Zeb woke in a small stone cell. There was a mat under him and a bucket in the corner. It reminded him irresistibly of the room in the monastery. He sat up and checked the door - very solidly made of oak and iron, also locked. A panel at the bottom looked like it swung out to allow a tray to be pushed into the room. At least he wasn't in chains. He sat down on his mat and tried to work through what was going on.

The abbot had to be in the city for a reason. Zeb doubted it had ...