"I doubt there are many tastes Thero and I do share," Seregil conceded.

"A fact for which I am continually thankful," Thero parried dryly.

Leaving the two of them to their private battle, Alec turned back to Nysander. "I've been wondering about something you mentioned when we talked that first night."

"Yes?"

"You spoke of shape changing spells. Can a person really be changed into anything?"

"A brick, perhaps?" Thero interjected.

Seregil acknowledged the gibe with a gallant salute of the honey spoon.

"That is correct," Nysander replied.

"Transubstantiation—or metamorphosis, if you will—has always been a favorite subject of mine. I made quite a study of it, years ago. Few of the spells are permanent and the risks are often high, but I do enjoy them."

"He turned us into all sorts of things," Seregil told him. "And it still comes in handy now and then."

"There are several general kinds of changes," Nysander went on, warming to his topic.

"Transmogrifications change one thing completely into something else—a man into a tree, for instance. His thoughts would be those of a tree and he would exist as one without memory of his former nature until restored.

"A metastatic spell, however, would merely give a man the appearance of a tree. To alter the nature of a substance-iron into gold, for example-would require an alchemic transmutation."

"And what about that intrinsic nature spell of yours?" Seregil inquired blandly, staring down into his mug.

"I might have known you'd bring it around to that," Thero sniffed. "A trick to entertain children and country peasants!"

"There are those who believe it has some value," Nysander said with a meaningful look in Thero's direction. "Myself among them."

Seregil leaned over to Alec as if to speak in confidence, though he didn't bother to lower his voice. "Thero hates that spell because it won't work on him. He has no intrinsic nature, you see."

"It is true that this particular spell does not affect him," Nysander admitted, "but I am certain that we shall discover the impediment eventually. However, I suspect that it was not Thero's nature you had in mind?"

Seregil gave Alec a playful nudge in the ribs. "How about a bit of magic?"

Nysander laid his knife aside with a resigned sigh. "I see that I am not to enjoy this meal in peace. I suggest we retire to the garden in case Alec proves to be something especially large."

"Me?" Alec choked down a bit of ham. He had no idea what an intrinsic nature spell could be, but it suddenly appeared that they meant to work one on him.

Seregil was halfway to the door already. "I just hope he doesn't turn out to be a badger. I've never gotten on with badgers. Thero will probably turn out to be a badger if you ever get it to work."

They followed Nysander down to the Orлska gardens and into a thick stand of birch surrounding a small pool.

"This will do nicely," he said, stopping in the dappled shade near the water's edge. "I will transform Seregil first, Alec, so that you may observe the process."

Alec nodded nervously, watching as Seregil knelt on the grass in front of the wizard.

Resting his hands on his thighs, Seregil closed his eyes and all expression vanished from his face.

"He attains the suscipient state so readily," Thero muttered with grudging admiration. "Still, you take a chance, trying to work anything on him."

Nysander motioned for silence, then laid a hand on Seregil's head. "Seregil i Korit Solun Meringil Bokthersa, let thy inner symbol be revealed."

The change was instantaneous. One moment Seregil knelt before them. The next, something was squirming about in a tangle of empty clothing.

Nysander bent over the wiggling pile. "The change was successful, I gather?"

"Oh, yes," replied a small, guttural voice, "but I've lost my way in here. Could you lend a hand?"

"Help your friend, Alec," Nysander said, laughing.

Alec gingerly lifted the edge of the surcoat, then jumped back in surprise as the blunt head of an otter thrust out from under the loosened shirttail.

"That's better," it grunted. Waddling free of the clothing, the sleek creature sat up on its hindquarters with its tail stretched out behind. It looked exactly like any otter Alec had ever trapped, except that its small round eyes were the same grey as Seregil's.

Seregil smoothed his drooping whiskers into place with a webbed paw. "I should've stripped down first, but the effect is more startling this way, don't you think?"

"It's really you!" Alec exclaimed in delight, running a hand over the otter's gleaming back. "You're beautiful."

"Thank you-I think," Seregil clucked. "In light of your former profession, I'm not certain if that was a compliment or an appraisal of the worth of my pelt. Watch this!"

Humping to the edge of the pool, he slid into the water and dove out of sight with sinuous ease. After a few moments he climbed out again to deposit a flopping carp at Thero's feet.

"A cold fish for a cold fish!" he announced with otterish glee before dashing back into the water.

Scowling, Thero nudged the carp back into the pool with his foot. "He never can go anywhere without stealing something."

Nysander turned to Alec. "Ready to give it a try?"

"What do I do?" Alec replied eagerly.

"Remove your clothes first, I think. As you saw, they can be a hindrance."

Excitement overcame Alec's modesty for once and he disrobed quickly. In the meantime, Nysander changed Seregil back; the restoration was as sudden as the initial change.

"It's been a while since we've done that," Seregil said, grinning happily as he pulled on his breeches. "I spent a week as an otter once. I'd like to do that again sometime."

"There is no great trick to this," Nysander assured Alec as he took his place in front of the wizard. "Simply clear your mind. Think of water, or a cloudless sky. Before we start, however, I must know your full name."

"Alec of Kerry is all I've ever gone by."

"He's the son of a wandering hunter, not a lord," Seregil reminded him. "That sort hasn't the use for long names that we do."

"I suppose not. Still, the lad ought to have a proper name if he is going to trail about with you. Alec, what were the names of your father, and his father, and his father before that?"

"My father's name was Amasa. I never knew any of the others," answered Alec.

"In the southern fashion, that would make you Alec i Amasa of Kerry," said Nysander. "I suppose that will have to suffice."

"He's not likely to use his real name much at all if he runs with Seregil," Thero observed impatiently.

"True." Nysander placed his hand over Alec.

Alec thought of clear water as hard as he could and heard Nysander say, "Alec i Amasa Kerry, let thy inner symbol be revealed!"

Alec staggered, found his balance, braced for flight.

Everything appeared in varying tones of grey, yet the slightest movement caught his eye. More overwhelming still were the scents. The pool gave off the sweet message of water and there were horses nearby, mares among them. The countless plants of the garden wove a green tapestry of aromas, some stinking of Poison, others succulent and inviting.

Most emphatic, however, was the warning stink of the men. Some new part of him signaled innate alarm. He couldn't understand their ridiculous noise or the strange grimacing that accompanied it.

Then the smallest of the three moved closer, making calmer sounds. Watching the other man creatures with suspicion, he stood his ground, allowing this one to come close enough to stroke his neck.

"Magnificent!" exclaimed Seregil, looking over the young stag Alec had transformed into. Its nostrils flared nervously, scenting the breeze as he touched its powerful neck. Tossing its antlered head, it looked at him with wide blue eyes.