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Cold Blood

by Onyx Tao

[This story is licensed under the Creative Commons](%5C)

[Attribution Noncommercial Share Alike 3.0 License](%5C)

[Copyright 2008 by Onyx Tao](%5C) [ All Other Rights Reserved](%5C)

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/

Chapter 21

Change

Mostly, Dacien was sleepy. Aside from the short conversation with Lord Chimes, and a muted murmur of talk between Teodor and Dapple - and, strangely, Dacien couldn't manage to summon up the energy to pay attention, the trip back to Mistingrise was just another carriage ride. He understood they were being quiet in deference to him (since he appeared to be sleeping, cuddled on Teodor's chest), and that the conversation seemed to have something to do with short-blade versus long-blade versus full-blade versus great-blade versus maul, and how they compared with various unarmed techniques, and at first the conversation was sparse. Teodor would ask a question, and Dapple would reply in a brief, cautious sentence or two.

As the soft patter of Teodor's questions continued, however, the deep but subservient rumble of Dapple's voice went longer, and longer, and even began to lose some of its obsequiousness as Teodor skillfully drew the other minotaur into conversation, and the answers got longer as Dapple became more interested in them. And they were interesting; how Dapple had started warrior training (with a long-blade), what he thought of other weapons, why a great-blade was such a poor weapon, and what tempus techniques could be used to minimize a particular approach. At first, he tried to listen.

It was only when the carriage stopped with a sudden jerk that he realized he'd been drowsing, and not listening at all. Dapple was concentrating, and after a few more moments, shook his head, and whispered, "No lurkers, Master, not ahead nor behind. The one in the road isn't touching time, though."

Teodor nodded. "He's the only one I can sense, but ... I can't sense anyone hidden in time."

"Master, there's nobody hidden in time," Dapple said, flatly. "Not within miles of us."

"Master?" asked Dacien.

"You're awake ..." said Teodor. "Well. We're about eight miles out of Maze, hidden in a bubble of nondiscernment, but ... see for yourself. I'm quite confident nobody can tell we're here, and Dapple is certain nobody is hidden in time, and I think I'd sense any opposing mage who was pressing against our concealment - and I have pressed to see if anyone else is using my trick, but ..."

Dacien moved himself, feeling strangely heavy, up to the window in front. Past the coachman's legs, he saw a chain erected across the road, with a dull brown minotaur sitting on it, rocking idly on the chain. A large sword, and Dacien wondered briefly if this were a full-blade or a great-blade, was sheathed, and laying across the chain on the other side of the road. The minotaur could reach it, but it would take him a moment.

The minotaur himself was dressed in a long leather coat. Glimpses of dark red hinted at clothes beneath the coat, but all that could be seen clearly were heavy, strangely-shaped black-leather boots. Of course, thought Dacien, any footwear for a minotaur would be strangely shaped. He glanced quickly at Dapple and Teodor, both of whom were bare-hooved. He'd seen boots, back with Ourobouros forces, if not like these.

"Do the boots mean anything?" Dacien asked.

Teodor frowned, thinking. "Possibly. That he came by foot ... there's a footpath that crosses the road here, a shortcut, if you're willing to take stairs. Does that suggest anything, Dapple?"

The white-and-black minotaur shook his head. "Could he have left later than us, and still beaten us here?"

"Easily," said Teodor. "The trip is nearly twice as long by carriage as it is via the footpath." The gray minotaur sat back in the carriage, thinking. "Dapple, I'd like to go talk to him. He's alone, as best we can tell."

"Could you use that illusion you used with the human army?"

"Potentially, but .... there isn't room in the carriage," Teodor said, thinking. "The spell mirrors what I do to another place, and that's about as much as I can manage while holding the nondiscernment. Keeping all of us hidden is, for any number of reasons, harder than what I did on the hillside. There, I had a huge sea of grass to work with. Here, I've got a much narrow patch of road, and I'm trying to hide more persons. I don't think it's feasible, no. But it was an excellent thought."

"We can't go around him?"

"No," said Teodor. "Moving the chain - and we'd need to do that to pass - would puncture the nondiscernment. Hard not to notice that you've just fallen down, or that a chain you're swinging on has partly vanished. And once a nondiscernment draws notice ... it's fairly easy to see through. It's a subtle combination of mental and physical effects, and once the mental effects are shaken off the physical ones aren't sufficient to prevent discovery from an active searcher."

"Oh," said Dacien. "We could abandon the carriage, and walk."

"Not a bad idea," said Teodor. "Not a bad idea at all ... I could leave a nondiscernment on it, and we could sneak around the chain pretty easily inside another concealment. Although we are blocking the road."

"Master," said Dapple. "You are Lord Fog, and you have me. You think there's a single minotaur there; I know there's no one lurking in time. Is it proper for you to sneak?"

Teodor looked at Dapple mildly. "Why wouldn't it be? Still ... you do have a point. Being blocked by a single minotaur chafes." and Dacien felt a cool pulse of gray magic expand out, and the beginning of an itchy tickle on the back of his neck. "So. Dapple, please come with me. I trust, should he reach for time, you can incapacitate him."

"Yes, Master. Will you want him dead, or alive?"

"Alive, please. I'll have questions."

"Yes, Master," Dapple said calmly.

"If he reaches for time, or I address you by your previous designation. Not otherwise."

"I understand, Master."

Teodor opened the door, and Dapple quickly got out. Teodor followed, more carefully. Dacien watched carefully from the window. He wondered what it would look like, seeing a minotaur just appear ... and then he remembered exactly what it looked like. He shook the memory off as Teodor hailed the brown minotaur.

"Hello!" the gray minotaur called. "Who are you, and for what reason do you block this road?"

The brown minotaur did not appear startled, but he did turn, slowly, to face Teodor. He put his hands up, showing they were empty. "I'm waiting for Lord Fog. I am Warlord Filius, and, if you are Lord Fog, I am at your service, or at least, I hope to be. You are he, are you not?"

"I am," said Teodor.

"My friend Chelm informed me you were assembling a personal guard, and were looking for two or three qualified warlords. He said you'd be back in town, and we could apply to you then." The minotaur stood up from where he sat on the chain. "I decided to make my case to you, first. I thought I could get here before you did, and ... I do beg your pardon for blocking the road, and I'll take the chain down, but since I didn't notice you or your carriage until just now, I daresay if I hadn't, you'd have passed right by me and I'd have never known."

"Yes," said Teodor. "I would have. And I might have done any number of other things, too. Did Chelm tell you why I was assembling a guard, when for so long, I have had none?"

"No," Filius said cheerfully. "But he said you travel little, pay well, value discretion, treasure loyalty, and, regardless of politics, are honorable to a fault. I know Chelm well, and he does not give such pretty complements lightly."

"You are aware of my feeling on humans?"

"I am. I admit I do not share them, but I will comport myself with your desires, and I have no desire to argue politics. I am a warlord, and I hope to command your guard. I am not a political advisor."

Teodor nodded. "And why should you command?"

"It is my hope, Lord Fog, that you value initiative. I am not one to leave a task undone or to sit idly when I could be acting. Thus," and the minotaur pointed to the chain. "I made certain that I would have a chance to speak with you."

"I do," said Teodor. "And you have had your chance. Several days ago, I was attacked by assassins. They were skilled, very skilled, at tempus, and ... we escaped, by the skill of another, not ours. I will be honest with you. There may be more."

"They escaped?"

"No," said Lord Fog. "They were slain."

Filius nodded thoughtfully. "By Havel?"

"No," said Lord Fog grimly. "Not by Havel. They killed Lukas, and would have killed Havel if Lord Green weren't a better healer than I am."

"So one of them was better than Havel."

"All of them," said Lord Fog, in a calm tone that sounded more like he was commenting on a flower arrangement than describing the gory battle, "were better than Havel. All of them were at least as good as a grandmaster, and ... it is not impossible, and I would not be surprised, if they might have been better."

Filius looked a little puzzled. "So your magic defeated four grandmasters?"

"No," said Lord Fog again. "I said it wasn't our skill."

