Ditani took him first to the Blue Dolphin Inn. Lebuin had never been inside it but had walked past it dozens of times on his way to the docks and his family's offices. Ditani again held the door for him as he entered. The smoke parted around him as he entered. Even through the filtering of his shields he could smell the various scents of tobac. Smiling, he decided he should also get some of the better leaf today as he was running low. He took a minute to let his eyes adjust better to the dimmer room. It was much larger than he expected, taking up slightly more than half of the central section of the building, and stretching all the way front to back. A large bar stood across the back wall. Halls led off out of the room from the back right and left sides. There were three large fireplaces, now burning low. Next to the bar on the back wall was a wide table with a cloth covering that had the box symbols for card games. Some tables had a metal scissor-like apparatuses mounted in them which, observing a few of those tables with occupants, was for holding a dagger upright. Some of the other tables also had a dagger stuck right into the wood of the table.

Looking at the people sitting at the tables with upright daggers he found they all were looking back at him with a.s.sessing eyes. Not one of them embarra.s.sed and most met him eye to eye. These are Daggers for hire. I forgot the Blue Dolphin is supposed to be where the best of the Daggers hire out. Looking at the daggers in the tables he saw that they were all functional weapons, but each was very distinctive. I need to ask Dad what the protocol is for hiring a Dagger. I might need one, and I probably can afford one of the best.

Ditani motioned for him to follow and led him to the bar, where a large muscled man was talking to a couple of well-dressed gentlemen. A lady dressed more like a city guard stood in the middle of the bar facing him, leaning back against the counter with a heavy mug in one hand the other resting on the hilt of a sword. The bartender was dressed well, but his clothes had dozens of stains from the food and drink he served. Trying to not look too out of place, Lebuin sat down on one of the many stools at the bar. He then looked back around the room. The Daggers had gone back to whatever they were doing when he came in. Some were writing in journals, others had an array of objects on their tables and were using them to work on one weapon or another. Still others were just talking. It was busier than he expected for midmorning. A few people, mostly reasonably well-dressed, vacated a table after looking him over. He noticed that a group of workmen who came in behind him walked past empty tables with the dagger holders and chose to sit at the communal tables. Why not sit at the empty table? Can only Daggers sit at those tables?

Looking at the daggers, not exactly good behavior sticking a dagger into a table especially when there are empty tables with dagger holders for just that purpose. There were three empty tables with holders and they were all near one wall or another. As he watched, a well-dressed man handed a couple of bells to one of the Daggers sitting at a table with a holder near the center of the room. The Dagger and his companions stood up, taking his dagger from the holder, and they left with their employer. Immediately there was a silent exchange of looks between the Daggers at tables without holders and one stood up, pulled his dagger out of the wooden table, walked over and sat down, placing his dagger into the holder. That was interesting. There must be a ranking order. Those other empty holder tables must signify something that these others don't feel up to challenging or claiming.

"Master." He remembered he was here for a purpose and while he had been staring at the unfamiliar room Ditani had been talking in soft tones with the bartender. "Magus Vestul has still not been seen."

"Let's go check the room."

"I don't have the key."

"Well we can still knock; won't the inn keeper open it for us?"

"No, that isn't how it works here. Blue Dolphin rooms are for key-holders only. If you don't have a room key or are a known invited guest they won't let you go upstairs."

Thinking of Magus Gezu, he asked, "What if Magus Vestul died in the room overnight of a heart problem like Magus Gezu?"

Ditani looked worried at the new thought. "I don't know. It is not very likely."

Lebuin turned around to the bar and signaled for the barkeeper to come over. After a minute he did.

"Yes, m'lord. Wha' can I getcha?"

"I'd like to speak to the innkeeper please."

The large man stood still staring at him for a minute as if he was an interesting new insect. A shiver ran down his back and he strengthened his shield a little more. The barkeeper's voice remained calm, even friendly. "M'lord, I'm da inn keeper, owner an' enforcer. How may I serve you?" The last had only a slight accent.

