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Chapter Fourteen

The House of Lord Green

Erik realized something was happening; Xavien's frenetic preparations had abruptly ceased, and about mid-morning, he and Dog were summoned by Breaker to yet another room in this maze of buildings and gardens. The room was large, even by the standards of Lord Green's house, at least three hundred paces in each direction. The floor was a wood plank mosaic, polished and fitted like the finest cabinetry, the seams obvious only from the almost invisible mismatches of wood grain. The grim brown minotaur - Lukas - took up a position on the naked floor, naked sword in had.

"Breaker. Good, good. You're here." said Lord Green. "I have to at least offer Lord Fog a chance to talk. Bring in ... chairs. Me, Benelaus, Havel, Lord Fog ... four chairs. On a carpet. Quickly," and, having delivered Erik and Dog to the black minotaur, Breaker scurried out on his latest errand. Xavien stared down at Erik and Dog for a moment, and his face went blank for a moment. "Left and Right are coming ..." he murmured, and then turned back to Erik and Dog.

"Kneel," the black minotaur instructed, indicating a spot a few feet behind him. "There. Lukas."

"Yes, My Lord?"

"They should be here ... soon. Havel said he would aim for mid-morning."

"He's masterful at that," the brown minotaur said. "I take it you can't reach him?"

"No," the black minotaur said with more than a tinge of irritation. "I can't. I can't even get a sense of them. They're too deep. I spoke with him and Teodor at dawn; they expected to link up in an hour or so. I haven't been able to reach him the times I've tried since, so I assume he's traveling. They reached First View - Lord Fog used the dolmen there. Presumably they're on the way here. That's about sixteen hours at a march, so depending on how deep they are, three or four hours until they get here. So they should be here ... in an hour or two."

"Roughly. Is Havel still planning to go that deep for that long?"

"He said it would be a good training exercise," Lord Green said, and then he turned to Breaker, who had just returned with a number of humans and assorted furniture. "Set the rug down there and the chairs on it."

"Yes, Master."

Lord Green watched them lay out the carpet and chairs, and then sat down in one of them. "And now we wait."

"Yes, My Lord," Lukas answered.

"I'm not a good waiter," Xavien grumbled.

"Yes, My Lord."

D acien thought that Teodor's weather magic impressed even the other minotaurs. Nevertheless, the suggestion that the group rest a bit longer than the planned hour, even coming from Lord Fog, was met with a diplomatic refusal from Havel. "My Lord Green was specific. He wants you - and us - out of this war zone as fast as possible. And I am in agreement with him."

"A military judgment," the gray minotaur said quietly. "I ... well, I will not pretend that a working on that scale is not exhausting," he said, "but since I am not the one carrying the burden of tempus - you do plan on bending time further, don't you?"

"I do," Havel said. "My Lord Green was clear on the need for haste, and just between you and me, Teodor, it's a good exercise for my troop."

"Dragging along four cripples?" Teodor asked dubiously.

"Your slave Five is surprisingly accomplished at tempus," Havel said. "And he supports, rather than impedes, the gestalt. Better than some of my warriors, I might add."

"Three cripples, then." The gray minotaur looked thoughtful. "Five is a recent acquisition, and I admit I find he surprises me from time to time."

The midnight black warlord snorted, and then said quietly, "His tempus skills would do credit to a warlord. What we're doing here would be - is - difficult enough for a group of experienced and skilled warriors who are used to working together. To join that merge as seamlessly as he did ... that, Teodor, is an accomplishment of an expert." Havel drew in a breath. "Lord Fog. I am Master of Time for Lord Green; although Lord Green's Master of Guard is," and the minotaur was quiet, searching for the right phrase. "As good as I am," he said finally. "It is difficult to compare skill levels at master-grade; so much depends on one's own strengths. But I am that good. Lord Fog, your slave Five does something with ease that I am not sure I could do. It is a limited observation, a single point, and I would not presume to judge his skill on that alone ... but it is impressive."

"I see," Teodor said. "Or more precisely, I see ... that I do not see. I am not skilled in tempus," he admitted. "I did not - would never have - realized what his skill level was, other than better than mine . It's always been something I've meant to get back to, but ... I appreciate your candid appraisal, Warlord Havel."

"You are welcome, Lord Fog. Lord Green gave me explicit orders about time, and getting to House Green in the most efficient use of it. How long will you require?"

"I think I am prepared. I think." Teodor said. "Although I may ... need to call for a break. I do not know."

Havel nodded. "What I told my warriors goes for you, too, Lord Fog. Even being carried through time can be ... disorienting. I doubt Lord Green would be amused if I permitted you to arrive tempworn. Although if ... whatever happened last time happens again ... it may not be a concern."

"It is possible," Teodor said quietly. "And I judge it ... likely. Is there any reason it would be ... undesirable? Beyond providing too easy a training run for your warriors, of course."

"I'm certain they will cope." The black minotaur waited for a moment, as if he expected Teodor to say more, but Lord Fog was silent. Havel turned, ordered his troops to prepare to leave.

A different minotaur offered - very much in the sense of commanded, Dacien thought - to carry him, and Benelaus and even Teodor were being carried by different ones, too. It made sense, to rotate the burden, Dacien thought, and then with the single word from the black warlord, "Prepare," they leaped back into the strangeness. The soft breeze was gone, the light dimmed, and this time, he felt paralyzed, and the minotaur was motionless, fighting against a powerful resistance in every direction. This resistance wasn't a single barrier, it was a thousand, all set close and near and breaking out of that stifling grasp wasn't a matter of breaking one and going on to the the next, for to break one the minotaur would have to cut through ten, twenty, just to move, and then they faced no less a concentration in the next step.

Almost without thinking about he let himself see the magic-flows. They were the source of the resistance; and they curled and coiled, moving, circling around the voracious darkness that was, that could only be that so-innocuous looking stone horn. The dolmen, Teodor had called it, and used it to power his working, calling up that endless churning sea of fog, and ... now it was active, pulling magic to it and spinning it back out into that ocean of obscuring gray.

The light had dimmed to black, and then they were back on the rest, and two of the minotaur just collapsed - one of them carrying Teodor, who rolled off quickly. Havel looked ... alarmed. "Lord Fog! What ..."

"I think," said Teodor carefully, picking up the warrior who had so recently been carrying him, "we need to put some distance between us and this now-active dolmen. A mile or so should do it. I recall, too late to be of use and I do apologize, Warlord Havel, for I should have remembered, that the use of tempus is unwise around active dolmens and menhir - and I think we just had a very clear lesson in why."

"Yes, but ... but what was that?"

"Magic-lines," Dacien said, and then stopped as every minotaur turned to look at him.

Havel looked curiously at Teodor, and the gray minotaur looked ... remote, for a moment, before he spoke. "Please go on," he said courteously, directly to Dacien.

"I'm sorry, Master, if I spoke ..."

"Sorry or not," Teodor interrupted briskly, "having started the explanation, I require its completion."

"The ... the dolmen is pulling all the lines of magic around it," Dacien said, struggling to put the experience into words as all the minotaur silently watched. "They're - they're bending, so ... so when you go into tempus ... they're holding you back. In."

"The veils," said Havel, in a tone of enlightenment. "The veils are leys. Is that what he means?"

"I think so," Teodor said, after a moment of consideration. "He ... he is mage-gifted, obviously, and he sees things ... differently. Uniquely, I think. I have never heard of anyone seeing veils before."

"Veils?" asked Dacien.

"The resistance in the flows of time are referred to as veils , by practitioners." Havel said, his attention on the stone, and Dacien wondered if he were even aware he was answering a question from a mere human. "If leys are veils ..."

"An uncertain conclusion," Teodor said warningly. "That they are connected, perhaps, is a stone to step on, but that they are one and the same is a cliff to leap from."

"Yes," Havel said, after a moment, his eyes still on the stone. "Still ..."

"We should get away from here," Teodor said, interrupting the warlord's meditative stare. "The spell will last until the next full moon rises - twelve days, a little less. And without tempus ..."

"We are in danger, yes, I agree," Havel said. He looked around at his men. "Is ..."

"I will carry Yganthes," Teodor offered.

"No you will not," came the instant reply. "You and Benelaus are injured," Havel said with a slight smile. "And I am running this as a training exercise. I have no problems with a scenario with multiple casualties."

"As you wish, Warlord Havel," Teodor said, with clear reluctance.

It took nearly an hour for them to climb far enough away from the dolmen to slip back into tempus.