The leather-clad minotaur looked down at the chain, and then back up at the gray minotaur. "Lord Fog, it's clear you're not telling me something critical, and perhaps it's a secret, and you cannot - may not - tell me. I didn't know about the attack, only that ... you were forming a guard. It's in the nature of a guard to face danger, or attackers, so if you're trying to dissuade me on that ground, you won't."

"No, but ... it isn't the sinecure that a mage's guard has been, for the last few years, either."

The brown minotaur's face became more formal. "Lord Fog, I do not treat a position of bodyguard as anything other than a dangerous and demanding one. A soldier marches to the field of battle, and knows when he is about to be engaged. A bodyguard is on his field of battle constantly. I know many of the guards who have the honor of defending Lord Lash, and Lord Chimes, and even the Patriarch, and every one of them knows why they're there. We are fortunate, I would have said, that the days of assassination and clan warfare are behind us, but none of those guards takes that for granted, and neither did I. When you tell me that, apparently, those days have returned, it changes nothing."

The gray minotaur was silent for a moment, and then nodded acceptance. "Very well. You tell me Chelm vouches for you, and that is no small recommendation. You have a place in my guard. I have not picked a commander, not yet. It is a matter which I will give more thought, and I would like to have the bulls of my guard before I decide which will be commander, but until that time, you will have seniority." Teodor's voice grew more formal. "I offer shelter and board, and the shield of my House, and the honor of my name, if you will bear my sword."

"I accept your shelter, your shield, and your honor, and I am your sword, my Lord, to serve you and your House." Filius said.

"Excellent," said the gray minotaur. "I am not overfond of formality, as you may have heard, and so it suits me to be called merely Teodor."

The brown minotaur cocked his head. "It seems an impertinence, my Lord, but no doubt I will grow more used to it."

"No doubt," said Teodor. "Please take down the chain, and ... I'd ask you to ride in the carriage, but it's small. I trust you won't be offended to ride on top?"

"No," said Filius. "I'd prefer that, actually. I consider myself on duty, since I am, I think, your only guard."

Teodor nodded, and headed back to the carriage. "No and yes. I have placed a nondiscernment around my carriage. And it seems to have worked. I could have just abandoned the carriage, and gone around your roadblock, you know."

"I figured you could," Filius said. "But I also thought you wouldn't see a single minotaur as a threat."

Teodor stopped, and turned to face his new guard. "I am sorry to have to correct you, Filius. Those four grandmaster assassins were stopped by one minotaur. Just one. If he hadn't been there, visiting Lord Green, quite by happenstance, I would be dead. Lord Green would be dead. And I have no reason to think they would have stopped with the two of us. They might have gone on to deal with Lords Lash and Doze, or Lord Chimes, or strike at Lord Winter."

"One?" Filius's voice held not so much disbelief as surprise.

"One minotaur, who happened to be better at tempus then they were."

"Kanail?"

Teodor shrugged. "It may be that Kanail might have done the same, if he were there, but no, our savior was not he." The gray minotaur climbed up into the carriage.

Filius rolled the chain up as he asked, "Then, My Lord, why did you stop? If one minotaur is, in your view, so dangerous?"

"The principle advantage tempus gives is speed and surprise," Teodor replied. "You were not touching time, and ... you were out in the open. In short, you had forgone both advantages. Had you attempted to attack - or merely looked like you might be - I was prepared."

"Magic doesn't reach into time," Filius said, climbing up onto the carriage.

"So we have been taught," said Teodor, from within. "But do remember, Filius, that what you were taught is what we believed to be true at the time. It does not follow that it is true, only that our experiences and learning suggest that it is."

"Oh," said Filius, from up above the carriage. "Chelm used to say that you made his head hurt. I think maybe I misunderstood him. Have you found a way to use magic with tempus?"

"No," said Teodor cheerfully. "I have not. I know very little about tempus. Chelm did mention that?"

"That you lack warrior training?"

"Yes," Teodor said.

"He did."

"Good," said Teodor. "We'll have a longer talk when we're at Mistingrise."

"Very well, My Lord."

Dacien woke up again as the carriage halted. He didn't recall being sleepy, or even drifting off this time. Teodor smiled down at him as the gray minotaur sensed the movement. "Awake, then?"

"Yes," Dacien said, yawning. "I don't know why I'm so tired."

"Don't concern yourself," Teodor said. "There's nothing wrong." He considered for a moment. "Steward is showing Dapple and Filius their rooms. You'll be staying with me, back in the Unicorn Rooms. Dapple ... I was thinking of putting him in the Unicorn Rooms, too. Since they're connected to my suite."

Dacien just nodded. "I still don't understand why he ... or even how he belongs to both of us. I mean, that's ... strange. Is that a common thing, for a slave to have a slave?"

"No," said Teodor, drawing the word out. "Not common. But it's not common to have a slave as an apprentice, either. I admit I'm making a lot of this up as I go along, and Dapple's ... other talents - as welcome as they are - rather took me by surprise. I'm still not quite sure how I'm going to work everything out, honestly. It seems I'll need Dapple for the time being." The minotaur paused. "Can you stand?"

"Of course I can," said Dacien, jerking himself up off the seat. He overbalanced a little, and then caught himself. "Sorry."

"Of course," echoed Teodor, but Dacien noticed the minotaur watched him climb out into the covered patio carefully. "Are you feeling hot or cold?"

"No, I'm fine," said Dacien, shaking his head. He was still a little dizzy from waking up, he thought, and he followed Teodor into the house. "Where ... I'm sorry. Where's Dapple?"

Teodor turned, and frowned. "Already in the house. You were ... sleeping. Are you sure you're all right, Dacien?"

The house tipped sideways as Dacien turned around, and the cobbled patio floor swayed under him. "Yes. I'm fine ..." and then the cobbles jumped up at him. Dacien was conscious first of the pine smell of minotaur, as he realized Teodor had caught him.

"Falling down does not suggest you are at your best," Teodor said, softly, and shifted Dacien. "Here, that's better."

"I'm fine," Dacien insisted, although some part of him was only too aware that he wasn't. The sky kept spinning, whether he had his eyes open or not.

"Yes," agreed Teodor, "you are, but ... that doesn't seem to mean you can walk."

"I can walk," Dacien argued.

"I suggest a compromise," Teodor said gravely, carrying the human into the house. "I will concede that you can walk, as long as you make no attempt to do so. Does that seem reasonable to you?"

Something about that didn't quite make sense, and Dacien was dimly aware of the minotaur's progress through the house as thought about it. He managed to put together a response as the minotaur carried him up a huge staircase. "Not right," he said. "That's not right ..."

"It's right enough for the moment," Teodor said, sounding amused.

"I'm fine," Dacien insisted.

"Yes," agreed Teodor. "You're fine. I think I woke you up too soon, and I am sorry."

"But I'm fine," Dacien repeated stubbornly.

"Yes ..." sighed Teodor, pushing through a door, and then another, and then another. Dacien recognized the room suddenly as Teodor's bedroom as Teodor put him down carefully onto the soft gray coverlet. "Calm yourself. Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake."

"But ..." Dacien started.

"I'm sorry, Dacien, I truly am, but you should not be awake right now," Teodor said, sounding almost exasperated. "Sleep. Go back to sleep." Gray coolness edged over him, making the words echo strangely in his head. "Go to sleep."

Dacien woke later, and a glance at the window suggested he'd slept through the evening, and into the morning, as pre-dawn light filtered in through the gray curtains. He certainly felt better, though. He turned, expecting to see Teodor laying next to him, but the bed was empty, and the sheets smelled only of lavender, and there wasn't even a hint than another had lain beside him. Dacien suddenly missed the pine-musk scent of Teodor. Why was he alone?

What happened to him last night?

The door swung open, and a tired-looking Teodor walked in. "I'm sorry, Dacien, I knew you were waking but I was talking with Metrios." The minotaur's muzzle twisted in something like a pained grimace laced with amusement. "You certainly wouldn't have wanted to there for that."

"What ..." he croaked, but his jaw ached. Dacien reached up; he realized he had a headache, a tight tension over his temples, and his fingers found a swelling - two of them. He rubbed them, but it didn't help. He must have hit the ground hard last night, to not remember it.

"I'm sure you're hungry," Teodor said apologetically, unbuttoning his shirt. "I should have fed you last night but I didn't want to wake you up again, you were so disoriented."

