It was a girl, not a woman. That was the first realization. This was a girl about her own age. She was clothed in shimmery silks of an opalescent green, and she moved with studious grace, practicing the kind of movement Shana had always thought was natural.

Her hostess was flower-sculpting-a term Shana plucked out of the girl's memory. Not arranging-that was different, and something the girl left up to her slaves. The girl- She knew knew , with the certainty of her own name, that of the elven maiden. , with the certainty of her own name, that of the elven maiden. Sheyrena an Treves Sheyrena an Treves . .

Sheyrena, then-was delicately shaping the petals of the living flower before her. She spun them out, her magic delicately rearranging the form, and making the petals thinner, turning them into gossamer webs of color. She had finished two of the four petals of what had been an ordinary poppy. Now it looked as if it had been made of silk; transparent, crimson silk, that billowed about the dark heart in carefully arranged folds. She finished the third petal even as Shana watched, and began on the fourth.

Shana took careful notes. She'd had no idea anything like this was possible. And it was absurdly simple as well. Already she had several ideas on how else else she could use this particular spell of manipulation. she could use this particular spell of manipulation.

When the girl had finished, she turned to her mother, her face carefully schooled into a calm mask, for approval. No elven lady should ever be seen as less than perfect, and perfectly controlled No elven lady should ever be seen as less than perfect, and perfectly controlled . Shana caught . Shana caught that that thought as the girl smoothed the hope from her expression. thought as the girl smoothed the hope from her expression.

Poor thing... For a moment, Shana actually pitied the girl.

"Very good, dear," Viridina an Treves said, nodding her head slowly and graciously. Her expression was that mask of perfect serenity her daughter strove to imitate. The rest of her was just as flawless. Viridina wore her silver gown with a complete unconcern that made it seem a part of her. The elven lady's pale gold hair was arranged in an artfully careless fall over one ear, no less a sculpted work of art than the flower her daughter had just transformed, and yet showing no sign of how much time had gone into its creation.

Her daughter permitted herself a smile of acknowledgment of her mother's compliment. Viridina responded with an answering smile of approval for her daughter.

Her very young young daughter; Shana realized with a start that she had made a mistake in her a.s.sessment. The mind she had touched was that of a child no more than ten or twelve. The child had daughter; Shana realized with a start that she had made a mistake in her a.s.sessment. The mind she had touched was that of a child no more than ten or twelve. The child had power power -that was what had deceived her- -that was what had deceived her- No, that wasn't it at all. The child had control. Very little power, really; what she had was total control over all the power she possessed. And all it would ever be good for was to manipulate tiny things- Her spells would always be minor ones, like flower-sculpting, or water-weaving, or light-arranging-Shana saw that in her memories of her lessons and what her mother could do. Her father could do more; he was quite adept at illusions. But all Viridina and her daughter could use their their insignificant power for was the kind of spells that were decorative- insignificant power for was the kind of spells that were decorative- Or stopping someone's heart, Shana's mind whispered eagerly, at this hint that the girl thought of herself as something less than the males of her kind. Little things weren't necessarily minor. Tell her. Show her.

She shook off the temptation. Even if she thought of herself as inferior, she was still of elven blood; she was still one of the masters. If the girl had been a human, though, and otherwise helpless- But something she had not consciously noted alerted that other part of her mind. Wasn't she helpless, as helpless as the slaves? Look at the mother's face-and into the mother's mind!

Unable to resist the temptation, Shana did so, and saw the real state of most of the ladies of the elven Clans.

They were pampered-as a prize brood-mare was pampered. Protected-as a valuable gem. Allowed no choice of fates, any more than a slave was. Allowed no freedom at all until a child was conceived and carried to live birth...

The future that awaited this girl was as bleak as a slave's. A loveless mating to someone who valued her only for her potential power, the dower she brought from her father, the alliance she represented, and the heirs she might breed. A life spent in the confines of the "bower," the women's quarters, with nothing of any importance to do. Ladies were not expected to exert themselves, and few did. Most whiled away the long hours with music, flower-sculpting or playing other similarly mindless games.

This was the life the girl's mother had endured for the past four hundred years-with no end in sight. An endless pastel existence, close-confined, safe- Shana shuddered, and withdrew a little.

