Stregoni woke with a jerk, disoriented, fumbling automatically for his spectacles even as he heard the noise which had woken him - a frantic banging upon the front door of the apothecary.
Someone was in trouble.
Shoving his spectacles on his nose, he threw back his blankets and slid naked from bed, shivering as he fumbled in the dark for his clothes. He'd just buttoned his breeches and pulled on a shirt when his bedroom door flew open.
His mother was in her sleeping gown, a night robe thrown hastily over it, the belt loosely tied. Her long curly hair glowed like embers in the light of the candle she held. "Stregoni."
"What is it?" he asked, taking note of the trembling, shadowy figure behind her. "I'm nearly dressed." He sat down in a nearby chair to pull on his stockings, then fumbled