Oh great, I have insulted one of the most influential people in the city and I have only been a Journeyman here for a few marks. Smiling as nicely as he could, he covertly pulled a chera out and placed it on the counter near his hand - and, he hoped, out of view of most of the room's occupants. "My apologies. I am worried about a friend, Magus Vestul. He was not exactly young; is there any way to check his room to be sure he hasn't had an accident?"

The large man considered the idea for a minute. "Wait here." He then walked around the end of the bar, crossed the room, and went up a set of circular stone stairs which Lebuin had not noticed, as the entrance was hidden from the main door but visible from the bar. All of the Daggers watched the innkeeper as he left, then looked back at Lebuin. He felt like a specimen on display, so he casually as possible turned his back on the room and leaned on the bar. Ditani stood next to him, facing the room.

Smiling he reached for where his coin had been on the counter. He didn't take the coin. I thought bribes were common. His hand came up empty, and he looked at the bar in shock. Wait, where is the coin? Lebuin looked at the other people near the bar; none of them were close enough to have taken it. Thinking back, he mused, I'd swear on a stack of crowns he didn't reach for the coin, and no one else could have either.

He looked at Ditani, confused. Ditani stood there looking at the room. "Do you think he'll open the room?"

"Of course, but where did my chera go?" he asked softly.

Ditani glanced at him with almost the same look as the innkeeper before answering, "Genne took it, of course."

Turning slightly, he was able to watch the room. As he waited, well-dressed folks came and went pretty often. Almost every merchant or n.o.ble actually walked around the room, boldly examining the daggers in the tables and the Daggers sitting at them too. "Is that normal?"

Ditani looked at what he was watching. "Of course. Merchants need specific services, so they have to find the right Dagger for their needs. No Dagger will ever take offense at being sized up by a client."

The innkeeper returned. "M'lord, ya needn't worry, yer friend ain't dead in da room. Der ain't no-un in da room. Can I getcha any ting else?"

Well, so much for an easy solution. Now what? Disappointed at the lack of a simple solution, he shook his head no. "Thank you, no. Can you tell him Journeyman Lebuin would like to speak with him as soon as possible at the Guildhouse when he comes back?"

"O'course m'lord. Ri'after I tell im of all da udder request. Very popular, dat one. I'ave ta' charge him more nex'time."

Now that is interesting. "Uh, popular? I take it there are a lot of people asking to see him."

The innkeeper looked at him for a few moments before he realized that nothing more was going to come without some coin. Sighing, he fished out another chera. This time he left his finger on it. The innkeeper smiled a friendly smile and gave him a wink. "Ya might say dat. Been tree udders askin' after him."

Beginning to get the feel for this, he left the coin where it was but added another one. Smiling, he leaned a little closer. "Anyone I might know?"

"No m'lord, 'least, not likely. One was a friend o' Duke, a'nudder was a recent regular, Sula by name, and da last was a Knife, stake me rep on dat, I would."

I know about the Duke, and what a Knife is I don't think I want to know. Maybe I can meet this Sula and we can help each other. Nodding as he added a third coin, "Sula is a new regular? Where might I find him?"

The innkeeper's hand came down, covering his hand and all three coins. It was heavy, muscled and coa.r.s.e on the back of his hand. "M'lord, be careful o'dat one. Ya can fin' 'er at da Temple o' Dalpha. Dats al'I can do for ya." He turned, lifting his hand, and moved to some customers who were trying to dress well but failing miserably. Looking down, he saw all three of the coins were gone. Now that is an interesting trick.

Standing up, he motioned for Ditani to follow and he walked out, trying to look confident. On the way he took note of some Daggers he might come back and talk to later, after he had a chance to get some advice on hiring them. Both of the Daggers he was most interested in nodded politely to him as Ditani opened the door for him. d.a.m.n, how did they know I was thinking of them?

Once outside he started walking towards the docks and the main market. "This Sula sounds like she might be able to help. We can get to the Temple of Dalpha through the market." Ditani simply nodded and followed.

The market was as busy as always, buskers screaming their wares, merchants in booths vying for the attention of anyone who even glanced at their stalls. Temple Street was on the far side of the market, so they simply began maneuvering through the stalls on a general course for the temple district. As they moved through the market he paid closer attention to the mundane things he had never considered buying, like the leather backpacks and the more st.u.r.dy boots. I need some boots that will not wear out, but I can keep looking respectable.