Just the mention of food make Dacien realize he was starving. "Yes," he got out. "Hurts," he added. "I ache." He realized that was true; his entire body felt bruised from the fall. From the fall? Hadn't Teodor caught him? He must be remembering wrong.

"I'm sorry," said Teodor, swinging himself up onto the bed. "Here," and he drew Dacien up onto his body. Dacien fastened his lips around Teodor's right nipple, and began the rhythmic almost-but-not-quite chew that would start the flow of milk.

He was starving, he thought somewhere, as he suckled, hard, trying to pull more of the thick creamy pine-tasting milk from the minotaur. He hadn't realized how hungry he was, just waking, in the dull complaints of his body. The milk was good, though, sweet, thick, and it seemed to soothe a craving he had. Craving? Was this addictive, too? Had Teodor said milk was addictive? He thought about asking, and didn't, because he'd have to take his mouth away from the minotaur do so. When he was done, he promised himself, he'd ask. Just as soon as he was done.

"Don't do that, please," Teodor said, moving his hand away from his head, where he'd been rubbing one of the contusions. "Leave it alone."

Dacien mumbled something as he continued to nurse.

"You'll just irritate it," Teodor said. "It .."

The voice of Lord Chimes interrupted him.

Teodor? Are you free?

"Is it short? I spent almost the entire night speaking with Metrios," Teodor answered. "If this could wait ..."

The Lord of Bones wants to speak with you, in person.

"That sounds like it can wait."

Today.

"Oh," said Teodor. "I can't come to Maze today."

The Lord of Bones is leaving for Mistingrise in about ten minutes.

Teodor said nothing, he just lay on the bed, one hand stroking Dacien.

Teodor?

"I heard," the minotaur said tiredly. "Can he come tomorrow?"

No. He leaves for House Green tomorrow. He's on a tight schedule; he needs to be back in Ourobouros in three days. He is their Speaker.

"Could he visit me after Lord Green?"

No.

"And you can't stop him?"

I do not think it would be politic to do so.

"Ruus ... ah. There's no help for it. Why ... why does he have to speak with me?"

He wants to know everything you saw at the massacre.

"No he doesn't," grumbled the gray minotaur. "Nobody wants to see something like that ... no, no, I know what he means, and yes, he's a right to it, and yes, I'll receive him. Fine. Am I putting him up overnight?"

No, he's coming back to Maze tonight.

"Fine," said Teodor. "I've no guard for him. Or from him, for that matter, beyond Dapple ... he doesn't know about Dapple, does he?"

We warned him about ninja, but no, he's not aware that we have one.

"I don't want him to know."

Agreed.

"So then. No guard for him. I can't receive him with the appropriate pomp."

You can, actually. Remember, he's formally visiting not as the Lord of Bones, but the Lord of Appeal.

"He'll let me get away with that?"

If you consent to see him, yes. I'll let him know.

"The Lord of Appeal it is," sighed Teodor. "Is there anything else I should know?"

If he has any other motives for seeing you, I do not know them.

"Thank you, Ruus."

I'll reach for you later tonight.

"Yes, please do," sighed Teodor, and the sense of Lord Chimes faded. The minotaur looked down at Dacien. "Well, I suppose that solves the problem of having to go back to Maze ..." he said. "But it leaves other problems. Lunch, he'll need lunch ..." and Teodor's face went curiously blank. Gray tendrils of magic snaked out, leaving a wet coolness behind them, and the minotaur mage shifted Dacien to his left side.

He drank more milk for some length of time, and then the gray magic faded. "Lunch, open the doors, River Suite and rooms," muttered Teodor, "set the library, the dining room ... clothes. Can't forget clothes ..." Another gray tendril snaked out, and the minotaur was silent, concentrating, and then it faded. "Should be fine, everything should be fine," Teodor said. "I've got a couple of hours before he ... you did hear that, yes?"

Dacien was still drinking, but he wasn't so hungry he couldn't answer. "I did, Master."

"Teodor," the minotaur corrected drowsily.

Dacien chuckled, but didn't bother to answer.

"Let me up for a moment," the minotaur said, gently disengaging from the human. He slithered out of bed, and slipped out of the rest of his clothes, and then he came back. "I need to rest, Dacien. Here. A moment," and the minotaur lay on his side, so Dacien could still reach the small jutting nipple. "Come," he said, and Dacien did. The hunger had mostly abated, but as he'd nursed, as he'd gently suckled on Teodor, he'd felt the minotaur relax. This last kiss, of tongue to nipple, was less for him than than for Teodor. He had heard the exhaustion in Teodor's voice, felt it in the slump of the minotaur's body against the headboard, and now, he could feel that exhaustion give way to relaxation, and then a restful motionlessness. Dacien sighed, and then he, too, followed Teodor into sleep, cuddled against the warmth of the exhausted minotaur.

Butler woke them, rocking Teodor gently in the bed. "Master," he said. "Master. Your guest will be here. Your bath is ready, Master."

"Mmmm," said the drowsy minotaur, and he shook his head. "Yes, yes, of course, thank you. Hot water," he said. "And ... did you ..."

"Yes, Master," said Butler, in an of course I did tone, handing him a tall glass filled with something thick and pale yellow. Teodor gulped it down, much to Butler's surprise. "Master?"

"It was fine," Teodor reassured him, and swung himself over and out of the bed. "You said the bath was ready?"

"Yes, Master. I'll lay your clothes out ..." his voice trailed off as he saw Dacien, still laying tiredly in the bed.

"Ah," said Teodor, regarding the human in his bed for a moment, and Dacien could almost see him thinking about what to say to the house slave. "I'm afraid I've taxed his endurance rather heavily the last few days, and ... he'll be some time recovering, even if I had the luxury of letting him do so which I fear I may not."

"Yes, Master," said Butler, again.

"He won't be accompanying me to see the Lord of Bone ... no, no. The Lord of Appeal. Address him as ..."

"Great Lord, yes, Master," said Butler impatiently. "We know, Master. Your bath is getting cold, Master, and while I know it's no great matter for you to heat it up again ..."

"I am sorry," said Teodor, accepting the mild chiding. "I know. It's just ... I can't seem to put it out of my mind that he's the Lord of Bones."

"Excuse me, Master, but, does it matter? A great lord is a great lord."

"The Lord of Appeal is a great lord," Teodor said dryly. "The Lord of Bones is a head of state. Imagine formally receiving the Patriarch, or Lord Chimes."

"Oh," said Butler. "I ... I'll let the staff ..."

"No," said Teodor. "The only thing allowing us to receive him properly at all is that he's visiting as the Lord of Appeal, which, properly speaking, is an office belonging to him, and one that has its own precedence, albeit lesser than that of the Lord of Bones proper. Therefore, the Lord of Appeal he must be. Do not let the staff now he is anything beyond that, please."

"Speaking for the house, Master, if I may be so bold, we'll do our best regardless," Butler said.

"I know that," said Teodor, walking over to the bathing chamber and vanishing inside it. "There's simply no point in making anyone nervous," his voice called back, accompanied by splashing. "I'm more than nervous enough for all."

"As you command, Master," Butler said, disappearing into another room, and then emerging with a set of gray clothing. "There was another matter, Master,"

"Yes?" came Teodor's voice, along with some splashing.

"The ... other minotaur who arrived with you. He's ... insisting on being treated as a slave."

"That's because he is," Teodor said promptly. "Don't call him 'Sir.' His correct designation is 'Dapple.'"

"It seems wrong, Master," Butler offered. "Most of the staff is avoiding him."

"That's ... unfortunate," Teodor called back. "He's my personal slave, just as Dacien is, but he is a slave. I think, if you talk to him, you'll discover he's very well behaved. Er. Butler? I seem to be out of the hyacinth wash ..."

"Yes, Master. There was no more oil."

"Not to worry, the rose will ... actually, it's quite nice," said Teodor, sounding a little surprised. "It's not as overpowering as the last batch."

"Thank you, Master," Butler said. "So we're to treat Dapple just as another slave?"

"If you can," Teodor said. "I understand that might seem strange, but really, one of his problems is being disconnected. I'd appreciate it if you'd make an effort to be pleasant."