The girl picked up another flower, and began on it; a wild rose, this time. She touched the first petal, spinning it out into a thin mist of palest pink.

Shana couldn't bear it any longer. Well, why shouldn't she at least-suggest what she could do. Where was the harm in that? She might need it someday. If she had the courage to use the information... Why not? If the girl doesn't use it, no harm; if she does-someone will get what he deserves. She would just hint at the possibilities.

A kind of reckless intoxication impelled her to do just that, hiding the suggestion deep in the girl's mind- If you can change a flower petal, what else can you change If you can change a flower petal, what else can you change?- The girl didn't seem to notice that anything had happened. Certainly her mother didn't. They continued to make their artistic little flowers, placing them carefully in a studied arrangement for tonight's banquet, for magically formed flowers were too important and delicate to be entrusted to slaves. When Lord Treves's guests saw these, and knew the powers of the daughter, there might be marriage proposals...

Shana couldn't take anymore. She withdrew her mind completely and let herself drift back to the safety of the Citadel before anyone detected her meddling.

She centered herself; woke herself carefully from trance, speeding her heartbeat, letting the blood flow freely through her veins.

As she opened her eyes again, she realized what it was that drove the dragons to shift their shapes and take the forms of men and elves. It was a different kind of power- And it was a heady experience. And addictive...

With time, she became more and more adept at reading the minds of distant elven lords and their ladies. The human minds, of course, remained closed to her, because of the collars the human slaves wore.

Those collars could, and did, function in a way that kept prying thoughts out as well as developing mind-powers locked within. But the elven lords were wide open to her questing mind, and she took full advantage of the fact. Shana came to know all of the neighbors bordering the wild lands that held the Citadel.

She also came to learn more of what she could do with magic; power did not have to be overwhelming to be effective-something as "simple" as the elven maid's flower-sculpting ability could be as devastatingly effective as calling lightning.

And a lot less draining.

As spring approached, she took to spending all her free time "watching" through the eyes of others, mostly elves, even as she had spent all her time last fall in roaming the corridors of the Citadel. Her goal was the same: knowledge. Now she knew pretty much what the old wizards could do, and she was on her way to duplicating a number of those powers. What she didn't know was what elven lords were capable of. She wanted-no, needed needed ,-to know, both to know what she might have to counter one day, and to determine what she might be able to duplicate herself. And here were teachers, all the teachers she could ask for. She began learning by observation. ,-to know, both to know what she might have to counter one day, and to determine what she might be able to duplicate herself. And here were teachers, all the teachers she could ask for. She began learning by observation.

Not even the senior wizards knew some of the tricks she was picking up from the elven mages-or if they did, they hadn't shown any of them to their pupils. And fully as important as magic-at least to Shana's mind-she was learning how the elven lords thought.

Which turned out to be a great deal like the way the senior wizards thought...

Shana told herself to be patient; she she was the only member of the group accustomed to thinking of gems in terms of being power-sources. Blond, s.h.a.ggy-headed Kyle frowned, and stared at the carnelian in his hand. She "heard" him fumbling around, trying to use the stone, and getting nowhere, as if he were trying to cut wood with a hammer. was the only member of the group accustomed to thinking of gems in terms of being power-sources. Blond, s.h.a.ggy-headed Kyle frowned, and stared at the carnelian in his hand. She "heard" him fumbling around, trying to use the stone, and getting nowhere, as if he were trying to cut wood with a hammer.

He looked up at her, and shook the hair out of his eyes. "But what if I'm not getting any more power with this thing?" he asked petulantly.

Shana sighed, and dark Elly rolled her eyes and shrugged. Elly, several years younger than Kyle, had already mastered the basics, and was working on finesse.

Shana decided to let her her explain. Maybe he'd pay attention to someone he knew. "Lens-shaped stones explain. Maybe he'd pay attention to someone he knew. "Lens-shaped stones focus focus , Kyle," Elly said slowly and carefully. "It's the , Kyle," Elly said slowly and carefully. "It's the crystals crystals that increase power. You're using a cabochon-cut stone; you could push from now'till next spring and still have the same amount of power going in as coming out of there. That stone is going to concentrate the power to a little point-" that increase power. You're using a cabochon-cut stone; you could push from now'till next spring and still have the same amount of power going in as coming out of there. That stone is going to concentrate the power to a little point-"

Someone pounded on the wooden door of the room Shana and her little circle were using as a meeting place. All conversation stopped dead, and Shana started guiltily; and she wasn't the only one to jump. Not that they were doing anything wrong wrong , but none of the senior wizards actually knew anything about these meetings. They weren't forbidden-but if the senior wizards knew about them, they , but none of the senior wizards actually knew anything about these meetings. They weren't forbidden-but if the senior wizards knew about them, they might might be. be.