House Green itself was less a house, thought Dacien, than a palace along almost Imperial lines. Instead of a single massive structure like Mistingrise, or half-building and half-cave like Labyrinth, House Green - or rather, the Green Palace, as Dacien thought of it, was a tangle of half-open buildings and glass greenhouses that contrasted with the precise and elaborate gardens they were a part of. The walls gleamed with whitewash where they weren't glass. It was hard to get an impression of the complex from below, and as they approached it, the various walls rose up to shroud Lord Green's home with hedges, greenhouses, and flowers lining the walk and even the walls.

The walk up the hill would have been pleasant, if Dacien hadn't been so tired after the exertion of the morning. With tempus, and his own bubble, they'd collapsed almost fifteen hours of hard travel through the mountains into a single morning, but he felt exhausted, even though all he'd really had to do was hold onto the warrior carrying him. Only a few hours might have passed to the rest of the world, but it has still been fifteen hours over the mountains and then to House Green to them. It was all he could do to drag himself up the winding cobblestones toward the house; Dacien wondered at the endurance of the minotaurs.

Water burbled down an ornamental creek by the path, making quiet trickling noises, and after going over a set of huge stepping stones in a small pool at the top of the hill, the path led into a tunnel of leaves - grapes, Dacien though, and so thick he couldn't tell if the wall were just the plants, or if there were stone behind it on one side or the other. Fifty feet in or so, the walls curved up and over to make a tunnel of cool green, and Dacien was aware of magic, seeping up from the ground, running through the plants, and then dripping back down almost like sap, draining quietly back into the ground. It ran through him, too, in a curiously pleasurable and refreshing tickle that made him feel marginally less tired.

The tunnel opened very suddenly into a large glass-domed room. Three steps up onto a polished wood floor. At the far side was a large patterned carpet, set with large minotaur-sized chairs - four of them, one at each corner, pointed in.

In front of them was the black minotaur Dacien had seen before - Xavien Lord Green. Dacien had only glanced at him that day, in Lord Chime's study. Today, in his own house, with a minotaur standing beside him, Dacien could truly appreciate how big he was; taller than Teodor by at least a foot and a half, and larger, a hundred, perhaps two hundred pounds heavier, and none of it fat. Xavien wore a soft blue robe over a blue tunic - silk, Dacien thought - and trousers of such a dark blue that they looked almost black - except that they were lighter than the minotaur's own midnight pelt. Around his neck was a double loop of a fine silver and gold chain; it looked too delicate for the minotaur, who wore no other jewelry. Despite the delicate and tightly embroidered fabrics, nothing about Lord Green seemed soft in any way.

Directly behind him, with a naked blade, was another minotaur. His pelt was gray, mottled with black and brown. He wore only the long tunic and open robe of a minotaur warrior, along with the unsheathed blade. He seemed curiously still, the blade motionless in the air. Behind him were four kneeling human slaves dressed in a soft pastel green tunics and shorts. At first glance they looked remarkably similar, but then Dacien recognized one of as Commander-of-Ten Erik and ... and wasn't the other Commander-of-Fifty Mikal? And that was magic pooling around them; a sharp dryness around Mikal, and ... a lurking sense of dire potential around Erik.

The minotaur warrior stayed as motionless as the slaves when Lord Green stepped forward, and bowed. The magic rippled when the black minotaur moved, as if - no, not as if, but because - he was the source. It poured from him, a veritable spring of power that sank almost immediately into the ground, a tremendous lake somehow coexistent with the hill itself, a vast reservoir of potential, just waiting to be called upon, and so close to Lord Green, every time he moved the magic changed, like waves on a still lake as an island moved through it, long slow waves of magic that battered at him. Both Lord Fog and Lord Green seemed unaware of the shifting magic. Dacien himself was starting to feel dazed by the slow lapping waves of power until he ... shifted away from the perception, somehow. The cool gray breeze that swirled constantly from Teodor was nothing like that thick, heavy emanation. The magic wasn't any less than that that flowed so easily from Teodor, but it was different, so different, more immediate, more tangible and heavy, somehow, that the cool gray of Lord Fog, or even the barely-sensed flow of his own.

So caught up was he in the various emanations that Lord Green's words deep thundering voice came almost as a shock. "Welcome to my home, Lord Fog, Warrior Benelaus." the black minotaur said. "I greet you as a brother, and my home is yours." He stood up with a smile. "I admit I have been anxious about your safety, Lord Fog - Benelaus, both of you. I have refreshment - a light lunch. All is in readiness, but," and the Lord Green's voice halted for a bare moment, and Dacien got the feeling he was nervous about something, "it seems to me that however eager I am for your company, that you have been traveling on poor rations and the last day - and night - was both long, and extended. I have had your rooms prepared, and your repast might be served there if that seems ... good to you."

Teodor smiled briefly and tiredly. "I am hardly one to cavil at breaking with tradition, especially when ... you are entirely correct. I am, I admit, much in need of rest, and I can think of nothing more hospitable than your welcome followed by food, and sleep."

Havel nodded. "Yes, Lord Green, I have to agree."

"The matter that brings us," started Teodor hesitantly.

Lord Green nodded. "Yes. I will see the slave first, then Lord Green, and then Benelaus."

"Surely Benelaus should be first!" said Teodor, surprised.

"No," said Lord Green, shaking his head slightly. "Curses can be subtle in their damage and from what you've said, the slave took the least harm."

"Yes," said Teodor, "but ..." and then he paused. Dacien felt, rather than saw, the gray minotaur stiffen somewhat as his voice dropped off.

"Then in him I can see the effects of the curse uncomplicated by physical damage," Lord Green said, apparently not noticing. "And that will prepare me to see about you - a more difficult case. And when I've set you to rights, I'll be ready for the hard one." He seemed to notice Teodor's reaction at that point, and fell silent.

"Yes," Teodor said, after a long moment of quiet. "Entirely correct. I should know better than to tell you how to go about your business, Lord Green, and I'm sure it's my exhaustion speaking. I accept your offer of rest gratefully. But before I go, I must commend Warlord Havel and his subalterns. They are skilled, courteous, and I am deeply grateful to him for his assistance, and to you, for sending your personal guard."

Lord Green looked somewhat taken aback. "It has been a long trip, Lord Fog, and ... I have taken the liberty of assigning you servants, who know the house. My house is yours, My Lord."

The gray minotaur was quiet for a moment, and then simply bowed. "You have my deepest thanks for your care of my slave, and Warrior Benelaus, and myself, of course. I trust Benelaus has rooms as well?"

"Of course," said Lord Green. The black minotaur looked at Havel. "Thank you, Warlord. You have discharged your duties admirably.."

"Our duties, My Lord," Havel said, bowed, and the troop of minotaur turned and left, exiting not through the grape-vine tunnel but another wide arch leading into something green and flowery. Lord Green watched them go, and then turned inquiringly back to Lord Fog.

"Did you wish to see the slave now, or will you send for him?" Lord Fog asked.

"Now, if that will be convenient for you." There was a grim unhappiness in the black minotaur's voice that he couldn't entirely suppress.

"I find it entirely convenient, Lord Green," Lord Fog said, and turned to Five. "Five, you will attend Lord Green until he's finished with you. Lord Green is a firm master, and will not appreciate anything less than formal service, and it pleases me that you serve him silently."

The white and black minotaur nodded, and motioned behind him. "These are Left and Right," Lord Green said as two of the humans - not Mikal or Erik - came quickly forward. I've assigned Left to you, Benelaus, and Right to Lord Fog. They can show you to your rooms, they're close to each other in the Chorus Wing. I trust they'll be satisfactory."

"I cannot imagine otherwise," Lord Fog said with equal formality.

"I've taken the liberty of having a light lunch prepared for you in your rooms" Lord Green added.

"Thank you. That's exceedingly thoughtful." Lord Fog said. "Right, you may show me to my suite."

"Left," said Benelaus, "you may show me to mine."

"Yes, Sir," Right said, and both Right and Left walked quickly towards another one of the green arches. With a polite half-bow, Lord Fog followed, Dacien and Benelaus in his wake.

Erik had watched the entire affair from where he'd sat kneeling - for almost two hours - and he'd been surprised to see his friend Dacien trailing in the wake of the gray minotaur - the much-discussed Lord Fog . He'd been even more surprised by the white-and-black minotaur who, if he understood correctly, was as much a slave as he was. And he knew, without a doubt, that he hadn't understood the conversation completely. It was clear that the two - Lord Fog and his own Master - had an existing relationship. From where he sat - knelt, he corrected himself - it was clear to him that Xavien was trying, somehow, to make it better. At first, he'd thought it was working, until Lord Green had made the comment about the reasonable order of patients (and what had happened to them? Would Dacien know? Could he ask? Was Dacien even still ... Dacien? His eyes slid across to where Dog crouched, and he felt his stomach lurch. It was possible Dacien had been ... Dog-ified. Broken . More than possible, probable. Dacien had never been one to submit easily to anything. Erik hoped not. It would be nice to find ... someone he knew, who was still himself.