"He's asked what chores he can have." This sounded very disapproving.

"What did you give him?" came back the mildly interested answer.

"I haven't decided, Master," Butler said. He began arranging the clothing. "Will you want help drying?"

"I'll cheat this once," Teodor said, walking back into the room. Dacien pushed himself up in the bed, admiring the minotaur. He'd thought Teodor bulky and muscled, but ... after seeing Dapple and Chelm and even Lord Green, Teodor was lithe for a minotaur, much, much thinner. He smiled, and Teodor smiled back.

"I'm sorry," Dacien started to say, but Teodor shook his head.

"I'm pleased when you smile, Dacien," Teodor said warmly. "Truly I am. And what will I be ... the butterflies, excellent," he said, pulling on the shirt. But where is the robe?"

"I'll bring it right before you open the door, Master," Butler said.

"Very well," said Teodor, putting on the heavy gray silk trousers. Dacien could see fluttering butterflies embroidered on them, thick and thin gray threads against backdrop of gray cloth. "Would you do the ties?"

"Yes, Master," and Butler began tyeing the cords along the sides of the trousers.

"A great bother," said Teodor, "but elegant, once they're done."

"Yes, Master," agreed Butler.

"Dacien, I want you and Dapple to stay out of sight while the Lord of Appeal is here. There are any number of things I don't care to discuss with him, and I'd be hard pressed to say which of you I'd least like to explain." The gray minotaur pondered for a bit. "Dapple?"

"I'll fetch him, Master," started Butler, only to be cut off by Teodor.

"Finish the frogging, please," the minotaur said. "I can't tie it myself. I can barely reach it, and I don't pretend to tie as neatly as you do."

"I've got a better reach than you do, Master."

"That, too," agreed Teodor calmly. "Send someone to knock when the Lord of Bones - Appeal, the Lord of Appeal, approaches. There should be some time?"

"Yes, Master. Everything is set. The library is ready, the bar is stocked, the lunch can be ready in minutes - we're ready, Master. Don't worry."

"I've complete faith in your comportment," Teodor said. "I'm just ... well. This is a political visit, not a formal one. So. Am I presentable?"

"Six more to go, Master," Butler said. "Will you wait in the library?"

"No," decided Teodor. "I'll wait in the sitting room. Send Dapple in there, please, and ... Dacien will wait on me there, too."

"Yes, Master."

"Strike that," said Teodor. "Ask Dapple to look over the preparations, he's trained in such things. Send him up to fetch me when the Lord of Appeal arrives. Yes."

"Very well, Master," said Butler, and then stood, and quickly left.

Teodor sighed. "Trouble, I sense trouble," he said. "Still ... Dacien. Hungry?"

Dacien considered, and then nodded. "A little."

"To be expected," said Teodor. "I do feel better after that nap ... let's do this in the sitting room."

"Yes, Master," Dacien said, pushing himself out of the bed. "I'm sorry I was so ... out of it, I guess."

"Last night, you mean?"

"Yes. It was like I was drunk, or something, and ... well, you know better than anyone I wasn't."

Teodor laughed, "In a sense you were."

"Drunk?" Dacien paused. "What do you mean?"

"Minotaur milk has a number of side effects," Teodor said calmly. "The drowsiness, difficulties with coordination. Perfectly ... well. Expected."

"Addictive?" asked Dacien.

A frown creased the gray minotaur's muzzle. "Not ... not as such, no. It should depress libido, actually. It's pretty much killed mine, I admit. It does induce a ... hmmm, temporary, I suppose, dependency, but that will ... pass. In some period of time. I'm not ... not entirely certain how long that will take."

"So how will I know when I can eat real food again?" said Dacien, following the minotaur into the sitting room.

Teodor sat in one of the chairs, and sighed. "It will be some time, I'm afraid. I really don't know."

"Oh," said Dacien, watching as Teodor unbuttoned his shirt. "I was wondering ..."

"So am I," said Teodor. "I hope it doesn't upset you that I don't have all the answers."

"No," said Dacien. "Just the ones you won't share."

Teodor took a deep breath as the human climbed up on top of him. "I suppose I deserved that," he said.

"Yes," said Dacien.

Dapple crept into the room about an hour later. "Master?"

"I assume he's here?"

"He will be, Master, in two minutes."

"Thank you, Dapple," Teodor said, gently shifting Dacien off and onto the chair as the minotaur cautiously got up.

"Butler is waiting with your robe, Master," Dapple said.

"You are to wait here with Dacien," Teodor instructed. "In ... why don't you both take a bath. I'm not planning on calling for you, but ... I'm not entirely certain the Lord of Appeal is here only for a first-hand account."

"I can't protect you if I'm that far away, Master," Dapple said warningly.

"You couldn't protect me from the Lord of Bones if he wanted me dead, Dapple," Teodor said, "unless you struck before he did." Teodor smiled briefly. "Although, if he kills me, you may eliminate him and his entourage. Does that make you feel better?"

"Yes, Master," Dapple said solemnly.

"In the meantime ... clean up, find something reasonable to wear - I am sorry, all the clothes are gray, ask Dacien if you're curious about it - and hope I don't call you downstairs."

"Yes, Master," said Dapple.

Teodor nodded, and quickly left the sitting room. Dapple watched him speculatively.

"Dapple?" asked Dacien.

"Yes?" said Dapple, and then, "Master?"

"What are you thinking?"

Dapple turned back to Dacien. "I don't understand him," the minotaur said softly. "The gray coloring is his mage-signature, isn't it, Master?"

"Yes," said Dacien. "He told me he just buys undyed things now, and lets them bleach to his gray."

"I'll go start the bath," Dapple said, after a moment.

"Wait," Dacien called. "What don't you understand?"

Dapple froze, and then turned around. "I don't understand what he wants," the black-and-white dappled minotaur said, with something approaching frustration. "How can I serve him if I can't tell what he wants?"

"Why not just ... take him at what he says?"

Dapple shook his head tiredly. "Because nobody really says what they want. They'll tell you what they want you to think they want, or in rare cases, what they think they want, but ... what they want? Half the time they don't even know themselves. That's what makes ... that's why ... if I can understand what he wants, then ..." the minotaur's voice trailed off.

Dacien blinked. "That's what you want?"

"Yes," said the minotaur. "I want to serve. That's ... " Dapple broke off, started talking again. "That's what I learned in training." The minotaur turned, and walked calmly into the bathroom. The sounds of running water came from the still-open door, as did wisps of steam a minute later.

Dacien sighed, and headed into the bathroom as well.

They'd finished drying and dressing just as Butler walked in to tell them that the Master required them downstairs, in the East Solarium, at their earliest convenience. Which meant, Butler went on to explain, as soon as they were presentable. Butler granted that their clothing was adequate - Teodor's closet had turned out to have some human-size garments. Dapple had needed to look harder, but he'd turned up some plain gray clothes for a minotaur larger than Teodor that didn't fit too poorly. Butler clearly didn't approve, but all the other human said was, "We'll have some proper clothing for you, Dapple."

"Thank you," Dapple said back. "I'm sorry, but I don't know where the East Solarium is."

"Conservatory, second floor. With the glass ceiling? With the plants?"

"Yes, I saw that," Dapple said. "I know where that is." He looked confused. "I didn't see any chairs there."

"We moved furniture in," Butler said tersely. "Now go. He's waiting."

The East Solarium was, not surprisingly, on the east side of the house. It was tiled closely with oddly-shaped tiles, thickish diamond shapes interleaved almost randomly with thin ones, and all of them Lord Fog's signature shade of gray. Metal racks that held potted plants were clustered thickly around the edges of the room, all of them laden with plants. Hundreds of plants lined the walls, and thousands of leaves added unique colors of green to the room. The day might be overcast, the light as gray as the rest of Lord Fog's house and interior, but the plants were green, almost glaringly so after the monotonous gray on gray that spread over every other room in the house. Even the smell, earth and cool and the faint herbal scents of green growing things, seemed to break the sterile gray of the rest of the house.

Dacien instantly understood why Teodor would have chosen this room to greet the Lord of Bones or Appeal or whoever he was - this might be the only room in the house with color. Were plants immune to Teodor's signature? He almost reached out with his own senses before remembering there was another mage here, for whom Teodor had told him to keep a low profile. He'd ask later.

