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“It’s all so simple.”

“Hm?” Toby turned his head to look inquisitively at Juniper, who had been mostly quiet since they’d re-entered Lor’naris.

“I finally put my finger on what’s been bugging me about the city,” she said quietly, her gaze straight ahead but unfocused. “Humans love straight lines and right angles so much, and I’ve been puzzling over it… I don’t see the benefit. I think I’ve figured it out, though. Lines and angles mean simple patterns. Patterns you can easily design and…and control.”

“Patterns?”

She nodded. “Everything is patterns; everything is mathematics, ultimately. Nature has no restraints on its complexity, though. So much in nature looks completely chaotic from any one, limited perspective… But it’s not. There’s always a pattern. A lot of it is fractal. And that’s what it all comes down to: simplicity, and control. Everything humans make is square because you can clearly see the whole pattern of square things. You master it by making it. There’s nothing in it to remind you of how tiny and insignificant you are in the grand scope of things.”

He walked along in silence for a moment, digesting this.

“Deep, man,” said Rook behind them. Moriarty let out one of his exasperated sighs.

“That’s…actually a kind of compelling theory,” Finchley mused. “My dad told me something similar, once.”

“We could go back to the park later,” Toby suggested, “or a different one? There are quite a few in the city. You didn’t get a chance to really explore…”

“Ugh. Parks.” Juniper actually shuddered. “Please, no. At least the city is honest about itself; it’s supposed to be all bricks and planks and flat surfaces. Seeing all those plants corralled into that… That pre-planned space… Trees in a park are no better off than eagles in a cage. They can’t be happy there, but they don’t know any other life. It’s depressing.”

He could find no answer to that, instead glancing reflexively around the street. Few people paid their group any attention, which was refreshing. All day as they’d strolled around the city, visiting spots he thought Juniper might find interesting, intent stares had followed them. Some of those were doubtless from the agents of Imperial Intelligence which were supposed to be keeping tabs on the dryad, but the attention was more than could be explained by this alone. He well understood the cause, and it made him uneasy.

They didn’t fit with any understood pattern. Some in the city might recognize his face, but he as casually dressed, and the monks of Omnu and the Universal Church had tried to limit access to him until he was grown and educated. Juniper, for her part, was just another pretty girl, albeit one who behaved a little oddly, and whose dress and shawl were constantly disheveled because she couldn’t stop tugging at them. But for such an otherwise unremarkable couple to be followed by Imperial soldiers was attention-getting, and the exact composition of their escort was worse for those who knew about such things. Three troopers was odd; escorts were almost always even in number. Plus, these were all privates, equal in rank and unsupervised by any officer, which was all but unheard of. Toby had considered asking them to wear civilian clothes in the future, but a day spent in Moriarty’s company had warned him off suggesting such a huge breach in regulations.

Among the rambunctious students of the University and the straightforward folk who inhabited Last Rock, he’d begun to let himself forget some of the things he liked least about life in the city. The nature of Tiraas was the same everywhere, from the meanest slum to the halls of the Palace itself, but growing up dividing his time between working and meditating with fellow monks and prowling the back streets with Gabriel, Toby had remained blissfully ignorant of politics—until Omnu decreed he should take a central role in the world’s events. Then, he’d been forced to learn quickly. Nobles, priests, the wealthy and the ambitious… They watched like hawks, latching onto anything they could use. Anything out of the ordinary was either a threat or an opportunity to them, sometimes both. Toby could hardly imagine what would happen when somebody tried to make use of Juniper in his or her schemes, but it wasn’t going to be pretty. Omnu grant that Tellwyrn would take them back to Last Rock before anything went that far…

“Home again, home again,” Rook said cheerfully, and Toby realized with a pang of guilt that the man had been talking the whole time he’d lapsed into rumination. He tried never to ignore anyone, but the more time he spent in Private Rook’s company, the easier it became to tune his prattle out. More than half of his jokes and commentary had been underhanded flirtation with the fairy they were escorting, and nearly all of it had gone right over her head. Toby was seriously considering suspending his policy of staying out of other people’s personal business, taking Rook aside and explaining that if he wanted to bed Juniper his best bet was just to ask nicely.

“Home again,” he agreed with some relief as they stepped into the common room of the relatively warm inn, nodding to the innkeeper, who grinned broadly in response. Tellwyrn—or, more likely, Tellwyrn’s gold—was apparently well-liked in this establishment. Hopefully that would help in smoothing over any trouble the students caused. Toby wasn’t quite optimistic enough to believe there’d be none.

Juniper, who for most of the day had been content to let herself be led around, now took the lead, climbing the stairs in silence. Her moods were hard to interpret, but she seemed troubled by something. That was bothersome, and not just because she was a friend. A troubled dryad in the heart of Tiraas could cause untold havoc. What could Tellwyrn have been thinking?

The others, with the exception of their professor, had already assembled in the top floor common area when they reached the top of the stairs.

“Hey, guys!” Ruda called, waving languidly. She sat sideways in an armchair with her knees over one arm and her head hanging off the other, her hat hung on a corner of the chair’s back. “Good timing, the boss lady just popped off to fetch us some dinner.”

“It’s a little early, isn’t it?” Toby said, ambling over to join Gabriel by the window.

“Bite your tongue,” Gabe said, grinning. “It is never too early, or too late, or too anything for a free meal.”

“What he said,” Rook agreed.

“How was your day?” Teal asked. “We haven’t seen any of you since this morning.”

“Well, it’s a big city,” Finchley noted. Juniper had seated herself in a chair and was frowning pensively at the far wall, again tugging at the collar of her dress.

“Pretty good, all things considered,” Toby said, smiling at Teal. “We mostly just walked around a bit, visited some of the sights. It seemed like a good way to show Juniper the city.”

“I tried to blend in,” the dryad said, finally lifting her gaze. “Lots of people were staring, though.”

“That probably wasn’t to do with you,” said Trissiny, frowning. “Men, starting tomorrow, this is to be considered discreet ops. Civilian attire only.”

“Yes, General,” Moriarty said with such obvious relief that Toby felt abashed. It had been arrogant to assume he was the only member of the group who’d spotted the problem.

“Thank you,” he said quietly to her. She glanced over and actually smiled momentarily, before her expression stilled and she sharply turned her stare back to the window.

