Dain bared his teeth. "The pendant is mine. I want it back." "Why?" Sulein asked him. "So you can run away from Thirst for good? You had to return today, of course, for your property. You were foolish to forget it the first time, but then your temper is fierce, I think."

"I did not run away," Dain said angrily. "If you are as wise as you claim you would know this."

"Don't be impertinent," Sulein replied. He placed the bard crystal back in his strongbox and closed the lid.

Dain reached out, but Sulein carried the box across the room and placed it on a shelf alongside numerous bottles and small clay pots. "No," he said, dusting off his long slender hands and returning. "Let us sit and have our talk."

Dain scowled, p.r.i.c.kling with unease, and swung away from him. "What do you want in exchange for my property? I have no secrets to share." "Oh, but you do. You are a treasure trove walking among us."

Sulein smiled. His dark eyes shone through the gloom. "What do you fear, boy? Why will you not answer my questions?"

"I have no knowledge of the dark ways," Dain answered. "I can tell you nothing about them."

Sulein laughed, throwing back his head so far it was strange that his conical hat did not fall off. "Ah, so that is it! I do not seek ways of the darkness or the forbidden. This do I a.s.sure you, boy. Have you never studied?" "Studied what?" Dain asked suspiciously. Sulein seated himself on a stool. He gestured for Dain to do the same, but Dain remained standing, ready to run for the door if he had to. "Studied knowledge, for its own sake," Sulein replied, lighting several candles.

Their flickering glow reduced the gloom, driving back the shadows. The room was cluttered as always, filled with stacks of old scrolls that looked so brittle with age they would probably have crumbled to dust if anyone tried to unroll them. A dead vixlet, embalmed and mounted, snarled at Dain from atop the shelves. Its eyes, made of colored gla.s.s, reflected the candlelight in an eerie fashion, almost as though the thing were possessed. "Can you read, Dain?" Sulein asked.

"Of course."

Sulein picked up a sc.r.a.p of parchment and held it out. When Dain kept his distance, Sulein rattled it impatiently.

"Oh, come, come, boy, what have you to fear? Take the paper and tell me what it says."

Dain stepped closer reluctantly and saw small, strange characters drawn across the page. Anger flared inside him. "Another game!" he said impatiently. "I have no time for this. Give me my bard crystal!"

"No, Dain," Sulein replied softly, his tone quite firm. "Not without Lord Odfrey's order."

"Then I have other things to do." Turning about, Dain headed for the door. "You lived among the dwarves," Sulein said after him. "Presumably you learned to read and write in runes."

Dain glanced back. "I have orders to report to Lord Odfrey. I cannot dally here, talking of runes and such."

"Lord Odfrey is busy with what has transpired during your absence. I believe he is praying in the chapel now for the souls of the men who died in this day's battle."

Some of Dain's annoyance faded into concern. Some of those dead knights were surely men he'd liked.

He wanted to know their names, and yet he dreaded finding out.

"There is a little time," Sulein said. "You know this, or you would not have come here on your way to his lordship."

Dain frowned, but Sulein was right. "Are there many dead?" he asked.

"Since when do you care about the fate of Mandrian serfs?"

Dain's frown deepened. "I meant, are there many dead among the knights?"

"You care for them, then? As comrades?"

"Of course!" Dain said hotly. "What do you think of me? Why does everyone think I had something to do with-" "You have changed while living here among us," Sulein said. "You have begun to think more like a Mandrian and less like a dwarf."

"I am neither," Dain said flatly. "That is correct. Were you born in Nether?" Sulein asked.

The sudden change of subject threw Dain for a moment. "I know not."

"Krogni da vletsna ryakilvn yla meratskya. Do you understand those words?"

Sulein asked.

"No," Dain said, but uneasily. Though the words meant nothing, their cadence had a familiar rhythm and lilt. Thia used to sing a child's song of nonsense words. She taught him to sing it too, but neither of them knew what the words meant. That little song was similar to what Sulein said. Dain felt cold inside.

"Never go into Nether" Jorb had warned him and Thia most solemnly. "Seek not the eldin who live there."

"Did Jorb your guardian ever speak to you in Netheran?" Sulein asked.

"No."

"Did he tell you where you came from?"

"I am eld," Dain said harshly. "That is enough to know." "You are highborn, and you know it," Sulein persisted. "Are you afraid to accept this? Why? It is to your advantage to be educated, to know how to read and write in more than one language. To have knowledge of cla.s.sical learning so that you can converse with others of your station."

"Station?" Dain repeated. "I have no station except beggar! I am fostered here on charity, with the superst.i.tions of Lord Odfrey to thank. That is all I am." "Nether has been missing its rightful king for sixteen years," Sulein said. "King Muncel rules there, and it is Gant he allies himself with now, not Mandria. It is said that King Tobeszijian is surely dead, but that his son, the rightful heir to Nether's throne, lives hidden in exile."