Dacien suspected the metal racks had been rearranged to make room for the chairs and low table that now stood in the center, but it didn't look it. Three comfortable gray leather chairs were arranged around a table with the same fat-diamond shape of the tiny tiles on the floor and walls. Lunch, if they'd had it, had been cleared away, and there was now simply a decanter of brandy - Dacien thought he recognized from the library, and suppressed a smile - and two heavy crystal glasses. The one on the little table to the side of Lord Fog's chair was mostly full.

The one on the matching table to the side of the other minotaur's chair had only a few drops left. The chair matched the other one - and now Dacien was certain they'd been moved from the library. Had that other table been in there too? He couldn't recall.

Which meant the other minotaur had to be the Lord of Bones, masquerading under the polite fiction of the Lord of Appeal. Dacien glanced around, looking for other minotaurs - guards, but he didn't see any. He snuck a glance at Dapple, and realized why he didn't see any. They were here, hidden in time. Perhaps Teodor couldn't sense them, but Dapple was glancing around, almost ready to spring.

"Here they are," the deep voice of the Lord of Bones washed over him, along with a musty, dusty wind across his face that had little to do with physical sensation.

"Yes," said Teodor.

The Lord of Bones was wearing gray, too, if not Teodor's signature gray. An elegantly cut gray tunic and an open gray robe. The Lord of Bones was the first minotaur Dacien had seen, other than Teodor, who might be called gray. But he wasn't, and sitting in the gray leather chair dressed in slightly darker gray clothing, across from a gray minotaur who practically blended into his clothes, no matter how elaborately decorated with embroidered butterflies and extravagant ties, Dacien could only call call him silver.

There was an almost metallic shine to his pelt, and the yellowed horns - standing out straight, like Luzeil's had been - only emphasized the brightness of the Lord of Bones. Like Teodor, he was lithe, although in his case, Dacien got the feeling of old. Perhaps even shrunken, and for a minotaur, that had to be old indeed.

"I suppose you're wondering why I wanted to see them," the voice said, and again, it was strong, confident, and carried the hint of dust in a way that was just on the other side of real.

Teodor took a breath. "No," he said.

Dacien followed Dapple's example, kneeling on the left side of Teodor's chair as Dapple took the left.

The silver minotaur smiled. "Ah, that's what I love about you, Lord Fog. Always so certain ... but I need Five back."

Teodor shook his head. "That's literally impossible."

The silver minotaur narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Literally impossible, eh? You've taken his name."

Teodor nodded.

"You haven't wasted any time," the other minotaur said, "I'll say that for you."

Teodor nodded again. "You know something?"

"I got this," and he produced a folded sheet of paper, "the day after I told Renso and Jervais."

"Deathbed secrets," said Teodor, sounding disgusted. "Really."

"I'm inclined to believe you," said the Lord of Bones. "It should have been delivered when the old Lord of Tongs died, not Luz."

Teodor just shook his head. "I'm sorry, but ... that's just a pathetic way to manage secrets, leaving notes, hoping they'll be delivered correctly, hoping there will be time to whisper something before the end. I wonder just how much lore has been lost that way?

"Neverthelss, I bought him, I've taken him, and he is mine." Teodor leaned back in his chair. "And he's going to stay that way."

"I know he's ninja-trained," the silver minotaur said, conversationally. "How will Lord Chimes and the Patriarch react, knowing you've got yourself a ninja? One that answers to you and only you?"

"Lord Chimes was surprised when I told him," Teodor said, equally calmly. "He'd thought they were extinct. I've no idea how the Patriarch reacted when Lord Chimes told him. I'd imagine he'd be concerned and worried, possibly surprised, unless he's been keeping secrets, too." It was Teodor's turn to smile.

The Lord of Bones snorted. "I see. I had thought you were at odds with the rest of the council."

"Whoever reported that was incorrect," Teodor said. "I disagree with most of them, yes. I am not at odds with any of them. They are my brother mages."

The silver minotaur shook his head. "You don't understand. Five -"

"Please do not call my Dapple that," Teodor said, putting up a hand. "It distresses me."

"Dapple?"

"Yes," Teodor said.

"How sweet," said the silver minotaur.

"My Lord, I was told you needed to be back at our Maze tonight. Yes?"

"I do."

"Then why not move straight to the attempt to bribe me, now that the subtle threat has failed."

"You're not bribable," the Lord of Bones said. "Mind you, I didn't believe it when Luz told me, but ... I've come to agree with him."

"Ah. Then what comes after the bribe?"

"Another threat, I'm afraid," the silver minotaur said, softly. "Filius is not a match for my guard."

"Mmmm," said Teodor. "No, I suppose not."

"And once you are dead, Dapple can be claimed. He won't - cannot, in fact - obey any order posthumously."

Teodor shook his head. "Then before you give any commands you might have cause, although not opportunity, to regret, allow me to correct a misapprehension. My Lord of Appeal, I took his name at House Green. I didn't think it wise to have a ninja answer to, as you put it, me and me alone. He doesn't."

"Lord Green," muttered the silver minotaur. "It's frustrating, although ... I admit I'm just as glad that option is foreclosed. I have the greatest respect for you, Lord Fog, and it's still growing. I'm quite happy to avoid ... unpleasantness. But ... that very neatly solves ... any number of problems you might have. May I congratulate you on your foresight?"

"Thank you," Teodor said.

"It doesn't, however, help me."

"No," said Teodor. "I don't think it does. I must admit, My Lord of Appeal, that I am not feeling particularly helpful, especially after being threatened in my own house. I find I resent it, My Lord. Is there anything further we must discuss?"

"Yes," said the silver minotaur. "I'm afraid I ... misled you myself, when I suggested this was the letter I received after Luziel's death. It's not." He handed the paper to Teodor, who took it cautiously. "I was hoping not ... well, I, too, can prepare for unlikely outcomes."

The Lord of Bones refilled his glass and sipped the brandy appreciatively while Teodor read the letter. Teodor finished it, looked up, took an abstemious sip from his own glass, and reread it. He folded it back up, handed it over to the silver minotaur, who simply set it down on the table between them. "I admit I didn't follow the mathematical portion of the argument. I think I understood what it was trying to support," Teodor said. "I am not sure I am convinced, but it seems ... possible. If this analysis is correct - and I've every reason to think it is, even if I do not follow it, then ... I find this alarming."

"I can follow the mathematics," the Lord of Bones said grimly. "I assure you they are clear and constitute sufficient proof for me and Ouroborous. The problem is, we didn't have an answer to the problem."

"I assume your guards don't know about this."

"Correct."

Teodor nodded thoughtfully. "Then let us discuss it discretely. The situation is ... unpleasant. Difficult. But this applies to all clans, does it not?"

"Yes. I've done the maths for them as well," the Lord of Bones said. "Personally. Right now, only I, you, and ... one other knows about this."

"Deathbed secrets," said Teodor, disapprovingly. "Really. Every mage on your council should know this. You should have alerted your Patriarch."

"It's too sensitive."

"We'll have to agree to disagree," Teodor said. "Speaking for myself, I will relay this to Lord Chimes, and our Patriarch will be told."

"Deathbed secrets," said the Lord of Bones. "I understand from Luzeil you do have one. And I suspect you have another."

Teodor froze; that was the only word for it, Dacien thought. "Ah?"

"You may not have seen the problem, not like this, but ... you've still solved it. Haven't you? And apparently you've solved it twice. I saw Chelm before I left, and, um, Dapple, now. Care to part with those deathbed secrets, Lord Fog?"

Teodor set his glass down. "There's no point in dissimulation."

"I don't think so, but ... I would like to see you lie. Luzeil said you could do it. That make three deathbed secrets, wouldn't it?"

"It would." Teodor said.

"That I know of," the Lord of Bones added, in a bright, cheerful voice.

"Perspicacity appears to be more useful than percipience," sighed Teodor.

"You should be speaker, not the Lord of Chimes," the Lord of Bones said. "You're wasted here."

"I'd hate it," said Teodor.

"I'm not fond of it either," said the Lord of Bones. "So?"

