"Ten years I've been your student, and you still look the same, Teacher."

"That would be because I am still the same, your majesty," replied the Teacher, making a long, graceful bow.

"No, you never change." He walked back into the room from the bay of windows. "Please," he said, gesturing to a seat and settling into a great tufted leather chair himself. "You know why I've asked you to see me tonight."

"Yes," said the Teacher softly. "This is the night I am either saved or my heart breaks forever."

"I promise you that you know me," said Warin in a loud voice. "I am Warin, Prince of Tremont, eldest son of Gethin, and I have come back to take what's mine. Let me in." The captain drew his sword; his men followed suit, as did the Travelers. But Warin did not draw. Instead, he held his hands out to his sides. "Come close to me and tell me you don't know me. Tell me to my face I'm not who I say I am."

The captain approached warily, watching the Travelers for signs of ambush or falsehood. He looked in Warin's face, squinting. "You are very like him, I admit it. But it's been ten years since he's been seen here. How can I be sure?" Warin scanned the parapets until he saw a burning torch. He snatched a flame from it and formed it into a wand of light in his hand. "I've seen other nobles do that," said the captain uncomfortably.

Warin smiled grimly. "And this?" He spread his hands and the wand turned into a long staff. Warin spun it and struck the ground with one end. A wall of flames sprang up around the captain, who screamed in panic. Warin waved his hand; the flames died instantly, but he kept the staff in his hand.

Macca of Sairland stood up briefly in her stirrups, her gray eyes intent on the falcon wheeling overhead. Beside her, she felt Prince Ilhovin shift uncomfortably in his saddle. "What disturbs you, my lord?" she said, never taking her eyes from her bird.

"Disturbs me?" said Ilhovin, blinking. "Why would my lady say I'm disturbed?"

"You sit a horse very well, your highness," she said in her lilting accent.

"I thank you for the compliment," he laughed, "but does that shows an inner disturbance?"

"No," she said, sparing him an amused glance, "it shows you are well acquainted with the ways of animals, yes? A good rider can sense his mount's mood. It's an easy matter for one to use the same skills to sense the moods of those around him. Don't you? I do."

"Shall I attach significance to being compared to your mount, my lady?" said Ilhovin in a low voice, arching a brow.

"I read my dogs and my birds as well as my mounts," she answered crisply.