Operating on the principle that what the authorities didn't know about, they couldn't forbid, Shana had taken great care to see that they didn't learn about the lessons in the first place. She didn't see any reason why she should share the new knowledge she had been gaining with people who weren't going to use it-or at least, weren't going to use it for anything useful. .

So the meetings were held in one of the empty rooms in the maze of corridors winding deeply into the living rock of the Citadel. And the only people who knew which room it was were her fellow apprentices-and Zed.

"Shana!" It was Zed's voice, m.u.f.fled by the door, but recognizable. "Shana, it's me! I've got something to tell you! It's important!"

Shana jumped to her feet and hurled the door open quickly. Zed slipped inside as soon as she had it open a crack, and shut it behind him. "Listen," he said, looking around at all of them with a peculiarly intense expression on his face. "Do you people really intend to start doing doing something about what's going on out there, instead of sitting on your thumbs? Or are you all talk and no action?" something about what's going on out there, instead of sitting on your thumbs? Or are you all talk and no action?"

"Why?" Shana demanded, a stir of excitement and antic.i.p.ation p.r.i.c.kling the back of her neck.

"Because I just found out that one of Lord Treves's overseers is going to cull about a dozen kids, that's why," Zed said, anger creeping into his voice, a fleeting expression of outrage moving across his face like a shadow. "And the mud-clods in charge around here won't do one d.a.m.n thing to stop them!"

Kyle blanched; he'd very nearly been "culled" himself, and only escaped when his mother smuggled him out and left him in the woods. "W-why not?" he stammered. "Th-they've intervened on Treves's land before! Wh-what's stopping them?"

Zed leaned back against the door, and crossed his arms, all trace of his earlier emotion gone, as if it had never been. "Because," he drawled, "this time the kids are all full-human. They've got the human magic, that's why they're being culled. Master Parth doesn't see any reason to help mere humans, especially not when the overseers already have all the uncollared kids locked up, and we'd have to actually break them out."

"Master Parth is-not the only answer around here," Shana said flatly, cold anger settling just under her breastbone. "And yes, I'm I'm ready to do something." She looked around her, challenge in her gaze. "What about the rest of you?" ready to do something." She looked around her, challenge in her gaze. "What about the rest of you?"

"You can count me me in," Kyle said immediately, though he was still pale, and looked more than a little frightened. in," Kyle said immediately, though he was still pale, and looked more than a little frightened.

"And me," Elly added, an eye-blink after him.

There was no dissension, and no hesitation; the rest followed Shana's lead in agreeing to help within a heartbeat of one another.

"Fine," Zed said with satisfaction and approval. He pushed away from the door and joined them. The rest of the apprentices looked up at him expectantly. "Here's what's going to happen. The overseers don't actually know know which kids have the wizard-powers, so they rounded up every uncollared child in the area and they're going to be testing them tomorrow. I know who they are, and the kids all know who they are. And if we work fast, and together, we should be able to get them out of the pen before the overseers find out which ones are the kids they really want. So, first off, have any of you ever seen the holding pen at Treves's manor?" which kids have the wizard-powers, so they rounded up every uncollared child in the area and they're going to be testing them tomorrow. I know who they are, and the kids all know who they are. And if we work fast, and together, we should be able to get them out of the pen before the overseers find out which ones are the kids they really want. So, first off, have any of you ever seen the holding pen at Treves's manor?"

Kyle had, as Shana knew. Kyle had most certainly certainly seen it; he'd been seen it; he'd been in in it before he was taken by his mother to be left for the wizards to find. it before he was taken by his mother to be left for the wizards to find.

Kyle didn't hesitate; he grabbed a stick of charcoal and a bit of sc.r.a.p paper and began drawing a map for the others. Within moments they were huddled together over the drawing, proposing and discarding plans.