Toby withheld a sigh. She would get over it, in time… But when? He missed their camaraderie. It wasn’t just that he authentically liked Trissiny, or that she was the only fellow paladin in the world. She hadn’t been wrong; they did make excellent counterpoints to each other in many ways. It was nobody’s fault they’d never be able to do so in the way she wanted.

“Ah, good!” Professor Tellwyrn said, appearing at the head of the stairs. “Everyone’s finally here; we can proceed. Clear a space, please.”

As everybody shuffled back from the low table in the middle of the room, she gesticulated casually at it, and suddenly the lounge was filled with spicy aromas as steaming platters of food appeared, with a neat stack of plates and utensils on one end.

“Oh, hell yes!” Ruda crowed, surging to her feet. “You beautiful freak, I could kiss you!”

“Strictly prohibited by campus policy,” Tellwyrn said, smiling faintly. “And I wasn’t pandering to your sensibilities, Zaruda. Puna Dara curry is just the thing to cut the chill of a Tiraan winter. You’ll note the pitcher of milk: that’s a consideration for the more than half of you whom I expect to be unequal to the spice. Dig in, everybody. Oh, for the… Neatly! Form a line, people. Omnu’s breath, it’s like you’ve never seen food before.”

Tellwyrn evidently wasn’t hungry; she hung back near the windows, smiling faintly and making acerbic observations about people’s table manners while they gathered up plates of food in cheerful disorder. The cuisine ran heavily to fish, but was unfamiliar to most of them, and the act of dishing up noodles, meat and steamed vegetables cut in exotic configurations wrought some confusion. Tellwyrn had provided both forks and the traditional chopsticks; Ruda was the only one who selected a pair of the latter. As they got down to eating, the milk did, indeed, become quite popular.

“All right,” the professor said finally once everyone was dutifully tucking in, “there’s been a change of plans that concerns you. Our stay in Tiraas will be extended by a few days, I’m not sure how much exactly. That being the case, I’ve popped back to Last Rock to collect assignments from you from your other professors. This was an unscheduled trip in the first place, and occurring as it does so early in the semester, you run the risk of being put behind if you don’t get some coursework in. Some have left lecture notes for you,” she said, producing a disconcertingly thick bundle of papers from thin air, “but most are reading assignments. You’ll have to acquire the books yourselves, but there are no shortage of Nemitite libraries in this city, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Toby had felt a sinking sensation at her first pronouncement, and now glanced furtively at Juniper, who was chewing a mouthful of fish and looking uncharacteristically morose. He hadn’t realized until this moment just how concerned he was. She’d done nothing aggressive so far, not even hinted at hostility, but he couldn’t escape the feeling that the longer the dryad remained in the city, the closer they came to a real problem.

“Why the extension?” Gabriel asked, fanning his face. He was flushed from the curry.

“My appointment in Tiraas has turned into a somewhat more complicated quest,” she said. “The details don’t concern you, but I will need to visit Onkawa for a few days. You lot will remain here, tend to your work and proceed with what you were doing. I’m satisfied with your progress so far.”

“What progress?” Trissiny exclaimed, but was quickly shouted down by her roommate.

“Bullshit!” Ruda declared, pointing her chopsticks accusingly at Tellwyrn. “Why the fuck do we have to stay here in Slizzle City while you run off to bask in the capital of fucking sunshine?”

“Slizzle?” Gabriel said, raising his eyebrows.

“Combination of sleet and drizzle,” Tellwyrn said cheerfully. “I got it. Nice wordplay, Punaji.”

“Fuck you! Why can’t we come to Onkawa too?”

“Because your assignment is here,” the Professor said with implacable calm. “You are making good strides and the last thing I want is to disrupt your progress.”

“What progress?!” Trissiny demanded.

“All in good time,” said Tellwyrn with an enigmatic smile. “Explaining it would defeat the purpose. Suffice it to say, you’re doing just as I anticipated so far, and I have no doubt that you will absorb the relevant lesson by the time we’re done here. Now, then! The situation being what it is, we’re going to have a little lesson of our own while we’re here and before I have to leave in the morning. Everybody comfortable? Splendid. Boys, you can stick around; congratulations on getting to audit a lecture at my very exclusive University. People would kill for this opportunity.”

“I will bet ten doubloons that no one has ever killed for the chance to audit one of your lectures,” said Rook.

“Perhaps not, but people have paid a lot more than ten doubloons.”

“People such as all of us, for example,” Ruda grumbled.

“Not all,” said Gabriel with a grin. “Some of us earned scholarships.”

“Arquin, do you want me to come over there?”

“Flirt on your own time, kids,” Tellwyrn said brusquely, then pressed on while both of them stammered in incoherent outrage. “Class is now in session. Previously we were discussing the gods, their nature and origin. The focus of this class being what it is, the reason for covering this topic is obviously to keep in mind the impact the gods have had on the progress of history. What we went over in the last class was merely background; what remains is to cover the way in which gods impact the course of societies and nations. Their subtler workings, in short.

“Previously we discussed weaknesses of gods, ways in which their natures can be used against them, used to manipulate them and circumvent their behavior. In this class we will discuss the context in which that is applicable: the broader, subtler influence the gods have on the world. Dealing with them in person is another matter. A god incarnated into physical form is a thing in a class unto itself. It has been eight millennia since the last apotheosis; while there once were deities of all types and degrees of power, by this point the weaker ones have long since been picked off. Any extant deity, once before you in the flesh, as it were, has full agency and sufficient power to decisively overwhelm any other type of force which is currently known to exist. If you set yourself against a god and don’t manage to head him or her off before they arrive in front of you…you lose.”

“What’s the difference between subtle and more direct workings, then?” Teal asked.

“I was just coming to that very subject. Since you asked, Miss Falconer, let me reply with a question: How was your day?”

Teal blinked at her, then looked over at Shaeine, who shrugged. “Uh…fine?”

“Falconer, I should think that by now you know me well enough to realize I have no interest in pleasantries, especially not during class. I was asking for information. You have spent the day walking around Tiraas, with your hair hacked short, dressed in men’s clothing and in the company of another young woman. Tell me, what sort of reactions did you get to that?”

Teal’s face closed down. “I don’t know. I don’t bother to notice them anymore.”

“Really?” Tellwyrn said sardonically. “Impressive self-restraint.”

“It wasn’t really optional,” Teal said sharply. “Vadrieny doesn’t have much of a sense of humor about it. I barely stopped her from killing the girl who used to bully me as a kid.”

