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Chapter 153: A Special Brownie

Liam turned away from his front door with a sigh. He had not received a call back from the school board, so perhaps he should do as he said he would and contact the Education Minister's office. He pulled out his phone. "Ciaran, I shall make a quick phone call; at least, I hope it will be quick." Liam's prized pupil nodded and fell in behind Liam as he trotted up the road to pass by Faelen's home. The Ancient One knew the phone number for the office -- he had considered calling before now -- and typed it in.

The line was answered in a mere two rings. "Education Minister Joseph Strickland's office, Joseph speaking."

Unexpected. Liam most certainly did not expect to get through that easily. "Good morning, Minister. This is Liam Smith. I--"

A jovial exclamation cut him off. "Ah, yes! I was expecting you." Indeed? How...peculiar. "I've been hearing a lot--" The sound of a computer chiming interrupted the minister for a moment. "--an awful lot about you." Liam could quite easily tell there was some frustration mixed in with that humour. "That--" Another chime nearly coincided with a sigh. "--makes five hundred and--" Chime and sigh. "--six, now." Liam did not expect the minister to be receiving these e-mails as well. "I'm glad--" The minister talked over the computer's repeated attempts at getting his attention. "--I don't get a notification when multiple e-mails arrive at almost the exact same time. You seem to have a lot of friends, Mr. Smith."

"Indeed. They are also rather protective of me. I assume you are now well aware of why I am calling?"

They were crossing the Spirits' lawn; both Liam and Ciaran twitched their ears toward the house and turned to it at the same time. It sounded as if someone were ransacking the kitchen. Liam could not smell anyone's scent near the house, and Ciaran indicated he could not, either. The Spirit stepped in front of the door and fished out what appeared to be a complex mechanical puzzle from a pocket; it was actually a set of tools useful in some less than honest activities.

Meanwhile, Minister Strickland answered Liam's question. "Somewhat, yes. You spoke to the principal of Prince Arthur Junior High near the end of last school year and convinced her to allow you to write all of the grade nine exams. Despite this being against policy, she agreed, you wrote, and you passed. Your previous teachers all agreed you were intelligent enough to easily handle the grade ten curriculum, though some expressed concern about your social_development. The school board took this under advisement and let the wager stand. However, you disputed the _one question you got wrong, yes? It was a fill-in-the-blank and you wrote an essay, from the sounds of it, and in the essay you said the correct answer was actually the wrong answer."

The front door opened. Liam slipped in and typed in the code for the security system. The noise of the lock picks and alarm had obviously warned the intruder, for the house was silent. Ciaran drew out two knives and silently dashed to the kitchen. Liam followed more slowly, acting as if he were just dropping by to check on the house. "That is the gist of it. The school board had sent the exam to various universities to get the history departments' assessments, and all found in my favour. I can only assume I have run afoul of some sort of religious bias in the teacher and principal. I do hope it was religious and not speciesist, despite a rather disturbing altercation I had over the phone with Marie Osmond's assistant."

The silence on the other end of the phone allowed Liam to scan the kitchen in peace. It was a mess. All of the cupboards had been emptied and their contents strewn everywhere, with flour covering the entirety of it. The fridge door was open, and the food lay tossed about the counters. Everything consumable looked to have been sampled by a mouse. Liam did not need to check the flour for tracks; he knew what he would find. Small boot prints, the sort that would be left by a_very_ pissed off Brownie. It would appear his or her patience had expired while waiting for the Spirits to leave some milk and bread out at night.

Liam's pupil had come to the same conclusion. Ciaran found the milk -- it had been hidden inside the breadbox -- and poured a small bowlful. He cleared a spot on the floor for it before searching for the bread.

Minister Strickland finally spoke. He sounded uncomfortable and concerned. "I hope it's neither and that everyone acted professionally. What, exactly, did the assistant say?"

Liam stepped gingerly through the thick flour to reach the landline phone on the counter. He dusted it off as best he could with his paw. "I quote, 'Don't overreach yourself, pup. The board has graciously given you a chance, and if you don't show up, that's your own problem.' End quote. While I don't normally take issue with being called a 'pup,' the intonation she used was clearly intended to insult, particularly when used in conjunction with the preceding words." He gestured to Ciaran and picked up the handset. Liam dialled Dirk's cell number and passed the phone to his pupil. Ciaran took it with a nod and resumed searching for the bread.