Erik wondered if he himself still qualified. He thought so, but ... how could you know?

Lord Green simply watched the group - Dacien, the minotaur slave, Benelaus, and Lord Fog follow the two human slaves out a third archway, toward the Chorus Wing. There was a long silence after the figures had disappeared, and then Xavien turned to Lukas. "That ... didn't go so well."

"No, My Lord," Lukas said.

The black minotaur began pacing, back and forth on the polished wood floor. "It was going well. And then ... he just ... froze."

Lord Fog, he must mean, thought Erik.

"Yes. While you were telling him you deal with the slave first."

"Did I say that offensively? I know I can be abrupt ..."

"Yes, My Lord."

Lord Green stopped pacing, and turned to the warrior. "Yes, well, when you outrank everyone and you have fifty things to see to and you can't take care of any of them because of protocol - just see if you don't become just a little abrupt, too."

"I suppose, My Lord, being of exalted rank prevents many persons from pointing out your occasionally abbreviated sense of courtesy as well."

That provoked a short laugh. "Point and match, Lukas. Can you put that thing away yet?"

"No, My Lord. Havel and the rest of your guard need to rest. They're close to the edge."

"And you're not?"

"I am your Master of Guard, My Lord."

"Yes," sighed the black minotaur. "You are." Lord Green turned to stare at Dog and Erik. "Dog, you're dismissed. Return to my chamber. Lathe -" Erik's new designation for the past few days, which had at least the advantage, however dubious, of being better than Pink "- come with me." He turned to the remaining minotaur - a creamy white with a few irregular black irregular spots. Erik had thought he was hornless at first, but the minotaur did have small, sawn-off looking horns - had someone dehorned him? Or tried and failed?

"So. What does Lord Fog call you?"

"Five, Sir."

Lord Green nodded. "I believe Lord Fog explained about the curse, and how you were affected?"

"Yes, Sir."

"What did he say?"

"Sir, that as far as he could tell, I had not been affected, but that he wanted you or Lord Lash to be certain."

The black head nodded slowly. "Accurate. What else did he say?"

"Sir? I don't understand."

"Did he say more?"

"A little more about the curse, My Lord, but I don't pretend I understood him clearly."

"Did he say more?"

"Sir?"

"Did he mention ... anything about a mage being particularly susceptible?"

The white minotaur blinked in confusion. "He may have, Sir. I ... I'm sorry, Sir, I should have payed closer attention." It was the next phrase that surprised Erik. "May I be punished for the error, Sir?"

"Your Master will decide if that is warranted, not me." Lord Green said.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." The white minotaur sounded grateful, Erik thought.

"Come," Lord Green said after a pause. "Both of you. With me." He turned and left and Erik rose - finally! - from the kneeling position and fell in alongside the white minotaur.

"I'm sure you're hungry," Lord Green said, almost conversationally. "And tired. However, the sooner I do this, the better. It will be easier for you and for me on an empty stomach, and it will require little effort from you. I have arranged food for afterwards."

"Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir."

They ended up in one of the many solariums; tiny clear glass panels set in a complex mosaic pattern of dancing minotaurs picked out in the cool blue framing of the room. A high, padded table sat in the center of the room, and pots of bushy green herbs were set on the floor around the walls, softening the room and perfuming it with pleasant herbal aromas. Erik could pick out lavender and sage, and a sweeter honey-like scent.

"Five. Lie on the table. On your back." The black minotaur plucked a leaf, crushed it, and the honey-scent got stronger. "Here," he said to the now-supine Five. "Suck on this," and he dropped the leaf into the white minotaur's mouth. "Don't swallow.

"Or speak," Lord Green added very quickly, as the minotaur slave started to say something.

The black minotaur reached out, and caressed Erik, his hand curling in the human's hair, and - why now? - the golden haze of lust settled over him. "Sit," Lord Green instructed quietly, and Erik sank down, breathing deeply, trying to stave off the effects of the rapturous haze. He wanted to see Lord Green - Xavien - working magic.

Black hands stroked over Five's shoulder, very softly, with an, almost tickling, sensation. "This was the arm that was connected to the - to Warrior Benelaus?"

Five nodded once.

"Interesting," Lord Green said. "Lord Fog does ... very fine work. I can barely tell he touched you; in another month or so all traces would be gone. And the left leg?"

Another nod.

"A very fine touch," Lord Green said almost absently, running his fingers down the black-splotched leg, and then up down the other, and then carefully, precisely, across Five's torso. "Interesting. I can ... there's a sense of another minotaur ... Benelaus, I'd guess, in your blood. Remarkable. I'd have thought it would have faded, but it's still quite strong. I hope Lord Fog is still willing to show me that spell."

Erik suppressed a pant of lust, wrestling with the golden euphoric haze that was trying to pry his attention away from the minotaurs and towards the warmth he could feel radiating out from Lord Green's leg. He crouched a little more closely to the black minotaur.

"Nevertheless. The curse did leave a tiny impairment, minimal, and I think you would have recovered fully from it in a few months - well, not recovered, precisely, but recovered from."

Five made a confused noise, which Lord Green apparently took as a question. "The body can repair damage, or it can, in the case of muscle control, find another way to control where the existing control is damaged. The curse's damage is not of the kind the body can repair on its own, it is a form of destruction in that sense, but the body can ... cope. There is no impairment, eventually, even though the damage remains. Does that make sense?"

Five nodded.

Erik was holding his hands under his knees to keep from reaching for his Master when the haze faded.

"Good," said Lord Green. "I have repaired the damage, such as it was. Because the world and the body are strange things that rarely work the way one might expect, you will experience a numbness in your arm and shoulder for the next day or so as a result. Inconvenient, and you may well find yourself feeling clumsy with that arm. Both of these are expected, so do not let them concern you. Both will pass in two days. You can swallow that leaf now, by the way."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

"You can get up, now, as well. Go ... no, you don't know how to ... Lathe. Do you know where Lord Fog's rooms are in the Chorus Suite?"

"No, Master."

The black minotaur sighed. "No, of course not. I've kept you ... never mind, never mind." Lord Green was quiet for a moment. "There. A slave will be along in a moment, Dash, I've instructed him to take you to your Master's suite."

"Lathe. Come."

They were a few minutes away when Erik said hesitantly, "Master?"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering, Master, if you mentioned to Dash that the slave he was to guide was a minotaur, Master."

Lord Green paused, and looked down at Erik with a strange expression. "That ... that is an interesting ... yes, that's well thought of, yes," and the minotaur's expression blanked for a long moment, and then he looked back at Erik.

"I'm not certain I approve of this initiative, Lathe, but I will admit that might have prevented ... some trouble." The black minotaur continued on for another hundred steps, before saying, without breaking his stride, "I do not disapprove of this initiative you're showing." Another hundred steps, and Lord Green stopped. "You may continue." The minotaur started forward again. "For now."

"Yes, Master," Erik said.

Lord Green just snorted, and continued.

D acien was staggering by the time he and Teodor reached the vast suite provided by Lord Green. Lord Fog simply walked through the door Right had opened, and said, "Oh. My. This is ... this is not what I had expected." Dacien followed him in, and ... it wasn't anything like what Dacien had expected, either.

The suite was a single room, a huge indoor pond. The ceiling and wall were set with barely opaqued glass panes, letting in a bright, almost sourceless light. Built over the water were bridges and elevated platforms serving as rooms. The entrance was a huge slab of rough black stone set in the water, with bridges leading off to an area with stuffed chairs, and another with a large table and a sideboard set with a meal. From them, more bridges led deeper into the pond, past thick walls of a green stalky plant that served to block off lines of sight. The water itself was surprisingly clear, and the bottom was covered in large rounded rocks and pebbles. Several large, brightly colored fish swam up to the edge hopefully as Dacien peered in.

"Very pretty," Teodor said, after a moment. "Ah. The promised lunch," he said happily, setting off over the slightly curved wood bridge. "Be careful, Dacien, it's prettier than it is practical. It's very odd ..."

The dining room - if one could call it a room - was essentially rough wood tied together with twisted hemp rope. Heavy posts at the edges supported the platform a few inches over the water, and the floor in turn supported a sizable wooden table with twelve chairs. The table and chairs were matched golden wood, simply but well made, without much of the elaborate decoration Dacien had come to expect from minotaur houses. Or at least, until he got close enough to see the furniture. From a distance, the table and chairs had looked plain, almost severe, emphasizing the soft gold glow of well-polished wood. Up close, however, those so-simple looking wood furnishings had been inlaid with long, subtle strips of amber, curling around and emphasizing the elegance of the curving grain. The glow of the amber emphasized the pale wood, the one setting off the other, and it was hard to say which the table was meant to show off. Both, Dacien finally decided.