“I see. Fair enough, then. Miss Awarrion, you are keenly attuned to the responses of others. Tell me, did you notice any hostility toward the two of you on your outing today?”

“Nothing overt,” Shaeine said, calm as always. “A number of individuals seemed displeased to see us, but I assumed the response was to the presence of a drow. We were not harassed or accosted.”

“Well, let me put it another way.” Tellwyrn leaned back slightly, glancing around the room. “Does anyone doubt that there was an adverse social reaction to Teal walking around the city quite visibly being gay as a solstice tree?”

“Is there a point to this?” Teal demanded, with more of a bite in her tone.

“I don’t pick on people because their suffering amuses me, Falconer. Not students, anyway. You’ve all encountered the attitudes of which I speak.” She began to pace up and down, as she usually did when she got well into a lecture, though the little lounge didn’t provide her nearly as much space as her classroom. “A woman’s place is in the kitchen. Boys kiss girls and vice versa, and anyone who says differently is an aberration. Why should this be so? A mere few blocks from us is the greatest concentration of Avenist power outside of Viridill itself. Not far from that is the central temple of Izara, who resolutely teaches that all love is good. Indeed, Teal and Shaeine weren’t overtly pestered; the city of Tiraas is probably one of the more accepting places in the Empire for two women strolling hand-in-hand. But throughout the Empire itself, these attitudes prevail. How can this be?”

“Well…based on context, I’d say you’re talking about the influence of the gods,” said Fross.

“Obviously, yes. In this case…?” She trailed off, peering around expectantly.

“Shaath,” said Gabriel after a moment.

“Interesting,” Tellwyrn mused. “Now what would make you think of him?”

“Well…he’s the most obvious culprit for the kind of social attitudes you’re talking about. Sort of infamous for it, actually.”

“Indeed. And yet, Shaathism is far from a majority faith. The lodge in Tiraas itself is little more than an afterthought, a glorified drinking hall. The actual cult of Shaath has never been large, and its areas of direct political influence are by definition on the outer fringes of the civilized world. How could such a deity possibly promote his worldview to the point that it seriously challenges that of Avei, one of the primary gods of the Pantheon?”

“Which one is Shaath?” Juniper asked.

“He’s the god of the wild,” said Toby. “The patron of hunters, explorers…” His eyes widened. “…and pioneers.”

Tellwyrn pointed at him, nodding in approbation. “Yes. Go on, Mr. Caine.”

“And…pioneers are kind of huge right now. The Empire’s putting enormous effort and resources into settling the frontier regions in the Great Plains. Popular fiction is full of cowboys and elves.”

“Precisely.” She clapped her hands and then rubbed them together, grinning. “In fact, Shaath and Avei have been doing this dance since time immemorial. You can tell at a glance whether a given society is in an expansionist phase, and how it is conducting that expansion, by observing how it treats women and anyone who lies outside the heterosexual norm.”

“To call that a ‘norm’ is counter—”

“Yes, Avelea, we all know you’re a feminist. At this point, you can just assume we all know, and refrain from harping on it every chance you get. Anyway. We have already discussed how an idea, a concept, a set of principles, is central to the very identity of a god. It naturally follows that they do their best to promote these ideas, but it is also important how the ideas promote them. The ascendance of Shaathist philosophy in cultures with minimal Shaathist belief is a prime example. Where one part of the god’s aspect—reverence for the wilderness and those who make their lives in it—is ascendant, other parts—such as a patriarchal approach to societal organization—ascend as well. In some cases, the distinction blurs, because most gods have fairly coherent identities and the concepts they embody are naturally associated. Shaathism is a good example precisely because patriarchy has nothing to do with the frontier spirit except in his cult. Seeing the connection play itself out in society is unmistakably seeing his influence at work. That, students, is the subtle influence of the gods. It’s not in bolts of lightning or divine visitations; those are things I could do, and have done. The gods slowly, imperceptibly, gently twist the very world around us on an incomprehensibly vast scale.”

“Well, that’s not terrifying or anything,” Gabriel muttered.

“Mr. Arquin, if you’re not afraid of the gods, you’re a fool. I am not referring to your ancestry, either. These are beings of truly awesome scope and power. That they can be outmaneuvered, that they can even be killed, does not change this fact. They are not lightly to be challenged, for the same reason that hurricanes are not.”

“So… You talked about manipulating the gods,” said Fross. “Can you do that with their, y’know, ideas? Try to change societies by promoting one god? Or vice versa?”

“The attempt to change society by promoting a given god is a large part of what religion is,” Tellwyrn pointed out. “But yes, I do know what you’re referring to; it’s known as ‘the impossible arithmetic’ by scholars. Measuring and taking advantage of the social influence of deities on a smaller scale is something on a par with astrology in terms of the sheer silliness of the effort. Which is not to say that people don’t try to do it.”

“What, you don’t believe in astrology?” Ruda asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of wizard?”

“There are two common fallacies when it comes to astrology,” said Tellwyrn. “One is that the position of heavenly bodies has no influence on life on this world, and the other is that they have a strong enough influence to be discernible. In practice, astrology is relevant in certain kinds of ritual spellcasting and almost nothing else. The influences are there, and they are real, but they are effortlessly overwhelmed by mundane, terrestrial concerns. So it is with the subtler workings of the gods, in general. Indeed, only on the scale of civilizations the size of the Tiraan Empire are such movements even observable, and that without any great deal of precision. Attempts are made to calculate these considerations for short-term political gain, but frankly, if you’re going to try to use a god’s influence for your own benefit, you’re better off just going to temple services.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Trissiny said. “First you say the gods are powerful beings in person, who can overwhelm just about any force. Then you say their broader influence is so subtle it might as well not be there except in the very long term.”

“A good point, Avelea, and precisely the concern which will concern our explorations in this semester’s classes. We have discussed how Shaathist philosophy is currently predominant throughout the Empire; that era is coming to an end, however. Even now, the Rails are being upgraded, the Empire has all but secured the frontiers around the Golden Sea and the Deep Wild, allied with Tar’naris and effectively sealed the other two drow city-states in their own tunnels. The Age of Adventures is long acknowledged to be over, and its brief resurgence in the form of cowboy culture is soon to peter out. Soon enough, the lands occupied by people will be largely settled, and everyone will then turn themselves toward more civilized concerns—such as, for example, justice and war. Another age of Avei will rise. And the scale on which these things happen is so vast and so ponderously slow that in any remotely detailed survey of history, it is hardly worth considering.”