"Ruus's percipience makes him the superior administrator," Teodor said.

"Yes, that has let Lycaili squeak by," the Lord of Bones said dryly. "Until the humans figured out how to block it."

"More salt for my wounds, please."

The Lord of Bones smiled, in a most unfriendly way. "Give."

Teodor blinked. "It occurs to me, that ... your threat against my person was bluff."

"Of course. I'd never risk a war with Lycaili. We can't win that fight. Nobody can."

"Because dead, my deathbed secrets are lost," Teodor continued.

"Maybe," said the Lord of Bones. "Possibly not. You're not the kind to set things up that way. But ... I don't know how you'd ensure they got passed on, and I don't have the time to figure it out." The silver minotaur considered. "You're wasted in Lycaili, Lord Fog. Wasted. Lord Lash is the favorite to replace Lord Chimes, is he not?"

"I'm sure it would be improper for me to discuss that."

"How would you like to be Ouroborous speaker?"

Teodor set his glass down. "You adopt me into Ouroborous, and then retire in my favor? That's ..."

"How long have I held my office?"

Teodor nodded. "You want to retire."

"I want a younger bull in the position," corrected the Lord of Bones. "Someone ... adequate to the task."

"I am Lycaili, and have accepted the responsibilities of a Lycaili mage," Teodor said. "What you suggest would be dishonorable."

The Lord of Bones shrugged. "Ask Lord Chimes and the Patriarch to release you. I'm sure they'd leap at the chance to make a Lycaili minotaur Lord of Bones. It could be quite an advantage to Lycaili, having a staunch and reliable friend in Ouroborous."

"My understanding is that we already had that," Teodor said. "I decline. Even making the request would undermine me." He paused. "And, just as an aside, as a bribe, it's an awful one."

"It is," agreed the Lord of Bones sourly. "I couldn't agree with you more." The silver minotaur sipped more brandy, and then refilled his glass from the decanter. "This is lovely, by the way."

"Another thing to agree on," said Teodor. "Are we through fencing?"

"No," the silver minotaur said. "I want ... those solutions."

Teodor nodded. "Fine. What is Ouroborous prepared to give for them?"

"We forgive the slaughter of our troops."

Teodor looked confused. "I didn't realize you blamed Lycaili."

"We don't. We forgive the humans."

Teodor was quiet for a moment, and looked abashed. "I don't really understand your offer, My Lord of Appeal. I am sorry."

"It means we drop our retaliatory invasion plans," the Lord of Bones said. "I'm not in favor of that ... but the other matter is more important to me."

Teodor shook his head. "You would have to invade us, first. I know the council's mind on this, and ... the mage's council will block it. I know the opinions of my brothers on this matter."

"Oh?" The silver minotaur sat back in his chair. "If we fortify and defend Mog Ford?"

"A permanent armed presence on Lycaili territory?" Teodor asked, dubiously.

"Well. Under the command of ... a Lycaili general."

"Really," said Teodor, with even more doubt. "And ..." Teodor sat up and tapped the folded letter laying on the table. "And who is going to provide a mage for this exercise? Ouroborous?"

"Point," sighed the silver minotaur. "Defeat. What does Lycaili want for this information?"

"I hardly know," said Teodor. "Let us say that Ouroborous owes Lycaili two favors to be specified later, and one to be specified now."

The Lord of Bones grimaced. "I had hoped to avoid that."

"Then you ought have brought Lord Chimes with you," said Teodor. "He, not me, is best suited to trade on these matters."

"I had hoped ..."

"To find me an easier negotiator?"

The silver minotaur nodded.

"Am I?"

"No," the Lord of Bones acknowledged. "You drive at least as hard a bargain as Lord Chimes would."

"Flattery," said Teodor. "But it's kind of you to say it, I suppose."

"What favor do you want now?"

"Something that ... will work to your benefit, actually," Teodor said. "As you know, I am not warrior-trained."

"Yes."

"I've thought about attending Tancresos, but ... it would be strange. All would know me as Lord Fog. I could not be ... just a student."

"Probably not," agreed the silver minotaur.

"So perhaps I might attend Zargalos," Teodor continued. "Just as Teodor, a minotaur with an unfortunately bland pelt."

"And an endless bucket of gray paint, to splash about? Because, that might work."

Teodor smiled, a small, humorless expression. "I have found a way to suppress that."

"Have you," breathed the Lord of Bones. "Have you, now."

Teodor nodded.

"How?"

"I would, of course, be available for ... consultation and assistance in matters magical. And I'd probably want to have one or two others with me. Interested?"

"Yes," said the Lord of Bones. "That is easy. If, and I do say if, you can quietly suppress your signature. Although the Zargalos curriculum is very difficult. Harder than yours."

Teodor shrugged. "If I can't handle it, that's hardly your fault. I do not want any favoritism, beyond entry."

"No, I don't believe you would, Lord Fog, and that is to your credit. And your offer to assist ... would be useful."

"Please remember I have no ability with earth spells," said Teodor. "I am an indifferent healer, at best."

"But you do have an affinity for fire, if I recall correctly."

"I can learn fire spells," said Teodor. "And I have learned ... hundreds, from Lord Ember. What looks like affinity is merely memorization."

"Good enough for most things," said the Lord of Bones, sounding more enthusiastic. "This is good. Very good. And ..."

"Yes?"

"Dapple would be with you?"

Teodor blinked. "Yes. Why?"

"Might I ... borrow him?"

Teodor was silent for a minute as he considered. "Why?"

"Training. He has tempus techniques that we don't. Techniques ... I must have."

Teodor nodded. "I don't see why not ... but is there some reason ... wait, wait." He closed his eyes. "Dapple, have you been out in the gardens?"

"Yes, Master."

"There are three fountains. Have you seen the one with the fishes and the leaves?"

"I have, Master."

"Excellent. To the east there is a pillar, with a bust of Lord Ember. I don't expect you to recognize him, but ... that is who it is, regardless. If you take the bust off, the pillar unscrews to reveal a fairly small space. There is a small book, wrapped in lead foil. Well. All you can see is the lead foil, really, but ... there's only one package, so only one book. Would you be good enough to fetch me that package, please?"

"Of course, Master," and Dapple rose and headed out. Teodor waited until the slave minotaur had left the room.

"Are you planning on training ninjas, My Lord of Appeal?"

"Do you miss anything, Lord Fog?"

"I wouldn't know," Teodor said. "After all, I would have missed it. And yes, from time to time, small matters I've overlooked are brought to my attention. Are you planning on training ninjas, My Lord of Appeal? Do you have an unexpurgated copy of O Katallilos Paideia apo Anthropinos yet?"

"I do. I've recovered five of the known eight copies so far."

"If you're looking for the one belonging to Learned Vices, I have it, so you can ... cease looking for that one."

"I appreciate your telling me. Ultimately, though, it just doesn't matter if I can have Dapple or not. My mind - and the Patriarch's - is made up on the matter," the Lord of Bones said. "I'd rather have them as well trained as I can, but even if I cannot use Dapple, Ourobouros will have ninja."

"Ghastly," said Teodor. "Repulsive and ghastly."

"I lack your luxury of idealism," said the Lord of Bones. "I have borders, and officers, and responsibilities, and clan members and their dependents to protect."

"I see it as betrayal of those clan members," Teodor said.

"And if they volunteer?"

"I see it as betrayal of those clan members," Teodor repeated. "Dapple, sweet as he is, is mentally crippled, deliberately so, to allow him prodigious feats of temporal manipulation."

"It's not your decision," the Lord of Bones said softly. "I believe you declined this chair, not five minutes ago."

Teodor nodded. "I reserve my objections, but yes, it is your decision to make."

"And that decision has been made."

"So be it."

"Under those circumstances ... may I borrow Dapple?"

Teodor was quiet, thinking. "Yes, on two conditions. One is a formality, that Dapple agree. Since I wish it, he will. Two, that each of your volunteers spends one day with Dapple, so they understand - truly understand - just what it is they are volunteering for. And finally, this permission is for volunteers, not volunteered. That is one of the assumptions of your request, after all."

It was the Lord of Bones's turn to consider. "Perhaps if the one responsible for the decision spent the day?"

Teodor took a moment to answer, "Very well. Yes."