Shana turned back to Zed, to see that he was grinning from ear to ear.

"You planned planned this, didn't you?" she said accusingly, whispering so that the others wouldn't overhear. "You did-I know you did-" this, didn't you?" she said accusingly, whispering so that the others wouldn't overhear. "You did-I know you did-"

"Not this this , exactly," he admitted, "but I knew something like this would come up. I'm getting tired of Faith's att.i.tude about full-humans. I've , exactly," he admitted, "but I knew something like this would come up. I'm getting tired of Faith's att.i.tude about full-humans. I've been been tired of the way he won't interfere in any situation that looks the tiniest bit risky, and I've felt that way for a long time. And after I saw how you were shaping up, I was hoping you were going to put some spine into some of the 'prentices so we could have a group to work with. One or two couldn't make much difference-but a group this big can." tired of the way he won't interfere in any situation that looks the tiniest bit risky, and I've felt that way for a long time. And after I saw how you were shaping up, I was hoping you were going to put some spine into some of the 'prentices so we could have a group to work with. One or two couldn't make much difference-but a group this big can."

"I tried to put some spine into some of the masters," she said sourly, "but it didn't work."

Zed's only reply was a snort. Then he leaned over the shoulders of the huddled 'prentices, and studied Kyle's sketched map.

"All right-" he said, and they quieted down so quickly that Shana was consumed with envy. "This is what I'd do____"

The fire crackled, and scented candles burned all over the room, imparting a warm light no mage-made glow could duplicate. Parth Agon sipped his stolen wine, and frowned at the goblet. Not because of the bouquet of the wine- that thatwas fine. It was something else entirely that left a sour taste in his mouth.

The new 'prentice, Shana, to be precise.

He turned the goblet in his hands, watching the play of light over the matte metal surface without really seeing it. Shana was a problem, and was likely to become a greater one.

Somehow, some way, she had learned to shield her mind even from him him . Somehow she had acquired the power to keep that shielding intact against all of his efforts to penetrate it. That was cause enough for alarm. Parth had gotten and held his power by knowing . Somehow she had acquired the power to keep that shielding intact against all of his efforts to penetrate it. That was cause enough for alarm. Parth had gotten and held his power by knowing exactly exactly what the others were thinking at all times. Shana represented a disturbing blank spot in his knowledge. what the others were thinking at all times. Shana represented a disturbing blank spot in his knowledge.

Furthermore, she had begun teaching a carefully chosen circle of her peers how to accomplish exactly the same thing. The blank spot was spreading. He was not pleased. And that was by no means all...

She was a bad influence, he brooded, holding his goblet in both hands as he slumped in his chair. She was asking questions the masters would rather not answer-and that he would just as soon she didn't ask. Why the wizards were remaining in hiding, for instance; never interfering except when there was no chance they could be detected-and why they wouldn't aid humans, even those with wizard-powers of their own. She was implying that they were cowards, lazy, or both. She was encouraging the 'prentices to think about acting directly against the elves.

The 'prentices didn't like the answers they were getting from their masters. Or the lack of answers. And it was entirely possible they'd started to act on their own.

That thought led inevitably to another.

I'm losing control.

That was the worst thought of all; his hands tightened on the cool metal of the goblet as he gritted his teeth in carefully restrained anger. The candles flickered in a bit of draft.

She was working against him. But she was only a child-she couldn't be doing this on her own. So who was behind her her ? Who in the Citadel was teaching her these things? It wasn't Denelor... it couldn't be. That lazy fool couldn't have taught her ? Who in the Citadel was teaching her these things? It wasn't Denelor... it couldn't be. That lazy fool couldn't have taught her half of half of what she had learned this winter. what she had learned this winter.

But if it wasn't Denelor, then who was it?

He ran down the entire list of senior wizards in his mind, and couldn't find a connection between any of them and Shana. Half of them didn't even know she existed; they were lost in their little otherworlds of illusion, trance, and daydream. The other half didn't care care she existed. They played out their dance of control and power within the microcosm of the Citadel, and cared nothing for the outside world. And none of them would have been willing to risk putting their precious safety in the hands of these reckless children, if they'd known what their 'prentices were up to. she existed. They played out their dance of control and power within the microcosm of the Citadel, and cared nothing for the outside world. And none of them would have been willing to risk putting their precious safety in the hands of these reckless children, if they'd known what their 'prentices were up to.