She smiled, looking pleased with herself. “What matters to us, as we study history, is the point where these two aspects of divine being intersect. The gods are forces, and they are individuals, and those two things interact. Not one of them is unintelligent, or unmotivated. As long as they’ve been at it, they have perfected the art of exerting just the right amount of force in just the right place to start events moving in the direction they want. Frequently, too, they find themselves at cross purposes; Avei and Shaath are far from the only two who have strong differences of opinion about how the world should be run. This is why the various cults are constantly scheming against each other, and why the formation of the Universal Church is such an astonishing achievement. I grouse about the Church, and for good reason, but the fact that it does as well as it does at keeping the cults in line and at peace is really incredible.”

Tellwyrn began pacing again. “A prime example of what I mean was in the peaceful annexation of Madouris by Tiraas seven centuries ago, and the Eighty Year War which immediately preceded it…”

“Four?” Darling said in surprise. “Already? Damn. It’s just been one day. I was expecting to be at this for weeks before we got so much as a nibble.”

“If your Grace is feeling overstimulated, there is plenty of time yet to be bored,” said Price calmly, still holding out the four telescroll envelopes on a silver tray. “As I’m sure I need not remind your Grace, these represent less than a third of the overtures sent out.”

He snatched the envelopes. “How many of them are interested? I assume you read these.”

“Indeed, your Grace, I took the liberty. All four acquiesce to your request. In fact, they appear rather eager to meet at your earliest convenience.”

“Four,” he mused, tugging papers out of envelopes and grinning as he beheld the names on each one. “No…five, counting Mary. Hm. Yes, I do believe this is enough to start with. Yes, this is actually a pretty solid group, decent balance of skills. Send out a batch of replies, Price; they’ll get their meeting. Oh, and put the scarecrow up on the roof again.”

Price looked pained, which he knew was deliberate. “If your Grace insists. When shall I schedule the meeting?”

“Let’s not waste any time; the gods only know what Khadizroth is doing while we dilly around. Set it up for tomorrow.”

She cleared her throat pointedly. “Regardless of these individuals’ apparent eagerness to meet, and the convenience of Rail travel, tomorrow morning is too soon to be feasible. Tomorrow night your Grace has consented to attend the gala at General Panissar’s house.”

“Oh, right. That.” Darling made a face. “That man throws the dullest parties… But the Emperor might come. Bugger, I really can’t afford to miss it… All right, the next day, then. First thing!”

“May I remind your Grace that none of these people is Arachne Tellwyrn. At least one is known to be even more prickly, and at least one other is prone to drinking heavily on a nightly basis. Proposing a breakfast meeting may be seen as…antagonistic.”

“Fine, fine,” he said impatiently. “In your finely-tuned social opinion, would lunch be appropriate?”

“Perhaps an hour before,” she said calmly. “To convey urgency, acknowledge the importance of their time and leave them the opportunity to make their own plans? We should offer them a meal and be prepared to provide it… But following your Grace’s proposal, it is likely they will want time to consider and discuss their options. These are people unaccustomed to answering to any supervisor. Granting their space will be paramount in keeping their interest.”

“Do what you think is best,” he said, striding around behind his desk and plopping down in the chair. “I do mean that, Price, I’m relying on your judgment. Keep me in the loop with your plans, but… We are not going to regard this as a trial run. We need to hook these people.” Darling set the papers down on the desktop and stabbed them with a fingertip for emphasis. “We’re not gonna get a better lineup. These are the ones I want.”

“Even aiming for late morning,” she replied, “this may prove…uncomfortable…for your Grace, given the party which is to take place the night before.”

“The boring party,” he said dismissively. “I don’t plan to be there late, and even if something interesting happens… Well, just have the coffee ready.” He spread out the four telescrolls, grinning fiendishly. “This is just too perfect. Mary the Crow, Gravestone Weaver, Tinker Billie, Longshot McGraw and the Sarasio Kid. If I can point these guys at Khadizroth, this is as good as over.”

Price made a subtle expression with her mouth that was far too proper to be either a grimace or a wince, but nonetheless conveyed her disapproval. “I trust your Grace is indulging in hyperbole, and need not be reminded that nothing is ever so quickly or neatly dealt with.”

“Well, of course,” he said, grinning. “Are you kidding me? I’m about to set fire to the barn, here. What matters is it’s his barn, and not mine.”

“I fervently hope your Grace is correct on that point.”

“Yeah.” He lowered his gaze to the slips of stiff, yellow paper, each bearing a terse message and the watermark of the Imperial scroll service. “Yeah, me too.”

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“Home, sweet home,” Gabriel groaned, carelessly heaving his suitcase through the open door of the first room he came to.

Tellwyrn had rented the entire top floor of an inn, giving the students a pretty comfortably-sized living space. In fact, there were four rooms surrounding a lounge area which contained a table and wooden chairs, as well as the stairwell to the three floors below. It was well-lit, the fairy lamps old and flickering, but the space dominated by a large bank of windows.

In fact, everything was old. The woodwork was pitted and scarred, the furniture ramshackle, the rug little more than a pancake of cobwebs with fond memories of having been dyed. One of the widows was, in fact, a board, and one of the others a pane of wavy, frosted glass that admitted light but didn’t provide much of a view.

“You’ll have to shuffle the room arrangements a bit,” Tellwyrn said brightly, standing with her back to the windows. It was still early enough—and cloudy enough—that the daylight framing her wasn’t adequate to cast her face in shadow. In fact, it was barely adequate for dramatic effect. “At least two of the privates will need to room with Juniper—”

“I bet all the privates would like to—”

“You can be vulgar on your own time, Miss Punaji. I am speaking.” Glaring at them over her glasses, she continued. “A certain amount of hanky-panky is to be expected. I don’t particularly care about that. Just be cognizant that there are people on the floors below you and try not to act like caricatures of college students. I don’t recommend advertizing your identities, but these things have a way of getting out. Some of you are rather distinctive.”

“If you don’t care about hanky-panky,” Teal asked, stifling a yawn, “why is Clarke Tower bespelled to keep boys out?”