Minister Strickland sighed. "That certainly sounds unprofessional. Unfortunately, I don't have any say on who the elected members of the board hire as their assistants. Nor do I have any direct control over what they do. They're as independent from my office as a city council is from the provincial legislature."

Ignoring the muted conversation Ciaran had struck up with his great-nephew, Liam began returning the spoilable foodstuffs to the refrigerator. "I am aware of that. I have also learnt that 'control' can come in many forms, including through political pressure. Or through public pressure via the media. Unfortunately, public pressure is difficult to control and has a tendency to spill over to other individuals."

A mirthless chuckle preceded a most wry tone. "I've noticed you learnt that lesson at a very young age. Hao Chan of Chan Imports is currently on the phone with the premier. Mr. Chan called the premier after I said I was expecting a phone call from you shortly; he was quite concerned about you."

"He is one of those who are rather protective of me. You may note that I am quite well known in the Chinese community. I believe your party received a lot of support from the Chinese-Canadians in the last election. If I recall, Hao personally held a fundraiser for you; I am certain I saw a picture of you shaking his paw on the front of the Dakai Magazine." Liam paused a moment to let the inference sink in, if it needed to. "However, I prefer not_to delve into politics, but merely to receive a _fair hearing. A hearing that I am informed of more than twenty minutes before it is supposed to convene."

"Yes, you've learnt that lesson very well." Liam had learnt about political control millennia ago; he had been forced to practice what he learnt often since then. He heard the sound of keys jangling on the other end of the line, and Minister Strickland added, "I'm driving down to the school board's offices to talk to them in person."

Liam smiled. "That is pleasing to hear, Minister. On another subject, I would like to extend my personal invitation to the art auction at Dalhousie Collegiate on the sixth. I know Hao will be there, as will many other members of the Chinese-Canadian community, and I believe it would please them to see you in attendance."

The wry tone left Minister Strickland's voice, and the more jovial sound returned. "Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Smith. I'll be sure to make it." They exchanged farewells and hung up.

Ciaran returned the landline to its cradle; Liam could hear Nathanial, Dirk, and Conor downstairs. Liam's former student shook his head. "That sounded familiar. I can't begin to count the number of times you twisted some politician's arm to get red tape out of your way."

Liam snorted. "Lad, I wouldn't dream of trying to count, so I don't blame you_for not." He looked about at the mess, feeling _exceedingly grateful Nathanial had arrived. "Well, keep looking for the bread. Nathanial can get this flour cleaned up in seconds. I am uncertain what to do with the nibbled-upon food."

Nathanial tsked_when he opened the kitchen door. "What a mess. Even _Micah never managed to reach this level, though Nick did when he was looking for the grimoire in September." All of the flour gently took to the air and floated into the garbage.

Dirk chuckled and clapped Nathanial on the shoulder. "Well, that just saved over an hour's worth of work."

Ciaran nodded. "Yes, Draighean pulled a stunt like this when she was young -- with the flour, not everything else -- and we were still finding flour in nooks and crannies weeks later."

Conor shook his head wryly. "I think every pup does something similar. With Geoff, it was flour; he wanted to make Avery some pancakes. And with Faelen--"

Dirk growled. "Icing sugar. Icing sugar and water. He was trying to bake a cake for Geoff's third birthday. I had to manifest and use my bones to chip the results off the floor. I was tempted to call the alpha to see if the damned stuff counted as rock since it was so hard."

Liam laughed. "Lorie wrote about how Aedan got hungry one night and snuck into the kitchen to try to make scalloped potatoes. It sounded like it was easier to clean up than the sugar, but she said she got quite the fright when she found the matches in the middle of the wood bin and a pile of mangled potatoes around the hatchet. I can't even begin to image how Aedan got his paws on the hatchet. She was always extremely careful to keep anything sharp away from him." Liam shook his head ruefully. "The good thing about my pups' ages was that Aedan kept the other three mostly in line. Muireann made quite a few messes, but never in the kitchen or with sharp objects." Most of her_disasters were the results of tantrums and not attempts at helping. _'Ah, my poor, beautiful Muiry.'

Ciaran shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, Da." Liam waved him off; they had discussed all that needed to be discussed on that.

Nathanial had most of the cupboards restocked with the dishware and cookware. All incidental damage was also fixed. His ears were flat back and he glanced between Liam and Ciaran nervously. "I-I don't know Aoife v-very well, but I find it hard to believe sh-she never got into trouble like that."

