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I, Dacien

Chapter Two: Investiture

Silence filled the great stone chamber as Teodor Lord Fog finished. Dacien couldn't help but glance around the room at the minotaurs - the other minotaurs, he reminded himself. Although Lord Fog had wanted to tell his colleagues about Dacien as soon as possible, Ruus Lord Chimes had decided otherwise. The rest of the council would be told of Lord Fog's innovation at the next scheduled council meeting. Anything else, Lord Chimes had said, would risk more attention being drawn to Dacien then he was comfortable with. Lord Fog had argued, but ultimately, it was Lord Chimes' decision. Dacien thought that any plan that involved surprising the a group of minotaurs as inherently conservative as the mage's council was a poor plan, but if the decision wasn't Lord Fog's to make, it certainly wasn't Lord Fog's apprentice's decision, especially when the innovation in question was Lord Fog's discovery - or rediscovery - of a method to transform a human to a minotaur, and his proof was that same apprentice.

Probably the most important minotaur present was Cresphontes Lord Lycaili, the Patriarch of the entire Lycaili clan. He sat motionless and expressionless, as he had through the earlier public ceremony that had raised Trand to Lord Run, newest mage of Lycaili. Presumably Ruus had already discussed the matter with him, and so it was not the surprise to him it was to the remainder of the council. Or maybe the formalities that the minotaurs liked so much had given him enough practice in the impassive bland countenance that even something like this couldn't shake it. Xavien Lord Green had started the conference in a pleasant enough mood, but as Teodor had explained how he had found the feral human Dacien, discovered his unique magical skills, and then decided to transform him into a minotaur, Xavien had retreated into the same motionless stance as Cresphontes, although Xavien's unwavering expression was one of barely restrained fury rather than the serene calm of Cresphontes. Between Xavien and Cresphontes sat Ianthos Lord Winter and his apprentice, Tarsis. Dacien thought that was unfortunate seating, as the much smaller Tarsis only served to emphasize how large Xavien, Cresphontes, and Ianthos were. When he'd been human, and had a mere human's vision, Xavien had been a deep, glossy black. Now, with a minotaur's vision, Xavien's pelt shimmered with dark color, like oil catching the light as it floated over a pool of ink. Cresphontes, too, had that same dark iridescent quality, and Dacien wondered if and how closely the two might be related. Ianthos himself was a deep shimmering purple - Dacien wondered if that was the actual color of his pelt. It probably was; Dacien thought.

The confluence of magic was befuddling to him. A single mage wasn't bad; he'd gotten used to the cool wet gray that was Teodor's magic, and even when there had a been a second mage, he'd managed.. Practice with Teodor, however, had made him far more sensitive to the subtleties of his perceptions, and being in a room with seven other mages was ... distracting. Teodor's coolness hid the sharp, painful spikes of Metrios' magic. The heavy swell of Xavien's power mixed unpleasantly with the sharp cold bite of Ianthos. The faint, shifting buzz of Ruus' power tickled his bones. Tarsis's power constantly lurked just beyond vision, and Dacien couldn't even feel the much weaker power Trand. And through everything was the heavy, warm feeling of exhaustion that came from Sasha. Dacien's own signature was unique; his magic damped the signature of the others, and as an exercise, Teodor had set him to using that damping power to see how much of the council's magic he could quash, if he tried. Without concentrating, Dacien found that his own magic quieted the others, but it didn't entirely suppress it, and he wondered what Teodor would make of the results. His own magic, when he exerted himself - not doing anything, just concentrating on the faint, evanescent breeze of his own signature, sending it out, seemed to quell Metrios' and Sasha's power almost immediately. The chill severity of Ianthos was next, followed by the quirky see-me-and-don't quality of Tarsis' power. Ruus' signature faded next, and then the grayness that was Teodor's power. Then, and only then, did his power start quieting the heavy thick magic washing out from Xavien, but not completely, or even much.

The thick syrupy power poured out even more strongly as the ebon minotaur started talking. "I cannot believe that even you, Teodor, would have been so rash." Xavien said. Ianthos shifted slightly, to face him as the ebon minotaur continued. Dacien wasn't quite certain how the seating was determined, but by some unlucky circumstance, Teodor sat directly across from Xavien around the huge polished stone table. "This ..." he paused, looking at Dacien. "I am not sure what this is, but I do not think it is appropriate to be here."

"Excuse me, Xavien," and Sasha Lord Doze's lighter voice interrupted. "I regret that I do not follow your reasoning. Dacien is a mage, is he not?"

"He should not be," Xavien said grimly.

"We can discuss that later," Sasha said. "But, he is a mage. Is he not?"

"Yes," admitted Xavien.

"And he is Teodor's son."

Xavien stared angrily at Teodor. "Debatable."

"In what way?" broke in Ianthos. Ianthos had a voice like smooth wine; rich, deep, and calm. "What is there to debate?"

"Teodor cannot have a son who is human, and Dacien is human," Xavien ground out. "Brought up as a human, socialized as a human - if one can call a feral socialized - and I daresay he thinks of himself as human. Do you not, Dacien?"

"Stop." Cresphontes' voice was deeper even than Xavien's and it had a jarring buzz to it. "Regardless of whether Dacien is human or minotaur, he is entitled to either the respect you would show any minotaur apprentice, or the protection you would bestow on a human belonging to a fellow mage. Neither permits that sort of questioning, Xavien."

The other ebon minotaur nodded. "You are right, My Lord, and I beg your forgiveness."

"Still," Teodor said, "It's a fine question. I have no objection to my apprentice's answering it."

"No?" asked Sasha, looking surprised.

"No," said Teodor, calmly. "None. I grant it might have been asked in a more respectful way, but there is no question that it has bearing, and I see no reason why Dacien might not speak for himself."

"As his master," rumbled Cresphontes, "you undoubtedly have the right to ask him any question you wish."

Teodor smiled in appreciation of the ambiguity of the word, 'master'. "So I do," he said. "Dacien, it would please me greatly if you could respond to Xavien."

And just like that, every pair of eyes was staring directly at him. "Thank you, Master," Dacien said. He took a breath, and started. "I don't know, Lord Green. I suppose when I first woke up, after that ... accident with the mirrors, I did still think of myself as human. Now ... now I try to think of myself as Dacien. It's ... well. Waking up as a minotaur was ... very strange. I'm not sure I really understand all the differences between minotaur and human. I'm sure it's more than better vision, or strength, and ... I hope ..." Dacien faltered, looked around the room, and then at Teodor, who was watching him with ... expectation? Pride? Some combination? "I have seen a great deal of good ... of excellence. Courage, and ... great honesty, always," he said, looking back at Xavien. "I hope to do that well myself. Right now, I don't know that I know who or ... or what I am, yet. I owe my Master nothing less, both for the gift he has given me, and ... and for myself, as well."

Xavien snorted. "A pretty speech. Did you learn it from Teodor?"

"I have spoken at length with my Master about what it means to be a minotaur, and what it means to be human, Lord Green. I do not believe there is so great a distance as you seem to assume." Dacien looked up at the huge minotaur with all the calmness he could summon. "And I think I am the only one in a position to know, Lord Green."

Metrios chuckled. "An excellent point."

"Hilarious," said Xavien, coldly. "On Teodor's whim a feral human is proposed - catapulted - to our ranks, and asked to bear burdens that we, who most assuredly are minotaur, can find overwhelming. I am sure Dacien is a fine and perhaps even superior human, but that does not make him suitable as a clan member, nor as a member of this council. I am opposed to his joining us."

"Pardon me, Xavien, but ... is that not what the period of apprenticeship is for? To train and determine if a mage is rightly capable of joining us?" Teodor lifted his hands. "Perhaps I am wrong in my judgment. I think not, but then ... I know I might be wrong. That is what this council is for, to be the better part of all our judgments, is it not? I propose Dacien only as an apprentice. Nothing more."

"For now, yes." said Xavien. "Do not tell me that in fifty years you will not be back, arguing for his elevation."

"But that is the best case," Teodor said with a faint smile. "That is the case I hope we shall have. And if things turn out the way I hope - that Dacien is a skilled mage and honorable bull - I will happily make that argument. Perhaps you will even agree with me."

Xavien closed his eyes. "Does nobody see the potential for disaster?"

"Yes," said Sasha, seriously. "Of course we do. But Xavien, how is that worse than the disaster we risk with any apprentice? It seems no greater, and ... I suspect Dacien will have tighter supervision that most apprentices have."

"How ..." breathed the ebon minotaur. "How? Weren't you listening to Teodor?"

"I believe so," Sasha said, tentatively. "Did I miss something that should concern me?"

"Dacien's foolish magic-handling could have killed Teodor! I would have expected it to! After he'd been told not to! That would get any apprentice mage-locked."

"I admit to a great deal of trepidation over that," Teodor said, after a moment. "I finally decided against locking because, first, his gift seemed unique, and ... he was new to civilization."

"Both seem to me to be better reasons for locking such dangerous magery," Xavien said. "Much."

"There may be ... some truth to that," admitted Teodor. "And yet ... Ruus' vision sent him to me."

"Percipience? You seek to cover that terrible decision by blaming Ruus?"

The creamy minotaur stirred, as if to say something, but shook his head.

"The danger seemed mine," Teodor said, finally. "And I think ... I think events have shown it to be the right decision."

"Events may have shown it to be a fortuitous decision, but hindsight cannot justify it," Xavien said. "It was the wrong decision. It may have worked out well, but ... it was unquestionably the wrong decision."

"Perhaps," Teodor said. "But that does not make it the right decision now, either."

"Wait," Sasha broke in. "Teodor. Xavien. Both of you are missing a key point. Teodor, I believe you made the right decision ... for the wrong reasons."

"I did?"

"I look forward to that reasoning," said Xavien.

"You said another apprentice - any other apprentice - would have been mage-locked. Yes?"

"Yes," said Xavien.

"But any other apprentice would have been a minotaur," said Sasha.

"Are we not arguing that he is a minotaur?"

"He is, now. But he was not, then." Sasha smiled. "See?"

Teodor looked across at Xavien, who was staring at the brown minotaur. "Sasha, I don't think that's ... helpful."

"Not helpful at all," Xavien said.

"But he was human," said Sasha, as if that should clarify his position.

"Granted. More reason to lock him," said Ianthos.

"But that is true only if you blame his judgment," Sasha said, surprised. "And you cannot!"

"I certainly can," said Xavien, quellingly. "I do."

"But he's human!"