As he rounded a stall he caught sight of a serviceably but beautifully dressed woman wearing a dusky brick-red cloak with a rust-colored hood and fur-trimmed collar. The woman was just turning away from him, heading down another row. Her tanned skin and curly dark brown hear were perfectly suited to the dusky colors she wore. My Lord, it can't be. That is the girl from the alley! She had already stepped out of sight with a sweetmeat in one hand and a pack swung over the opposite shoulder.

"Come on, I think I know her." Stepping faster, he dodged around some other shoppers, not sure what he would do when he met her. But still, he knew he wanted to at least talk to her. He moved so fast Ditani was left behind. She was a few feet down the aisle when he rounded the corner. Smiling, he moved hurriedly to get close enough to say h.e.l.lo.

An explosion of light and sound hit him from behind, pushing him forward violently. His shield buckling under the force, he stumbled and tried to stay up. What the h.e.l.l was that? Rebounding off the girl, knocking her forward as well, he managed to regain his footing. At the same time he pushed what energy he could through his channels to recover the protective shield. The sudden rush of energies was slightly more than needed, and the excess burnt as the channels allowed what they could to flow through. Turning around, he looked for the source of the force that had hit him.

Everywhere people were running and screaming, except for one man only a few paces away. The man was rough looking, wearing all black from neck to foot. He held a rod that was pointed straight at Lebuin. The man looked mad, and his eyes burned with a hatred Lebuin found hard to stand against. G.o.ds, an a.s.sa.s.sin! Panic welled up inside Lebuin as lightning leaped from the rod, striking him again. His shield was not enough, and he felt like a fire had exploded inside him as the energy channel was forcibly disrupted. Worse, the energies he was trying to send through the now-destroyed channel began pooling and burning. The shield was gone, and he was burning inside from energies that no longer had a place to go, as well as from the tag end of the attack that had charred his arms and chest.

The man in black looked momentarily amazed and then moved rapidly towards Lebuin. His voice was husky but chilling. "d.a.m.n it!" was all Lebuin heard as he saw him pull a knife with the other hand and threw it into his chest.

The pain from the knife snapped something in Lebuin. Looking at the approaching a.s.sa.s.sin he released all the energies that were burning in him and connected a ley line in the air to the attack formula he had prepared before leaving the Guild, targeting the a.s.sa.s.sin. You can join me. As he started to collapse, golden energies leaped from his hands, arcing to the a.s.sa.s.sin. Some energy jumped to the rod in the a.s.sa.s.sin's hand; as the darkness came, Lebuin smiled that his last sight was of his killer exploding in flames. Screams echoed down into the dark as he fell. Faintly he heard Ditani screaming his name, then nothing at all.

Chapter 5.

Knives are out ENJOYING THE SWEET AND SALTY flavor of the sweetmeat, Ticca strolled through the marketplace. Comparing the morning's purchases against her list of needed items, she smiled. Her new pouch had two separate compartments with identical sets of items. The exception was one had practically nothing of value, while the other held the real items. She was particularly pleased with the set of journals she'd found. It would take a little work to transfer her notes but it would be worth it. The sun was warm, and all her main objectives for the day were dealt with. She considered the future. I should go back to the Blue Dolphin and put my dagger out. But I think I can afford to take a short break. After all, I have been working for years to get here. I think I deserve a break. Ignoring most of the barkers vying for her attention, she thought maybe she should get a few extra supplies now that she had a safe place to store them. Always a good idea to be prepared for having to leave on short notice.

Her eyes were slightly dazzled by a flash of bright light and her ears started ringing from a sound not unlike a near thunderclap. Something hit her hard from behind, and her skin p.r.i.c.kled at the contact even through her leathers. That feels like the magic Sula made me use. She was pushed forward with considerable force and her feet automatically shuffled, keeping her balanced. Her heart started racing as the memory of the previous evening's sneak attack made a pit in her stomach. She dropped her pack as she executed an about face into a battle-ready crouch, with knives in a defensive position.