Ciaran smiled wanly. "Not in the house, no. One of us three were usually around if Mama or Da wasn't, and I caught her on more than one occasion trying to sneak downstairs at night. I think that's why she spent so much time in the woods -- to get away from us." Ciaran stopped by the fridge. "I know you had some bread, Dirk, but I can't find it for the life of me."

Nathanial paused. "Oh! Found it! It's...upstairs."

That was rather vague, and Conor agreed. "That's very ambiguous, Nathanial. Where upstairs?"

The Akita ducked his head. "Um, where it isn't would be easier to answer. It's been crumbed and scattered everywhere." Specks of bread began drifting into the kitchen.

Between Conor, Dirk, Ciaran, and Liam, the 'tasted' food was soon gathered up. Conor looked it over. "Most of this can be salvaged, I think, just by cutting off the chewed parts. A Brownie's bite only makes a small area of the food bitter, and it's not actually poisonous." Dirk and Liam began doing so, while Ciaran bagged the food after. Conor rummaged through the untouched freezer and pulled out some homemade granola bars. "These are made with honey, right, Dirk?"

Dirk nodded. "Yeah. Do you think those will work as an apology?"

"It should. Brownies love honey. The stories insisting on a bread-only offering is mostly to ensure no meat is left out -- they're herbivores and take that as a dire insult -- but any grain, with or without nuts or fruit, is fine. If we had bread I would've left some of that out with honey on it."

Liam nodded in agreement. "That is true, but please note that processed sugar is also displeasing to a Brownie, as are most highly processed materials, such as milk chocolate or powdered milk. Any foods left for any Fey with those sorts of ingredients will cause...trouble."

Dirk looked at the bars warily. "And dark or semi-sweet chocolate?" Conor put the bars back in the freezer bag. "Ah. I think there are some without chocolate in a bag next to where those were." Conor switched bags.

Liam shrugged. "I am uncertain, but I agree with Conor that it would not do to test it. I do know that there are some sorts of chocolate that are highly sought by Brownies and some other goblin-kin."

Nathanial tipped his head to one side. The stream of crumbs still made their way downstairs. "I thought Brownies were a type of elf or gnome."

Liam rolled his eyes. "You may thank our ancestors for that. They were not the most..._precise_in naming things. Almost any anthropomorphic Fey without wings were called 'elves' if the speaker spoke a Germanic language, or 'goblins' if Latin-based. The need for distinction appeared to be completely lost on them. 'Gnome' is relatively new and not a recognised name outside of garden statuary."

Conor chimed in. "Many English-speaking members of the Hidden World now use 'goblin-kin' for the small, wingless Fey and reserve 'elf' for the noble Fey, like Micah's grandfather. Others call them High Elves." He shrugged. "It's usually easier to use other languages when talking about Fey."

Dirk took the knives Liam and Ciaran had used to wash them. "What was the delay anyway, Liam? We expected you back a long time ago."

"Unexpected events." Ciaran put the last bit of food away and glanced over, silently asking if this was to be kept secret. A couple subtle twitches answered back, 'Joke.'

Unfortunately, Nathanial appeared to take Liam's short answer as a serious desire to not discuss it. "Ah, u-um, I hope it wasn't a-anything bad." Again, the Akita's gaze flicked between Ciaran and Liam. Did he know what it was that Ciaran wished to discuss but seemed unable to voice?

It could not have been about Ciaran's earlier slip -- the one where he said he wished to make Lowell proud -- as he knew Lowell had been proud of him. Lowell had_always_ been very proud of his pupil; Ciaran may not have inherited Lowell's visible position in the clan or in the wider world, but he had inherited something far closer to Lowell's heart. He was the clan's silent defender, its unsung hero. He dealt with the threats before anyone even knew_there was a threat, and did more to keep the clan safe than all of the clan's warriors put together. Lowell had _explained_all this to his student: _'No one can know what you do for them, Ciaran, but_we _know, and that's enough. It's our duty, and that duty will sustain us far longer than shallow praise or accolades. I'm proud of you, Ciaran, and I always will be. This isn't an easy role to take, but it's incredibly important.'

Nathanial's gorgeous blue eyes filled with worry as the silence stretched on a touch too long. "I-It wasn't, was it?"