But dealing with them-which really meant dealing with their ringleader, Shana-presented something of a problem. She hadn't actually done done anything yet, and neither had they. Parth couldn't prove that she was even thinking of it, and even if he could, thinking was no crime. Until they made an overt action that truly, demonstrably, endangered the Citadel, he could only watch her. anything yet, and neither had they. Parth couldn't prove that she was even thinking of it, and even if he could, thinking was no crime. Until they made an overt action that truly, demonstrably, endangered the Citadel, he could only watch her.

And even if he caught her at something-aiding halfbloods to escape to the Citadel without her master's permission, for instance-there were still limits to the punishments he could or dared impose on her.

He couldn't expel her from the Citadel; the elven lords would catch her before very long. And as soon as they questioned her, the elves would know about the halfbloods.

He wished pa.s.sionately that it was Shana's neck between his hands, rather than the goblet. He would give so much to be able to strangle the baggage... which he couldn't do even if he caught her red-handed. There were laws about that, laid down because of what had divided the wizards at the end of the war. If If she were caught and she were caught and If If the entire populace of the Citadel found her guilty of acting against the Citadel, the worst that could be done to her would be to send her into the desert, back where she came from. the entire populace of the Citadel found her guilty of acting against the Citadel, the worst that could be done to her would be to send her into the desert, back where she came from.

He couldn't "dispose" of her either; she hadn't actually done done anything, and the others would certainly take exception to his taking the law into his own hands on a mere supposition. anything, and the others would certainly take exception to his taking the law into his own hands on a mere supposition.

I wish I knew what she wanted wish I knew what she wanted . .

I wish I knew who was behind her!

He had never been so frustrated in his life. From the time he had reached the Citadel and became the protected protege of the most senior wizard of the time, to this moment, his life had been one smooth climb to the high seats of power. No one had ever thwarted him before. No one had ever challenged challenged him before. He was not enjoying the experience. him before. He was not enjoying the experience.

He sat, slumped over in his chair, for the remainder of the afternoon, trying to think of some way he could either dispose of the girl or control her, and coming up with nothing. The candles guttered down to the sockets, and his own 'prentice- not notone of the young rebels-came in to replace them, and still he was unable to think of an answer to the problem.

Finally he was forced to conclude that he was going to have to leave her alone. He set the empty goblet down on the little table beside his chair, and sat up a bit straighter, trying to divorce himself from the emotions that raised in him. He stroked his beard with one hand, forcing himself to accept that solution.

He decided, slowly, to leave her alone. Unless she brought the elves' attention down on the halfbloods. Then he could move against her.

He nodded to himself, and refilled the goblet, taking it up again. Oddly enough, the conclusion was not as hard to take as he'd thought it would be. It was not an end; it was merely a delay. The girl was was reckless; she took wild chances. With luck, one of those risks would catch up with her. reckless; she took wild chances. With luck, one of those risks would catch up with her.

And then- she's mine she's mine.

With a creak of tortured metal, the stem of the goblet bent double beneath the pressure of his tightening fingers. Parth Agon did not notice.

"Dear Ancestors, I'm bored," Valyn said, flinging down his book on the cushion of the window seat, and staring out at the gloomy, dark pine woods beyond his window. Cheynar's manor was unlike any Valyn had ever seen before; it had none of the glowing ceiling lights that most of the elven-made buildings he'd been in boasted. Instead, illumination was supplied by day with natural light, through skylights and windows. And at night, Valyn either had to glow his own magic-lights, or make do with lanterns and candles. Magic was clearly at a premium on this this estate. estate.

And yet, Cheynar was considered a power to be reckoned with among Dyran's allies and underlings.

Today Valyn was considering lighting a glow even though it was not much past noon. The sky outside was a flat, dark, slate-gray. Rain dripped down through the branches, and more rain misted the air between the window and the trees.

Shadow sneezed, and rubbed his nose. "I thought you were supposed to be learning something from Lord Cheynar," he observed with a sniff. "But all we've done since you got here is sit around this suite or go out riding in the rain." Shadow sniffed again.