Dagger in one hand and a knife in the other, she took in what had hit her. Instead of the expected opponent she was looking at the back of skinny, medium-height man. He was himself just finishing turning around, looking away from her. His cloak was smoking slightly from whatever had happened to his back. Must have been blown into me, but by who or what?

Lowering herself slightly and stepping an inch to the right, remaining ready for a fight, she was able to see past the man who had run into her. Fifteen feet away and closing was a Knife, or at least someone who really wanted to make that impression. Except this Knife was using an ebony rod, which he pointed threateningly at the other man. Looking at the singed cloak in front of her again, she thought, This guy must be a wizard, to have withstood a surprise magical attack. That feeling when he touched me must have been his shielding. My Lady! This is an a.s.sa.s.sination attempt against a wizard in the middle of the market. Who would dare try this?

Nearby people began to react to the events, most bolting away screaming. The few remaining that were watching the events like a busker act changed their minds and ran too when lightning leaped from the rod, striking the wizard. The wizard was pushed further back and Ticca deftly stepped backwards with the motion to keep a workable distance between them. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and her heart started racing from being in the line of fire. This is not a good place to be. Looking around, she saw there was no cover other than tents. Those tents aren't going to stop a missed shot. Maybe staying behind this wizard isn't such a bad spot; he's holding up to the abuse pretty well. The Knife was also impressed, and actually looked mad. More than you bargained for, I bet. Now for the execution everyone always says happens when wizards are crossed.

The wizard slowly, almost arrogantly, lifted his hands. The Knife's eyes showed a touch of fear. The Knife tried to move, shouting, "d.a.m.n it!" In a last desperate effort he threw his knife at the wizard. But he wasn't fast enough. Nice try, but I doubt anyone can move fast enough. Throwing stuff at wizards just makes them madder.

As expected, an over-the-top reaction came, in the form of a blaze of orange and red lights from the wizard's hands. The wizard's right hand had targeted the center of the Knife's chest, and his left the rod. In an amazing burst of blue fire the rod exploded as the Knife was engulfed, screaming, in red flames. The exploding rod blew the right hand and forearm away, leaving a stump of an arm. Small bits of meat and blood rained on the stall fronts. Ticca's stomach threatened to eject the recent meal and she had to swallow hard to stifle the sick feeling the slapping meat sounds gave her. She wanted to stop watching but the scene was too amazing. She held her mouth tightly closed, resisting the gagging sensations as the Knife fell to his knees screaming before melting into a charred pile roughly resembling a man.

My Lady, I hope I never have to fight a wizard! This is unbelievable, and it happened before my very eyes. She was totally unprepared, staring at the charred pile, when the wizard fell backwards, the thrown knife protruding from his chest with blood running out of the wound over his clothing to the ground. The wizard's arms and chest were also badly blackened and smoking. Is he dead too?

"Lebuin! Lord, no! Lebuin!" An older man ran to the wizard, kneeling and picking up the wizard's head. Shouting, "Guards! Anyone, help! Please Lord, we cannot let him die!" the man looked around pleadingly at the empty area, his eyes falling on her. Eyes filled with tears, he looked at the dagger in her hand then at her. She hadn't moved, and was still in a fighting posture. "Dagger? Are you a Dagger?!"

Straightening up, she sheathed her knives automatically. Stepping up to the fallen wizard, she answered, "Yes."

"Are you under coin? Name your price, he can pay, please help!"

Looking around, she saw there was no one else even remotely close. People milled at the edge of the scene, many others were beginning to gather to find the source of the commotion. Temple Street is not far. She looked at the wizard again. Lady, is he thin; I bet my saddle gear weighs more than him. Looking at the older man again, she realized he was about to grab the knife sticking out of the wizards chest. Ticca snapped her hand around his wrist, pulling it away from the knife. "Don't be a fool. If you pull that now there is no chance he'll live. I accept the terms." Pointing at her pack, she added, "You bring that and don't fall too far behind."

Squatting down, she carefully lifted the wizard into her arms. She stood and measured his weight; he was almost as light as he looked. I can do this. For his life I have to do this. Lady, lend me some strength. She ran full speed for Temple Street, screaming oaths at anyone in her way, effectively clearing a path and giving her precious oxygen.