Liam rubbed his friend's arm. "No, Sweet One, no it wasn't. My apologies, I was just lost in thought for a moment, thinking of a dear student of whom I am -- and always have been -- proud." A bit of sadness flickered in Nathanial's eyes for a split second. Liam just could not figure out what it was he was missing. "I had a phone call and some unexpected company delay me. That is all."

Ciaran sighed. "I think Liam needs to work on his sense of humour, Da. That wasn't very funny."

"No. Unfortunately, Nathanial has forgotten how to play the game, despite being a master of dragging out a simple story for aggravatingly long times." Liam frowned at his now-sheepish friend. _"How_many suppers have you done that during? That time when you informed us of your job shadow with Sgt. Heimdolf comes to mind right away."

Nathanial clasped his tail with both paws. "I-I-I--"

Liam put his finger under Nathanial's chin to raise his head. "What in Lord Hades' name has you so worked up, Nathanial?" Liam glanced at Conor to see if he knew; Conor shook his head with a shrug. "Whatever it is, just inform me, and I shall do whatever I need to to resolve it. I am not just your healer; I am your_friend."_

Snow stepped into the kitchen. He whuffled to Nathanial and bumped his great head against the Akita. 'I am here, too, Alpha. Nathanial.' When did Snow begin using names? The massive entity pushed his head beneath Nathanial's arm so it rested across Snow's withers. 'Do you need stability? I'll stand here to give you support, if you do. I am your friend, just like the Ancient One.'

Nathanial turned and buried his face against Snow, wrapping his other arm around the thick neck in a hug. "Oh, you guys." Liam noticed a bit of extra sheen in Nathanial's eyes before they were hidden. "I-I'm fine. I j-just have this...feeling. Something is in th-the offing. Maybe. I w-woke up feeling like th-this, and it hasn't really gone a-away."

Liam was most tempted to write it off as anxiety, a state that most obviously troubled Nathanial with alarming frequency, but this was Nathanial. It would not do to dismiss anything about him, regardless of probability. "Then let us return to your home. We are done here. I will meditate and then spend a bit of time seeking answers from Master Apollo before preparing to cleanse your house."

Ciaran arched an eyebrow. "Do you think he'll answer, Da? He rarely did in your last life."

Liam shrugged. "Then what will we have lost? This may be an issue of chemical imbalance, or it may be a foretelling of great trouble. If Master Apollo gives an indication either way, then we will be able to act upon it; if he does not, then we are no worse off. The gods have already acted openly this week, which is more than they did during my life as Lowell." As expected, Nathanial looked most shamed at Liam stating his feelings may be 'mere' chemical imbalances, and remained pressed against Snow. Liam rubbed his finger beneath Nathanial's chin as best he could. "The body is governed by chemicals, and the brain is but one part of the body. The brain is just more difficult to treat because it is so poorly understood. There is no cause for shame."

Ciaran glanced back at Liam. "We'll have a busy day as it is, without seeking guidance from the gods. If we need to make any ofuda, then that alone will take a few hours."

Liam nodded. "I do not need any, but it would be prudent to have some in case of trouble. Sealing the room can be done with the relics; adding ofuda to that would render it impervious to anything short of a god." The Ancient One thought of that damned Lizard arm and how it so easily shattered the spell encasing it in the agents' office. Adding the ofuda may not be optional, after all. With all this work to cover 'just in case,' it would be almost a disappointment should nothing arise.

Dirk spoke up. "Nathanial, is the Brownie near? It seems rude to just leave the food out as an apology without saying anything." He hastily added, "I know Fey consider apologies to be empty platitudes."

Nathanial turned away from Snow, but left his arm across Snow's withers. "I-I don't know. I can't see him. Or her. They have some sort of invisibility spell going, but I can't see the spell patterns." His eyes lost focus. "Yes, they're near. I can see -- or not see, more accurately -- where they are. It's kind of like the anti-magic wards the Knights use; it leaves a blank spot to my senses." He frowned. "I wonder if I can teach myself how to see Fey magic."

Ciaran blinked in surprise; Liam did agree it sounded most peculiar, but he was beyond the point of disbelief or doubt. "How can you teach yourself to see anything? Wouldn't that be like saying you're going to teach yourself how to see infrared?"

Nathanial shrugged. "I don't really want to see infrared, so why would I try or say I was going to try? Before September, I couldn't see Mage magic at all, either. Now I can. I can sense someone using chi, and I can sense Demon magic, so it shouldn't be all that hard to just figure out how to expand my senses a bit more."