There was exactly one setting at the head of the table, five goblets and glasses and cups of slightly different sizes, laid out precisely. A creamy ivory bowl of the elegant minotaur pottery - porcelain - decorated with a pattern of leaves and berries sat on a smaller plate of the same make and pattern, and that in turn sat on a matching larger plate. A napkin, almost the same ivory shade as the dishes, sat to one side, and the entire thing was surrounded by a vast array of utensils.

The only other thing on the table was an complex construction of flowers and leaves and colored glass arches. The sideboard itself was covered in an cunningly embroidered green silk covering, and it was covered with dishes, all under glass domes, with one or two somethings in them. Dacien didn't recognize anything. Any individual dish had only a little on it, but there had to be fifty of those dishes in that massive display.

"Baffling," Teodor said, after a moment. "Right, have you eaten?"

"Sir, yes Sir!"

"Very well. Sit to my right. Dacien, here," and Teodor handed him the bowl from the elaborate setting and a knife and spoon. "Eat." The gray minotaur himself took the larger plate, and selected a few things, and then turned to look at Dacien. "Is something wrong?"

"Not ... I don't know what anything is, Master. So ..."

"Quite reasonable," said Teodor blandly, taking the bowl back, and filling it from several of the plates, and then handing it back. "Some of those, if not all, should be palatable. Please feel free to eat at the table, I'm really too tired to stick to formalities. I just want to eat and go to bed." Teodor paused. "Well, almost."

"Almost, Master?"

"This is all ... quite elaborate," the gray minotaur said slowly. "Yes?"

"I would think so," Dacien replied. "But ... honestly, Master, almost everything by your - minotaur - standards is so far beyond what I'm used to that ... it's all equally believable. Or incredible."

"Trust me, even by minotaur standards, this is ... elaborate," Teodor said dryly. "A suite on a pond? With koi and bamboo screens? Stone bridges and platforms? This is ... much, even by my standards of much."

"Oh."

"I'm trying - and failing - to imagine just what sort of bathing chambers this place offers," Teodor said, lightly.

Teodor and Dacien found out after lunch, after Five had rejoined them. The bathing chambers were fully submerged in the pond, with foot-thick walls of perfectly clear, flawless glass holding back the water and providing a beautiful view of the depths of the pond. The huge, brilliantly colored fish, which Teodor called koi,swam by. Even the huge tub - easily large enough for three minotaurs - were of the same flawless clear glass. The bright metal pipes that carried water to the water-spray were polished to a silver-mirror shine. The floor itself was rough but still the same perfectly clear glass, appearing as if it were poured over the same rounded stones and pebbles that decorated the pond.

"Lord Green created this himself," Teodor said, after a moment of contemplation. "The rest of this suite may be artisanry, albeit of the highest caliber, but this ... this can only be the work of Lord Green personally. Only magic can work glass in this way, and this clarity ... it is a specialty of Lord Green's. I am ... I do not understand," he finished. "It doesn't ... I don't understand, not at all."

"Understand what, Master?"

"Why Lord Green would go to such lengths to show me his deep regard. This ... all of this, is practically an offer of alliance, when we have, for so long, been so fundamentally opposed on matters of policy."

"It makes sense to me," Dacien offered. "I mean, you're his guest, aren't you? It seems in character for a minotaur to go to these lengths if he thinks his honor is involved. He wants to treat you honorably - without any question, doubt, or hint otherwise. You're sheltering in his house, under his protection, and he wants to make clear how committed he is to behaving properly. Honorably."

"Yes," said Teodor heavily, "An excellent analysis, I think you're beginning to understand us." The gray minotaur smiled briefly. "I'm most pleased, Dacien-Apprentice. And ... I would agree with you. And I'd even be impressed - very impressed, with this ... peace offering, I suppose I should call it. And I'd take it." The gray minotaur sighed. "I'd take any offering from Lord Green, so long as it was in good faith. And ... I do not, cannot believe he would do anything like this in bad faith. He's as zealous in regards to his honor as ... as ... well, ..."

"As you are, Master?"

"At least," Teodor said calmly. "Although ... comparing honorable behavior can be ... well. Comparisons are odious. Try to avoid that, in the future."

"Yes, Master."

"But ..."

"But?"

"Why is he wearing an amulet that shields his mind?" Teodor asked, almost plaintively. "It's practically an accusation of mindbending!"

"Oh," said Dacien, remembering Five's lecture. "I see what you mean. Maybe ... well, when you and he met last time ..."

"I recall," said Teodor, climbing back out of the bathing chamber into the bamboo-shrouded bedroom. "I shielded you from the effects of his proximity. There's a certain symmetry to it, I admit. Tit for tat, I understand, but why do that and then treat me like this? That ... that makes ... it's ... baffling. Completely baffling."

"I don't know," Dacien said, considering. "Maybe it will make more sense after we get some sleep?"

"Perhaps," Teodor said, tossing his clothes over a chair, and getting into bed next to the already sleeping Five. "We can hope. I admit I may well be stupid from fatigue. I feel that way, at least." He sighed, and then Dacien felt the cool wet fog of Teodor's magic exploding out into the room and beyond. "There."

"I'm sure it will make sense," Dacien said, laying down next to Teodor. "Sleep well, Master."

An arm gathered him. "Whatever it is, it will have to keep. Sleep well, Dacien."

Erik followed Lord Green around his house - palace, really, as the black minotaur strode through it. That Xavien had no destination didn't become clear to him until they wandered through a rose garden for the second time. Lord Green, Erik realized, was pacing, simply moving to be moving. His walk had changed imperceptibly from angry to thoughtful, and finally, Erik thought, the black minotaur was striding almost meditatively through his gardens and plant nurseries, as if taking some obscure solace from the plants and the occasional sounds of gardening. Only once did they see a gardener, though, human - a young woman, Erik was surprised to see - carefully planting seedlings from a tray into a bed. Lord Green had paused, and selected another route. He'd almost asked the minotaur about her, but Lord Green was clearly deep in some private cogitation that Erik didn't want to disturb.

They'd wandered through any number of gardens, all different, flowers, herbs, even a set of vegetable gardens, although they were displayed almost as if they were ornamental rather than practical. For all Erik knew, perhaps they were. It was in the last garden - thick-leaved trees shading some thriving bushes with purple-striped dark green leaves that the minotaur stopped, turned to look at Erik, and shook his head.

"Master?"

"There's no need for you to follow me at the moment," the minotaur said, in his low rumbling voice. "Return ... do you know how to return to my rooms?"

"I think I could find my way, Master," Erik said.

The minotaur stared at him for a moment. "What you meant, Lathe, was 'No, Master.'"

"Yes, Master."

Xavien simply watched him for another minute. "Are you hungry?"

"No, Master."

"Then stay," the minotaur said quietly. "You may think you can find your way, but this house is a maze. Believe when I say that you would find yourself lost, quickly."

"Yes, Master."

There was a short laugh from Xavien, who wandered over to a tree, and sat down, his back against the trunk. "It's a maze," he repeated. "Patterned on the Ouroborous Labyrinth, by the house's builder, long ago. And it still is, actually, a decent representation. The builder wanted to make sure clan Lycaili didn't ... forget how our parent's defenses were laid out."

"Master?"

"Lycail and his ... followers, I suppose, for lack of a better term, left Clan Ouroborous centuries ago. Five generations back, Lathe. About ... two thousand years, and a little. And Lycail built this house - House Lycail, originally, and now ... House Green." The black minotaur fell silent. "Although the gardens were never this good," he added, reflectively. "The gardens are my addition. Just as the tunnels were the addition of Osse." The black minotaur took a long breath, and then gave Erik a long, considering look.

Erik just met his Master's eyes, not in challenge, but simple acceptance.

"I don't need you for this," Lord Green said, after a moment. "But even so ... Still. Come here. Sit." Erik obediently sat between the minotaur's legs, braced against Xavien's chest, even as the minotaur leaned against the tree trunk. "Would you like to help me balance the water table?"

"Master? I don't ..."

"Never mind," the black minotaur said, as the familiar warm golden haze began to color the world. "Just sit."

Erik looked up at the minotaur, and adjusted himself carefully onto the hardening flesh. "Yes, Master!"

D acien woke, finally, to find Five laying beside him, and Teodor gone. The black-splotched minotaur smiled at the human, and pointed to a tray of small sandwiches. Without saying a word, Five took one of the small sandwiches between his thumb and forefinger, two tiny slices of golden bread with something green and red between them. The morsel looked even smaller to Dacien at that point, in Five's huge hands, but it grew larger and larger as the minotaur held it closer - to Dacien's mouth.

"Open," Five said, smiling quietly. "Master said you'd be hungry. Very hungry."