"What do I care about Nether?" Dain said impatiently.

"Save that many eldin live there-or used to, before King Muncel drove them out." Sulein leaned forward, his eyes boring into Dain. "The rightful heir's name is Faldain."

He seemed to be waiting for something. Expectancy hung on him like a cloak. Dain laughed incredulously. "You jest, surely. Or do you think me a knave stupid enough to believe such nonsense?"

"It is not nonsense," Sulein said. "This is most important. You could be the missing prince."

"I am not," Dain said. "My name is not-"

"Dain and Faldain are names almost identical," Sulein said eagerly. "You are the correct age."

Dain stared at him with pity. What foolishness was this? "Dain is a common suffix to many eldin names,"

he said. "Faldain, Sordain, Landain, Cueldain ... What of that? Oh, you paint a pretty dream. I would love to be a king, with a great treasure in my storehouse and the life of a fable, but I am simply an eld, orphaned and without family. I must live where I can, and keep myself alive." "You wear king's gla.s.s,"

Sulein said, but his voice had dropped to a whisper. Dain sensed how desperately the man wanted his idea to be true. For an instant Dain allowed himself to dream as well, but it was too impossible. He couldnot even imagine it. In that unguarded moment, Sulein's usual protections seemed to have vanished. He sat there facing Dain, his hope plain to read in his face. Dain could tell that this man wanted the reward and honor of finding the missing heir to Nether's throne. Sulein might bury himself in this workroom with his studies and his experiments, but he was an ambitious man. He wanted too much. He wanted from Dain what Dain did not have to give him.

"The pieces fit. Besides, only royalty may wear king's gla.s.s," Sulein said. "In Mandria, yes," Dain said, deliberately making his voice scornful. "But such is not the custom elsewhere. As a man foreign-born, you should know better than to think the custom of one land is the same in all."

Sulein's face reddened. He drew back as though he'd been struck. "Perhaps," he muttered.

"How many refugees have fled from Nether in recent years?" Dain asked. "Families have been divided and lost. I could belong to anyone. I have proof of nothing." "Prince Faldain's mother, the Queen Nereisse, was true eld," Sulein said. "King Tobeszijian was half-eld himself. It is allowed in Nether, to cross blood this way. The old gifts of seeing are valued there, unlike here, where the church has reformed much ... and caused much more to be lost." "I must go," Dain said.

Sulein jumped off his stool. "You disappoint me. I thought you would have more ambition for yourself."

"To reach too high is to be struck down," Dain said bitterly. "I cannot even vie for the position of Lord Odfrey's squire. How would you make me into a king?" Sulein drew in a breath, his brow creasing with pity. "Ah, yes. Perhaps it is so, and my ideas are only foolishness. Well, then, talk to me instead of eld magic. You may trust me not to share what you say. I know that it is not always safe to reveal too much knowledge of the old ways."

Dain frowned, backing up a step. "There is no magic." "I know differently." Sulein picked up a stick and held it out. "If you hold this in your hand, will it sprout leaves and return to life?" Dain held his hands at his side and glared at the physician. "No." "I have talked to Nocine the huntsman," Sulein said. "You cast a spell and turned him into a tree to save his life."

"I created a vision, an illusion," Dain protested.

"You have mastery over the animals."

"No."

"You can touch the minds of men, read their thoughts perhaps. Oh, your abilities in these areas are not as strong as mine, but I have studied and practiced many years to learn the art of mind spells, while this you do naturally."

"I am not like you!" Dain said sharply. "I do not-"

"Wouldn't you like to increase your powers?" Sulein asked him. "Wouldn't you like to know how to wield them exactly as you wish, to use them for-" "No!" Dain said. He hurried to the door, but it would not open. Frustrated, he tugged at it, twisting the ring this way and that, but it was locked. He gave the wooden panel a kick and turned back to face the physician. "When you learn to put aside your fear, when you learn to open your mind to what you truly are, then you will have a future of limitless possibilities," Sulein said.

"I have no desire to be a sorcerel," Dain said defiantly. "Let me go." "But you were so eager to come inside before."

"That's when I thought you might give back my bard crystal," Dain retorted.

"Keeping my property from me is theft."

Anger touched Sulein's eyes, and the air inside the room grew suddenly cold. "I study, Dain," he said after a long silence. "I guard. But I do not steal. Remember that."

Dain stood there, mute and angry, his blood pounding impatiently in his veins.

Sulein's words were all lies and trickery. Nothing he said could be trusted. Outside, the chapel bell began to ring, tolling the deaths solemnly while thunder continued to roll in the skies.

"I must go," Dain said.

"One last thing, and then you may relieve Lord Odfrey's mind. Come over to the light."

Sulein walked away from Dain, leaving him to follow reluctantly. The physician bent over another piece of parchment, writing on it with a gla.s.s pen spun from myriad colors that shimmered in the candlelight.