"Sasha," rumbled Cresphontes, warningly.

"But he's ..." and Sasha stopped, flustered. He tried again. "You're ... he was under Teodor's influence, of course! A feral human, just introduced to a minotaur. Of course he wasn't thinking. Of course he acted to save Teodor! What else could he do? It's ... it's ridiculous, absurd, a ... a travesty, to judge him for that! If he'd known Teodor longer, been more settled, been around minotaurs before ... then yes, certainly. But after a mere two days? How can you even consider holding him responsible?"

There was a moment of silence at this; even Xavien looked taken aback.

"Do you know," said Teodor, wonderingly. "I think ..."

"Sasha is exactly right," Ianthos said firmly. "Exactly. Thank you, Sasha. I believe the rest of us missed that cogent and extremely germane point. Entirely."

"Completely missed it," agreed Metrios. "Yes, Sasha."

Xavien's fingers tapped the table in some emotion that Dacien could not judge. "Yes, thank you, Sasha." The ebon minotaur did not look particularly grateful, thought. He turned to look at Dacien again. "Human. Yes."

"Then," said Sasha calmly.

"Human," repeated Xavien.

"Then," Sasha said in an agreeable tone. "Yes. Without doubt."

"And Teodor's actions with Anthante? Are we to overlook that, as well?"

"They were ... hasty, perhaps," Ianthos said somberly. "But Teodor was well within his rights. And responsibilities."

"That was not a deed that redounds to the benefit of Lycaili. I question his judgment."

"I," said Cresphontes, "have met General Anthante. I endorse Teodor's actions. Did you, Xavien, ever meet him?"

"No," the ebon minotaur said. "Nor will I."

Ianthos stirred. "Xavien, Anthante was an ass. Even Nikos thought he was an ass."

Xavien shook his head. "Very well, then. Does this council likewise endorse Teodor's reckless experimentation with his transformation spell? Because, I think the right course of action would have been to bring it to us, and let the matter be examined. Did not Sasha a moment ago point out a critical flaw in my thinking? One that Teodor made, and Ianthos, and Metrios?"

"Ah," said Teodor. "Well. As to that. I plead ... almost guilty."

"Almost?" said Metrios.

"Almost. I did ... consider bringing the matter here. After a great deal of thought, I ... decided not to." Teodor sighed. "My brothers, this council is ... conservative. Very. We always trod the path of caution. I pondered this, over and over, and I became convinced of two things. First, that this spell is ... needed. It was done in the days of the Creators, after all."

"And the other?" Xavien pressed.

"That ... it was too valuable to permit the council a chance to reject it." Teodor looked around the table. "Brothers, imagine for a moment that I had laid this before you, ten, fifty, eighty years ago. I can imagine only one response: that I would have been forbidden to do it. And that would have been the wrong decision."

"So you are wiser than every other member of this council?" asked Xavien.

"That ... that is for you to judge," Teodor said calmly. "I believe I did not exceed my authority. The experiment was made, and its results are before you, and ... now, that you can see what I have accomplished, what benefits it has brought us, that I have the proof it works ... now, I submit all of this to your judgment. But I could not let it be stillborn."

"I do not accept that this human mage's power is as ... critical as you suggest," Xavien said, "but if it were, then how do you justify your experimenting on him?"

Teodor smiled for a brief moment. "In the simplest possible way. Because I knew it would work."

"How could you possibly ..." and then Xavien fell silent. "Oh."

All of the mages were looking at Teodor, now, most with surprise, although Sasha said, "I missed that," in a puzzled tone.

"Chelm was your first experiment, then?" asked Ianthos, as an oblique answer.

"Oh," said Sasha, under his breath, a soft sigh of enlightenment.

"Yes."

The ebon minotaur's eyes narrowed, and Xavien continued his attack. "Your first successful experiment. How many experiments ... failed?"

"Six," said Teodor. "If you can count them as such. Nobody was in any danger, nor was anyone harmed."

"Really," said Xavien. "And you just got lucky with the seventh?"

"Not luck," Teodor said tightly. "The first six were ... to be certain the procedure was safe. I needed to test each element in isolation, before combining them."

"I see your point," said Ianthos. "But ... I don't know that I agree."

"I was not reckless," Teodor said. "I thought long and hard about everything I have done. I felt the risk was ... acceptable. Controllable. And success ... well, success would be valuable."

"Yes," said Metrios. "There is that. Chelm is ... very much a success."

"Thank you," said Teodor.

Xavien took a deep breath, and then let it out. "Ianthos?"

"I think Teodor knew he should have brought this to us, and did not," Ianthos said.

"Trand?" asked Xavien.

The newest lord shook his head. "I agree with Ianthos, and yet ... I am not sure Teodor was wrong."

The ebon mage turned to the remaining lord. "Ruus?"

"I wish Teodor had brought this to us, but ... I agree with Trand. It may be that Teodor was right."

Teodor nodded to the cream-colored minotaur. "Thank you, Ruus."

"Metrios?"

"I am with Trand, as well."

"Sasha?"

The small brown minotaur shook his head. "I don't know. I think ... I think this is the most difficult of all Teodor's actions, and yet ... we are the mages of Lycaili. It's our responsibility to make decisions like this. Where does prudent inaction turn into dereliction of responsibility? Maybe I would have made a different decision than Teodor - I think I would have, like most of you, and yet ... I think it was his decision to make." Sasha took a deep breath. "I am with Trand."

Ianthos took a breath. "You ... yes. I must agree; it was properly Teodor's decision to make, or to bring here. I still wish he'd brought it here."

"Cresphontes?" asked Ruus, turning to the Lycaili patriarch deferentially.

"The council seems ... with the single exception of you, Xavien, to ... if not approve, then to fail to disapprove of Teodor. Do you still disapprove?"

Xavien looked over at the dull gray form of Teodor. "I do. Teodor may have ... not been reckless, but it was still foolish. Teodor made the decision he wanted to make, which is why questions like this are properly brought before all of us. I wonder if perhaps Teodor wasn't under Dacien's influence."

"Perhaps," said Teodor coolly. "And yet I am no stranger to humans, unlike Dacien, who was a stranger to minotaurs. I will not defend my decision further. I accept the consequences of it, and the judgment of this council."

"It appears we cannot reach a consensus, Lord Cresphontes," Ruus said.

The Lycaili patriarch nodded. "You are still not convinced, Xavien?"

"I am not," Xavien said. "This should not have been done."

The Patriarch drew a deep breath, and let it out, looking around the table. "I disagree," Cresphontes said finally. "If Teodor wants a son, then nothing prevents him from having one. He chose an ... unusual path to paternity, I admit, but I do not think we can question his decision." The minotaur stared directly at Dacien. "Both Chelm and Dacien are welcome additions to Lycaili. As to whether my Lord Fog used his magic unwisely ... I defer to my council, whose sense is that Lord Fog's magic was his to use or refrain from using."

Xavien nodded. "Very well."

"I ask my council to refrain from further applications of this ... this transformation process, until I have had more time to think about it, and perhaps talk to some of the other Lycaili lords."

"That seems eminently reasonable," said Teodor. "Since we now have information and results, rather than supposition and guesswork, on which to base our decisions."

Cresphontes nodded. "I think it's important that Dacien learn what kind of responsibility he is taking on, as soon as possible, now, rather than at the end of his apprenticeship."

"Yes," said Xavien, relieved. "I will take him."

Teodor looked alarmed. "That is a fine idea, but ... he's my apprentice."

"No longer," Cresphontes said. "It's not appropriate for you to have your son as your own apprentice. It's a problem of objectivity."

"Quite so." said Xavien.

"It is," Teodor agreed, slowly. "But I must wonder ... would anyone else be more objective?"

"I trust so," Xavien said.

"No," Cresphontes said. "Without questioning your teaching skills or objectivity, Xavien, I don't think you're the right mentor for Dacien either. I would like ... Sasha to take on Dacien."

"Me?" The brown minotaur sounded surprised.

"Yes," said Cresphontes. "You are my choice." The Patriarch looked around the table. "Are there any objections?"

"One," said Metrios. "I love Sasha dearly. But can he teach Dacien how not to fall into lens addiction?"

"Probably not," admitted Sasha, sounding a little sheepish.

"I think Sasha underestimates himself," said Cresphontes with a deliberative calmness. "Does anyone know more about lens addiction than Sasha?" The Patriarch waited a moment for anyone else to speak. "I thought not. Also, if understood Teodor rightly, Dacien is singularly unsuited to being a lens."

"That is painfully true," Teodor said. "Using Dacien as a lens is like ... well, aiming dye over a waterfall. There's a resonance with his own signature that produces an erratic amplification effect that, so far, I have been unable to control." The gray minotaur looked at Sasha. "Sasha may have better results, of course."

"Perhaps I might," said Sasha, politely, but clearly, disagreeing.

"Nevertheless," Cresphontes continued. "Xavien. Does this address your concerns?"

"Some of them," Xavien said. "I point out I have the greatest experience with training lenses, and I remain concerned over ... your plans for the ... best case situation."

"In the best of all possible worlds, there would be no such concern, and you will have ample opportunity to be heard." said Cresphontes. "And though I love you dearly, I do not think you are well-suited to train Dacien."

The ebon minotaur mage turned to contemplate Dacien. "You are determined to accept him, then."

"I am determined to give him an opportunity," Cresphontes corrected, coolly. "Whether I accept him ... depends on him."

"That is just, and fair, and reasonable," said Xavien, biting out each word. "I hope it turns out to be wise, as well. I say hope, since ... I think otherwise. Sasha's Guard, I believe, has twenty-one bulls, and three more officers of his House?"

The brown minotaur nodded uncertainly. "Yes. Why do you comment on it?"

"We have no idea why Teodor and myself were attacked," Xavien said, after a moment. "We assumed we were the intended targets. I ... I now wonder if that was a fair assumption."

"You think Dacien was the target?" Teodor asked, surprised. "I thought we agreed that was at the fringe of possibility."

"Something rather put it into my mind, strongly. After all, Ruus is not the only mage with percipience," Xavien said, quietly. "What seemed unlikely then, has changed its complexion with these new developments." The ebon minotaur paused, looking around the table. "I admit I have spent a great deal of time pondering the incident, and it becomes constantly more mysterious. I am no longer so ready to rule out scenarios, since that leaves me with, well, a great dearth of scenarios."

"Then ... Dacien requires protection. Above and beyond what an apprentice might, normally." said Cresphontes heavily. "Agreed. I will deal with it; let us move on."