He was, Dacien realized, as a smell of meat - pork? - reached his nose from the tidbit. He took the little sandwich in his mouth, about a bite and a half or so, and chewed. The bread was soft and fine, with the flavor of barley and honey, and it was spread with a hearty meat-paste and some kind of crunchy vegetable that broke down as he bit into it, sending a cool refreshing vaguely herbal taste to clear out the spiced meat. It was good, he thought, and not just because he was hungry. He dodged the next one, wanting to ask Five where Teodor was.

"With Great Lord Green," Five said. "Master woke several hours ago, in the morning, and ... left. He left me instructions to feed you when you woke up."

Dacien opened his mouth to ask another question, and instead, another sandwich, this one filled with an almost overwhelmingly sweet fruit paste and a mild cheese appeared in his mouth.

"So I've been waiting for you to wake," Five said, grinning.

Dacien chewed and swallowed, and this time, he brought his hand up to fend off another sandwich. "Master told you to stuff sandwiches in my mouth?"

"No," admitted Five, "but he didn't tell me not to. He just said to see that you had food." Another sandwich found its way into Dacien's mouth, another fruit-and-cheese combination. It was tasty, a little less sweet, and Dacien thought he could identify the fruit as apple . "Like so," the minotaur added.

"I can feed myself," Dacien said, after swallowing.

"Yes," the minotaur said, and presented him with another sandwich. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Just hand me the cup, please."

Five put a cup of warm tea in his hand. "There," he said, less saying it than blowing the word out in a warm puff of air.

"When will Master be back?"

Five shook his head. "I don't know. Lord Green was done with me in a few moments; but he said I hadn't taken much damage. Not enough to make any difference."

"So he didn't do anything?"

"He said he repaired it, and that I'd be a little numb. And clumsy. I haven't really noticed the clumsy, but ... it is numb," the minotaur admitted. "I don't ..."

Five vanished into a momentary blur that coalesced back into the minotaur, now holding an bright green-and-red apple and a small knife, and began paring it carefully. "Apple?"

"Yes ..."

Dacien's response was cut off by Lord Green, who had simply stepped into the center of the room. Dacien hadn't seen him walk into the room, nor heard the clear sound of hoof striking stone - but he didn't see how the quiet burbling noises of the pond would cover a sound that seemed so surprisingly loud as the huge black minotaur stepped forward, toward Five and Dacien.

"Your master thought you might be concerned by his continued absence," Lord Green said, the addition of but apparently not clear in the silence as Five dropped into kneel. Dacien fought his own way out of the coverlet, and went into kneel as well, a few seconds afterwards. Lord Green observed the sudden change without expression. "It seems the damage was more complex than I'd thought, and will take more time to set right than I'd expected. He will return tomorrow."

"Thank you, Great Lord," Five said. "Great Lord?"

Lord Green stared at Five for a moment before answering. "Ask."

"What happened to ..."

"As laudatory as your concern for your master is, your concern for the details is unnecessary. He will recover completely. Nor does he require your service at the moment."

"Thank you, Great Lord," Five said.

"Should that change, you will be informed." The black minotaur shifted his head deliberately, staring at Dacien. "And?"

"Great Lord?"

"Am I to understand you have no questions?"

"Just a small ..."

"Ask."

"Are there any pears, Great Lord?"

The silence that followed this question was almost disbelieving, and then Lord Green said, very deliberately, "I regret that I cannot please your discriminating palate, human, but pears are not in season. I trust the food I have supplied is sufficiently nourishing?"

"Yes, Great Lord," Dacien said, "I was asking for Lord Fog."

"Lord Fog inquired after pears?" The minotaur's tone was doubting.

"No, but ... but I didn't see any, and I thought they might ... they would make him feel more at home. Great Lord."

"Pears? I fail to see why pears would make Lord Fog feel more welcome."

"His father ..."

"Yes," said Lord Green, reflectively, cutting Dacien off. "That's right. He must have ... well of course he did, or you wouldn't know." The deep voice trailed off as the black minotaur reached a decision. "Have a slave bring you to greenhouse twelve an hour before sunset," Lord Green said, and then he added, "Don't try to find it yourself."

"Yes, Great Lord."

"In the meantime." The pause was so abrupt that Dacien thought he'd stopped, until he realized that Lord Green was staring at him intently.

"Sir?"

The black minotaur looked uncomfortable for just a moment. "Human. Would it displease your master if I touched you?"

"Touched me how ..." Dacien said, even as Five interrupted, quieting him.

"Great Lord?"

"Yes."

"The human is not ... not fully trained, Great Lord. May I have your permission to explain the question to him, so he will act to please our Master?"

"And yet he is here. I don't think the question is ambiguous, nor needs explanation. Has Lord Fog forbidden him to approach me?"

"Sir," Dacien said after a moment. "My Master has forbidden some things. May I know what you intend to do, so that I can act to please him?"

"I wish to lay my hand upon your head, nothing more."

"And so sense my magic?"

Lord Green looked taken aback for a moment, and then answered. "Yes."

"I do not think that will displease my Master, although ..."

"Yes?"

"Although it would please him to know why, and what you sensed, I think."

Lord Green snorted. "Very well." the minotaur approached, and laid his hand onto Dacien's head. A moment later, he placed his other high on the human's chest.

Dacien wasn't sure what to expect, and he certainly hadn't expected the thick sense of Lord Green's magic to intensify. He could feel it as a thick pressure, like he'd fallen into a bottomless pool of thick, translucent honey, or staring though a great thickness of the clear glass. It was hard to tell, hard to see, but he could feel it, heavy, distorting his vision, a pressure on his skin, but to his other senses, there was nothing.

Nothing at all.

The sensation lasted for a minute, and perhaps longer, until Lord Green stepped back, his hands dropping to his side. "How ... odd."

"Sir?"

Lord Green shook his head. "Greenhouse Twelve. An hour before sunset. Do not be late."

"No, Sir."

Dacien and Five watched as the black minotaur turned and walked out, listening to the subtle changes to the thump of his hooves as he walked from wooden bridge to stone floor and back through the suite. It was nearly a minute before he'd threaded the path back to the suite door, and they heard it open, and then shut. Five looked at Dacien in the silence broken only by the quiet water-noises of the pond.

"What ..." started Dacien.

Five just stared, and then, just raised his hands palms-up in confusion, an apple in one, and the tiny knife in another.

"And how did he get in here?"

"Tempus," said Five quietly.

"Or his own magic," said Dacien.

"Tempus," Five repeated, with the same quiet certainty.

"So why does he want me at a greenhouse?"

Five shook his head. "I don't know. Why did he ... touch you like that?"

How much should he tell Five? Dacien didn't want to lie to the minotaur; even by omission, but ... "He wanted to sense my magic. Magic ... magic has a feel to it. Different magics have ... well, different feels, I suppose. His is ... heavy. Thick. Like honey. Only not quite so ... sticky."

"That's ... I didn't know that," Five said. "What ... what was my old Master's like?"

"Sweet smoke, fragrant. Not quite incense, but close." Dacien paused. "Our Master's is ... fog, cool wet air. Not cold, not chilling, but ... cool. And it's not really at a temperature. Or wet. It ... it just feels that way. Master says we only have our senses, and so magic seems to be those things, even though it isn't."

"I understand that," Five said, apparently in thought. "Tempus is like that." He turned back to Dacien, puzzled. "What is yours, that the Great Lord would call it odd?"

That was a good question, Dacien thought. "It ... doesn't make much of an impression, just ... a slight breeze. Nothing else."

"Why would that be odd?" Five asked.

Dacien smiled briefly. "I don't know. If ..." Teodor, he'd almost said, found it odd, the gray minotaur had never said so. "I don't know very much about magic."

"Yet," Five said. "I ... may I ask why our Master is teaching you magic? It seems ..."

"Different?"

"I've never heard of it being done," Five said cautiously. "Never."

"I'm beginning to think that means more to a minotaur than it would to a human," Dacien said thoughtfully. "Tee - our Master seems ... almost to like change."

Five flinched. "That's ... that's not typical, no."

Dacien nodded. "Does that worry you?"

"I ..." Five stopped, and then gave a soft smile. "It does, I suppose, but it shouldn't. It's not my problem." The black-splotched minotaur seemed to relax. "It's not my problem at all."

"You mean, because you're a slave, you don't have to worry about it?"

"Yes," said Five, with obvious relief. "Exactly. All I have to do is please my Master."

To please. Displease. It pleases me that ...

It was an epiphany. "That's it, isn't it," Dacien said, almost in shock. "That's the point, isn't it. The only thing a slave does is to please his - her - master. Everything else is up to ... him."

"Of course," said Five, looking at Dacien oddly.

