None of them would believe such a thing. Hell, Morgan himself wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t tracked Robin down and seen it for himself.

And Morgan had been injured and sloppy when he had left Avalon directly after Isabeau’s orders. He had put the guards to sleep at the crossover passageway and had left a clear trail. When he had returned a few days ago, he had covered his tracks much better.

So they couldn’t know for sure who had healed Sidonie. If they had truly believed it had been either Robin or Morgan, there would have been several of Isabeau’s most Powerful magic users waiting down here, perhaps even Modred himself. And Morgan had left no trace of his scent, plus he had kept the tunnel opening covered with the sheet of rock.

Sidonie wouldn’t be able to tell them anything. To the best of their knowledge, they had a locked-room mystery on their hands—but the weakest part of the mystery was Sidonie. Isabeau wouldn’t like an unsolved mystery in her basement. So she had set a trap to see what she might catch.

And she would keep Sidonie close, so that she could question her again at her leisure.

Certainty solidified underneath him. Sidonie was still somewhere close by, in the castle.

Morgan had to solve their locked-room mystery for them, so they would have no reason to question Sidonie again at length.

Stepping over bodies, he reached Hoel and threw the spell that would wake him. With a snap of his fingers, he called light back to his hand. As Hoel shifted and groaned, Morgan pressed a hand over the other man’s mouth.

“Wake up,” Morgan said. “Look at me.”

The sergeant blinked dazedly at him. Awareness widened his eyes.

When Morgan was sure Hoel had recognized him, he said in a voice laced with Power, “You will not speak unless it is in answer to a direct question. Is that clear?”

Hoel nodded.

Pulling his hand away, Morgan asked, “Where did you take the prisoner?”

“The Queen has given her leave to prepare for an audition while we hunt for—while we investigate who might have healed her.” Sweat broke out on Hoel’s forehead. “My lord, I-I-I’m supposed to tell you…”

Morgan clapped his hand over Hoel’s mouth again. He snapped, “I ordered you not to speak unless it was in answer to a direct question.”

Orders that had been laced with Power were difficult to disobey. Hoel must have a compelling reason for fighting Morgan’s directive, and Morgan had a feeling it might have something to do with Isabeau wanting him back whether he was healed or not.

Should he bother to try asking Hoel any more questions? Was it worth the risk?

After a moment, he decided it wasn’t. If Sidonie wasn’t dead, he could find her.

It was time to give the guards another story to take to the Queen, one that had just enough plausibility to set her suspicions to rest.

Looking into Hoel’s eyes, he said, “Don’t fight me. If you fight me hard enough, it might break your mind. Relax, sergeant. Relax every muscle in your body, and relax your mind. Relax your thoughts. Let them float away. There’s nothing urgent you need to do, and there’s nothing to worry about. All is well. There’s only the truth that you’re about to discover.”

As he spoke, he dug deep into the other man’s mind until he was sure he had a strong hold. Instinctively Hoel struggled against the control, at least at first, but the stun spell Morgan had originally thrown worked in his favor, and Hoel quickly lost the battle.

“A friendly water sprite had heard Sidonie’s cries of pain,” he whispered to the sergeant. “She traveled up the privy hole to see what was the matter. When she found Sidonie broken, she sent her to sleep and healed her hands. While you were waiting here in the cell, the sprite returned to check on her handiwork. She would have fled and cast a spell of sleep over the other guards, but you convinced her to stay and talk to you—at least for a few minutes. Remember, she asked after Sidonie, and was angry and concerned that she was missing from the cell. Water sprites don’t let go easily when they become attached.”

“A water sprite,” Hoel murmured, relaxing into the story. “That would explain it.”

“It explains everything,” Morgan told him, still working his magic on the man’s memories. “The lack of scent, the lack of any other evidence of an intruder in the tunnels. You’ve looked everywhere down here, and you know for a certainty there is no other way out, or in.”

“There truly isn’t.” Hoel shook his head, smiling. “We checked every inch of the tunnels, and every nook and cranny in the cells. She was beautiful, the water sprite, wasn’t she?”

Now Hoel’s mind was working with him to spin the tale. “She was extraordinary,” Morgan murmured. “Delicate and shimmering, and appearing to be made completely from water. She fit easily through the privy hole—after all, she’s a water elemental and can shrink or grow according to the space she’s in. You already know how water sprites populate this area of the river, and the shores of the sea beyond. They may be shy of the Light Fae, but they’re still there.”

Hoel sighed. “I’ve always wanted to see one.”

“She’s going to leave in a few minutes, and when she does, you’re going to rouse your men. You now have a story the Queen wants to hear.” Morgan touched his forefinger to Hoel’s forehead. “But for now, you’re going to immerse yourself in the experience of talking with the sprite.”

“Aye, she’s a tricky one, coming up the privy hole like that,” Hoel said with a grin. “Who’d have ever thought it? A disgusting way to travel, if you ask me… but she’s made of water, so she could just shrug off the waste.”

“That’s right,” Morgan told him as he pulled out the flasks of water from his bag and emptied them around the privy hole. “Nothing sticks to her as long as she flows. Watch for her now…. Look, she likes you.”

With those words, he walked out of the cell, locked the door, and made his way back to his tunnel. After he had stepped inside, he shifted the sheet of rock back into place.

The events of the past day and night had skated much too close to disaster for his liking. Robin was loose to propagate whatever mischief that came into his head, and Morgan had depleted what precious magic strength he had begun to accumulate as he healed.

But at least he’d had a chance to spin a tale of how Sidonie had been healed, and it should hold up under scrutiny. Plus it was still night, still the best time for him to move about, and he didn’t know where Sidonie might be kept.