"Then ..." said Xavien slowly, "I do not oppose this consensus, even if I cannot join it. I do have another thought. We might simplify the situation, give Dacien more time to adjust to minotaur, let him concentrate on a single challenge at a time."

"How?" asked Trand, sounding interested.

"Magelock him." Xavien glanced calmly around the table. "Temporarily. For five years or so, a short time, let him adjust to being a minotaur without worrying about being a mage."

Nobody said anything, and Xavien seemed content to let the group think about it. Teodor stirred, and seemed about to say something, but apparently thought better of it.

After a minute, Ruus finally spoke up. "Intriguing. There is some merit to the suggestion. I would not oppose it."

"I do," said Ianthos almost immediately. "I believe this is offered not because it would assist Dacien - although I grant it might do so - but because it would bring his magic under control. As such, it is - and cannot be seen as anything other than - a gesture of distrust." He looked directly across the table at Dacien. "I see no reason for such a thing."

"I agree with Ianthos," Metrios said a moment later. "I do not grant that it might be helpful to Dacien. As a token of our distrust, it would be poison. He would resent us, and ... I could not blame him."

"I am less certain," Trand said diffidently. "Magery is dangerous; apprentices die mastering their powers. He might be willing to put them aside for a time."

"We could ask, I suppose," said Teodor quietly. "I'm sure nobody would be surprised to hear that I oppose it, and to Metrios's thoughts I add that I feel we need his talents."

"There's a more serious issue with the suggestion," Sasha said dryly. "Xavien speaks blithely of unlocking him once he was magelocked. Although I admit to the theoretical possibility of such ... I have never done it. I don't know of any case where it ever has been done. It may be reversible. It may not. It may cause permanent damage. I don't know."

"Then I oppose it," said Ruus.

"As do I," said Trand.

"Put that way, it does seem ... reckless," said Teodor, with a tiny grin. "If I might call it so."

Xavien shrugged. "I had thought that perhaps, if you would not do the right thing for the right reason, you might do it for the wrong reason." He took a deep breath. "I have no more straws to proffer."

"Other than your feeling that this is a very bad thing?" asked Sasha.

"I offered that already," Xavien said. "Without some stronger reason to add to it, it was judged insufficient."

"Well, I am not so eager to discount your intuition," Sasha said. "I assure you, I will be alert, and watching for problems. And perhaps discovering just what problems might arise may well be worthwhile in and of itself. Does that reassure you?"

"Somewhat," said Xavien. "I'm not sure why; it seems like speculation heaped atop guesswork." The ebon minotaur gazed thoughtfully over at Dacien, who tried to remain calm. "I am not comfortable with it, but it will have to do."

"Thank you," Cresphontes said gravely. "I believe Ruus had another issue to bring before us?"

"Yes," the cream-colored minotaur said. "Two, really. First. We have discovered, thanks to Dacien and Teodor, that the far-talking spells are not secure. I do not know if anyone has listened to us, and we have not yet developed a means to listen to others, but ... we know it is possible. So I have withheld some sensitive information; I crave your indulgence."

There was a brief mutter of agreement, and Ruus continued. "Next. We have shared a great deal of information on ninja. Two matters are extremely sensitive, and must remain within this council for now. They are not to be discussed outside this room."

"As bad as that," said Ianthos, sounding both surprised and deeply unhappy.

"I fear so. Ourobouros and Ungoliant are planning to create ninja," Ruus said. "The Lord of Bones told us himself, and we have ... credible information on Ungoliant. Venrir is looking to do so, as well, but we believe they do not have the knowledge to do so." Ruus looked around. "We have the knowledge and capability to do so, or rather, we expect to acquire that working knowledge shortly. The question before us is ... should we do so?"

"We should add a codicil to the Xarbydis truces, outlawing ninja, that's what we should do," said Ianthos. "This benefits nobody."

"Agreed," said Teodor, and he was quickly followed by all of the others, Trand speaking last.

Cresphontes nodded. "I am in favor of this as well. Strongly. Ianthos. That will be your task. But, since the Truces do not at present forbid the creation of ninja, that brings us directly back to the original question. Should we train ninja?"

"No," said Teodor instantly. "It is an abhorrent practice."

"I am not far from agreeing," Xavien said. "But that ... is that relevant? What other way can we defend ourselves?"

"I believe Ianthos suggested an effective strategy not even a moment ago," Teodor said. "First, we outlaw the practice. I note that a training program has ... requirements. A physical location. Facilities. Minotaur to be trained, and not just minotaur, but minotaur with significant tempus potential. There will be, must be, tracks. Clues. We can determine who is training ninja and take steps to express our disapproval."

"We can," Metrios agreed. "And yet, until and unless Ianthos succeeds in adding such a codicil ... it is a heavy burden of defense for our guard. If only a grandmaster can hope to thwart a ninja-led attack, then we needs must rely on our grandmasters. And we do not have enough to protect everyone who needs to be protected."

"Metrios speaks nothing but truth," Trand said. "And our responsibilities are to the Clan first."

"Metrios has spoken my thoughts exactly," said Sasha.

"Is this not exactly like the war-spells?" Teodor said, speaking directly to Sasha. "Were you not the voice of reason, counseling that we should wait until we were forced to use them?"

"The war-spells we could pull out at short notice," Sasha said. "I do not know how long it takes to train a ninja, but I do not imagine it is a quick process."

"Five to twelve years," said Teodor, "if I understand correctly. But the process is ... abhorrent. And ... once started, the trainee is ... damaged. Permanently. Not all who undergo training survive."

"How many survive?" asked Ruus.

"I do not know," said Teodor. "The reference I have suggests only that ... success is not guaranteed. It suggests that selecting promising candidates is a critical step." The gray minotaur's face had an expression of distaste. "Do not ask me what is meant by 'promising candidate.' I do not know. I do not want to know."

"You must find out, Teodor," said Cresphontes. "You will travel to Ouroborous, and investigate the Lord of Bone's references."

"How? I have some bargaining power with Nikos, but ... what did you have in mind?"

"He expressed interest in your references," Cresphontes said, "when he was here. He made it clear that he did not need them, but they would be helpful. It suggests that he has the - pardon the phrase - the bare bones of such a program." The Patriarch paused for a moment, and addressed Teodor more directly. "As do we, if I understand you correctly?"

"Yes," said Teodor.

"And you can extract more ... ah. Have you shared that quirk with Trand?"

"No," said Teodor. "It was restricted.

"Enlighten him." Cresphontes sighed. "And the apprentices, as well."

"As you command," Teodor said. "Trand, you are aware, of course, that I have a primary affinity for water and air, and a secondary affinity for fire."

"And none for earth, yes, I am aware."

"I have found that ... with meditation and concentration, I can pull the remnant context from written materials. Sometimes. The trick fails with things copied by scribes. But writings by a scholar, if they have been put to paper with his hand, I can ... pull more meaning from the words, gain the author's insight into the matter."

"That is remarkable," said Trand. "I have never heard of such a thing."

"To the best of my knowledge, no other mage has duplicated this magic. Neither Ianthos nor Sasha could follow it."

"I see why you are such an effective researcher!"

"It helps," Teodor said. "Not always, and perhaps not as much as you might think. Sometimes it is better than others. Unfortunately, the only written reference I have on ninja was scribe-copied. No additional context lurks within it for me to extract." Teodor paused. "Well. No useful context. The scribe was much concerned with reproducing precisely the lettering style, and the problems of faded ink."

"Written reference?" asked Ianthos. "What other information do you have?"

"I have learned much from Dapple," Teodor said. "There is much he remains unaware of, but ... I have detected the tracks of magic in his mind. Much of the training is simply training, but some of it involves magically sensitizing the individual to the use of tempus. Of course, this is destructive to the personality and mind and soul of the trainee." Teodor looked around the table. "I should say, victim. It is a vile practice."

"With ritual magic, or mindbending techniques?" asked Sasha, intently. Ritual magic? wondered Dacien.

"An interesting question," Teodor said slowly. "I believe that is presumed to be done ritually. But I also believe it could be reproduced by a mindbender. If ... if this council's consensus is that this thing should be done, it will require experimentation, mindbending, to determine exactly how and what needs to happen. At that point, I'm sure a talented magician could then construct an appropriate ritual. But ... the thing revolts me." Teodor paused. "I am not sure I could bring myself to do it. I see what it has done to my poor Dapple, and ... I am sorry. The thought of doing that to anyone fills me with disgust and horror. I can kill - I have killed. But this ... this is an unclean thing to do."

"I understand," said Cresphontes, compassionately. "It is abhorrent. Nevertheless, I must ask if you are willing to continue your research into the matter?"

Teodor nodded gravely. "I am, My Lord Patriarch."

"Then Ruus will arrange for you to take Dapple to Ouroborous, and you will cooperate with the Lord of Bones in advancing his program. You do not have and will not receive my permission to involve yourself in any direct mindbending."

"Thank you," said Teodor. "That ... I appreciate that."

"We must know more about ninja," Cresphontes said. "Perhaps, Teodor, you can invent some means of protecting us from them that does not involve our creating them ourselves. That would be by far the best solution."

"Do you believe such exists?" asked Teodor. "Or are you simply assuaging my conscience?"

"I believe that if anyone can find such a solution, it will be you. And I am certain you will devote your formidable powers of invention to that end," said Cresphontes. He turned to Sasha. "Sasha?"

"I agree with Teodor that such a program would be abhorrent," Sasha said. "But I agreed with Metrios, as well, so I can hardly object if it is my hands that must be dirty." The brown minotaur looked down at the table. "If it must be done, well, then I must do it."

"I will do my best to see that neither of you have to contemplate such a thing," Ianthos said. "And I think I can get agreement quickly from most clans - because most clans have no idea how to make ninja. I am sure Venris considers it an unpleasant thing. And once we have a solid majority behind a ban, even Ungoliant should fall in line. It is, after all, to their benefit as well."

"It is?" asked Trand. "Pardon me, Ianthos, but I don't understand that."

"It is, I assure you," Ianthos nodded as he spoke. "Ungoliant has always been a powerful military clan - much of their influence comes from their army. Ninja undercut that power. Imagine, say, Ancalagon. They have nowhere near the militia that Ungoliant has, but if they could bring twenty or so ninja into the picture, then they would be in a much stronger position. For example."

"But then why should the smaller clans be in favor of a ban?" asked Metrios.