"So you don't have to worry about protocol, or etiquette, or honor, or ... any of those things."

"Of course," Five said again.

"So anything your Master tells you pleases him is the highest form of emphasis," Dacien said.

"Of course," Five said.

"Well, I didn't know that!" Dacien said. "Even Teodor - "

" Master! " said Five.

"Master," acknowledged Dacien. "He didn't tell me that. He ..." the human thought for a moment. What had Teodor told him? "Just what his responsibilities were. I thought mine ... I ... I thought I was supposed to obey him."

"Well, of course."

"But I only obey him because it pleases him, right?"

Five sat back on the bed. "What?"

"What if he gave me an order that carrying out would ... displease ... him?"

"Why would he do that?"

"I'm sure he wouldn't," Dacien said, with a sigh. "But suppose he did?"

"But if he wouldn't," Five said cautiously, "why does it matter?"

"Because I'm trying to understand how this works," Dacien said. " You understand it. Master understands it. But I think both of you understand it so well that ... that neither of you can explain it. It just is."

"What else would it be?"

Dacien opened his mouth to say , exactly , but he just closed it again. "I don't know," the human said instead. "But ... please, Five, help me understand, because ... because I don't. Not the way you do."

"All right," said Five.

"What if he gave me an order that carrying out would displease him?"

"Then you should not carry it out," said Five, sounding troubled. "But I think this is very dangerous. Our Master tells us things so that we can better serve him, not so that we can second-guess his commands or pleasure. It is our Master's responsibility to make certain that we understand what is expected and desired and what will please him. So such an order would be ... it would not be a proper order, and it would be wrong of him to give it." Five paused, and then added, "And I do not believe Master would give such an order."

"Probably not," Dacien agreed.

"Then I don't understand why it's so important."

After a moment of thought, Dacien just smiled up at the minotaur. "Maybe it isn't," he said. "I'm sorry if I upset you by asking." Dacien reached out, and stroked Five's face. "Maybe we do something else. It would please Master if ... we pleased each other, wouldn't it?"

Five blinked, and then smiled. "Yes," he said. "I think it would."

Erik didn't say anything to Right, but the human had been leading him in circles, looking for Lord Fog's suite in the Chorus Wing. They'd been through the entry foyer eight times, and Right finally just shook his head. "I'm sorry. The middle door should take us right to the Great Lord's suite, but ..."

"It doesn't," said Erik.

"No," said Right. "I don't understand it ..."

I do , thought Erik, thinking about his last session with Talosh. Something - minotaur magic, wolven mind twisting, something , was keeping them away from the suite. He looked around the foyer, white and pink marble with a domed ceiling all of glass panes in a metal framework. Extravagant, but not surprising, not for Lord Green, and certainly in keeping with the rest of the minotaur mage's home. "We'll just wait here," Erik said after a moment. "They'll have to come out eventually."

"It's easy to find your way out here from the Lake Suite," Right said, frustrated, and starting to sound panicked. "I just ..."

"Don't worry about it," Erik said. "I don't think it's your fault."

"But I know this section of the House! I'm supposed to!"

"It's not your fault," Erik repeated. "The Great Lord did something to protect his privacy, changed something. I don't think anyone could find his suite."

"But ..." and Right sounded almost frantic.

Erik clenched his teeth. " Kneel! " he said. It was his Commander-of-Ten voice, a voice he hadn't used for ...

for ...

He wasn't sure for how long, he realized. He hadn't even been sure it was still there, after Lord Green and Talosh and everything else. It still worked, though, as Right had slipped into the knees folded position almost instantly. "Down." That wasn't snapped the way the first command had been, but still ...

Right leaned forward, putting some of his weight on his hands, directly in front of him.

"Entering the Great Lord's suite against his wishes will not endear you to our Master," Erik said calmly.

"No, Sir."

"Don't call me Sir ," Erik said.

"No," and the human sounded abashed. Minotaurs were called sir. Not humans.

"We'll wait here," Erik said, again. "You can get up, if you want."

"Yes," Right said, without getting up.

"Suit yourself," Erik said, and sat down on the floor himself, not in a formal position, but just leaning against the wall. He wished - briefly - he had more clothing than just the loincloth, but it was warm, and Lord Green felt, apparently, that near-naked humans were more attractive than fully clad ones, so all he had was the loincloth and a pair of sandals, and the stone of the floor was almost cold.

Erik had been afraid that he'd have missed his chance to see Dacien, when the shadows on the floor had stopped shortening and started lengthening, and they were gone completely now, the sun sunken below the level of the glass when someone finally came out of a door that somehow hadn't been there a moment ago, and -

Still wasn't there, a moment later.

But it was Dacien! And better dressed than Erik was; Lord Fog apparently considered humans attractive in shirt and trousers as well as sandals. If Lord Fog concerned himself with such things, of course. Erik stood eagerly, his chilled muscles complaining slightly. Only ...

"Hey!" he said, not wanting to use his friend's name. That might be bad, and certainly not in front of Right.

"Hey yourself," Dacien said, after a moment, and a grin spread over his face. "I'm glad to see you. I ... I didn't know what happened to anyone, after ..."

"I don't know much, either," Erik said. "They gave me to Great Lord Green. Almost immediately."

Dacien nodded. "And me to Great Lord Fog."

"Was ... was it bad?" Erik regretted the question almost as soon as asking it. He didn't want to think what his first days had been like, and he didn't want to remind his friend of ... of anything he wanted to forget.

But Dacien's answer surprised him. "No."

Dacien wished, momentarily, that the question had surprised him. He wondered just how bad it had been for Erik, but he wasn't sure he should ask. Lord Green was surely a more ... traditional minotaur than Teodor was, and he'd probably been a lot harder on Erik than Teodor had been on him and even the question itself sounded like ... it had been been pretty rough on Erik. "There were some ... bad moments -" like almost getting killed for using magic without permission "- but on the whole, it wasn't bad." After all, I, and Five, and Teodor, all of could be dead. Like Luzeil.

Erik nodded, and then he chuckled. "I'm glad," he said, and Dacien realized that Erik wasn't going to tell him how bad it had been, at least not right now. He was too busy appreciating that Dacien had made the transition, better that he had, apparently. Maybe he could get Teodor to acquire Erik? Could it hurt to ask?

"He's using you as a lens?" Dacien asked.

"Yes," said Erik. "And I guess your ... Master is doing the same."

That was a hard question, all right. Yes wasn't truthful, and, somehow, he just didn't want to lie to his friend. No would lead to question he knew he didn't want to answer. "It's not easy to talk about."

"No," Erik agreed. "But ... I'm glad to see you, too. I saw you go down, and ..."

"Broken leg," Dacien said. "They healed me, so I could walk away." Lord Fog, actually, had healed him, although he hadn't seen it.

"Easier for you to walk than be carried, I suppose," Erik said.

"No. That was the agreement with the wolven -" and why did Erik start when he mentioned wolven " - that the minotaurs would keep all the humans who could walk off the battlefield. The rest ... the rest went to the wolven."

"You know what they did, right?"

"Yeah," Dacien answered.

"It wasn't right," Erik said quietly. "It wasn't right at all."

Dacien thought about trying to explain it, but it wasn't worth it. Especially when he agreed with Erik. "No. No, it wasn't." And it would be too hard to explain that at least one minotaur thought it hadn't been right, either. "I don't suppose you know where greenhouse twelve is, do you?"

"No," said Erik. "We can't even find the Chorus Wing. We've been looking for your suite for ... hours."

"It's here," the other human offered, dejectedly. "Somewhere."

A moment of concentration revealed a cool gray fog wisping around the room. Nondiscernment. When the obvious became unfindable, it was undoubtedly Lord Fog's work, but Dacien didn't say so. "Well, that aside Right, do you know where greenhouse twelve is?"

"Maybe," said Right.

"Could you show us?"

The slave looked at Erik, and then Dacien, and then looked back at the entry. "I can try. I haven't been successful with ..."

"That's fine," Dacien said. "Really. Greenhouse twelve."

"This way."

The trip didn't take longer than a few minutes, and was, with the exception of ducking down into a stone tunnel and back out, relatively straightforward. Dacien managed to talk with Erik, and leave the problematic topics behind. They agreed the food was better, and somehow avoided discussing their respective masters. Dacien got the impression, from the points where Erik went silent, that Lord Green was not easy to get along with, nor particularly forgiving of 'feral' humans. And ...

Addicted. Completely, totally, absolutely addicted to the black minotaur. It made him wonder why any minotaur would bother being reasonable. They didn't have to. It didn't matter how abrupt, how uncaring, how brutal they were - all they had to do was keep a human close, and after a few weeks, he - or she, Dacien supposed - would crave the minotaur like air or water. Erik described - sort of - the things Lord Green had done to him. Using him a lens, without explaining what euphoria was. The whipping. And Erik was defending, or at least excusing, Lord Green's actions. Addiction; this had to be addiction.

