I had forgotten that until he mentioned it. It wasn’t just an ordinary trip on which the queen’s uncle had gone. It had been a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

“A wizard has to go along wherever his employer needs him,” I said.

“I know, I know,” said Zahlfast. “Of course he had to go, but I still don’t like it. Well, if by some chance you do get a message from Evrard, let us know immediately.” And he rang off.

I stood by the silent phone for several minutes, tapping my fingers slowly. If Zahlfast had thought it worth calling me, he must be more concerned than he had wanted to suggest. I wondered if there was something specific he hoped I would do, and then began thinking that, regardless of the school’s plans, I should initiate my own search. Neither Evrard nor I had ever had much respect for each other’s magic, but I was still better friends with him than with any other wizard of my generation.

I could see him before me in my mind’s eye. He had fox-colored hair, belied by guileless blue eyes and a large number of freckles, an excellent sense of humor, and a truly charming smile, especially when he had just gotten a spell wrong. I had the impression that the queen’s uncle was very pleased to have him. I did hope he wasn’t dead.

The phone abruptly rang, and I jumped. The constable put his head around the corner, but I had already snatched up the receiver.

But it was not Zahlfast again. Instead it was a servant in a livery I did not recognize, asking for the queen.

I found her in the great hall with the king, told her she had a call, and sat down to wonder what could have happened to Evrard and his employer. They could have been knifed for their purses, or been left alive but had everything stolen so that they had no way to pay for their passage home.