“Kids,” said Tellwyrn solemnly, “in the course of my three-thousand-year career, I have traversed every continent, explored the Underworld as far as Scyllithar itself, spent years in the Deep Wild and ascended to the very edge of the atmosphere. I’ve fought in wars, started wars and ended them; I have met, befriended and battled gods, dragons, demons and monsters for which you know no description. I have mastered magics and fighting styles that each demand lifetimes of study, founded cities which are now only dust and memory, and in general participated in such adventures that my memoirs, should I ever get around to writing them, would effectively re-shape history itself. My very name is synonymous with chaos and belligerence. For all that, I know my limitations, and one task I am not foolhardy enough to undertake is to prevent a bunch of teenagers from going at each other like bunnies the moment my back is turned.”

“How,” Gabriel asked in awe, “can you be so talkative this early in the morning?”

“Clarke Tower is bespelled—as is the boys’ barracks, by the way—to minimize the chances of somebody ending up accidentally pregnant. Considering the political status of many of my students, that’s a scandal that could resonate across the Empire and beyond. The hope is that if you have to make plans and arrangements to play hide-the-wand, one or the other participant will remember to take some basic precautions. I do not care in the slightest if matching pairs of genitals are rubbed together in any configuration, and I’ve seen enough of you lot interacting with each other at this point that I know nobody here is going to get the wrong kind of lucky. So! Room where you like.”

“Wow,” Trissiny managed.

“Anyhow!” Tellwyrn produced a gold pocket watch and consulted it. “I have a breakfast appointment, which was the whole purpose of this excursion, so I’ll leave you to it and check back in this afternoon.”

“Wait!” Toby said as she started for the stairs. “What are we supposed to be doing? What’s our assignment for this trip?”

“You had to remind her,” Gabe muttered.

“Ah, yes. That.” The Professor smiled disarmingly. “The first part of your assignment is to figure out what your assignment is. Best of luck! As a personal favor, though, do try not to burn the place down; I like this inn. Cheerio!”

She bounded down the steps four at a time, her footfalls making barely a sound.

“I’m just a little bit in love with her,” Rook admitted after a moment.

“You, sir, are a weirdo,” Gabriel informed him.

“Gods, you have no idea,” Moriarty muttered.

“What I need,” said Ruda, “is to figure out how to tell when she’s fucking with us as part of one of her bullshit secret tests, and when she’s fucking with us just to fuck with us.”

“I believe there are elements of both in most if not all of her actions,” said Shaeine.

“Probably. Anyhow, speaking of you, I’m a bit sleep-deprived so I might’ve been hallucinating, but did anybody else notice that like half the people outside on the street were drow?”

“We’re in Lor’naris,” Gabriel explained.

“Uh huh. And what’s that mean when translated into words?”

“Actually, it’s called a lot of things,” he added, pausing to yawn. “It’s got one of those boring district designations I don’t even remember, but the main avenue is Firousi Street. Lor’naris is a newer nickname, from the last few years when all the drow who apparently don’t like living in Tar’naris moved in here. Most of the city calls it Freak Avenue.”

“Do they indeed?” Shaeine said quietly.

“Hey, I’m relaying information here,” Gabriel said, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “As a long-time resident of the city. This district has always been a gathering place for people who don’t fit in elsewhere. Most of the non-humans and halfbloods and such, except the dwarves, who have their own district. I used to come here a lot when I was a kid, before my dad made me promise to stop. From what I understand, it’s actually a much nicer place since the Narisians basically took over the district.”

“Narisians are great at keeping things orderly,” Teal said, glancing at Shaeine. They exchanged a little smile and shifted their hands together, not clasping fingers, but lightly touching.

“Ugh,” Ruda groaned, “I insist that you two not be so adorable before breakfast. You’re gonna put me off my whiskey.”

“Sorry,” Teal said, grinning unrepentantly.

“Oh, don’t be so grumpy just because you’re pent-up, Ruda,” Juniper admonished.

“Allow me to hastily change the subject,” said Gabriel. “As usual, we don’t know what the hell Tellwyrn’s expecting us to do…”

“Oh!” Fross chimed, buzzing around the ceiling in a circle. “But if she put us here, there’s a good chance it’s drow-related!”

“That’s a logical conclusion,” Trissiny agreed, nodding. “So…any ideas where to start?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one.” Ruda yawned hugely. “With a fuckin’ nap.”

“I’m with her,” Gabe said firmly. “Wait, I mean… I agree with that. I’m not with her, in a bed sense. Not that you’re not pretty, Ruda! It’s just I’d rather not be stabbed again. I mean, not that—”

“Gabe.” Toby laid a hand firmly on his shoulder. “Stop talking.”

“…maybe that’d be best, yeah.”

“You can’t seriously want to sleep,” Trissiny complained. “We’ve just arrived in the capital of the Empire! And it sounds to me like we’re in one of the most interesting districts.”

“Yeah, and it’s probably not gonna burn down while we get the rest of the fucking night’s sleep Tellwyrn was in too much of a hurry to let us have,” Ruda said, turning toward another of the room doors. “Nighty-fuckin’ night, guys.”

“Perhaps some additional rest would not be amiss,” Shaeine agreed. “Especially if we are to be at our best when exploring the district.”

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” Juniper said decisively. “Boys in that room. You three guys can split between my room and Gabe and Toby’s, however you want. Fross, Ruda and Triss can room together, and that leaves the smallest one for Shaeine and Teal.”

“Wait, how come they get their own, oh, uh, nevermind.” Finchley trailed off, blushing. Teal blushed even harder, but Shaeine smiled slightly. There was something vaguely smug about it, unlike her usual little meaningless smiles. She’d been doing that a lot since coming back from break.

“I’ll help you unpack!” Fross declared, zooming into the room after Ruda.

“I can’t believe this,” Trissiny said aloud, standing still while the others shuffled off into their various rooms. “Nobody wants to explore? How much sleep do you all need?”

Toby cleared his throat softly. He was the last person aside from her left in the lounge. “I’m pretty well rested. If you want to go have a look around the area, I’m game.”

She gave him a long look, clenching her jaw.

“On second thought,” she said tightly, “maybe a little more rest wouldn’t hurt.” Trissiny turned and stalked into the room after Ruda and Fross, shutting the scratched old door with more force than it deserved.

As Toby stood there, staring at the door, a soft pattering sound began, and quickly swelled. In moments, sleet was peppering the windows. He stared out at the gloomy weather and heaved a sigh.

“It’s gonna be a long trip.”

