"Hafzifeh! I mean, Your Semi-Excellency!" It was Jengesh the page boy, in a sweat from having run up the stairs. "The Prince wants you right away, in the stables! Hurry!" "Now what?" I said, as I shoved Ralliballah's Eleven Ritual Forms under my desk blotter—the Prince had forbidden magic in the palace ever since his attempt to learn the Water Breathing spell had left him temporarily unable to breathe anything but water. (I'd told him he was inverting the fifth and sixth syllables, but he'd ignore me.) "Are the skeevers into the oats again?" Because it couldn't find any water to breathe.