"Good," said the Lord of Bones. "Then I have one of the three things I wanted."

"Lucky you," said Teodor, and then frowned. "That was poorly said. I beg your forgiveness."

"I understand. It is nothing."

Teodor nodded. "I assume ... no. We are agreed?"

"We are agreed."

"Very well. The book I sent Dapple for consists of nearly a century of research. It is the only copy, and, as you guessed, a sort of deathbed secret, although I would say that it represents an experiment only partially concluded. You may make use of the book for one year, at which time it will be returned to me. Nobody but yourself may read it. You may not reveal, to anyone, for any reason, where you got it, or any names you find in it, nor cause any person mentioned to be revealed in conjunction with my experiments. Are these conditions acceptable?"

"But I may disclose the information, create my own notebook, as long as I do not reference the source of the lore?"

"You may. I am concerned only that my name not emerge, nor the name of anyone involved. You wanted the secret, this is what I know regarding it. In some cases, these are my conjectures and guesses."

"Acceptable, and very fair, although ... you will not be credited with the discovery. Rediscovery."

"I require no credit," Teodor said. "And in fact do not want it. Again, out of respect for the living."

"So you've succeeded?"

"I have."

"Amazing," said the Lord of Bones. "Even Luzeil didn't guess that."

"I misled him," said Teodor. "Very carefully. I hid something else and let him discern that which I did not care about. Please don't think less of him for that."

"I don't," said the Lord of Bones. "I just wonder what else you're hiding."

Teodor smiled tightly. "Whenever you have the leverage to pry it out of me, My Lord of Appeal, we can have a further discussion."

"And you are poised to succeed again, I think. And the other? How do you account for Dapple and Chelm?"

"A moment. Let me tighten the spells of quiet around us." Dacien could feel soft gray magic creep out, and form a bubble around them, just him, Teodor, and the Lord of Bones. "This secret is held ... by a minority of our council. We have an apprentice who can cause a bull to become a potential mage, but as of yet, no potential mage he's made has transitioned to active. So ... again, rather than a secret passed on a deathbed, merely an incomplete experiment."

"Very impressive. And ... well. I will raise the issue of this apprentice with Lord Chimes. I ..."

"No," said Teodor. "We do not know that this procedure is safe yet."

"You say bulls. You've failed with humans?"

"We haven't dared to try yet," Teodor admitted. "We've created a number of potential mages, and we're waiting to see if - how - they become active. It seems too good to be true, really."

The silver minotaur nodded. "I can see that. Still ... you should know in a decade, though."

"Yes," said Teodor. "And ... my authority to reveal this might be questioned. I would appreciate your discretion. Let me handle it, and perhaps, when I come to Zargalos, I might include the mage with my entourage. For security reasons, we're keeping this under ... extremely tight control. Please consider this carefully; widespread knowledge of this might easily provoke a clan war - especially when mixed with that," and Teodor pointed to the letter. "I assure you, it is our intent that Ourobouros benefit as fully from this capability as Lycaili, you are our closest and best allies, but I beg you to consider the damage indiscretion might cause. We say, out loud, that Lord Green and I were the targets, but ..."

"Suddenly you have to wonder if perhaps a hint of this got out, yes," the Lord of Bones said. "A dead apprentice benefits ... well, neither Ourobouros nor Lycaili, certainly. I'll brief the Patriarch, but nobody else."

Teodor nodded solemnly. "Most reasonable. I thank you." He lifted a hand, and the grayness dispersed with the coolness that was the hallmark of Lord Fog's magic.

Dapple was standing just at the edge of the dissipating circle. "Master?"

"Ah, I'm sorry, Dapple," Teodor said. "We just needed some ... extreme privacy, that's all. Did you ..." his voice trailed off as Dapple held out a small sealed lead container.

"Marvelous. Present it to the Lord of Boh - Appeal, please," and the Lord of Bones solemnly took the package from Dapple.

"I will guard it carefully," the silver minotaur promised, and then paused. "Might I ask ... why did you compile everything into a journal? Did you expect me to ask for it?"

"No," said Teodor. "I never dreamed Luz would be ... indiscreet. Not that I fault him, I just ... well. I should have known better, I suppose, but Luz was always a blind spot of mine. I wrote it for Chelm."

"Oh," the silver minotaur said. "I ... yes. Of course. I should have realized." The package disappeared into his robe. "When do you think you might be able to come to our labyrinth?"

Teodor shrugged. "Soon, I hope. A year, two. There's too much undecided at the moment."

"There is," the Lord of Bones agreed. "And it gets late. I cannot think of anything else we need to discuss."

"Nor I," said Teodor, rising. "I wish you pleasant travel back to our maze. May I see you to your carriage?"

"I would be delighted, Lord Fog," and the silver minotaur rose as well. A quick hand gesture to Dacien indicated that he should stay still, and he waited until the two minotaur had ambled out of the room.

Dapple shot a quick, questioning glance at Dacien, who just lifted his hands in confusion. "I don't know," Dacien said. "I didn't understand half of what they were talking about." The black and white minotaur just nodded at that. "Should ... we follow?"

Dapple shook his head strongly. "No. We wait. Master will tell us what he wants."

What Teodor wanted, Dacien soon discovered, was for them to meet him in the entry hall as the Lord of Bones's carriage, there to take them - or more specifically, Dacien, since Dapple was sent back up to Teodor's suite - down a staircase concealed behind the gray wood paneling, walked past two more heavy wood doors, and then through what could only be called a secret door. Opening it required moving a huge (and heavy) wood-framed painting from its position on the wall - where, Teodor explained, its weight was keeping a bolt from moving, and thus preventing the door from opening. "We'll put the picture back when we come out."

Beyond the door was another stairway, of filigreed iron, heading up. It was uncomfortably close for Teodor, even though he was on the small side for a minotaur, but Dacien had no problems at all. They went up for quite a while - "four stories" - and finally emerged into a large open room, with one wall covered with curtains. Teodor yanked them aside, and sunlight streamed in, making the room bright despite the omnipresent gray that caused the polished wood floor to blend seamlessly into the wood paneled walls and ceiling. Teodor pulled a chair out from a closet, set a clever metal stand up on a tripod, and placed a mirror on the stand, directly in front of the chair.

"There's a spell laid in on the mirror," Teodor explained. "Quite a useful one, or it would be ..."

"But?"

"But it's hard to use," Teodor said. "The original idea was that these mirrors would be an extension of the far-talking spell, allowing vision between parties as well as speech, in addition to allowing those of us who cannot work the far-talking spell to reach our colleagues. Lord Rill made them, quite a long time ago, twelve of them, one for each mage on the council."

"So ..."

"Why don't we use them more often? Because, since they are mirrors, silver-coated glass, they are fragile. Three have broken. Also, although they were easy for Lord Rill to use, it turns out they are immensely demanding on everyone else. Lord Green can keep the spell going, although he has no attention left for conversation. Lord Chimes can manage conversation along with the spell, but not for more than five minutes. I can do about as well as Lord Chimes. Lord Lash can't use them at all, and Lord Doze ... well. Lord Doze finds they reflect his signature in a peculiar way. His attempt to use them caused him to fall asleep. Lord Winter can't do more than send a still image.

"In short," Teodor continued, "they were a good idea that just didn't work out in practice." He settled the mirror, and adjusted the chair a bit in front of it. "That looks good, doesn't it?"

"I guess," Dacien said

"I'd like you to try to work the mirror," Teodor said. "I'm wondering if your ... unusual gifts will make it easier to work. Which would be good, very good, if the mirrors could work the way they were intended."

"Oh," said Dacien, somewhat daunted. "I ..."

"This," said Teodor, "is my workroom. If you calm yourself, you'll sense ... protections, woven into the floor, the walls, the windows. If it looks similar to ... Chelm's weapon-practice room, which used to be the scriptorium at House Gray, well, there's a reason. That was my workroom in the city. I don't doubt you could overcome the protections, if you tried, but they will protect us and everyone else from us. I know I've asked you to be ... cautious in testing your power - and in fact I've told you not to." The gray minotaur nodded, and gestured to the mostly empty room.