Ianthos shrugged. "Because they don't know how to train ninja. Because many - most, I hope - will be as enthusiastic to avoid doing so as we are. Because they will be against change of the current political situation. Because ninja would be disruptive. Because of a thousand reasons. Trust me, I can make a very good case to any clan, strong or weak, that banning ninja is in their interest."

"Ianthos knows his business," Cresphontes said. "If anyone can seal this jar of horrors, it is he. Very well. Sasha will take on Dacien as an apprentice, Teodor will continue his research in Ouroborous, and Ianthos will see what support he can get for extending the Truces against ninja."

"Pardon me," said Ruus.

"Yes," said Cresphontes.

"Suppose Ianthos succeeds. How, then, do we deal with whoever is training ninja? Now and then?"

"For now, as we are," said Cresphontes. "For then, we will take thought. Some clans, at least, will support us. Teodor will have learned more. Perhaps even come up with a solution." The ebon minotaur's impassivity vanished behind a brief smile. "Do not discount his marvelous ingenuity."

Ruus nodded, but he was clearly still unhappy. "As you say."

"Good," Cresphontes said. "Then this council is closed. Lord Fog, Lord Doze, Mage Dacien. Please stay behind, I would like a word with each of you."

They waited until the others had left, and Cresphontes shook his head. "I owe you a word of explanation."

"Yes," said Teodor.

"I do not agree with Xavien. Obviously. But ... he has the right to be concerned. I know it seems high-handed, but somehow ... you bring out the very worst in Xavien, Teodor. I judge that he will be ... less frantic if the two matters most upsetting to him are separated, and Sasha ... Sasha should be reassuring to him."

"I suppose," said Teodor. "Yes, I know. And I am sorry. I know I provoke him but ... he's so ... I just can't help it."

"Dearly as I love you, Teodor, I could wish you would try harder," Cresphontes said. "Much is not your fault. He seems to distrust anything new with a caution verging on paranoia, and you ... you are filled with creativity and have a love for experimentation that ... well, I think that itself provokes him." Cresphontes sighed. "And really, it does seem inappropriate for a father to be mentor to his son. Yes, even if he's the best suited to it, and I don't disagree that you are best suited to handle something as, hmmm, unusual as Dacien's talents."

"I thank you," said Teodor. "But, if I may ask, why choose Sasha? I would think Metrios ..."

Cresphontes sighed. "I have good reasons, Teodor, but I don't wish to discuss them now."

"As you will," said Teodor.

"Thank you, Teodor," Cresphontes said. "I understand you've started your own guard."

"Yes."

"But you only have a senior warlord - Filius - you have not made him Master of Guard?"

"No. I gave him the senior position to let me - and him - see if he were, in fact, prepared for that task. But he is not. To his credit, I think he realized that he is overmatched."

"I concur. But you must have a Master of Guard if you're going into Ouroborous."

Teodor nodded. "Yes. I don't pretend I can do it."

"Would you accept Osaze for the duration?" Cresphontes asked. "And Demilos as your Master of Time? You have what, eight bulls now?"

"Yes," said Teodor.

"Then I will have Osaze bring another twelve. And that means Boris can serve as your Master of House. Will that be suitable?"

Teodor nodded. "I can think of no one better suited."

"One of Osaze's bulls will be Polychrome." Cresphontes said with a touch of hesitation.

"I see," said Teodor. "Will he or I be in command of this mission?"

Cresphontes sighed. "Would it offend you if he were?"

"It is entirely reasonable for one such as he to have command," Teodor said stiffly. "Nor can I suggest that there is any mage better suited to the task than I. If you think it best to have him in command, then, My Lord, that is what you must do."

Cresphontes fixed Teodor with a mild stare. "Lord Fog. That is not an answer to my question."

Teodor took a deep breath. "If he be in command, My Lord, I will obey him as if he were you, and respect him as the bull to whom you have given that authority. I do not see what other answer I should need to give."

"Again that was not the question I asked, Lord Fog, but ... you are correct. This is a critical matter, Lord Fog, and ... I need Polychrome in Ouroborous with you. He will have overall command, and I will have words with him on what support he may - and may not - ask of you."

Teodor nodded. "Of course."

"You'll need to return to Mistingrise before you depart, Teodor. I want to talk to you, Osaze, and Polychrome before you leave - Please tell Ysidore to set time aside for that."

"I shall, Lord Patriarch. I have one request."

"Oh?"

"I requested that a particular feral be remanded to me, from the second invasion, and Nikohorus was kind enough to grant it. He should be arriving from back from Ouroborous, tomorrow or the day after. I should ask that he accompany Sasha."

Cresphontes stared at him for a moment, and then shook his head. "Impossible."

"It is impossible today, I grant. Nor would I care to swing that sword ... but surely, we should sharpen it. And ... there may be other benefits, too, my Lord."

"Pardon me, my Lord, Lord Fog," said Sasha, "but why would I take a feral with me? It would slow us down considerably."

"For the same reason you are taking Dacien," said Cresphontes. "I am ... the thing is too ambitious, Lord Fog, it is impossible."

"What use would that be?" asked Sasha, still puzzled.

"None," said Cresphontes.

"It would be enlightening," insisted Teodor. "Surely Lord Doze and his guard could keep one feral under control!"

"Well, certainly we could," said Sasha. "But I still don't see why ..."

"What you are missing, Sasha, is that this particular feral was the senior military commander," said Cresphontes. "Teodor is contemplating releasing him, or at least the possibility thereof, where he could take his experience back with him."

The brown minotaur paused, considering. "But that's an excellent idea," said Sasha, turning to Cresphontes. "A marvelous idea! Why don't we do that? The very thing!"

"My lords!" said Cresphontes. "Impossible!" He paused. "Teodor will assume ownership of this feral. He is just a feral, a boon begged from Nikohorus by Teodor. I do not want to be brought into the matter; it is nothing that concerns me."

"But, My Lord, this is a great opportunity," the brown minotaur said plaintively. "Just because ..."

"No, no," said Teodor quellingly. "Sasha, consider. The Patriarch is right, he has given the matter his consideration, and he made his opinion known." Sasha turned to the gray minotaur with a look of confusion. "Why don't I explain it later?"

"Yes, do," said Cresphontes. "Now. I wanted to talk to Sasha?"

"Of course, Lord Patriarch." and then Teodor bowed, and left the room. Sasha watched him go, and turned back to Cresphontes as the door closed.

Sasha regarded the Patriarch dubiously. "What did you want, my Lord?"

"What I wanted was to talk to Dacien," Cresphontes said. "For this trip, I'm assigning Chelm to assist Milos, though."

"Grandmaster Chelm will undoubtedly be delighted to serve under my Master of Time," said Sasha, even more dubiously. "I trust."

"He has the certainty of youth, and ... of his own competence, which I admit, has taken me something by surprise. According to Kanail, he's the best tempus master we have. Excluding Kanail, of course."

"Of course," said Sasha, with a chuckle.

"Then you haven't heard. Ruus has informed me that Chelm will become a mage."

The brown minotaur froze. "That cannot be a jest."

"No."

Sasha shook his head. "Well, then. We can certainly use another mage, and from his record, I suspect he will be as frighteningly imaginative as Teodor, if ... perhaps, less inclined to push our boundaries." The brown minotaur smiled. "Perhaps it will make Xavien happier, having Chelm to keep watch on Teodor."

That got a tiny smile in return from Cresphontes. "Indeed. But what you don't know, is that Chelm is not merely the result of one of Teodor's experiments - he is also the subject."

"My Lord?"

"Teodor caused him to become a potential mage. Ruus knows that, and I am adding you to that circle."

Sasha turned to Dacien. "Am I to take the memory from him?"

Cresphontes snorted. "More precisely, Dacien somehow made Chelm a potential mage. Apparently he did it once by accident, and Teodor wanted to know if he could replicate the process." A wintry smile crossed the ebon minotaur's face. "He can. Obviously."

"Oh," said Sasha, faintly. "Does ... Xavien doesn't know, does he?"

"Just you, Ruus, and myself. Nikohorus ... knows we have the capability. He may know that Dacien is the one, he may not. We hope not." Cresphontes nodded at Dacien. "He's a mage, but ... he seems to be one with an unusual affinity."

"Ah," said Sasha, in that same tone. "Puzzling. One hesitates to ask, but ... what does Teodor think Dacien's affinity might be?"

"Magic." Cresphontes said. "Dacien sees the patterns of magic, can affect spells as they are cast, and ... apparently, trigger magic in others."

"Folly!" said Sasha, giving Dacien a perturbed look. "And you hand this ... this ... what did you call it? Jar of horrors? To me? I'm supposed to cope with this?"

"In short, My Lord Doze, yes," Cresphontes said, enunciating carefully. "You underestimate yourself. I think you will do well as a mentor. Dacien has been able to learn the spells Teodor showed him, and the spells Teodor has devised, but ... he apparently had trouble telling what they do. But more importantly than that, Dacien needs to see just what a mage's responsibilities are, what a minotaur's responsibilities are, and how they are handled. You yourself have ... transitioned to a vastly more involved role." Cresphontes sighed. "I know it wasn't easy for you, but you did ... admirably. I am hoping your experience can help inform his."

Sasha nodded. "As you command." He paused, and looked at Dacien again, more critically. "Oh, dear," he said. The brown minotaur thought for a moment, and added, "and Teodor ... oh, dear." The brown minotaur looked at Dacien. "Oh, dear. I ... oh."

"What?" asked Cresphontes.

"I don't know where to start," Sasha said, shaking his head. "But Xavien would be a good place. You will have to tell him, eventually."

"Eventually," said Cresphontes. "I'll want you there."

Sasha sighed. "If you command it."

"I do."

"You put him under a great deal of stress, with no way to resolve it," Sasha said softly.

"I have no choice in the matter," Cresphontes said.

"No, of course not."

Cresphontes nodded. "So. Dacien." Somehow, without moving, Dacien felt the Patriarch's attention congeal on him.

"My Lord Patriarch."

Cresphontes nodded very slightly. "Teodor believes that you will be a valuable addition to our Clan. Your mage-gifts, too, are welcome. I have known Teodor's father - Thaddios. Did he ever mention Thaddios?"

"No, My Lord Patriarch, at least, not by name."

"It must seem strange, to acquire family so suddenly. Did Dacien the human have family?"

Dacien blinked. "Not really, Lord Patriarch. There might be some, but I haven't - hadn't - spoken with them in years."