Dacien tested his own feelings, and wasn't surprised to find that he was missing Teodor. Was that a sign of his own addiction? Was he addicted to Teodor like Erik was to Lord Green? How ... how could he tell? It seemed obvious to Dacien that Lord Green was mistreating Erik, but ... Erik didn't think so. Erik actually seemed to like Lord Green. Dacien just thought he was an arrogant, self-centered bully.

The bully was waiting for them in Greenhouse Twelve when they arrived, contemplating a number of young trees. The black minotaur turned as they entered, and his face narrowed as he saw Erik.

"Lathe, what are you doing here?"

"You dismissed me, Master, so I decided to see my friend ..."

"Enough," Lord Green said, with just a hint of irritation. "It does not please me, Lathe, to see you associating with other feral humans. That is part of your past life; not part of your current one. Leave, and do not seek such out again."

Erik shot Dacien a hard-to-read look, and then nodded. "Yes, Master." He turned, and said softly, without looking Dacien in the face, "Goodbye."

The black minotaur's nostrils flared as he caught the word, but he said nothing as Erik walked back out. Lord Green's eyes tracked back to Dacien, and the human wondered what the minotaur was thinking. "So you knew that one before he and you entered minotaur lands," Lord Green said.

"Yes, Sir." It might not have been a question, but then, it might have, too.

"Forget him," the minotaur said curtly. "Holding on to such things is poison."

"Yes, Sir."

The minotaur gestured at the tree in front of him. "Do you recognize this?"

Dacien looked at it; it looked like a tree.

"It's a tree, Sir."

"Yes," Lord Green said, and gripped the tree. Without trying, without meaning too, Dacien could feel magic surge through the minotaur, and into the tree, and then jetting out of the tree, like an overfull waterskin with a leaky seam, except that the magic was flowing out through the tree, through the trunk, branches, roots, and ... although the magic flowing in was thick and transparent, when it emerged from the tree, it had changed. The smell of freshly turned earth filled the greenhouse, along with the now green-tinted magic. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, and then tiny leaves popped out of the tree, followed by blossoms. Lord Green pulled back from the tree.

"We have to let it rest for a moment," the minotaur said. "It's not useful to take directly through the blossoms."

"I don't understand, Sir." Dacien said.

"No? Well, keep watching. The point will become clear."

"No, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir. I understand this is a pear tree, I don't understand what you told me about blossoms."

Lord Green nodded. "Reasonable. I can accelerate the growth of this tree, but for some reason, I can't do so through the blossoms. They have to rest for a minute or so, if the tree is to produce pears, and not blossoms that merely drop off the tree and do not fruit."

"I ... I thank you. Sir. Thank you."

"Thank me? Whatever for?"

"Helping me to please my Master," Dacien said. "Sir."

"I want to discuss exactly what you did with that curse, what happened, in detail, human," Lord Green said. "Not now. I want Lord Fog present."

Dared he? "May I ..."

"Ask a question," Lord Green sighed. "Humans. Questions. Ask."

He would, Dacien decided. "Sir, even a ... a feral human like myself can see that you are going to great lengths to welcome my Master."

"Good."

Just ask. Dacien "Sir, why are you wearing that amulet?"

"That's hardly ..." the black minotaur paused. "Perhaps it is a better question that I first thought," Lord Green said slowly. "I take it ... Lord Fog considered my wearing it as ... a sign that I was less than happy to host him."

Careful. Dacien thought carefully about how he would say this."Sir, I wouldn't presume to say what my Master thought. He did wonder aloud why you were wearing it."

"Not ... not unsurprising, I suppose," Lord Green said. "To answer your question, I wear it because Lathe has an unpleasant signature - you are familiar with the concept of a mage-signature?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you know what yours is?"

Danger. "I do not think discussing that would please my Master, Sir."

"Perhaps not," Lord Green said. "Lathe makes persons around him angry."

"That's horrible!" Dacien said, stunned.

"It is certainly something to be watched closely," Lord Green said. "It appears to be a short-range phenomenon. That signature would probably have been fatal with a more powerful mage, but fortunately for him, Lathe's power is minor."

Unlike mine, Dacien thought. "I understand, Sir."

"Therefore, I wear an amulet that shields me from mind-affecting signatures. I use it for some of my fellow Lords, too." Lord Green paused. "I think I would prefer to inform Lord Fog of this ... misunderstanding myself. Human."

"Great Lord," Dacien said slowly, "I think ... I think it will please my Master greatly to know this."

A smile appeared very briefly on the black minotaur's face before vanishing. "Good. But yes, I understand. You feel it is your duty to report this."

Dacien thought carefully. "Sir, is it not?"

The eyes narrowed. "I would think it is."

"But, Sir, you will see my Master before I do."

"Yes," agreed the black minotaur. He turned back to the tree, touched it and magic flared briefly. "Ah. It's ready." He touched the the bark with just the tips of his fingers, and the faintest trickle of magic brushed across Dacien's thoughts. Lord Green's face had relaxed; gone blank with concentration. His focus was very much on the tree.

And the tree responded, slowly, or not so slowly, when Dacien stopped to think about it. Tiny buds were green one moment, and then unfurled into leaves. It wasn't fast by human standards, or even, Dacien supposed, by minotaur standards. A snail's pace, Dacien thought. The leaves were stretching out, the blossoms opening, so slowly that it could barely be seen.

Only, it could be seen. Dacien simply watched as over the next fifteen minutes, the tree went from early spring to late summer, pears swelling into existence from the dropped blossoms, tiny little green buds that just grew larger with almost agonizing slowness

As slow as it was, it was still incredible to watch, and Dacien just stared as the tree stretched out, it's branches lengthening up and out, the leaves deepening in color as the fruit grew. The flow of magic from Lord Green was steady, unchanging, just the barest trickle. Dacien's eyes slipped from the tree to the minotaur, and he realized immediately that this was nowhere near as simple as Lord Green wanted it to look. The flow to the the tree was tiny; the roiling magics around Lord Green were ... Dacien wasn't sure what they were, except that that Lord Green's concentration was far more concerned with that than he was with whatever subtlety was happening with the tree.

"Some kind of interference?" Dacien asked, and then he realized that perhaps he should have been more reticent with the black minotaur.

Oddly, though, the black minotaur just snorted. "Something like, yes. Remarkably observant, or ... perhaps you see clearly. Which, human?"

Dacien was quiet for a moment, thinking.

"Well?"

"A little of both, I think, Sir," Dacien said. "From what my Master has said, I can see magic very well. But ... understanding what I see is ... hard. Harder."

"Fair," Lord Green allowed. "So, then, human, what do make of what you see here?"

"Excuse me, Sir, but ... I don't understand why you're asking."

The minotaur snorted again. "Xavien, human, while we are doing this magic."

"We?"

"You are observing, I am working. That is both of us, involved in the same magic, and therefore, familial address is proper. Has not your Master taught you this?"

"Some of it, Xavien, but ... I'm still learning." Dacien had a sinking feeling that this was going to get him - or worse, Teodor - into trouble, but he wasn't sure what he could to get out of it.

"Yes," the black minotaur said matter-of-factly. "Were you a native, or a minotaur, civilized behavior would be second nature; you would have been properly socialized. As it is, I don't think a feral can ever fit in well without serious effort."

"I don't understand," Dacien said, both because he didn't, and because it seemed like a safe thing to say.

"Then understand this, human. I have asked you a question about the magic, and you have avoided answering."

"That's clear, Xavien." Dacien focused on the roiling magic, trying to make sense of the complex ripples. Part of it was Xavien's magic itself, he realized. Instead of the slow welling flood of magic he'd seen the day before, it was choked, restricted ... bottled up, and ... that was the problem. Lord Green - Xavien - was deliberately throttling his own magic. Dacien stared for another few minutes, and then a slowly growing pear caught his eye. He looked at for a moment before Xavien interrupted him.

"Well?"

"I'm trying to figure it out, Xavien."

"You may believe that, but in point of fact you are watching the pear tree," the black minotaur said. "Your attention is not where I told it to be."

Dacien started to object, and then he realized that the black minotaur was right. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry."

"Xavien," the minotaur corrected calmly. "I trust Lord Fog has told you that magic is dangerous. Easily fatal?"

"Yes, Suh - Xavien. He has. And ..."

"There are exercises, mental and physical, grueling, but effective in teaching focus. Focus is crucial. Much of magework is dull, repetitive, and tedious. And it is exactly those dull, repetitive, tedious things that will kill you and anyone working with you when your attention drifts."

"Yes, Xavien."