Liam shook his head. "Seeing chi would be...problematic, Nathanial. Ciaran's analogy of infrared would be most apt. All living creatures have life energy, of course, and I can sense it with varying degrees of ease. To see it would be..." How best to state it clearly? 'Overwhelming' may not be applicable to Nathanial. "...Cluttered. You would see the chi-lines within a person, much like electrical wires or blood vessels. You would also see the ambient glow of each person. I would call it an aura, but that word appears to have been co-opted by these 'New Age' individuals. In crowded spaces that could be--"

Nathanial cut in. "Yeah, I know. It'd be a lot of information. Seeing Demon magic would be much more useful, possibly even more than sensing Fey magic. I probably just need to study more of it to figure out the wavelength."

Liam felt pleased to see Nathanial was not so anxious, but he did not like that inference. Nicholas should not be using Demon magic at all, nor should Nathanial be associating with it, even at a step removed. He felt his chest rumble with a deep growl. "You should not be around anyone using _that,_Nathanial. To continue this light analogy, that foul magic would be most suited to ultraviolet. It causes a cancer to form within anyone using it. It burns all those exposed to it for any length of time. It is utterly destructive."

The Mage appeared to be caught up in his thoughts and ignored Liam. "Ciaran, you can see chi, can't you? How did you learn?"

Ciaran looked over at Liam questioningly; Liam sighed and just waved his paw to tell his pupil to go ahead. "I didn't, not really. When Da taught me how to focus my energy, I just began being able to sense it. Like how you seem to with Mage magic, my brain translated it as a visual input."

Liam did not bother continuing the lecture about Demon magic; Nathanial had seized upon a thought and would wrestle with it for some time. Indeed, the pup began pacing and tapping his muzzle in deep thought. Liam added to Ciaran's statement. "It is common. Sight is our primary sense, and we are used to processing the most important information visually. The difficult part in chi-training is to break that before it becomes too ingrained."

Nathanial stopped. "Oh?"

"Chi is not visible, nor is the..." Liam sighed and said the hated word, "...aura_it creates. _No, this is not an aura in the drug-addled, faux-historical, cultish--" Dirk cleared his throat, glancing at his wrist as if checking the time. "I mean 'aura' in the external manifestation of internal chi-flows. By allowing the brain to process the data visually, it opens you up to errors and to simple tricks if you fight other chi-adepts. It takes a long time to teach students to accept the information as it is -- a fully separate sense -- rather than what is convenient."

Nathanial tipped his head to one side. "Why haven't you been teaching me how to do that?"

"You do not sense chi, not as an adept does. I do not know what you sense, how you sense whatever it is, or understand what it is you do. You seem to be able to accept that your magic senses do not operate visually and do not ignore relevant data that falls beyond that."

Nathanial frowned and tapped his muzzle some more. A portal opened behind him and he walked through into his basement. Dirk paused to address the hidden Brownie. "We won't be back tonight, and we may not be back on Saturday, either, but someone will stop by to put more milk and bread out. We will be home on Sunday."

Nathanial paced back and forth across his basement. "Wavelengths. Frequencies." He trailed off, muttering to himself. Liam felt rather concerned; that pup was very intelligent and seemed to think on his own wavelength, coming to rather surprising conclusions.

The Ancient One shook his head before following Conor and Dirk through the portal and upstairs. Ciaran trailed behind. In the kitchen stood the Akita Liam sought.

"Garret." Garret looked up from the sink where he was in the midst of filling up the kettle. "I require some more items, but they are at the Hellenic temple." Liam took up a pad of paper and pencil that Nathanial kept by his kitchen computer. He wrote out the needed relics, and placed it on the counter. "I will be performing a sealing ritual on Lily's office after I get some strength back. I have the needed items for that, but I do not think I will have the strength to cleanse it and send her on at the moment. If you can obtain these before evening, it would be appreciated."

Garret took up the slip of paper and slid it into his wallet. "Sure. What was the problem?"

Liam was uncertain who that question was addressed to, but Conor answered. "An angry Brownie."

The Mage winced. "Ouch. I guess you'll need to go grocery shopping before Monday, then. How much did you lose?"

Dirk shook his head. "It wasn't too bad; most of the bites were at the ends of the food, and not in the middle. We could save a lot of it."

Garret appeared most surprised. "It isn't poisoned, then?"