Sleet flowed around her, deflected by the invisible shield of heated air she kept over her head. Tellwyrn had toyed with the notion of vaporizing it from the sidewalks in front of her, too, but had decided that would have been purely self-indulgent. Even the umbrella verged on too much; she had suffered much worse than cold and damp, and could have dried herself of within seconds of being back indoors, but she really didn’t feel like getting iced down this early in the morning. Walking on the slippery mess was no imposition to one blessed with elven agility, in any case.

She was the only person out and about, which might be typical for the hour, but in this case was undoubtedly due to the weather. It was a lovely neighborhood, a long double row of towering old brownstone townhouses, crammed closely together but each behind its narrow little garden. The gentle curve of the avenue, parallel to the city’s outer wall, meant the end of the street was always out of sight around a permanent bend, which was a nice trick by some city planner to ensure the fat cats who lived here wouldn’t have to see the hoi polloi in neighboring districts when looking up and down their own street. Every so often, at artfully irregular intervals, a building plot had been left, holding a small slice of park or a monument instead of a townhouse, serving to break up up the monotony.

It was actually rather peaceful. If one endured the cold and had some protection, the sound of the sleet was soothing, and trees, iron fences and eaves were taking on a surreal beauty as they were gradually encased in ice.

Thanks to discreet but clear street numbers, finding her destination was simplicity itself—luckily. There were places in this old city where one’s only hope for locating a specific home was getting very clear directions from someone in the know. Tellwyrn pushed through the unlocked gate, crossed the ice-soaked garden in three long strides and stepped into the shelter of the tiny porch.

She had barely tugged the bell rope when the door was pulled open, revealing a lean young woman in a Butler’s traditional suit.

“Good morning, Professor Tellwyrn,” she said crisply, stepping back and bowing. “Please, come in. You are expected.”

“I should hope so,” she replied, stepping inside. The Butler shut the door and cast a rapid glance over her; Tellwyrn could almost see her customary courtesies being frustrated. A guest who had just been out in an ice storm, yet wasn’t so much as damp and had no outer garment to take, must have been somewhat disconcerting. Her composure, of course, didn’t so much as flicker.

“His Grace awaits you in the dining room,” she said diffidently. “Breakfast will be served immediately. If you would follow me?”

Tellwyrn trailed after the girl, peering critically about. This place could have been lifted straight from a magazine illustration. The décor, the art, the furnishings… Its immaculate condition testified to the Butler’s touch, but nothing here evinced the slightest speck of personality. She knew a front when she saw one. Of course, given who occupied this house, that made perfect sense. The only unique thing about the Bishop’s residence was the low light. Even for this hour, it was dim; fairy lamps were present in abundance, but only one in the hallway was lit, and at a minimal level. This guy was comfortable working in the dark, then—which also made sense.

The dining room was more of the same: expensively but tastefully decorated, and as blandly impersonal as a museum display. Tellwyrn gave it scarcely a glance, fixing her attention on the man who rose from the table to greet her.

“Professor,” he said warmly, striding forward and taking her hand in both of his own. “I so appreciate you taking the time to visit me—really, it’s too generous. And in this hideous weather! I’d have taken no offense at all had you wanted to reschedule.”

“I never allow the weather to change my plans,” she said. “That just encourages it.”

He grinned with actual humor. Bishop Darling was a man to whom she’d not likely have given a second glance if she passed him on the street—which was probably the exact effect he was going for. A lean, fit man in his thirties, he was of average height, blue-eyed, his blonde hair just long enough to have been styled in a foppishly wavy coif. His suit was casual, but tailored and clearly expensive.

“Please, please, sit!” he said, ushering her to a chair and holding it gallantly for her. “Let’s get some hot tea into you. Price will have breakfast out in a jiffy.”

“Thank you,” she said evenly, watching him like a hawk as he strode around to seat himself opposite her. “Food can wait, however. I was offered a bribe for coming out here, I believe.”

“Ah, yes, of course. Price?”

The Butler stepped forward, holding out an antique-looking flat jewelry box, which she opened and extended to Tellwyrn. Within, on a cushion of black velvet, sat an incongruously cheap-looking necklace. Attached to a simple silver chain, it consisted of nothing but a few carved wooden beads, the largest of which was bound by a twist of silver wire to a lock of golden hair.

Tellwyrn very carefully lifted the charm from within the box, mindful of its great age. It wasn’t at all fragile, however; the enchantment on it was minor by modern standards, but sufficient to have protected it from the passage of time. She simply held it for long minutes, staring at it, lost in memory. The Butler stepped back, allowing her space; Darling held his peace.

Finally, she shook herself slightly, rousing from her reverie, and carefully tucked the necklace into her vest pocket, just over her heart.

“Well,” she said, turning a piercing look on the Bishop, “considering whose priest you are, I suppose there’s no need to ask how you acquired this. I would very much like to know from whom you took it, though. I’m quite curious where it’s been all these centuries.”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything about its journey,” he said, spreading his hands apologetically. He seemed completely unperturbed by her stare, which was the one she used to control classrooms full of the Empire’s most dangerous teenagers. This fellow, clearly, had mastered the art of restraint, for all his apparently warm demeanor. “Except that most recently, Mary the Crow had it.”

Tellwyrn raised her eyebrows sharply. “You stole from the Crow? You surprise me, Bishop Darling. I didn’t come here expecting to be impressed.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be a hell of a thing,” he said wistfully, as Price began laying out plates and serving scones. “They’d remember my name in the same breath as Foxpaw’s… But no, nothing so dramatic, I’m afraid. I recently asked for Mary’s input on a little problem I’m having. She demurred, pleading ignorance, but then nominated you as the leading expert on the matter. Then gave me that, said it was certain to get your attention.”

“I see. Well, this was worth the trip, to me, and entitles you to a few minutes of my time. So now we come to it. What would this ‘little problem’ be?”

He folded his hands on the table, for the moment ignoring his scone. “Khadizroth the Green.”

Tellwyrn raised an eyebrow. “And what business, exactly, do you have with Khadizroth?”

“Oh, none, I assure you. In fact I’d like nothing better than for him to simply go away and forget about me.”

“That’s wise,” she said, nodding approvingly. “I gather he has business with you, then. This should be a good story.”

“A fairly short one, though some of it might be news to you. Are you familiar with the Cobalt Dawn tribe?”

“I’m aware of them…or perhaps I should say I was. They make a convenient cautionary tale for my history class.”