The rumble continued in a neutral tone. "And it is still not where I told you to place it. You are thinking either that I am being unreasonable, or that you see the accuracy of my criticism. Both are equally inappropriate for this time and place. Your attention and focus should be on ..."

"Your magic, Xavien, yes," and Dacien refocused his attention. There wasn't anything new to see, though.

"I see that your magic is restricted, somehow, that you're ... choking it off," Dacien said finally. "I don't understand why."

"You see that, do you?" said Lord Green thoughtfully. "Intriguing. What do you know of signatures, mage-signatures, human?"

"My Master ... how is ... how should I refer to him?"

"As 'Master' or 'Great Lord Fog,'" the black minotaur said. "Continue."

"Master said that mages leak magic into the world, and that that magic takes form as a mage-signature, something that just ... happens. He described it as usually inconvenient."

"An understatement," Lord Green said. "Mages have been driven to contemplate suicide by their signatures. I am fortunate in that I am a mage, and doubly fortunate in that my signature rarely troubles me. Did Lord Fog happen to tell you what it was?"

"That you made plants grow," Dacien said automatically, and then he said, "Oh!"

"What?"

"That's the interference, isn't it, Xavien? You're fighting your own signature."

"Correct. There's a little more to it than that," the minotaur said, sounding a little surprised. "The problem is twofold; the magic I'm using here resonates with my signature, so I'm having to restrict the magic to this single tree, otherwise the resonance of the spell would effect every plant around for miles. And that would be draining on me, and worse for the plants, which would all respond to the spell at different rates."

"Which would kill them, wouldn't it?"

"That is more difficult to say," said Lord Green. "Some would die. Many. Others would not. It would ruin the crops for this season, at a bare minimum."

"Oh," Dacien said, a little stunned.

"It's not going to happen," said the minotaur. "I mention it more to impress upon you that magic is dangerous."

"My Master has already done that," Dacien said feelingly.

"Good," the minotaur said. "It's difficult to emphasize sufficiently. Perhaps impossible."

"Is ... is the majority of the danger to those around the practicing mage, then?"

Lord Green nodded seriously. "Those around a mage are in at least as much danger as the mage himself. Lord Fog has stressed this?"

"He has, Xavien."

"Hmmm," the black minotaur said noncomittally, but still sounding mollified.

"I understand you don't approve."

"No," Lord Green said heavily. "I don't. I think it's dangerous. It's obvous, however Teodor try to obscure it, that he's treating you as an apprentice, not a slave. But as long as he can lean on Ruus's support - and he does, he can fog the issues up."

"Dangerous?"

"Very. Lord Fog places himself - and you, I might add - and everyone around you in danger by instructing you. Do you know how long you will be an apprentice?"

"No," Dacien said.

"Fifty to eighty years before you can safely handle magic on your own," said Lord Green. "Fifty to eighty years before you will be other than a handicap and obstacle, and by that time, human, you'll be dead. Where is the benefit from the risk of your teaching?"

"I ..."

Lord Green silenced him with a look. "You have no earth affinity - I would know if you did, human. And without that active affinity, you cannot work the life-extension yourself. And only a human earth-affined mage could do it for you. Oh, I can apply the magic to you, and it will give you health and long life, but it will not stretch your years beyond those alotted."

"So I'll never be a practicing mage?"

Lord Green stepped back from the tree, and Dacien looked at it, surprised to see it full of ripe pears. "I don't see how," the black minotaur said, almost regretfully. "Lord Fog has not shared his plans with me - I doubt he ever would, really, but ... I do not see how you could survive to be productive."

"But ..." Hadn't Lord Fog said that minotaurs were originally as short-lived as humans? "But before you had your magic to ... to extend your life, how did minotaur mages manage to be useful?"

The black minotaur blinked, and the massive head twitched closer to him. "There is a box, human. Harvest the pears."

"Yes, ... Sir?"

"Xavien. This magic not complete, not yet." The black minotaur gave a muzzle-twisted grin. "Pick."

Make yourself useful, Dacien heard, although the minotaur didn't say anything. Even so, he'd done harder things than harvest pears, so he picked them, quietly, feeling the eyes of the black minotaur on him while he worked. There had been three boxes, not one, and he filled two and a half with ripe pears.

"And now, we put the tree back to where it was," Lord Green said, reaching out to touch it. The magic stirred again, with the same curious restraint that he'd applied the first time.

"Back where it was?"

"In its cycle; the tree is a year older. There's another growth ring, because of this work."

"But that ... that doesn't hurt the tree, does it?"

"Not appreciably, no," said the minotaur, with a hint of approval.

"May I ..."

"Ask," said Lord Green, with a tired sigh.

"If you disapprove so strongly of what Lord Fog is doing, why are you ... telling me all this?"

Lord Green shook his head. "You asked, human. Implicitly, explicitly, it doesn't matter. You asked, and I see no harm in telling you, nor do I think that Lord Fog will be ... displeased by my telling you. He knows all these things, and I suspect ... I suspect if he has mentioned these small obstacles, he has glossed over them. Has he not?"

"He hasn't ... he hasn't shared any specifics, no."

Lord Green pulled his hand away from the tree. "There. The magic is complete, human. Can you find your way back?"

Dacien looked around for Right, but the human slave wasn't there. Had he left with Erik - Lathe? "I ... probably not. It's ..."

"The house is confusing at first," the minotaur said. "And even afterwards." He gestured at the boxes. "Take a box, human, and follow."

Dacien hefted a box, and set off after the minotaur. "Yes, Sir."

There was no reply other than a soft grunt.

"Sir, I know you don't approve. But ... I think you're wrong, Sir."

"Am I?" Lord Green said, almost musingly, and then, without turning, he had turned, facing Dacien, his face set. "Wrong? How? You are human. This is not a failing, it is a fact. Lord Fog proposes to have you bear a load meant not for a human, but a minotaur. Madness. A stem of wheat is a marvelous thing, a thing of value, and there is no failing in it. The failure is in the fool who asks it to be an oak. It is not. You are a human, malleable and ... incapable of resisting a minotaur's will. This is not a failing in a human. Even now, knowing that I am a foe of your Master's policies, knowing that I oppose his policies like poison - because they are poison - you are still driven to seek my approval. It is your nature - human nature. I do not fault for you it, I do not hold it against you, and indeed, I think you approach the problem cleverly. But the bias is there, and that bias will be used against Lord Fog, and it is wrong - cruel - to place you in a position where you can be used against him, and know that you are being so used." The black minotaur turned back, and resumed his march.

Five didn't say anything until Lord Green had left, and even then, he was quiet, glancing at Dacien from time to time as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't. They arranged the pears on one of the platters they had emptied earlier. The lighting was dim, now that the sun had gone down, but even that faint illumination was enough to turn the glass of the ceilings into dim mirrors, and Dacien stared uncomfortably at the endless reflections.

"Is there some way to ... Master knew how to shut them off," Dacien said, finally, and Five nodded.

"Do ... do you want them off?" the minotaur slave replied.

"I ... yes. Yes. I mean, it would be easier to sleep if ... we ... weren't staring at ourselves. Wouldn't it?"

"It doesn't matter to me," Five said quietly. "But I can shut them off, if you like."

"Yes. Do. Please."

Five got up, and fiddled with something near the entry - a stone on the floor, and the lights dimmed into darkness. "There," Five said.

Dacien just waited, but the splotched minotaur said nothing, just returning to the bed quietly, laying down. Dacien let his eyes adjust to the darkness, shapes started to appear out of what had been inky blackness, and he looked up, through the ceiling, at the night sky. It was full of stars; hazy, twinkling, dimmed, perhaps, even through the incredibly clear glass panes, but full stars nevertheless.

Strange stars. This was not the night sky of the Empire.

"Five?"

"Yes?"

"I know ... I know why I'm upset," Dacien said, Lord Green's words in mind. "But I don't think you have that excuse."

"I don't understand," Five said, almost automatically.

"I'm sorry," Dacien said. "Lord ... Great Lord Green said some things that ... made me think. But you didn't hear them, and they don't apply to you, anyway, so, whatever's got you upset has to be something different."

"Who said I was upset?"

"Five," Dacien said. "Please."

"Yes, I'm upset. I think ... I think I've failed our Master," Five admitted. "I think I should be with him. I don't know where he is, I don't know if he's safe, and I ... I have a duty to him."

"To please him?"

Five was silent for a moment. "Yes," he said after a moment. "I may not have displeased him, but ... I should be with him, if he has not said otherwise."

"But he did say otherwise," Dacien pointed out.

"Yes, when he thought he'd be back in an hour or two." Five looked up suddenly, and then relaxed.

"Five?"

"It's nothing," the minotaur said. "I just hope ... I hope I haven't made a mistake."