Exiting the market directly onto Temple Street, she continued screaming, drawing as much attention as she could. Most people turned and watched, and anyone in her way quickly stepped aside. The wizard felt like he was getting heavier. OK, he weighs more than my gear, but not by much. Sweat was running freely down her face and back and her breathing became harder. Her muscles complained making her very glad the Temple of Dalpha was the second temple on the street and that the hospice entrance was on the market side. Taking the wide steps two at a time she screamed for help as she barreled into the main room. Two acolytes jumped at the sound and pointed at an empty cot and rushed to meet her there.

Laying the wizard on the cot, she stepped aside and leaned against the wall, breathing hard. One of the acolytes ran out, while the other began examining the wizard, careful of the protruding knife. Ticca watched and decided it might be good to let them know what he was. Trying to keep her breath under control, she managed to get out, "He's a wizard; he was attacked, in the market."

The acolyte nodded and looked at the doorway the other acolyte had gone through. A tall man in rich robes hurriedly entered with the other acolyte. The acolyte went back to caring for others while the tall man came directly to the wizard's bed. Ticca listened as the two men spoke in the unfathomable medical jargon these types favored. Good Lady, how many possible treatments can there be, the man is bleeding to death. Looking at him, she noted that the blood didn't smear or soak into his clothes but instead pooled or ran off it, staining the bed. The older man who'd hired her finally came running into the room with her pack. She waved and he came over, trying to breathe himself.

After what felt like a full mark but was only a minute at most of talking and prodding, the old man shook his head sadly and looked at her. "I am sorry, lady, there is little we can do. This is too grave a wound. I doubt if he'll even wake up."

The old man next to her snapped straight. "Surely you can heal him. This isn't a simple hospice. Please, you must save him," he pleaded.

The healer laid a hand on the old man's shoulder. "I am sorry; this wound is beyond our abilities. I will do all I can, but I doubt it will be enough."

The old man snapped. He pushed the healer's hand from his shoulder and bolted through the inner doorway, yelling, "Lady, save us! Lady, save us..."

The healer motioned for the acolyte, who was looking at him for guidance, to follow. The acolyte ran after the old man, calling out for him to stop. Turning back to Ticca, he shook his head. "Are you alright M'lady?"

She nodded, "I'm just the hired help to get him here to save him. What if he woke up? I have heard wizards can mend themselves?"

"Alas, very few can do so, and also I seriously doubt he'll ever wake again."

If he doesn't wake then I probably won't get paid. Not that it was really that big of a deal. She mulled over staying or not as the tall healer turned his attention back to the wizard.

Ticca watched curiously as he retrieved a basket filled with bandages and surgical tools. He then carefully cut open the wizards clothing around the knife before laying out a number of bottles on a small table brought by an acolyte. Taking a long, thin, hollow reed that had a bulb on one end, he squeezed the bulb, inserting the end of the reed into one of the smaller bottles. He then carefully inserted the tip into the wound next to the knife and squeezed. The wound began to bubble pink-white liquid mixed with blood. The healer then took a longer, flexible reed and pushed it carefully down the wizard's throat; quickly, the healer used another bulb to push fluid through the reed. The wizard coughed a little as the healer carefully pulled the reed back out.

Waiting for the coughing to stop, he checked the wizard and frowned deeper. The wound had stopped bubbling out the pink foam. Looking concerned, he took yet another small vial and moved to a position where he could pull the knife out and pour the contents of the vial on the wound at the same time. Just as he grabbed the knife a cry came from the doorway, "Healer Antis, STOP!"

Looking annoyed for a moment he turned, and seeing who had addressed him, he went a little white. The healer straightened and bowed his head, "Your will, Great Lady. I am doing all I can to save this man."

Curious, Ticca leaned around him to see the newcomer better. It was a n.o.ble lady, followed by several other acolytes. She was Ticca's height, with a round, pale face and long, thick, slightly curly black hair. She was in a long, forest-green robe, decorated with flowers and fruit hanging from the borders. She also wore a dark green mantle, drawn from behind, over her shoulders and up from behind her waist knotted in an X on her chest. Her arms were bare and muscular. On her forehead was a slim silver tiara with a fine oak tree for the center piece. Balanced in her hand sat an oversized, delicate-looking egg of gold, silver and gems. The egg was not solid; in fact she could easily see through it as it was a complex of gold and silver threads. As she strode up to the bed Ticca noticed that the device was actually an intricate sculpture with small leaves and vines. What was wondrous was that the device held a glowing yellow sphere of light that felt oddly warm and comforting, like lying out in the sun on a warm day.