“Well, it turns out a handful of them survived their attack on the Empire.”

“Oh, don’t tell me,” she groaned. “Khadizroth took them under his wing.”

Darling nodded. “What’s alarming is what he intended to do with them. He specifically rescued the children, and was having them raised with himself as their primary caregiver and role model. Once they were old enough, he intended to use the females to…produce more dragons. A lot of them. Ultimately, his plan was to have a force with which to challenge the Empire.”

Tellwyrn stared. “That’s…actually rather brilliant. Elves aren’t the most fertile race, but there are ways around that. Gods, if he could manage to produce just a dozen adolescent dragons, with him leading them… It would take multiple deities to put a stop to that. I doubt the Empire can yet field anything that could have handled it. To read between the lines, I gather this plan is not currently still viable?”

“Thankfully, no,” Darling said, grimacing and toying with his scone. “The two eldest girls were a little too old when Khadizroth took them in to buy into it fully. They smuggled the other elves away from him, hid them with other tribes, and finally fled themselves. From there they ended up in Tiraas, and then as my apprentices in the Thieves’ Guild.”

“And now, you have a green dragon who wants his property back.”

“Precisely.”

She drummed her fingers on the table. “…I gather that giving them to him isn’t an option.”

“No,” Darling said, and there was an undercurrent of steel in his voice. “It is not.”

“Good,” Tellwyrn said with some satisfaction. “Well then, you do have a problem. I’m not sure I concur with Mary that I’m an expert on Khadizroth…”

“She did say that you’d bested him. Repeatedly.”

“Not alone.” Tellwyrn shook her head. “And that, I think, is the beginning of your difficulty. Your instincts are working against you here.”

“My instincts?” He raised his eyebrows.

“You’re an Eserite,” she said. “Unless I miss my guess, you’re thinking in terms of a long con. Trying to control information, use the dragon’s cleverness against him. Playing the game, in other words. Correct?”

“In essence,” he said slowly, leaning back in his chair. “That’s what we do.”

“And that’s your problem. As things stand… You and your apprentices are mostly safe so long as you stay behind the walls of Tiraas. Without his planned army, Khadizroth won’t risk his own safety against the might of the Empire. He’ll come at you through intermediaries, and none of the individuals who do that kind of work are crazy enough to pick a fight with the Guild. Conversely, there’s really nothing you can do to him, either. Do you even know where he is?”

“No,” Darling admitted ruefully.

“Right. So here you two sit, on opposite sides of a board filled with pieces you can’t even move. I guarantee the dragon’s patience is a lot longer than yours, Bishop Darling. Eventually, someone will have to give up their advantage and take some action. That’s likely to be you, and it’s all but certain to be your downfall.”

He was frowning now, but in thought, not dismay. “I see. What, then, are you suggesting?”

“Ignore your instincts,” she said firmly. “Don’t take him on alone. Make noise, Darling. Tell people what’s going on. This dragon was trying to raise an army against the Empire? The Empire will have very strong opinions about that. He was planning to use women as captive breeding stock? Elves or no, that’s exactly the kind of thing that drives the Sisters of Avei into a rage. They have brought down dragons, too.”

“I’ve been operating on the assumption that his interest in my girls is to find out what they’ve revealed, find out who else he has to silence. Keeping him in the dark on this matter is probably all that’s staying his hand.”

“You’re probably right,” she acknowledged, “but what do you really lose by forcing his hand?”

“I go from being a possible nuisance to a definite target for revenge,” he said wryly.

“True. But Khadizroth isn’t one of the more vengeful dragons; most of the greens aren’t. Once his secret is out, you become completely irrelevant. If he’s having to run and hide from a continent full of enemies… Well, they might actually do him in, but even if not, he won’t have the time or attention to spare for you. Better to be a target for revenge than one of active tactical concern.”

“Sounds logical,” he said, now staring at the far wall in thought. “A simple solution.”

“The best ones usually are,” she said with some satisfaction and took a bite of her scone.

“Yeah,” Darling said, then chuckled and shook his head. “And like all the best solutions, it’s not really a realistic option for me. The problem, Professor, is my apprentices. They’re Cobalt Dawn by blood, and… Well, without getting into the messy details, there are other concerns. Guild stuff, elf stuff, various miscellany. The point is, I really cannot afford to bring them to the attention of the Empire. Either Imperial Intelligence or the Sisters will need credible information to act against Khadizroth, and if I provide it… I place my apprentices at considerable risk.”

“Elf stuff?” she said flatly.

He gave her a disarming smile. “I don’t pretend to understand all of it. Suffice it to say, I can’t afford for those girls to become a pin on the Empire’s maps.”

“Mm. You sure didn’t bring me an easy one.”

“Well, it’s well known that you dislike being bored.”

Tellwyrn chewed a bite of scone for a long moment before replying. “Then I guess you were right to ask me. I can offer you some insights into Khadizroth that you may be able to use.”

“You are a gentleman and a scholar!”

“First of all, my original recommendation still applies. If you can’t bring official attention down on him, there are others who’ll help you. Since you somehow have Mary the Crow in your address book, by all means tell her about this, if you haven’t already. She tends to get very aggressive with people who abuse elves on a systematic scale such as you’re talking about.”

“Is Mary a match for a dragon?” he asked, clearly fascinated.

“I have no idea,” Tellwyrn said bluntly. “I don’t know if she’s a match for me, either. I don’t know if I’m a match for Khadizroth, because as I said, when I’ve had to tangle with him in the past, I always called in help. It’s all about maneuver, not force. Yes, I’m aware of my reputation and the irony, but when you’re talking about the affairs of gods and dragons and archfae—anything that deserves a Zero Twenty designation, really—different rules apply. We do not engage one another in destructive contests of power, nor enact grand plans to seize more terrestrial power than we need. Khadizroth clearly just did that last one, and in a way that’s likely to damage the reputation of all dragons—such as it is—should the story get out. Find and tell any dragon what he was up to, and he will immediately have problems of exactly the kind he was trying to inflict on the Empire.”

“Dragons, unfortunately, I do not have in my address book,” he said with a grin, then leaned forward, staring at her intently. “I wonder—”

“No, I will not take him on for you,” she said firmly. “I’ve made my own accommodation with the new order of the world, Darling. I perch atop my mountain and train my students, and the Empire tolerates me occasionally throwing my weight around because I’ve very carefully made it plain that I only do so when I perceive a real need. I’m not an adventurer any more, and acting as one would be a betrayal of the responsibility I owe my students.”