The ebon minotaur gestured at the chair Ianthos had left. "Have a seat, please." Cresphontes looked over at Sasha, and then back. "I will admit Xavien is right about this being ... awkward," the ebon minotaur admitted. "Usually, I know ... a great deal about the bulls I meet. I know what their teachers think of them, what they've accomplished, their parents, often what they themselves want." Another quick smile danced across his face. "And, of course, they know a lot about me." Cresphontes gestured. "But ... I know almost nothing about you, Dacien, and ... I expect you know very little about me." The Patriarch thought for a moment. "It will be easier, I think, if we can speak with the informality of friends, if you would not find that too familiar."

"No, Sir. I mean, I'm sorry, I mean Cresphontes." Dacien swallowed. It just felt wrong to address the ... the ... well, he wasn't sure, even now, exactly what Cresphontes was, other than very, very important.

"I understand, Dacien," Cresphontes said, and Dacien thought he heard a faint hint of humor. "Ask."

"I don't understand," Dacien started.

"Ask me what you would like to know," Cresphontes said gently.

"What ... I know you're the Patriarch of Lycaili, but, I ... I don't know what that means, Cresphontes."

The ebon minotaur nodded. "Not unreasonable at all. That's ... an interesting question. I command Lycaili, advised by my Council, the Circle of Mages, the Circle of Houses, and the Circle of Guilds. To the extent they make decisions, they do so in my name, and with my approval."

"That ... I see." Dacien wondered what to ask. What are you going to do with me seemed out. What am I going to do he wouldn't know. He decided on, "I suppose I represent a lot of problems for you. I'm sorry, and ... I'd like to know what I can do to help you with them."

Hard as Cresphontes was to read, Dacien still thought he saw a flicker of interest in the minotaur's eyes. "Thank you," Cresphontes said. "I appreciate that." The ebon minotaur took a breath, and then another. "First, I would say you represent them, you are not them. Although the matter is complex, and I am sure the extreme traditionalists will not see it this way, Lycaili has a long history of welcoming new blood into our clan, and ... you are that."

"Lord Green being ... traditionalist?"

"He is," Cresphontes said. "Ianthos and Metrios also prefer traditional approaches; Ruus and Sasha are more ... adventurous. Teodor favors ... well. Untraditional approaches, I suppose I could say. Trand ... I don't know where Trand will fit, yet. He seems to waver between Ianthos and Ruus."

Dacien nodded. "But ... what can I do to make this easier?"

"That's ... well. Let us suppose, for a moment, that you were not a mage, but a minotaur, as in fact you are, but from some other clan, among us for ... what? Three months?"

"Almost," Dacien said.

"Well. And then you were asked if you wanted to join us." Cresphontes said. "I don't think that's enough time."

"But ..."

"It's not enough time," Cresphontes repeated. "All I want is ..."

"Pardon me, My Lord," Sasha said.

"Excuse me," the ebon minotaur said. "My Lord Doze?"

"Lord Fog begs, on behalf of Grandmaster Kanail and himself, a moment of your time, to address a question of kinship and property."

"What?"

"He regrets that the matter is, to Grandmaster Kanail, beyond urgent, and only by assuring the Grandmaster that he would petition you immediately has he prevented the Grandmaster from entering the chamber," Sasha said. "No, My Lord, I don't ..." Sasha paused.

"Lord Fog repeats that Grandmaster Kanail is ... extremely upset," said Sasha, "and adds that he believes the matter is worth your attention."

Cresphontes sighed. "I take it Lord Fog cannot settle the matter himself?"

"If he could, he would have," Sasha said.

Cresphontes nodded tiredly. "Yes, I know, one just hopes ... Dacien, I am sorry ... I am in agreement with Teodor on you, as is Sasha. If, after you have mastered your magics, you wish to join Lycaili, then ... then I think Lycaili will be most fortunate. But time and only time will ease the fears of ... those who are fearful. Does that make sense?"

"It does. Thank you, My Lord Patriarch."

"Now, Sasha, if you would please let Lord Fog know that he and the Grandmaster may ..."

The doors slammed open as a visibly furious black-and-white minotaur stalked in. For a moment, Dacien thought it was Dapple, but no, Dapple was following Lord Fog, who was walking in more calmly - almost apologetically, Dacien thought.

"My Lord!" said the first one, and it was Dapple's voice, raised in anger and frustration - and then Dacien realized it wasn't coming from Dapple, but from the other one. "My Lord! A moment of your time, My Lord!"

"Yes, of course," Cresphontes said, in a calm, welcoming voice that somehow still clearly conveyed that he wasn't at all pleased by the interruption. Dacien took a prudent step back, and then Lord Doze caught his eye, gesturing behind him. That seemed like an appropriate place for an apprentice, mage or otherwise, and Dacien moved there with relief.

"What seems to be of concern?"

"This!" the word boiled out of the minotaur, and he raised his hand, indicating Dapple, who simply stood calmly with Teodor. "My Lord!"

"Lord Fog's ninja," said Cresphontes, and Dacien thought the Patriarch sounded uncertain.

"Lord .." started the other, and then he paused. "My Lord. Look at him. Look at him!"

Cresphontes turned to look at Dapple, as indeed did everyone other than Teodor and Dapple himself. All Dacien saw was Dapple, standing calmly. There was a long silence.

"He appears to be in good health," Cresphontes finally said.

"Good ... My Lord! Look at him! And look at me!"

Cresphontes turned back to the intruder, and ... Dacien felt it rather than saw it, a moment of hesitation, no more. Sasha just seemed to freeze. Dacien glanced at Teodor, but the gray minotaur was just standing there, wearily. And then Dacien looked at the new minotaur, who sounded like Dapple. Who was the same height, and looked like Dapple, with a bright white pelt and of course he had his horns. And looked so much like him, although his marque noir were different. But other than that ... he could be Dapple's brother, Dacien thought, slowly, not sure what that could mean but ... if he had a brother, then how ...

"I do see," Cresphontes said, finally, choosing his words with a great deal of care. "But ... coincidence, of course, must be ruled out."

"I could send for Lord Run," Teodor said. "For my part, though, I doubt coincidence."

"Do so," Cresphontes instructed tersely. A moment later, he said, warningly, "I don't appreciate surprises, Teodor."

"No, My Lord," Teodor said. "I was as astonished as you are now, just ten minutes ago when Kanail found me after the meeting. I have never really met the Grandmaster before, My Lord, and I just asked Dapple to go with him so that the Grandmaster could evaluate his skills while we were in conference." Teodor paused. "My Lord, I know I am known for my little jests - but never on such a matter, and I would never, never make a joke out of ..." Teodor paused, looking for the right word. "This," he finally said. "I do not wring humor from the pain of others."

"I am relieved to hear it," the minotaur who was Grandmaster Kanail said. "And yet you will not yield him to me."

"I cannot," said Teodor, unhappily. "I am desperately regretful, but I cannot, and I cannot discuss the matter with you, on my privilege as a mage. Apply to our Lord, not to me."

Kanail turned to Cresphontes. "And is that so, My Lord?"

"Yes," said Cresphontes firmly. "That is so, Grandmaster." Cresphontes turned back to Teodor. "You sent for My Lord Run?"

"Oh, yes," said Teodor. "He's not far, he should be here any moment."

Any moment stretched into several long minutes, filled with a tense, uncomfortable silence, until Trand - Lord Run, Dacien corrected himself mentally - came walking in. "My Lords?"

"My Lord Run," Cresphontes said. "I need you to determine for me just how closely related the ninja Dapple and the Grandmaster Kanail are."

Trand blinked. "Yes, My Lord," he said, sounding a bit confused, and he walked forward, and stopped, as he looked at them. "Closely, I would think."

"We think so, yes," said Cresphontes. "But neither Lord Fog nor Lord Doze can make that determination ..."

"Yes, My Lord," said Trand, and he walked over to the two minotaurs, Dapple and Kanail. "I'll need to touch you," he said, laying a hand gently on each one, and then taking putting his hands down. His face had cleared of expression as he faced Cresphontes. "My Lord, they are twins, identical twins."

"Not just brothers," Teodor said, in the heavy tone of someone asking for the sake of having asked. "Fraternal twins, perhaps?"

"Lord Fog," said Trand, solemnly, "They are identical twins. There is no question of it."

Kanail stepped over, and said, angrily, "What do you know about this, Lord Fog."

"Not ... not as much as I thought," Teodor said. "Clearly. I beg your forgiveness, Grandmaster Kanail. You must ask the Patriarch for answers on this matter. I cannot discuss it with you."

"Then, My Lord Patriarch, I trust you can supply some answers!"

Cresphontes shook his head. "I do not have them, not to the questions you have. I have promised Nikohorus the Lord of Bones access to Dapple, and consultation with Teodor, and so I cannot ask Teodor to transfer Dapple to you, although I can see that is what you want. Nor can I do without Dapple guarding Teodor - or your guarding Ianthos, who will soon be leaving to carry out ... diplomacy. So Dapple must stay with Teodor for the time being, and you ... must not. Grandmaster. Still. You are owed answers, and ... I pledge to do my best to get them for you."

Kanail sighed. "I think I remember him, My Lord."

"What?"

"I remember ..." Kanail stopped, was silent. "Memories, I suppose. Only, of an imaginary playmate. A child's fancy. Only ... when I saw him, they came back to me. And ... I wonder how much was fancy, and how much ... memory."

"Perhaps I could be of assistance," Sasha said, quietly. "If you wish to examine them."

"I would think probing his memories would be more useful," Kanail said.

"No," said Teodor. "I am sorry. His early memories are gone. Ruined. Destroyed."

Kanail twitched. "That is not a kind thing to say."

"No," said Teodor, and Dacien could hear the pain in his voice. "There is no kind way to say it. Grandmaster, your brother has been used brutally, in ways I am just beginning to understand."

"My Lords," said Cresphontes. "I have other duties. Grandmaster Kanail, can you carry out my orders, and accept that I have given Lord Fog his?"

Kanail looked at Dapple for a moment. "I can, My Lord, but ..."

"I do not think your spending time with him would be good for you or for him, however much you desire it," Cresphontes said. "You have been wronged, and I cannot make all right, but I must ask you to trust that I will make all as right as I can."

"My Lord," Teodor said suddenly.

"Yes?"

"Kanail's father was ... not Lycaili, was he?"

"No, he was ..." Cresphontes paused. "Kanail?"

"Kraken, he was from Clan Kraken. But he would never discuss it. He said he had been disowned, shunned." Kanail couldn't tear his eyes away from Dapple.

