Duke Werner’s estate was in the outskirts of Vandoran. He had sent a carriage harnessed to two kamchari, and I spent the ride curled up in Aelyn’s arm watching the city streets unfold. We passed markets, stalls, at least one school, and clusters of low-rise apartments and houses. I smelt the spice from roadside food stalls, and glimpsed a small boy snatch a piece of fruit from a roadside table and tear off, pursued by the vendor.

  The buildings became sparser and grander. We turned onto a gravel road lined with slim trees bearing dark purple leaves. Stars began to appear to the east, and the Arc flared above us. A grand manor bulked over a circular drive, and the coachman pulled to halt at a marble stair that led up to a well-lit entrance. Aelyn handed me down and took my arm to escort me up to the portal.

  Two guards opened the doors without a word. As we passed through a uniformed attendant consulted a scroll.

  “Mage Lady Circe and her Blade Lord Aelyn.”

  That would never get old.

  Before us stood a couple, arms linked. The woman was slight, clad in a flowing gown reminiscent of a Roman toga, and had her hair piled in a coiffure held with a golden clip. I looked carefully at her core, ensuring that I did not disturb its surface. She appeared to be Mage of significant depth, with an unfamiliar mana pattern.

  The man was taller and solidly built, a bear to Aelyn’s panther. He wore a blade at his waist with no adornments on a well-worn hilt. His clothes were rich but cut to allow unfettered movement. Aelyn and I bowed as one, hands over the left breast.

  “Damn,” I thought, “I have no idea if they curtsy here.”

  Duke Werner bowed and his partner curtsied. Oh well. Time to add another skill to my to-do list.

  “Blessings of Hecate on your house, Duke and Duchess Werner.” said Aelyn.

  “And on yours, Lord and Lady Na’Lyona,” responded the Duchess.

  I blinked. Had I really heard that?

  “Please,” said the Duke. He gestured to an entrance offset from the main hall. “We can sit in the library while dinner is prepared.”

  I tensed like a theranaq about to pounce. Something must have shown in my eyes, because the woman smiled.

  “Perhaps you would like to browse our collection, Lady Circe.”

  “Oh, yes please.” I tried to modulate my voice. “I have a great weakness for books.”

  “We’ll get along splendidly, then.”

  Aelyn escorted me into a room replete with books and scrolls, and I looked around greedily. The Duke chuckled and pointed to a cluster of four chairs scattered around a low table.

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  “Perhaps we could speak before letting you loose on our archive?”

  “Of course.” My ears were warm.

  The Duchess stepped to the middle of the room and began to cast a spell, which I followed closely. A helical net of fibres formed around her wrists and forearms and then branched out to the four corners of the room. Offshoots formed and spread to cover the walls, ceiling, and floor, then locked together in a mesh. I became aware of a muted sensation in the room.

  “That should secure our privacy,” said the Duchess, “Now, are there any particular subjects that you are interested in?”

  “That dampening spell, for one. Also, I imagine you have a collection of tomes on scrying, my Duchess,” I said, “I’d be most interested in those. I didn’t see many at the Academy.”

  There was a brief pause as the couple considered me.

  “Just Lyora, please,” she said, “and why would you think I would be interested in that topic?”

  “Call me Circe. Aelyn fights on the line, so I specialize in combat sorcery and healing. Just as I support Aelyn, I am sure you favour your Duke.”

  The Duke’s mouth twitched. “Mast said you didn’t miss much.” He rose and stepped over to a sideboard. “Wine?” I noted he did not call for a servant.

  “Please,” I said. Aelyn nodded. The vintage was a deep purple, somewhat drier than its Elven counterpart. I swirled it in my mouth and waited.

  “Call me Werner,” he said. “And perhaps we could save time by skipping the verbal jousting.”

  “It can be tedious.”

  “We agree with your assessment that Lady Katrina’s was involved in the sensal theft. Congratulations and thanks for its return. The loss would have impacted more parties than the House of Na’Lyona, including—” he paused and chose his words carefully, “—one or more prominent clans of the Empire.”

  I bowed my head.

  “What is your judgement of Lady Katrina herself?”

  “She is clumsy and unsubtle. And of little immediate interest. Rather, I would strive to identify her principals. I would venture to say that they present a real and current risk to your Empire.”

  “How would you accomplish that?”

  “Locate her. And follow her up the food chain.”

  “Food chain…” Werner mused and then grinned. “I like that phrase.”

  Aelyn had turned to stare at me. I gazed at him.

  “She sought to harm my people, my love. That will not stand.”

  Werner tapped his chin thoughtfully. “How will you find her?”

  “If I’m not mistaken,” I said, “she will come to me. After all, she knows that I was applying to the Academy.”

  “Why should she seek you out?”

  “She was humiliated. So, there is a reputational injury. And this is compounded by the fact that she will have to answer to her principal for the loss of the sensal. One or the other party will seek recompense.”

  “They will attack you,” said Aelyn. His hand was clenched on his hilt.

  “It seems likely.” I looked at him. “Mast did warn me to keep my Blade close.”

  “Beside you.”

  “Rather,” I said, “in the shadows near me. My own theranaq.”

  He grunted, slipped his hand from his sword, and placed his arm around me.

  “A question, Circe,” said Lyora, “if I not too forward: who do you represent, and where do you come from?”

  “I stand with the Elves. And I serve my Goddess Hecate. As to where I am from—” I shrugged, “—I doubt you have ever heard of it. A country called Canada.”

  “No,” she shook her head, “I have not. And—” she looked me over, “—you are quite beautiful, my lady, but…unusual in your appearance. Do all in your country look like you?”

  “No. They’re all different,” I said.

  Werner nodded, and Lyora dropped her spell. My ears popped.

  “I smell dinner,” she said. She dropped back to speak with me as we filed out.

  “I saw a statue of the Goddess once,” she said, “in a small village far to the south. It bore an uncanny resemblance to you.”

  “Perhaps they based it on one of their own priestesses,” I said.

  “I doubt it,” she shook her head, “it was an orcish settlement.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I am sorry for you, my lady. You have a difficult road to follow.”