"Here is where you can test and experiment, in safety. Relative safety. Magic is never safe. Not for me, not for you ... and I'm afraid it will be all the more dangerous for you."

"Why?" asked Dacien. "Does this ... being here, having a magic lesson, count as doing magic?"

"It does," said Teodor approvingly. "I am Teodor when we are in here. Quite right."

"Thank you," said Dacien. "So, why will it be more dangerous for me?"

"Because I've never known anything like your magic. As a lens, you are ... unworkable. Working with me as a lens ... I will be honest, Dacien. I think I may ask Sasha to work with you on that. Your ... presence is fairly overwhelming. I would rather not expose myself to it again."

"Then why would you ask Sasha?"

"Sasha is already addicted to lens euphoria. You can't make him worse."

"But I could?"

Teodor looked down at the human. "As I said at the time, there are things you can do to ... have less impact on your lens. But yes, I think you could have such an effect on me, even if you were trying not to. And I would rather not be addicted. Nor would you care for me to be addicted to you, Apprentice."

Dacien blinked. "You're right."

"Not always," said Teodor blandly, "but often enough, I think. So. If I dare not work spells through you to show you how it is done, and if I dare not coach you through working spells through me, then ... what is left? I've been thinking and thinking and thinking, and I recall when you sent magic through a spell I was weaving. The night the rain broke - do you remember?"

"Yes," said Dacien.

"But I'm ... a little leery of working a spell and having you ... experiment. So this is what I've come up with - Rill's Mirrors. A large, complex, pretty much worthless set of enchantments on which you can experiment to your heart's content," the minotaur concluded.

"Worthless?"

Teodor nodded affirmatively. "Nobody except Rill could use them well. The far-speaking spell is far more useful. This, although it would be useful, since it relays both image and sound, is large, unwieldy, and delicate. I've no idea what Lord Rill was thinking, to build them. The mages of his time used them, until Lord Rill passed, but only because Lord Rill could hold them open."

"Oh," said Dacien. "So if I break one ..."

"It's a loss," Teodor said. "This is a priceless historical artifact. I don't offer it up because it's trash. I offer it up because ... I think it will have value."

"What ... what do I do?"

Teodor shrugged. "Experiment," he said. "See what you can make of it. Be careful, but ... just see what happens."

Dacien nodded, and ... extended his sense out, to the currents of magic around the mirror. He could feel the spell there, lines and curves and complexities imposed on the currents of magic, somehow anchored to the great mirror itself, waiting. They were hollows, emptinesses, curving away in impossible directions, looping around and somehow not ... the human pulled his own magic, the clearness, like water, like air, and sent it into the channels of the mirror. The complex spell laid on the mirror absorbed it, like water into a sponge, the spell contorted and twisted and then the magic began to flow out of it, reaching out, and Dacien replenished the magic. Again. And again, and again, and again, until the mirror was humming with magic, and twelve strands of power stretched from it. Dacien could feel the pull, and realized that those mirrors were reconnecting with their brothers, he could feel the dead weight of the missing three, and he pulled more and more and more magic through the mirrors, until the spell stabilized. There was a slow bleed of magic from the three dead links, but that was easy enough to stabilize. All he had to do was to feed the spell, at the right speed.

"Dacien, are you seeing this?" The minotaur's voice cut into his thoughts. "This is ... amazing."

Dacien dragged his eyes open - it was surprisingly hard to do, especially while feeding magic into voracious spell of the mirrors. But nevertheless ...

The mirror had vanished, or rather, it seemed to have gained depth. Eleven huge mirrors hung in a half-circle, or seemed to. Three of then were black, and another three were black, but their blackness was simply they showed a dark place. Seven of the others showed an empty room, and the eighth opened into a minotaur's study - and it faced the cream-colored Lord Chimes, who was reading papers. Apparently, he hadn't seen the change in the mirror that must be hanging directly in front of his desk.

"Intriguing," said Teodor, to the mirror. "Ruus. Ruus!"

The cream-colored minotaur looked up, and then at the mirror, and looked, for just a moment, shocked, before the expression vanished into bovine calmness.

"I didn't know you get that old thing working," he said.

"I didn't," Teodor said. "My apprentice did. It looks like it's an effort for him, though."

"He's got the whole thing going. Didn't you tell him to do one mirror at a time?"

"I didn't tell him anything," Teodor responded. "I told him to ... see what he could do."

Shock flickered across Lord Chime's muzzle. "What if he broke it?"

"Exactly." said Teodor. "Better it than me. He can't be trained as a lens, I will not willingly be a lens to him - and I advise you to avoid that, too. What else is left?"

Lord Chimes shook his head. "It's rash."

"Yes, yes," said Teodor. "I will make my apologies to the Council in good time."

"Your human will have to be put down."

"That decision ... has not yet been made."

"What other decision is possible?" asked the frustrated other minotaur. "Teodor. Lord Fog. You simply can't train a human as a mage!"

"You yourself gave him to me," Teodor said. "And ... may we have this discussion later? The Lord of Bones has just left."

"So?"

"You don't imagine he only wanted my observations, do you?"

"He guessed about Dapple?"

"Worse," said Teodor. "He knew."

"He wants to ..."

"Creator's folly," said Teodor. "You encouraged him."

"And how else am I supposed to keep Lycaili safe?" snapped the creamy minotaur.

Teodor blinked. "You don't keep a land safe from bandits by training bandits."

"No, you train warriors. To fight bandits."

"Well. That wasn't all," Teodor said. He pulled the letter the Lord of Bones had given him. "Did you see this?"

"No. What is it?"

"It's an invitation to dinner, to you, from me," Teodor said calmly. "At your earliest convenience. I think we'll have a hazelnut mousse."

This time, the look flickered across Ruus's face so quickly that Dacien couldn't identify it. "You want do discuss the training issues?"

"No. And ... I led the Lord of Bones to believe two untrue things, that Lord Green has an apprentice, and that Lord Green is also Dapple's master. Please do not undeceive him."

The minotaur blinked again, opened his mouth as if to say something, and was cut off by the scream.

Dacien hadn't meant to. The spell had been pulling on him, more, and more, and he'd felt the resonance in his bones, a tingling discomfort that stopped short of outright pain, but it had spread, the magic flowing through him, expanding - that was the only word for the sensation - expanding, out into his muscles, into his flesh, and it had finally reached his skin. Only the sensation of the magic hadn't stopped with tingling. Dacien had a moment to realize that what he was feeling wasn't the spell on the mirror, but something else, just before the uncomfortable but bearable tingling changed, without warning, to ripping.

His bones were tearing in two; his teeth - he could feel them, squeezing out of his jaw, and somehow that was worse than the popping sounds coming from inside his ears, or the cracking noises from his arms and legs and hips and as he shuddered and gasped for breath for a second scream, he could feel the magic run out of the mirror but still pooling in him.

Teodor was kneeling by him, a look of horror on his face, and gray magic snapped into place like an arm popping back into a socket - he couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, although the pain was gone.

"Dacien," Teodor said quickly. "I've ... paralyzed you, to block the pain. I have to let you breathe, though. I'll continue to block the pain - but don't move. You could do unrepairable damage to yourself while you can't feel anything, and ... letting your diaphragm move while holding the rest of you still requires my full concentration."

The magic shifted, air flowed into his lungs. Something was wrong with vision, though, the gray of the room seemed ... grayer. Duller. More dead. And ... something was funny about the room, something looked wrong ...

"Don't speak. Just stay still. I don't know what's happened, and I fear to do anything beyond ease the symptoms ..." he paused.

Dacien could still breathe, though, through the gray, and he could feel other strands of magic, moving quietly around him.

"I don't know what it is about you and magic," the minotaur said at last, "but you do seem to bring out the worst in it. You're not in any danger at this point - you'll be fine. Something that should have happened painlessly, over time, has ... happened, or at least tried to happen, in seconds. I can set everything to rights, but ... it's going to be excruciatingly painful. Yes, worse than this was, I think." There was a short pause.

"I'm going to ... well. Put you into a very, very, deep sleep, while this completes." There was a pause. "I'd like to shut your mind down completely, but ... it's a bad idea. You will probably have some strange dreams," Teodor's voice said. "May they be pleasant, Dacien."

There wasn't even a moment of darkness.