"Forgive me for casting doubt on your sire," Teodor said, "but ..."

"He probably knew something," Kanail said, and then grimaced. "He must have known ... something. But he's dead."

"Did he leave papers? Journals? Notes, instructions, a testament? Anything?" Teodor pressed.

"Just what any bull might have," Kanail said. "Nothing of interest. I went through them years ago."

"But you still have them?" Teodor pressed.

"I don't recall throwing them out, but ... I suppose they're somewhere," Kanail said. "But there's nothing in them."

"Give me permission to inspect them," said Teodor.

"I've been through them," Kanail said again, almost angrily. "There's nothing ... absolutely nothing about ... this."

"I don't say you're wrong," Teodor said, placatingly. "But ... perhaps there is something there that you did not recognize, some hint or reference that was perfectly innocent ... unless the reader knew it might not be. There's not much, you say?"

"No," said Kanail. "A trunk, not even full."

"Then it won't take me long. Perhaps nothing will come of it, in which case I, and you, and Dapple, will be no worse off. But ..."

"Yes," said Kanail. "I'll get them for you. They're at my house."

"Grandmaster," Cresphontes said. "I am due elsewhere. I delegate this matter to Lord Fog; I trust that will be satisfactory for the time being?"

"Uh, I suppose," said Kanail. "That is, he has your permission to discuss this matter with me?"

The ebon minotaur paused, thinking. "Grandmaster," Cresphontes said slowly, "I grant that nobody has more right to know what ... what is known, than you. But knowing it will not help you, and will not help him, and ... might well make the situation worse. I release Lord Fog from his silence, but ... I tell you, upon my word as your Patriarch, that the more Lord Fog reveals, the worse the situation becomes. I regret that is the case, but ... it is the case, and I ask you - not to ask." He looked towards the door, and the guard waiting impatiently there, and started walking. He shook his head with frustration. "I am sorry, but I must go."

"Of course." Kanail watched Cresphontes leave, and then looked toward Teodor.

"Grandmaster Kanail, I would beg you not to ask. I swear to you that all Lord Cresphontes has said is so, that I ... I will treat your twin with all the respect I may, but I beg you not to ask." Teodor glanced at Sasha. "It may be that I can discuss this later, without ... ramification, but I cannot. Not now. I swear to you that answering these questions is not in your twin's interest, not in Lycaili's interest, and, to the best of my knowledge and understanding, even your interest, and to the extent that I have been given Lord Cresphontes' authority, I assert it on that authority as well.

"But," Teodor continued heavily. "Lord Cresphontes was right. You have the right. I will not deny it." Teodor looked up at Kanail. "Grandmaster. What would you have me do?"

"You refused to answer me before."

"I had been forbidden to discuss it," Teodor said. "The Patriarch has delegated his authority to me, and ... since Lord Cresphontes could discuss it with you, then so can I."

"But that will make it worse. Somehow."

"He and I believe so, yes."

"I fail to see how it could be worse," Kanail bit out.

Teodor nodded. "I represent that it can be."

"What can you tell me ... without making it worse?"

Teodor took a breath. "I'm ... not sure, Grandmaster. May I have time to consider that? A ... an hour or two. Perhaps ... perhaps after you have shown me your father's journals?"

"I don't want my home bleached gray, Lord Fog."

"No, of course not." Teodor turned to Sasha. "Lord Doze. Might I borrow your apprentice for the day?" Teodor smiled, briefly. "It would save me several days of having to ward Kanail's home."

"Certainly," Sasha said, and paused, thinking. "I've got a box at the symphony tonight; could you have him there by curtain?"

Teodor blinked, taken aback. "The symphony?"

Sasha tilted his head to glance back at Dacien. "He's never been, has he?"

"Well, I've never taken him," Teodor said, after a moment. "But ..."

"No but," Sasha said, firmly. "You can't keep him locked up. It's not good for him. Dacien, have you ever been to the symphony?"

"I don't think so," Dacien said. "What is it?"

"Music."

"We have music ..." Dacien started, and then stopped. He wasn't we anymore. "The Empire has music, Lord Doze."

"Good!" said the brown minotaur. "And you like music, do you not?"

"Yes," Dacien said.

"Then I fail to see any problem," Sasha said. "Bring him round, and have someone show him up to my box."

"And dinner?" asked Teodor, sounding amused.

"My Lords," Kanail said, "I have a seat tonight, as well."

"Really?" said Sasha. "Marvelous. Why don't you bring him with you, and ... it's just me and Dacien, in the box, if you'd do us the honor of joining us. And you needn't worry about my signature, I assure you. The box seats six. I'd invite Te, but ..."

"No, thank you," Teodor said quickly.

"... he'd refuse," finished Sasha.

"I am attending with a friend, Lord Doze," Kanail said. "Another time I would be delighted join you, but ..."

"Ah," said the brown minotaur. "I understand. Completely. Should you change your mind ..."

"I thank you," Kanail said. "Lord Fog. I understand that time was ... pressing?"

Teodor turned to him. "Sasha and I are tasked with ... travel, as soon as we can. So, if now is quite convenient for you?"

Kanail looked back at Dapple for a moment. "I cannot think of anything more pressing, Lord Fog."

"No," Teodor said after a moment. "I suppose not."

Dacien had subconsciously expected Kanail's home to be ... well, if not exactly like House Green, or House Wide, or House Grey, or even Mistingrise, then at least on that scale. Kanail's home was modest - surprisingly modest. Quarters below for the three humans, and a set of three suites connected to a dining room, kitchen, a large sitting room, and a mage-lighted salle, barely enough for a single minotaur to practice in. Teodor glanced around, and settled himself at a writing-desk in the sitting room to go through the papers. He picked up the first set, and then set them down again, looking up at the clearly anxious Kanail. A finger tapped the desk. "Grandmaster," Teodor said briskly. "I require some ... time to read, and consider, and think. Do you know, in my rush to educate Dacien properly, I have entirely neglected tempus? He has been doing weapons work with Filius - a most talented instructor, I must say, but as of yet I do not have a Master of Guard or a Master of Time ... and nobody has felt up to the challenge of instructing Dacien in the very basics of time. I'm sure it's hardly a worthwhile use of your valuable time, but since you are ... at loose ends, and Dacien need only be present to assist me, I wonder if, perhaps ..."

"I am occasionally engaged for such initiations," Kanail said. "But ... you have ..."

"Dapple? He says he is not qualified to do such things."

Kanail nodded. "Perhaps not, but I was thinking of Chelm."

"Chelm ..." Teodor's voice trailed off for a moment. "Yes, Chelm could, certainly. It's just that he's been so busy, I've hated to ask him ..."

"Chelm will be accompanying Sasha, will he not?"

"Yes," Teodor admitted. "That would provide opportunity."

Kanail smiled. "What you really want is me not looking over your shoulder."

"That had occurred to be as a potential benefit, yes. And for Dacien as well."

"I'll take him," Kanail said. "He can still ... suppress your signature, right?"

"Oh, yes," Teodor said, picking up a paper again, and glancing over it. "Not an issue." Teodor paused. "As long as it's just the introductory exercises. Don't let him slip into time. That could ... disrupt his signature."

"Which is?"

"Suppression of mine," Teodor said. "Or more accurately, suppression of mage-signatures in general. Or, more accurately ..."

"That is more than sufficiently accurate," Kanail said, cutting Teodor off. "If he does slip into time, what happens?"

Teodor paused. "At the worst? A momentary resumption of my signature. A few seconds of exposure won't do any harm. If he were in time for all afternoon ... then, you'd probably see some effect."

"So a second or so ..."

"Harmless," said Teodor, dismissively.

"You're the expert," Kanail said, and then looked at Dacien. "And so ... you've never worked with time before?"

"No, ... sir?"

"Master," said Teodor. "As he is instructing you."

"Master," Dacien said. It felt odd, to call someone other than Teodor master, and Kanail gave him an odd look. "This is probably best done in the salle," the Grandmaster said, slowly. "Is ... is there anything I should know?"

Teodor looked up. "It would be best if ... you pretended that Dacien is much younger than he appears, as in some sense, he is."

Kanail looked at Dacien, and then back at Teodor. "In some sense."

Teodor looked back, and a smile flashed across his muzzle. "In some sense. Imagine that he was ... oh, brought up by feral humans."

"Brought up by feral humans," Kanail said, disbelievingly.

"I think that's a good analogy, yes," said Teodor. "He learns quickly, though. Do you need to know more?"

"I ... I don't think so," Kanail said. "I'll leave you to ... to ..."

"My research," supplied Teodor. "Yes. Thank you."

Kanail sat down on the wooden floor of the salle across from Dacien. "Tempus. Time. Time is the birthright of every minotaur, Dacien, and chances are you've already done so, just ... been unaware of it. The first step to using tempus is recognizing when we touch time."

Dacien nodded.

"You've probably already done it. Maybe in practice somewhere, where you moved something faster than you thought you could, if you've ever dropped something, and then caught it mid-air," Kanail continued. "It's natural - perfectly natural, like moving, or eating, or farting - and at first, you have very little control. That's fine. As you get used to it, your control will develop. I want to ... explain time to you, as a tempus master sees it.

"Think of it as a river that you're floating in. The river is time; and it carries us - all of us - into the future. A minotaur can sense that flow, feel it, and move against it or with it, and so move faster into the future - or more slowly. The more one can slow oneself, the slower the world moves around you - and you gain speed. Only it isn't really speed, but better control over the flow of time. You've seen minotaurs move in tempus, haven't you?

"Yes," Dacien said.

"And they seem to speed up."

"Yes."

"But when you enter tempus, everything seems to slow down."

"The light dims," Dacien said, remembering.

"It can, or it can grow brighter," Kanail said. "You've seen that happen?"

"Yes. I was ... someone was carrying me. In tempus."

Kanail nodded. "I understand. Yes. An advanced student can bring someone else with him, but it's exhausting. Whoever carried you must have been good."

"One of Lord Green's guards," Dacien said.

"That does not surprise. Lord Green is a Master-grade practitioner himself, even if he's never officially challenged for the rank. I'd expect him to want skilled warriors, or ... to expect his guard to become proficient. He sets high standards," Kanail said approvingly.

"For himself as well," Dacien said.

"Yes. The first step, as I said, is just to sense the flow of time," Kanail said. "This is a capability that ... you might not have yet. It develops somewhere between fifteen and thirty, usually towards the sooner, but ... it develops when it develops. Your task is just to listen for it.

