, but she managed to lay down a template and start the healing process. Though less than completely mended, Dancer’s leg was perhaps halfway there. It would have to be good enough.
    She used the last shreds of channeled power to purge Dancer’s system of inflammation. As Hertford had said, infection was taking hold and would kill the horse if left unchecked.
    Wearily she closed the circle. She was swaying on her feet and felt as if her body and spirit were not quite connected. Speaking was an effort. “With the splint and Hertford’s good care, Dancer should be ready to hunt before his master is.”
    â€œOh, thank you,” Ella said, her eyes as bright as if she were Dancer’s owner. She stroked the dark coat. “I’ll come back later and groom him, if that’s all right with Mr. Hertford. But you need to get back to the