“I see,” he said regretfully. “Well, had to ask.”

“I’ll tell you what I will do for you, though,” she went on. “I know one dragon who’ll listen to me; the others will listen to him. Once I set that in motion, it’ll just be a matter of time before Khadizroth has far more important things than you and your apprentices to worry about.”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” he said fervently. “It surprises me to hear you have a dragon for a friend—though on second thought, I really don’t know why it should.”

“More a nemesis than a friend,” she said, grinning. “A three-thousand-year pain in the ass. Zanzayed was the first individual to cause me real problems when I… Well, that’s not important. We’ve been dueling off and on basically forever now. After that kind of time… Friends come and go, Darling, but the right kind of enemy can become more important to you than a lover. I don’t know what either of us would do if something were to befall the other at this point. When my husband died, it was Zanzayed who tracked me down and talked me out of doing something extremely rash.” She shook her head. “Anyway. Of course, I’ll have to find him first; I’ve not heard from him in a few years, and he does enjoy his intrigues. It’s likely to be months before I can get that in motion. You’ll have to cope in the meantime.”

“Zanzayed the Blue?” he said, tilting his head. “He’s in Onkawa.”

Tellwyrn stared.

“Or was a few weeks ago,” Darling amended, “pursuing some woman. I only know that by happenstance, but I do have access to intelligence reports. I can find out where he went after that, if indeed he’s moved on.”

“No,” she said slowly, “a few weeks is a fresh enough trail. Apparently it’s best if you don’t have the Empire looking into this matter, remember?”

“Quite so. That being the case, thank you very much for the help.”

“Then here’s what you should know about Khadizroth,” she said, pushing aside her plate and leaning forward over the table. “He has the capacity for subtlety, but for the most part disdains it. Sneaking around offends his sense of honor, and of his own majesty. If he feels you’re manipulating him…well, don’t do that, you don’t want him to start making effective use of his resources. If you’re careful, though, if you engage him directly, you can keep his attention focused and his actions relatively aboveboard.”

“I see,” he said thoughtfully. “The fellow sounds a bit like you.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” he said, smiling slightly. “But there it is.”

“Okay, I suppose I’ll have to grant you that,” she said ruefully. “The other significant fact about Khadizroth is that he’s a people person.”

“….oh?”

“Most dragons tend to regard the mortal races as beneath them. Some are relatively benevolent, though, and by and large, Khadizroth is one of those. He likes to attract and keep followers, and in fact has a knack for earning very real loyalty from the people with whom he surrounds himself. It sounds like your girls scattered the bulk of his retinue, but it’s best to assume he has devoted servants ready to throw at you.”

“At least one that I know of,” Darling said, frowning.

“It’s not all bad news. He recruits based on loyalty, not skill.”

“Yeah, that fits the guy I met,” the Bishop grinned.

“Khadizroth is, in his way, loyal to his followers. It’s very much the loyalty of an autocrat toward his country; filtered through his ego, but sincere. An attack on them is an attack on him, and in fact he may take that more personally than he would a direct strike against himself. He expects enemies to attack him, you see. Going after his people is dirty pool.”

“I see,” he said, wincing. “And…hypothetically, what if I already roughed up one of his servants? Possibly the only one he has left?”

“Then,” Tellwyrn said dryly, “that revenge thing is likely to be a higher priority for him than I previously suggested.”

“…bollocks.”

“Well, now you know,” she said lightly. “You might be able to make amends. I do encourage you to open a line of communication and keep it open until you can get somebody powerful on his scaly tail. Your best case scenario is to set enemies after Khadizroth without revealing you were behind it. He may be willing to negotiate an end to hostilities with you if he finds you honorable and has bigger fish to fry.”

“That may be a slice of pie in the sky,” Darling said, “the situation being what it is. If anybody gets wind of what he was doing with the Cobalt Dawn and comes after him for it, he’s going to have to assume I was behind that.”

“True,” she said nodding, “but as long as you keep it relatively polite, again, that’s just business as usual. If you’re a declared enemy, he’ll expect you to be hostile. He may still be willing to make peace and turn his attention to more serious threats.”

“Then it sounds like I have a working plan.” He smiled, leaning toward her. “I really can’t thank you enough, Professor Tellwyrn. I know this must have been out of your way—”

“Stop.” She held up a hand. “I’ll tell you what, your Grace. After this is over, if you and your apprentices are still alive and free, look around at your situation and decide whether you still want to thank me. You’ll know where to find me if so.”

After the Professor had left, Darling paced in his study, working off some of the tension. She had proven a lot more personable than rumor suggested, but the facts were what they were; Tellwyrn was by far the most dangerous individual he’d ever had under his roof, including the Crow. Mary, at least, was somewhat predictable. Her motives were understood.

Still, it had been well worth it. Tellwyrn’s information was extremely useful, and her offer to help had been more than he’d dared to hope for. Of course, he was still stuck in a contest of wills with a dragon. There was nothing for him to cheer over just yet.

Price cleared her throat softly from the doorway. “Would your Grace like a brandy?”

“Y—no,” he said. “No, Fauna lectures me enough as it is. It’s not even noon, Price. Honestly, I’m surprised at you. What kind of bacchanal are you running here?”

“As you say, your Grace,” she said, perfectly neutral and yet accusing. He grinned at her.

“Price, I have just had a thought.”

“Shall I alert the fire marshal, your Grace?”

“My, aren’t you hilarious. I’ve been thinking I needed to keep this dragon issue as strictly separate from the Archpope and his schemes as possible.”

“That sounds sensible, your Grace.”

“Mm hm. However.” He turned from her and began to pace again. “Based on Tellwyrn’s recommendation, I need to find something straightforward and aggressive to point at Khadizroth until she can get some other dragons to deal with him. On the other hand, the Archpope expects me to recruit and control some of the world’s most dangerous adventurers. My biggest problem there has been finding something for them to do; these aren’t people who’ll be willing to be put on retainer and sit around in pubs until they’re called for. And what, I ask you, is more of a classic task for adventurers than slaying a dragon?”

“I confess I had rather hoped your Grace would task them with the collection of proverbial bear rumps. I have an excellent recipe.”

Darling grinned fiendishly. “Sometimes, Price, when the gods smile on us, two problems are the solutions to each other.”

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