"It might help to close your eyes," Kanail said. "Vision can be distracting. Just ... be calm. It's there. And ... when you feel it, you might not feel it like a river. Your brother describes it as a wind. I've heard other descriptions."

Dacien nodded, eyes shut, concentrating on ... just being aware. He didn't feel anything though, other than the soft flows of magic, but that wasn't what he was trying for. At least, he thought it wasn't.

Every now and then Kanail would have him move, do some stretches, before having him settle down again, and he was dimly aware of Teodor quietly working in the next room. At one point it sounded like he was having a conversation, and then the gray minotaur was standing quietly at the door. "I hate to disturb you ..."

"Not at all," said Kanail. "What is it." He stared at the mage. "You've found something," and his voice had an eager edge to it.

Teodor paused. "I've learned a little. Your father wasn't Kraken; he thought of himself as ... Scyllan."

That caught Dacien's attention, but before he could say anything, Kanail spoke. "Scyllan? I haven't heard ... what clan is Scyllan?"

"The clan name is Scylla," Teodor said. "And it's been dead ... or thought dead ..."

"Scylla?" Kanail asked dubiously. "Are you ... there's no mention of anything like that in those journals. Is there?"

Teodor shrugged. "No. But ... my inspection is not limited to the marks of ink on the paper."

"Scylla is dead," Kanail pointed out.

"If your father was Scyllan ..."

"If he was, and I do not grant the if, then he is dead and Scylla with him. I am Lycaili."

Teodor paused. "So you are. I beg your forgiveness for suggesting otherwise; I had a different chain of thought."

Kanail looked at him. "Then please, by all means, continue."

Teodor made an unhappy movement of his shoulders. "It's not very much, I'm afraid, but ... either your father was deluded, or ... Scylla still exists."

"Hidden?"

"Yes ..." said Teodor, slowly. "But ... if, if ... then ... why?" The gray minotaur blew out his breath in frustration. "And why ... why didn't your father ... give you some idea of your heritage?"

"Because he was ashamed of it," said Kanail bluntly. "He was shamed. I never knew why, he wouldn't discuss it but ... I knew. I could tell that something ... something weighed on his honor. And I can see why."

"Dapple, you mean ..." Teodor said, more to himself. "Perhaps. What I got was ... a sense of anger. It might be guilt; it's ... a tremendously subjective judgment. I'm not certain. Perhaps, that's all I can say ... it was directed at ... his family, his ... hmmm, I don't want to call them friends, precisely, although ... no," said Teodor. "I am approximately three-quarters finished, and at that point perhaps I will know something more. I crave your patience, Grandmaster. What I'd wanted to tell you I had a communication from Lord Chimes. He's sending over a messenger with some letters for me as well as a feral human who ... will probably be badly behaved, so ... I have another thing for which I must crave your indulgence."

"Ferals," growled Kanail. "I do not think they should be indulged at all."

"He will be no trouble," said Teodor said, as he went back to the desk.

"Ferals always mean trouble," muttered Kanail grimly.

"Trouble," replied Dacien, "is not always a bad thing."

The Grandmaster looked surprised, but merely said, "Let us return to the lesson, then."

The door-chime interrupted the lesson about thirty minutes later; Kanail rose. "Lord Fog's letters, I presume," and went quickly to the door. He opened it, and Dacien, standing beside him, recognized both persons standing there - Benelaus Ouroborous, and Commander-of-Thousands Nestor. Ex-Commander.

The brown-black minotaur's face lit up with a smile "Dapple! What a pleasure to see you again, although I should have realized you'd be with Lord Fog. Would you show us to him, please?"

Dacien winced as Kanail tensed. "I," he said in his voice that sounded almost exactly like Dapple, "am Grandmaster Kanail Lycaili, and this is my house."

Benelaus' smile dissolved into confusion, and then became neutral. "I ... I do beg your forgiveness. You ... resemble someone else, and ... and I must say you even sound like ..." The minotaur stopped for a moment. "You sound like yourself, of course, and I do beg ..."

"There is very little to forgive," Kanail said, finally. "As it happens, that ... minotaur is here as well, and he does resemble me closely. And if you are indeed acquainted with him then seeing him - rather than me - open the door where you expect to find Lord Fog, is ... understandable."

"You are kind," Benelaus said, reverting to the more precise minotaur formality. "I am Benelaus Ouroborous, a warrior in the service of the Lord of Bones, and I carry letters and messages for Teodor Lord Fog Lycaili. Is he within?"

"He is," Kanail said. "Enter and be welcome, Warrior Benelaus."

"I thank you on my behalf and that of my Master," the minotaur said, and walked in. Nestor followed him, saying nothing, but he was ... looking around, Dacien noted.

Teodor was just setting a journal down when they entered the now-crowded study, and Teodor's face, too, twisted into a smile when he saw the brown-black minotaur. "Benelaus! What a pleasant surprise. I daresay I was due a pleasant surprise, they've all been quite nasty so far today ... but this is both utterly unexpected and quite a treat!"

"Thank you, Lord Fog," Benelaus said, drawing a letter from his jacket. "This was given to me by my Master, the Lord of Bones, and I was charged to deliver it to nobody but yourself."

Teodor reached out and took it. "And I have it."

"Also, Lord Fog, I am charged to deliver to you this feral, taken in the recent action of Lycaili against invading humans, whom you begged from the Lord of Bones."

"Begged?" Teodor asked mildly. "To ask is not to beg, but ... I'm hardly going to send him back in a fit of pique."

"My Master was ..."

"Hardly your concern," Teodor said. "Dapple, please see that this feral ... remains out of trouble, for the time being."

"Yes, Master," said Dapple, moving over to Nestor. Both Nestor and Benelaus were glancing from Dapple to Kanail now.

"You will allow me a moment," Teodor said to Benelaus. He opened the letter, carefully breaking the wax over the dustbin, and glanced down it. "Nothing remarkable ... well. I will need to pen a reply."

"Lord Fog," Benelaus said.

"There is more?"

"If I could beg a courtesy from you, my Master would like to know what quality this feral has, that you should want him."

A tiny grin chased its away across the gray muzzle. "Indeed. Well, then, Warrior Benelaus, for your sake and for your sake alone I shall enlighten him in my reply."

"Then I thank you, on my behalf, and that concludes my embassy to you from my Master."

Teodor nodded. "You will take a reply back, though?"

"If that is your desire, I would be happy to do so, Lord Fog, but ... I ... I beg a moment of your time for myself, and I am happy to wait on your convenience. I am admitted, I know, on the strength of those just-delivered messages, and I do not wish to impose on you, nor take their urgency for my own."

"I understand," said Teodor. "If the matter is short, I will be happy to hear it now, if it be longer, and it can wait, I would invite you to my home tonight to discuss it in the detail it deserves."

"The sum is short," Benelaus said. "Lord Fog, I have discussed this with my Master, and I have his permission to withdraw from his service. I understand that you are forming a guard."

"This is so," said Teodor.

"I ask for a place in it," Benelaus said.

Teodor sat down, slowly. "That is ... well. Another surprise on a day full of them ... I ... I see no reason why not, but, and you must forgive me, I must inquire as to ... why you would seek such a thing. You do not, I perceive, petition the Patriarch for admission to our clan."

"No," said Benelaus. "Nor have I intention of doing so. I have no qualms nor doubts about my Master, or my clan."

"I am not opposed," said Teodor. "But ... I must ask why. It is, you must admit, peculiar."

Benelaus nodded. "In Lycaili, Lord Fog, I would simply be another guard. In Ouroborous ... I am a survivor of the Occult Massacre. The survivor. The only survivor. It is not ... that is not what I wish to be, Lord Fog."

Teodor nodded. "Yes, I ... quite understand." He paused, thinking. "I must seek the permission of the Council, to do such a thing, and I will do so directly." He looked about, and then up at Kanail. "Grandmaster, may I impose ..."

"Second drawer on your left," Kanail said. "Paper, pens, wax."

"Thank you," said Teodor, already pulling out a sheet, and then he looked up. "Dapple, take ... the feral down to the kitchen, would you, make sure he's fed, watered, comfortable?"

"Yes, Master. But ..."

"I know," Teodor said. "But the Grandmaster is here, and I doubt he'd let me be harmed."

"Yes, Master."

"Certainly not," said Kanail.

"There, you see?" Teodor said. "Perfectly safe." Dapple nodded reluctantly and he guided Nestor - gently - out of the room.

Teodor tapped the desk thoughtfully, and began to write, quickly. About three minutes later, he folded the paper, sealed it, set it down, and started a second letter, finishing it almost as quickly as the first. "Here. Benelaus, would you be kind enough to deliver these to the Lord of Chimes? One is for him, and concerns your request. I have said that I tentatively am in favor, but will follow the recommendation of the Council on the matter. He may have questions, and ... well. The other is a reply to the Lord of Bones, and I ask him to have it delivered with dispatch." Teodor paused. "There is ... one thing, Benelaus. I will probably be spending the next few months in Ouroborous; and if I am there, my guard will have to be there. Will that be ... problematic?"

"No, Lord Fog."

Teodor handed Benelaus the letters. "Then please take these with all possible speed. Regardless of your reception with Lord Chimes, I would be honored if you would stay at House Gray while you're in Lycaili.

"That ... that is kind of you, Lord Fog, and I accept your hospitality with pleasure."

"It's wonderful to see you again," Teodor said. "I may be home ... quite late tonight, so please tell the cook not to wait dinner on me."

"Certainly, Lord Fog."

"Teodor, please, as long as you are my guest."

Benelaus nodded. "As you wish, Teodor. I hope to see you later tonight, then."

Teodor watched him go out, and sighed.

"Teodor?" asked Dacien.

"You're not going home tonight?"

"No ..." said Teodor, softly. "No, I trust not. There's ... too much to do, suddenly." The gray minotaur sighed. "Everything seems to happen all at once ... well, I'm almost done with this."

"That's good, because I need to leave soon, and I'd like ... whatever explanation you care to provide before that."

Teodor paused. "So soon? The symphony is not for ... hours."

Kanail shook his head. "No, but getting ready to go takes ... does Dacien have any formal clothes?"

"He's in them," said Teodor mildly. "For Lord Run's investiture."

"Those? They're ..."

"Gray, yes," said Teodor. "I know it's not a fashionable color, but it's all I had at Mistingrise. They'll do for tonight."

"For his first time to the symphony," Kanail said, sounding surprised and almost offended.

