Maertyn wasn`t surprised at all to find himself on another stone bench behind iron bars. He sat up, letting the wave of whiskey, beer, and shame crash down over his head. Maertyn reeled, a little surprised to realize that he was still drunk instead of all the way to hungover. Usually, Maertyn never stirred until he`d slept it all off—unless something woke him. He looked around, and saw that the Prince of Ammar stood outside the bars.

　　Even from six feet away, Maertyn could hear Anryn grind her teeth. He struggled to his feet and went to lean against the bars. She looked up at him, and his heart wrenched. Anryn`s face was all bloody, covered in scratches. Her lip was split.

　　I said I would be there, Maertyn thought. Guilt gnawed at him. The voices in his head whispered venom. Repeated that he deserved no better.

　　Maertyn reached through the bars to touch Anryn`s face. He wanted to Weave the wounds shut, to push the blood back into her body. Push even further into where the curse wrapped around and around underneath her skin. Maertyn thought if he could do this for the Prince of Ammar, all his shame, all his rage might finally be cured.

　　"Don`t," Anryn said. She grabbed Maertyn`s hand to stop him.

　　"I can heal you," Meartyn said. "I can help you."

　　"Maertyn, I don`t want you to," Anryn said. "I have to learn to live without your help. In this body. Even if it`s cursed. Do you understand?"

　　Maertyn looked around. He could hardly remember how he got to the jail. The sun coming through the bars was still bright, but the day felt so much older than it had when he took the bottle from the bartender. He`d been doing something just before that, but he could not quite remember what it was&

　　"How did you find me?" Maertyn asked.

　　Anryn tapped the skin beside her eyes. "They already think I`m scrawny. Now they`re going to say that I`m cross-eyed." This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

　　Maertyn chuckled, still a little drunk. "You are making your life harder."

　　"You make my life harder, peasant," the prince said. "So much about myself I did not know until I met you. I`m not ungrateful. You saved my life—more than once. But I& I need to do this next part on my own. I can`t depend on anyone else."

　　"Especially not a drunk like me," Maertyn said.

　　"I didn`t say that," Anryn said. Now she reached through the bars to grasp his arms with her hands. He let her pull him close. "Remember, I commanded you: Save yourself. You are worth saving, Maertyn Blackfire. Which is why you have to go. My father is rounding up anyone who might be a witch. Right now, you`re only here because you`re drunk—they said that you shoved a singer into a fountain. They`ll let you go. Next time they won`t."

　　Maertyn stiffened. He remembered the carts of wood he saw in the market, all headed in one direction.

　　"You have to get them out. You have to get all of the witches out of this place," Maertyn said. "Do not let the mages have them. Do not let your father burn them."

　　"I`ll do everything that I can for them," Anryn said. "But, please& Please just wait here until Professor Lawson comes to bail you out. After that, once you`re gone, you can See, you can Weave, you can burn whatever you want to the ground. Swear an oath to me that you will do nothing until then."

　　Maertyn`s eyes stung with tears he couldn`t understand. Was he very drunk, or was it something else that made him put his arms through the bars to wrap around Anryn? It was easy enough to do what she asked. It was nothing to Maertyn to lie on his back for a night and then Unweave the iron bars that held him. He`d walked out of the Dome of Nynomath. No prison on earth could hold him. Maertyn would go back to his home on the mountain and continue to drink until the sky fell down.

　　Yet& Maertyn was afraid for Anryn. The prince would pick a fight for the witches, both in Ammar and Nynomath. He knew that she was honorable, and that she liked to pick fights. But Maertyn knew, with the wisdom of all the years he`d try to drink away, that Anryn could never win. He hadn`t.

　　Maertyn`s face hurt, but it was not from smiling.

　　"OK, Your Highness," Maertyn said. He let Anryn go. "I swear."