Putting down his pen, he turned around and held up the parchment in front of Dain. "Read what this says."

This time Dain found himself looking at runes, simple ones, written in the old style. New wariness entered him, for many times the old runes contained spells. "Well?" Sulein prompted.

"I can read this."

"What does it say?"

Dain said nothing.

"What does it say?"

Dain felt a pressure to respond. Angrily he gestured at Sulein. "Stop that! It will not work on me."

The pressure stopped, and Sulein frowned. "Your obstinance is most annoying. Why can you not cooperate even in such a simple matter as this?" "Because it's not simple," Dain said. "The old runes have power and spells in them. It-" He stopped in mid-sentence and frowned. A memory bobbed to the surface of his mind, and he sent Sulein a sharp look. "These are the runes carved on the band of the old ring in your strongbox. You want to know what they say, but I thought you could read-" "No,"

Sulein responded with visible discomfort. "I speak dwarf. I cannot read their runes. At least not very well. What does this legend say?" "Where did you get the ring?" Dain asked. "What do you want with an old ring like that?"

"Never you mind. Just tell me what the runes say."

Dain hesitated, tilting his head to one side. "You must give back my bard crystal." Sulein's eyes grew angry. "You would have me defy Lord Odfrey?" "The spells you practice and seek to learn in here defy him every day," Dain replied.

"I will not return the crystal to you," Sulein said, lifting his chin. "Not until Lord Odfrey commands me to do so."

"Then I won't tell you what the ring says."

Sulein glared at him a long while. Dain stared right back, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

In the end, it was Sulein who broke eye contact, "Very well," he said. "You may have your king's gla.s.s back."

Dain held out his hand.

Sulein drew himself up with a huff. "Do you doubt my word? Translate the runes."

Dain said nothing, just went on holding out his hand. Muttering in his beard, Sulein glided over to the strongbox and took it off the shelf. Dain hurried to him and received his pendant. Slipping it around his neck, Dain reached into the box before Sulein could close the lid and grabbed up the ring.

Holding it aloft, he read its inscription loudly, "Solder's ring!" The stones in the walls of the tower shook slightly, and the ring's great stone glowed with white light.

Sulein turned pale. "Mareesh have mercy!" he cried in horror. Grabbing the ring away from Dain, he threw it back into the box and slammed the lid shut. "Are you mad, invoking its powers like that? It is not to be touched, never to be touched without the greatest care and protection."

Alarmed by the reaction to what he meant as a joke, Dain stared at the physician. "What, exactly, is it?"

Sulein looked shaken. Clutching the strongbox to his chest, he wiped his face with his sleeve. "It is," he said slowly, "what I hoped it to be. A miracle brought to me by the G.o.ds and a peddler who sold it into my keeping for a piece of silver. The Ring of Solder," he said, his voice filled with awe. Dain expected the walls to shake again, but all was now still. "I told you the old runes have spells in them. If I say it again, will the walls shake a second time?"

"Foolish boy, do not joke about things you do not understand," Sulein admonished him sternly.

"So who is Solder?" Dain asked with curiosity. "Not a dwarf king. I've never heard of him."

"Someday you will know the legend," Sulein said. "If you do not already. You are a tangle of lies before me, but I will unravel all of them to find the truth of what you really are and what you really know."

"I am not this missing king you're looking for," Dain said, hoping he wasn't going to start that again.

"Believe me, if I were him, I'd-" "Go away, Dain," Sulein said, sounding tired. He waved his hand across the surface of the door, and it unlocked with an audible click. "I have much to consider. Now that I know this ring of legend truly exists, I must study its powers and safeguard it properly. It is not a toy to be played with." Dain stepped around him, heading for his escape, but Sulein gripped him by the back of his wet tunic and held him back.

"Say nothing about the ring," he said fiercely. "Not to Lord Odfrey, not to anyone. Swear this to me!" Dain frowned at him with equal fierceness. "Then grant me one boon."

"Must you barter over everything?"

Dain shrugged. "Blame it on my dwarf upbringing. I will keep silent, if you will part the veils of seeing.

Show me who I really am. Show me my father and mother. Give me my past."

He expected Sulein to jump on this. After all, the physician still wanted to name him King of Nether. But instead Sulein frowned and shook his head. "No," he said portentously. "Not now. I have other things to study." In a flash, Dain knew the truth. Fresh anger welled up inside him. "You do not know how," he said, his voice rising in disbelief. "The first level of the sorcerer's art, and you know it not. Are your minor spells just smoke and illusion? How can you reach past-" He stopped, aware that in his anger he was revealing too much knowledge of his own.

Sulein was watching him like a hawk.

Dain glared back at him, then wrenched open the door and strode out. As he went, he chastised himself for letting his temper and pride get the better of his good sense. Sulein had learned too much today. If not for the recovery of his bard crystal, Dain would have believed himself completely the loser of this battle of wills.