"Yes ..." said Teodor. "Is ..."

"It's the symphony."

"It's nice, but ..." started Teodor.

Kanail just shook his head. "You have no idea, do you?"

Teodor looked blank. "I don't? It's a large auditorium. I generally have a box to myself, all the boxes are warded, after all, and ..." he looked at Kanail's disapproving expression. "I've enjoyed myself, when I've gone ..." the gray mage said. "I'm certain Dacien will enjoy it."

"Dacien will enjoy it," repeated Kanail, who shook his head. "That's not ... you may be an antisocial recluse, but it seems unfair to have brought Dacien up that way, under the tutelage of ... feral humans."

"There's some truth in that, actually," Teodor admitted. "I am a recluse. It's not entirely by choice."

"No?" Kanail sounded dubious.

"No," said Teodor. "First, please remember that my signature turns everything around me gray, and that makes me ... less than welcome in a lot of places. Secondly, Grandmaster, I'm air-affined. The same talents that allow me to extract hidden meaning from these books ... make crowds very unpleasant. No, I can't read thoughts, as such, but that doesn't mean I can't be battered by them. You've been to the ocean, yes?"

"Yes," said Kanail.

"Well, imagine standing on a beach, with waves hitting you from all directions, of all sizes, and you can't see them coming," Teodor said. "It's not anything like that, but ... it might give you an idea."

"Dacien doesn't have that ... experience. Does he?"

"No," said Teodor.

"Actually, I did, this morning," Dacien said.

They both turned to look at him. "What?"

"In the council chamber, with all those mages ..." Dacien said. "And all of the magic. It was ..." he paused. "Hard to describe. Standing on a beach getting hit by waves isn't like it at all, but ... yes, I think I understand why you say that."

"Well, the only other mage at the symphony will be Lord Doze," said Kanail.

"True," said Teodor.

"So there's no concern over ... battering, however inaccurate the analogy is. Have you finished those books?"

"Yes, pretty much, there's a little more, but I doubt I'll find anything more. These are just household accounts, unlikely to trigger or hold any emotional context."

Kanail nodded in agreement. "Then, you could tell me now, since you've had time to think about it."

"I'd hardly call it that," Teodor objected. "But ... well. It's not much. Your father left Scylla, and he was angry, possibly guilty, shamed. The obvious conjecture would be that ... he had to leave one of you behind. Why he had to leave ... that is a different question. And that's ... everything. Almost everything." Teodor brought out a sheet of paper, and wrote something on it, and handed to Kanail. The Grandmaster took the sheet with a questioning look, glanced down at it, and stiffened, staring down at the paper. "I believe. It's shown up ... several times, in a generally negative context, but ..."

After a long minute, he said, "I remember this." Kanail looked up. "Yes. Your guess is right. It ... I remember this, now."

Teodor shook his head. "Maybe Sasha can help you remember."

"Not you?"

"Sasha has ... a more delicate touch than I do, on such things," Teodor said. "We all have our specialties."

"Then I will talk to him tonight," Kanail said, thoughtfully. "I find myself growing ... both calmer, and angrier, together. It's a peculiar thing."

Teodor nodded. "Oh, I understand that, I assure you, entirely."

Kanail paused. "Then I think I will take Dacien, and go. Now. I'll send Dapple up with your feral."

Teodor looked over the books, and sighed. "It is likely there is nothing here. But ... can you give me ... five more minutes? If Dacien leaves, I'll need to ward everything ..."

"Right," said Kanail. "Mmmm. Pity there's not enough time to clean and press Dacien's clothes ..."

Teodor sighed, and gestured absently. Dacien twitched as a physical sensation of heat collided with the cool touch of Teodor's magic. The creases and plaits of the heavily embroidered gray robes had sharpened; the fabric tightening to a just-freshly-dried firmness.

"Now?" asked Teodor, tiredly?

"Just let me know when you're ready," said Kanail, sitting down in one of the large chairs, and gesturing for Dacien to do likewise.

Teodor nodded, and continued paging through the last journal, finally closing it with a sigh, and looking over at Kanail. "Nothing more. I didn't really expect anything, but ... you know, if I'm thorough, then I won't miss anything, and I don't have to wonder."

Kanail nodded. "I appreciate it. Can you ... tell me anything more about Li - Dapple?"

Teodor looked unhappy. "I can. If you ask me to, I will, but ..."

"I need to know."

Teodor nodded. "I don't know much. His memories have been modified at least three times, and when I say modified, I mean in the sense of being destroyed. It may have happened more times, I can only be certain of three separate incidents. I can't tell if it was a single mage three times, or multiple mages. He's had considerable physical trauma, most of it healed by Luzeil's predecessor - his touch is quite clear, but ... there was some older healing which may have been mage or magician, I cannot tell, primarily because the older Lord of Tongs did such a complete job. Probably because the older work wasn't to his standards - it would have been like him to redo it. He even set his horns ..."

"What happened to his horns?"

Teodor grimaced. "Removed at the base. Cauterized, by fire or acid. His memory of the incident is ... a fabrication."

"But you can't tell anything about the mage who did it?"

Teodor looked confused. "No, the horns were done ..."

"The memory, I thought every work of magic was ... unique to the mage."

"Oh," said Teodor. "Yes and no. Every creative use of magic is. His memory is made-up, but ... it wasn't invented by a mage. Dapple invented it. Dapple invented a lot, I can't really make anything else out. Maybe Sasha could."

"What?" Kanail looked confused. "How could Dapple invent memories?"

"Because he had to," Teodor said simply. "We are ... you and I, Dacien, Dapple, all of us, the sum of our memories. Nothing is more us that our choices and decisions and our experiences. Most often when memories are removed, that is experienced as a blankness, a void, but that's because most mentalists are responsible practitioners who involve their patient closely in exactly what is going to be forgotten, and how. Whoever worked on Dapple was ... obviously not concerned about minimizing trauma. Dapple invented memories to cover the gaps in ... defense of his own self image, what was left of it. A plausible reason or rationale became the reason, and he ... remembered it happening that way."

Kanail's face had become stiffer and stiffer as Teodor spoke. "That's ..."

"I told you that you wouldn't like it," Teodor said. "And there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing. His personality is damaged, and that damage is interlinked with his tempus abilities in a way I quite honestly do not understand, but I suspect is responsible, at least in part, for his amazing skill."

"If you undid the damage, would that help?"

Teodor blinked, and shook his head. "I ... first off, I can't. Sasha might be able to, but I can't. And it wouldn't actually help, it would just be ... more damage, not healing."

Kanail nodded soberly. "That makes sense."

"I'm sorry," Teodor said, and Dacien felt the cool moist gray of Teodor's magic ease out from him, wrap the room in a spell. "There is more, of course, and all of this is under council interdict. I forbid you, in the name of Cresphontes, from revealing anything of this. Do you understand, and accept my authority to do so?"

"Yes," Kanail said. "But ..."

"Dacien already knows this, he was there. Dapple defeated four other ninja, because he was marginally faster than any of them, but only marginally. Without Lucas and Havel, the battle might well have gone the other way, and ... I don't know that Lord Green and I could have stopped them. Speed is ... speed," Teodor said. "You know that."

"Yes."

"The four ninja shared Dapple's pattern - and yours, white with marque noir. All of them. We did not think it was an accident. We believe that some clan or group is ... deliberately breeding and training ninja. And ... it looks like it might just be Clan Scylla. Our histories tell us that Xarbydis invented ninja, and that Scylla stole the secret from them. I don't know if that is true ... reading the histories has made me wonder if, perhaps, there wasn't some evil competition between them," Teodor said. "We first thought that this attack was a failure - Lord Green and I survived. Havel and Lord Green's wolfen - Talosh - were killed, along with four humans, but that seemed incidental. We prepared for further attacks, or some other ... action or activity."

"But nothing has happened, then?"

"No."

"Then either the attack achieved its objective, or it was a desperation attempt that failed," Kanail said.

"And that is the very reasonable conclusion the Patriarch has reached, and the mage's council," Teodor said.

"But not you."

Teodor shrugged. "I have no war-training, but I have made my share of mistakes. And my stint on duty at Mog Ford ... made me realize just how complex simple military matters can be. So I wonder, if, perhaps, the attack was not at least partially a mistake."

Kanail paused, thought for a moment, and shook his head. "No. That sort of resource would be under the control of war-trained minotaur. No warlord would make such an error."

"Well," said Teodor, "I think I can nearly agree with that, but I do believe anyone can make an error. And yes, if it was an error, it was a tremendous fiasco, but ... sometimes errors, even simple errors, lead to disasters."

"That is certainly true," said Kanail. "What else?"

"And that is everything we know," sighed Teodor. "Yes, that we know so little is ... considered something worth concealing."

"Oh, yes," agreed Kanail.

"You agree?"

Kanail nodded. "Without a doubt."

The gray mage was quiet for a moment. "Well, that's it."

"But ... what was done to him?"

"What you see," said Teodor. "He was broken first, then that used to build obedience, and ... modified. I don't know exactly how. We have ... agents, looking into his past, very quietly, in Ouroborous, but ... I know no more than that."

"Who is looking?"

"I don't know," said Teodor. "I don't need to know, and neither do you. We need to know only so that we, you and I, do not inadvertently say or look ... we must trust that those to whom the task is appointed are capable of it, and leave it to them, even as they leave our duties to us."

Kanail looked taken aback, and then he nodded. "You're right." He took a deep breath. "Thank you, Lord Fog. I trust ... you will keep me informed."

"Yes," pledged Teodor. "And I promise to keep your brother as safe, and content, as I can."

The big white and black minotaur nodded. "Yes. Yes. Thank you, Lord Fog. I know ..."

"It is hard," Teodor said quietly. "I am sorry. Please accept my personal sympathies in this matter, and ... if there is anything I can do - that I can do - I will do it."

Kanail nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Teodor stood, paused, and said "Dapple will meet me with Nestor at the door. I thank you for your hospitality, Grandmaster."

Kanail nodded again, and finally managed, "It was nothing, Lord Fog," as the gray minotaur left, and Dacien felt the magic Teodor had worked fade to nothing. The Grandmaster stood silently as Teodor's voice drifted up, Dapple's quieter voice sounding like some muted echo of Kanail, and then silence again.

Kanail turned to Dacien, and grinned. "Well. Let's go, Dacien."

"How much time do we have?"

"I need to deliver you to Lord Doze in about six hours," Kanail said. "Just enough time!"

[[](%5C)](%5C)