The healer openly stared at the device. "Great Lady, you would gift this mage with Dalpha's Light?"

The Lady smiled. "This man is a direct servant of Lord Argos." Looking back at the doorway, she added, "I was told of his need, asked to a.s.sist, and personally deem this a righteous act of charity."

Ticca glanced at the doorway and straightened up at the hint of a green skirt, cream-colored blouse and auburn hair slipping quickly back through it. Was that Sula?

Stepping out from behind the Great Lady, the older man who had cried for help looked worriedly at the wizard. Taking note of the gesture, the Great Lady turned her attention to the wizard as well. "Yes, well, you have done an admirable job so far. Let us finish this together; I need a.s.sistance." The five acolytes with her moved to positions around the bed. She moved to stand next to the wizard on his right, leaving the healer where he was. Everyone but the healer knelt; Ticca, deciding it was best to not look out of place, also knelt.

The older man stepped up. "May I a.s.sist?"

The Great Lady smiled. "Any servant of Lord Argos is welcome. Kneel at his head, hold it steady and offer up any prayer you may have." The old man took his position as instructed.

Then the Lady held the glowing egg over the center of the wizard's chest and began to vocalize, a pure beautiful melody of sounds. All the acolytes present knelt and joined in. The glowing light grew brighter and brighter until Ticca had to look down. The warmth of the light was wonderful to feel, and Ticca felt uplifted and joyful at the sounds of the chant, the warmth of the light, and even the light's intensity.

When the light became too much to bear she closed her eyes and felt a presence growing closer.

The sun was full in her face, its warmth comfortably baking her. Sighing, she knew she should finish the work, but it was so nice. From a short distance away the children were playing with a fox, their laughs like delicate silver bells ringing joyfully through the glen. Sitting up, she opened her eyes. Before her, the boots had not miraculously finished themselves. The low table was organized with her leather tools and materials. I really should finish those boots for him. Then of course I'll have to get him to wear them. Laughing at the absurd look she knew she'd get for suggesting he discard his favorite boots, she picked up the almost completed journal.

Marks flowed by as she wove the materials together into another fine journal. She enjoyed the comfortable feeling the energies of her people and the world gave her as she worked. The energies bound the woven paper, leather and resin glues into a single whole object. She smiled as she carved the intricate looping knot patterns into the covers. Finally, she held the completed journal up and inspected it in the late afternoon sun. A beautiful work; it will make an excellent gift for our guest.

Taking the journal with her, she left the unfinished boots for another day and moved through the forest village to the gathering place. Laughter, music, and talk could be heard long before getting to the feast. The tables were set out in the open with large fires at each end. The smell of roasting vegetables and meats made her mouth water. Naturally the Shar family had brought significant amounts of sharre to the feast, and it was being enjoyed by all. At the high table sat most of the family elders.

She took a place at the makers' table and enjoyed the evening's entertainments. Dancers, acrobats, and bards flowed throughout the evening as easily as the sharre and platters of food. As the feast went on she kept looking for her love but she could not find him, nor was he with the servers. He must be here someplace, how could he miss this? Then she noticed one of the masked acrobats dressed in flowing saffron silks and her heart told her it had to be him. She clapped and yelled support as his troupe performed amazing feats with ropes, knives and balancing. At the climax she laughed as he showed off performing the difficult knife dance of the firebirds with his silk costume streaming in intricate patterns. She even gasped with everyone else when he ended it with a mighty show of knives and torches spinning so fast that the mirrored edges flashed like the stars in a wind storm of fire and silk. He ended it by throwing all six knives high in the air and letting them come down blade first around him as he bowed. The knives pa.s.sed his head and arms close enough to flutter the silk sleeves and his long hair. He remained looking down until the last knife had pa.s.sed, embedding itself at the end of the neat row of hilts at his feet. She blushed when he winked at her as he exited.