Conor responded, "No, just bitter. It likely tastes similar to some poisonous berries, so the myth came about from that."

"Why do they do that, then? Why spoil so much food, potentially making their hosts starve?"

The Spirits looked around at each other, then at Liam. It appeared they did not know, either.

Liam answered their questions, spoken and unspoken. "They do not spoil it on purpose, nor is the mess created purely out of spite. They are starving. Brownies cannot steal -- not 'will not' but actually 'can not' -- and when left without food, they quickly become ravenous. They try to eat, but the magic of their nature causes the food to become bitter and uneatable. They are driven, even knowing it is futile. The resulting mess is one born from frustration. Do note that they cannot go without food as long as we can, either. Even a previously well-fed Brownie will starve to death well within a week of no food, but they are able to subsist on very little food if they know a shortage is coming." Conor and Dirk looked at each other, obviously feeling extremely guilty. Liam could say nothing to alleviate that; he knew that the Brownie had suffered terrible pain from its hunger. "Just give it warning if you will be away from home. It will ration its food until you return. As I said, they can subsist on very little. One of those bars you left could sustain it for a month quite comfortably, but it will eat it in one sitting if it has a chance to."

Garret shook his head. "Then why don't they keep an emergency supply of food around? It just seems like it'd make a lot of sense."

Liam arched an eyebrow. "Do you have an emergency supply of food in case of a hurricane or other calamity? You know there is easy access to food, so you do not plan for extended shortages. So it is with a Brownie. Their nature does not enable them to plan for possibilities, only what they believe to be certainties." Such was in _his_nature, however, and he had a great many possibilities he needed to prepare for. "Now, with your curiosity satisfied, and my request delivered, I have much work to do." Liam nodded to his pupil. "Ciaran, let us discuss the ofuda I will require, and then I shall attempt to recover some strength."

Ciaran bowed. "Yes, Da." The two assassins turned and padded down the stairs. Nathanial still paced the basement with eyes fixed on some puzzle within his head. Ciaran whispered to Liam, "Why do I feel nervous seeing him like that?"

"Because you cannot predict what will result from it. Nor can I. We are both trained to react to unexpected events, but we do not like them."

Nathanial stopped short. "Sound."

Ciaran bowed his head. "I'm sorry if we made too much noise."

The Akita blinked and jumped a little when he saw them. "Oh! U-Um, hi. No, you didn't, I was just thinking about something."

Liam's left hindpaw reflexively slid back a touch putting him in a more defensive posture. "Which was?"

Nathanial blinked again. "Um...sound?" Liam arched an eyebrow. Nathanial blushed. "Really. Both light and sound operate on wavelengths, as does all energy, it seems. Magic shouldn't be any different. If Mage magic is the only one I can currently see, but I can hear Demon magic and chi, then perhaps I should just build on what I have. I was looking at the detection grid the Investigators have, since it's something readily accessible that covers lots_of different magic types, to see how it does what it does. It works like a set of...tuning forks, I guess. It _vibrates when the applicable magic type reaches a certain threshold. Now, I just need to get some excuse to give it a good whack and listen to it. That might help me tune in to the right frequency, like those old analogue radios. If I can get a good reception, then I might get some picture along with the sound."

Liam should have expected something so unexpected. He did, actually, but it still surprised him. How...unorthodox could this pup get? "For some reason, I am inclined to believe that the Society would not appreciate you playing the xylophone with their spying devices."

"Errr...no. No, they wouldn't. Jay warned me about that. It'd be worse than me making crank calls to the emergency phone lines, or pulling a bunch of fire alarms in crowded theatres. I just need some reason to. If we find Gordon or something like that, then I sure as all the hells would, but he's really laying low."

Considering that everyone, including the Cabal and his foster parents, was hunting for him, that was a very wise move, and while Liam wanted to exterminate that infernal traitor himself, he would not risk letting Ahjee escape. "I agree. 'Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war.' Should we find him and his damned mistress, then sound all alarms throughout the lands." The suffering inflicted upon the Markses would not abate with their deaths, but justice would at least be visited upon them in the afterlife.

He felt the magic and the rage roar within Nathanial, and Ciaran's reactions said he did, too. Nathanial's voice carried all the warmth of the long Arctic night. "In this plane and beyond." Nathanial stormed past them into the gym, and soon the sound of a heavy bag being massacred filled the basement.