"Riding in the rain, and catching colds," Valyn replied, immediately guilty. "Sorry, Shadow. That cold of yours is my my fault. We shouldn't have gone out yesterday. I didn't mean to act like a spoiled brat about the riding, but I just couldn't stand being inside one moment more-" fault. We shouldn't have gone out yesterday. I didn't mean to act like a spoiled brat about the riding, but I just couldn't stand being inside one moment more-"

"I know, I know-" Shadow blew his nose, and took a long drink of hot tea. "And it's not your fault elves don't catch colds. I just wish I shared that immunity."

Valyn shrugged apologetically. "I wish I could cure it." He looked back outside; the gloomy woods had not changed a fraction. "I wish we had something to do. Anything."

"I guess we should both be just as glad Lord Cheynar hasn't been paying much attention to us," Shadow observed, as he joined Valyn in the window seat. "It surely makes it a lot easier to stay out of his way."

Valyn glanced at his cousin out of the corner of his eye. Shadow had bounced back from his beating so fast even Valyn was impressed, though he seemed much quieter than usual. But perhaps that was only because of the cold.

Shadow folded his arms on the window ledge and rested his chin on them, watching the wet pines as if he found them completely fascinating. "On the whole," he drawled, "I think I'll take bored. It's much much better than having Lord Cheynar's overseers asking me pointed questions about my background." better than having Lord Cheynar's overseers asking me pointed questions about my background."

Valyn gave himself a mental kick for being such a donkey. Of course being bored was better than being noticed! Even a fool would have been able to figure that that out! As long as he and Shadow were left to their own devices, there was very little chance that Lord Cheynar would check back with Dyran and possibly let slip the description of Valyn's "bodyguard." And there was no chance that Shadow would find himself being interrogated by Cheynar's men. out! As long as he and Shadow were left to their own devices, there was very little chance that Lord Cheynar would check back with Dyran and possibly let slip the description of Valyn's "bodyguard." And there was no chance that Shadow would find himself being interrogated by Cheynar's men.

When they first arrived, Cheynar had received Valyn in his office, with the same cold courtesy Valyn fancied he used with his underlings. He had taken a scant moment to glance at the sealed letter from Lord Dyran that Valyn presented to him, then thrown the packet on a corner of his desk, and leaned over the broad expanse of cherry-wood to pin Valyn in his chair with his dagger-keen glare.

"I want one thing understood, young Valyn," he'd said, his voice completely without expression. "You're on my my estate now, not your father's. You will follow estate now, not your father's. You will follow my my orders. Is that perfectly clear?" orders. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Yes, my lord," Valyn had murmured, in his most submissive tone. Cheynar had sat back in his seat with a fleeting expression of satisfaction.

"In that case, we'll get along just fine," Cheynar stated flatly. "Right now, I am sorry I simply don't have time to see to your amus.e.m.e.nt, but something has come up that requires all of my attention. I shouldn't have taken the time to meet with you myself, but I wanted to make certain that you understood how things are here. Do you?"

"Entirely, my lord," Valyn had replied, looking down at his clasped hands.

"Good." Valyn looked up at the sc.r.a.pe of wood on stone. Cheynar stood, obviously impatient for him to be gone. "There's a slave just outside the door, he'll show you your quarters. I'm sure they'll be satisfactory."

And without waiting for a reply, Cheynar had turned and walked away, leaving Valyn to stare after him, a bit stunned.

Since that time he had not once set eyes on the Lord of the estate. He had been left to amuse himself however he wished. More than once, he had decided that Cheynar's dour manner was due entirely to the estate itself. Bordering the wilderlands, the manor was surrounded on three sides by tall, greenish-black pine trees with thick, drooping branches that blocked the sun for most of the day, and were home to what seemed like hundreds of owls at night. And for some reason, at least since Valyn arrived here, it had rained at least part of every single day.

There was no hunting to speak of, except for Valyn's accipiter hawks, who were nasty-tempered enough to fling themselves into the thickest of underbrush after prey. But the hawks were not willing to fly in weather this foul, and after having one goshawk turn on him in frustration at having missed a kill, Valyn was not inclined to press his luck with them. The gos missed his face by a breath with those wicked talons, and only Shadow's Intervention had gotten the hawk calmed.