“I would love to see that.”

“I’m getting stronger every hour. Dalis says I’ll be sitting in a chair in a day or two. The day after that I plan to be on my feet and back in charge. Then Carnades gets to see me with my eyes wide open, and my bootprint on his backside.”

“Other than myself and Phaelan, the only people close enough to hear Carnades this morning were the fancy-robed mages with him,” I told Justinius. “And I know for a fact that my cousin hasn’t paid you a visit.”

“No, he hasn’t. And once Mychael here deems me well enough to lift a pint, I want to rectify that oversight. And I understand his father is in the harbor.”

“With warships.”

“And me in a room without windows.” He threw an accusing glare at Mychael. “My bloody harbor is teeming with pirate ships, and I don’t get to see a damned one of them.”

Mychael sighed. “No windows are for your protection, sir.” It sounded like he’d uttered that phrase a couple dozen times. And until the old man was back on his feet, he’d probably say it a few dozen more.

“You have ears in convenient places,” I told Justinius.

“Any more convenient, and they’d be in Carnades’s robes right along with him.”

“They?” Sounded like some of those fancy-robed mages might be with Carnades, but they were working for Justinius. Nice.

“I don’t do anything halfway, girl.”

“No, sir. I don’t imagine you do.” I felt my lips curl in a grin.

“Don’t take this wrong, but you’d make a fine Benares.”

Justinius laughed, a dry wheezing sound. “Nicest thing anyone’s said to me in days.” Those sharp eyes were on Piaras. “However, I will not have Carnades threatening my students.”

I swore silently. I hadn’t told Piaras about Carnades because we were doing all we could to prevent anyone acting on his orders.

Piaras shot a glance at me. “He threatened me, sir?”

“Just the usual-that you’re ‘tainted by my influence,’ ” I assured him. “He threatened all of us; you just got added to the list.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it wasn’t a lie. “Don’t worry; he can’t act on any of it.”

Piaras looked at me as if to say what had happened tonight wasn’t bad enough.

“Okay, we won’t let him act on any of it.”

“Who’s we?”

“Me, Mychael, and my entire family.”

“Add me to that list, girl,” Justinius said. “Mychael and Ronan have told me what you’re capable of, Master Rivalin-without Sarad Nukpana at the reins. You’re the most gifted spellsinger to come through here since the two of them. And Katelyn told me everything you did this morning. You have my word that I will not lose you to Carnades’s ignorance, the Seat of Twelve’s arrogance, or Inquisitor Balmorlan’s greed.” His eyes narrowed. “Or Sarad Nukpana’s manipulations.” He pursed his thin lips. “I understand you’ve been doing more than studying.”

The old man could have meant any number of things by that, and Piaras was smart enough to keep his mouth shut until his brain had a chance to work through it. One, it wasn’t a question. Two, it wasn’t specific. Sleeping wasn’t studying, but the kid knew that wasn’t what the archmagus was getting at. And three, Piaras had been around me long enough to know the first rule of the Benares family: don’t confess to something you ain’t been accused of doing yet.

“Yes, sir. I have.”

Honest, yet admitting to nothing. Maybe my influence wasn’t all that bad.

Justinius’s bright eyes narrowed. “I understand you have used a containment spellsong against a class ten demon; a Volghul to be precise. And that you held it immobile, unable to summon reinforcements, or cast your song back in your face. And I understand that you did so until Miss Benares here could cram the purple bastard in a bottle.” He regarded Piaras in silence. “Do I understand correctly?” The old man’s voice sliced through the silence as smoothly as razor-sharp steel.

Piaras was almost too stunned to respond. “Yes, sir. You do.”

Justinius’s next questions came rapid fire. “And do I understand that you did all this to defend your fellow classmates-and my granddaughter?”

“Yes, sir.”

“After giving little or no thought to your qualifications to act as you did, the consequences of your actions, your chances of success, or the danger to yourself or others?”

Piaras blew out a little breath and shifted from one foot to the other, finding a simply fascinating spot on the floor by his right boot.

“That was a direct question, Master Rivalin.” Justinius’s voice cracked like a whip. “I require a response.”

“Yes, sir. I know.” Piaras raised his head and met the archmagus’s intense gaze. “And no, sir, I didn’t.”

The old man’s eyes glittered like sapphires. “Didn’t what, Master Rivalin?”

“Think about any of those things, sir. I just acted.”

“And why did you ‘just act’?”

Piaras stood a little straighter. “No one else was doing anything, and if I hadn’t acted, more people could have been hurt or killed.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I did what I thought was right, sir… And I would do it again.”

The archmagus sat in silence, unmoving. “And you would do it alone,” he said quietly. “Just like you did this morning.” His next words were slow and precise. “There was no Sarad Nukpana in the Quad with you this morning-just your talent and foolhardy bravery.” The tiniest smile curled the corner of the archmagus’s thin lips. “You’re noble to the point of suicide, boy.” He glanced at Mychael. “Just like a certain paladin of my acquaintance.”

Piaras’s eyes flicked to Mychael, and he bit the corner of his bottom lip to stop a smile.

Justinius spoke. “Master Rivalin?”

“Sir?”

“Look at me.”

Piaras did.

I could feel Justinius doing the same kind of gaze with Piaras that he’d done with me.

After a few moments, the old man broke his gaze and chuckled. “Bukas. Brutal savages. A fine choice, Master Rivalin.” He looked at Mychael. “And you said they were solid, complete with roars?”

Mychael nodded. “Roars that took out all the first-floor windows on the Judicial Building.”

Justinius laughed, a bright bark. “Nicol and his office lackeys will have a hell of a cleanup in the morning. I’d like to see that.”

“I only meant to conjure one, sir,” Piaras hurried to explain.

Justinius waved his hand dismissively. “You got carried away with all the excitement; happens to the best of us.”

“But I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Have you ever been attacked by elven embassy guards disguised as Guardians?”

“No, sir, but I-”

“Just because you’ve never done something before doesn’t mean you can’t do it, and do it well. There’s a first time for everything. It appears that the more you’re challenged, the more you’re capable of. Maestro Cayle told me the same thing about you.”

“He did?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

“Yes, sir, but I didn’t know he thought I could-”

“When Maestro Cayle wants you to know what he thinks, and what he thinks you can do, he’ll tell you.” The old man grinned impishly. “Unless I tell you first.”

Piaras flushed slightly with well-earned pleasure. “Yes, sir.”

“In the meantime, I’m inclined to trust his assessment.”

Piaras didn’t respond. I could virtually see the wheels turning in his mind. “So Sarad Nukpana didn’t have anything to do with the bukas?”

“Not. One. Thing. Once again, it was just you and yours. Nice work, young man.”

Piaras looked like the weight of the world had just dropped off of his shoulders. “Thank you, sir.”

“Though apparently Nukpana was involved when you took on those elven embassy guards.” His expression darkened. “Disguised as Guardians. How many survived?” he asked Mychael.

“Two, sir. Jari Devent and an embassy guard by the name of Kasen Aratus.”

“Isn’t Devent’s brother the defense attachй at the elven embassy?”

“Yes, sir.”