As the evening wore on it came time to present her gift. She stood and made her way to the high table. Giving appropriate nods to the heads of the families, she stepped up in front of the great mage. He looked to be about middle-aged, for a human, though she knew that he had been coming to their forest for more years than most humans could hope to live. He looked at her and laughed his deep, full-bodied laugh. "My word! Can this be Kliasa, who bounced on my knee and wouldn't let me stop?"

She blushed and bowed appropriately. "Great Lord Magus Vestul of Argos, you do me honor to remember me. I have made this for your honor and for my family's thanks to you for helping end the war and save our forests." Placing the journal on the table, she bowed again.

The great mage actually looked slightly embarra.s.sed by the act and his eyes showed a hint of tears. Magus Vestul reached out and picked up the journal and inspected it as she awaited his word. He carefully inspected the binding, cover, materials and then he noted the engraving of Lord Argos's seal on the front. His hands almost lovingly traced the patterns. "This is a wondrous work! I am most pleased with this gift. In fact I declare this to be my most prized gift of the feast. I shall use this only for the most important of research and notes, and will treasure it for all my life. Thank you Kliasa, daughter of House Elaeus." He stood and put the journal in his pouch of fine leather with the silver disk clasp. "It fits perfectly." Smiling, he reached out. "May I have the honor of the Moon's Dance with you?"

Glancing right, the matriarch looked like she was so proud she would burst. The matriarch nodded affirmative and she bowed again and accepted. The Magus was amazingly graceful as he danced the Moon's Dance with her. At the end he gave her a fatherly embrace and whispered in her ear, "I think someone is awaiting the next dance." Winking, he motioned with his head to his left. Looking the way he motioned she saw her love smiling and clapping to the music but his violet eyes were following her every move.

She walked with the great Magus, who limped slightly, back to the head table. She looked at him for a moment and he waved his hand. "Don't worry, it is just that my feet are killing me! These shoes are just too tight." Kliasa smiled to herself. I'll fix that on your next visit. Bowing a farewell, she said, "Thank you for honoring us, Great Lord Magus Vestul of Argos." He smiled and she turned back to the dance circle, looking for her love. He was there waiting, he had changed back into simple green leggings and the horrible boots. I really need to finish those boots for him. Maybe I can steal those ugly worn things when he is asleep. I bet his grandmother would help me. She approached him and he bowed deeply. "You do me honor to allow me to follow our Great Lord Magus."

Smiling, she took his hand and he pulled her suddenly very close. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine as he said softly in her ear, "Your gift really was magnificent, it must be your finest work ever."

She closed her eyes and let the exhilaration of pride lift her to the heights as her heart pounded thunderously in her ears and his breath warmed her soul.

A soft musical voice came to her. "You may stand." Ticca opened her eyes, her heart still racing. She looked around, confused for a second. This is Dalpha's Temple. Something just happened. I was dreaming again. A couple of acolytes were cleaning blood from the floor, two others were helping the healer who looked like he was drunk or about to pa.s.s out towards the inner door, the old man was still kneeling at the wizard's head obviously praying, and standing next to her was the Great Lady of Dalpha herself with four other acolytes in attendance. She held the golden forest egg, which still glowed with an oddly warming soft, white light.

Ticca stood up a little shakily. What happened? Did I pa.s.s out? Looking at the wizard she saw there was a scar in his chest where the knife and once been, and his chest was rising and falling normally. He looked like someone who was just taking an afternoon nap, if it wasn't for all the blood that surrounded him on the bed and floor. "I'm sorry Great Lady, I didn't mean to be inattentive."

Smiling, the tall woman looked her over fully, stopping for a moment at the dagger hanging on the front of her belt. "You are a Dagger. Are you employed by Journeyman Lebuin?"

"Actually by his servant I think. I am not exactly sure at the moment. Things moved a little fast."

Nodding knowingly the Great Lady placed a hand on Ticca's shoulder. "You are touched by Lady Dalpha and Lord Argos. I believe greatness awaits you...?"

"Ticca of Rhini Wood."