The coolness of the stone wall at her back seeped into Sadie’s clothes and chilled her skin. Silence fell, only broken by the sound of water dripping somewhere out of sight, and she wondered if Kadar would answer her question. She was about to call out to him, unable to stand the oppressive atmosphere, when she heard him shift his weight around, as if looking for a more comfortable position.
“What is the last thing you were aware of?” he finally asked.
“Shortly after I sat next to Jalen. The curse reacted strongly to my energy, and it took a lot of concentration not to be swept away.”
“Then, by my estimation, when you were halfway through the healing there was a commotion in the hallway,” Kadar began. “My men attempted to handle the issue on their own. Due to your warning, none of them wished to open the door and interrupt for fear something would go wrong. But when the noise became a scuffle, I went to investigate.”
He stopped, and she prompted him to continue. “Who was fighting?”
“The queen’s men. They outmanned us three to one.” He sounded like he had just eaten a particularly sour lemon and didn’t much like the taste of it.
Sadie sucked in a breath. “The queen’s men? But why would they attack?”
“At first, it was too chaotic to determine the accusations.” Even though a stone wall separated them, Sadie heard flesh smack a wooden door. A fist? “A dry hell! The one thing I heard clearly was ‘get the witch!’” Kadar paused. “I’m sorry, Sadie.”