Wethis answered Alec’s knock. The young servant had grown up since Alec had seen him last and was sporting the beginnings of a passable beard. “My lords! It’s good to see you. Master Thero and Mistress Magyana are waiting in the parlor downstairs.”

Gone were the precipitous stacks of dusty manuscripts in the entry, and the jumbled wonders covering every flat surface. Everything was orderly and clean now, though evidence of Thero’s own work was everywhere visible in the neatly arranged books and papers, and the various crucibles simmering over little braziers. The freshly polished steel and brass astronomical instruments arranged on the walkway below the leaded glass dome gleamed. It was at once pleasant and sad, and Alec saw the same emotions warring in Seregil’s grey eyes as he looked around, taking it in for the first time.

The painted parlor was less changed, if neater. The fine mural painted with monsters and marvels still ringed the room, and its innate magic still tugged at the eye, even though Alec knew what it was up to now. The overstuffed furnishings were the same, well-worn and comfortable.

The wizards rose from their chairs by the fire as Wethis ushered them in. Magyana embraced them, her smile making the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth deepen and tilt. “So she’s finally found something for you to do, has she? Did she give you my message sticks?”

Seregil took them from his coat and handed them to her. “You think she’s tampered with them?”

“That would be very difficult.” Nonetheless, she examined each one closely. “Yes, these are mine, and still properly magicked. You should have no difficulty using them.”

“Phoria must trust you to have you make these,” Alec remarked. “She doesn’t seem very fond of any wizards these days, especially those who knew Nysander.”

“It was her brother who came to me.”

“We thought you might like to have these, as well.” Thero reached into his sleeve and handed Seregil another set of sticks, similar in design, but painted different colors. “The yellow is for Gedre, and the green for Bôkthersa. The brown one is in case Klia does decide to defy her sister. The messages will come to me.”

“Thank you. Alec, you hang on to these so we don’t get them mixed up. And I don’t think we want Captain Traneus to see us use them.”

Magyana’s grey brows shot up. “That reptile? Watch out for him.”

“That’s going to be difficult, seeing as how Phoria’s put him in charge of our escort.”

“What the hell is going on, Thero?” asked Alec. “Why did Phoria call you and the turma back first, if she was going to call Klia back anyway? Does she really think Klia would betray her?”

Thero waved them to seats by the hearth and poured the wine into the ornate crystal goblets. “I can’t say what was in the queen’s mind, of course, but it can’t have been lost on her that Klia has made a great many friends in Aurënen.”

“Friends Phoria fears could turn to allies?” Seregil scoffed. “That’s an insult to Klia and the ’faie.”

“It could be construed that way,” the wizard replied. “However, Prince Korathan indicated in his letters that Phoria is merely being cautious.”

“Or the family mad streak is coming out,” Alec muttered.

“Queen Phoria is not mad,” Magyana assured him. “She is a canny ruler, though, and a cautious one. I suspect that until Princess Klia bends her knee before her, that caution will prevail.”

“How did Klia react to Urghazi Turma being taken from her?”

“Phoria’s order indicated that Captain Beka Cavish is to prepare the rest of the regiment to receive their commander,” Thero replied.

Seregil gave him a crooked grin. “Sounds like you became her close adviser, down there together for so long.” The grin widened a bit as a faint blush rose to color the young wizard’s cheeks.

Klia- and Thero? Alec tried not to laugh, picturing those two as a couple.

“So, what happened at the Palace after Phoria sent me out?” Thero asked, quickly composing himself. “I see you both have your heads on your shoulders.”

Seregil quickly sketched out the situation, then turned to Magyana. “What can you tell me about this Traneus fellow?”

“I’d never heard of him until Idrilain lay dying that terrible winter in Mycena, just before you two were sent off to Sarikali. After that, Phoria never seemed to be without him. He had been a corporal in her guard, then suddenly he was a captain, and a lord. He has a nasty habit of turning up like a stray cat anywhere someone voices support for anyone but her. He certainly had his eye on me then.”

Alec sighed. “So much for her trusting us.”

“It’s probably Klia he’s being sent to spy on, rather than us,” said Seregil. “And besides, we’ve nothing to worry about. We’re doing exactly what Phoria wants.”

“The queen leaves nothing to chance, and she likes to hold all the cards,” Thero warned. “I’d have given you more warning, but she’s had me under watch since my ship came in yesterday. Did you get any of my letters?”

“So you did write? No, not one,” Seregil replied. “Is Klia well?”

“Oh yes, and well loved by your clan, and their allies.”

“Do you think she’ll come back?” asked Magyana.

Thero nodded. “Of course she will. She’s wanted nothing else since the Aurënfaie signed the accord. It’s been very difficult for her, getting news of the war but not being able to do anything.”

The older wizard sighed. “Phoria has been very foolish, keeping such an able commander from the field.”

“It looks like she finally figured that out,” said Seregil.

“How’s Klia’s hand, Thero?” asked Alec.

“It healed well.” During their diplomatic visit to Sarikali, an assassin’s poison had cost her two fingers on her right hand. “The poison caused no lasting damage but she has only limited use of it now.”

“Did Phoria give you any idea what she has planned for you after you’ve done this?” asked Magyana.

“No. I imagine she’s waiting to see if we actually obey.”

“And?”

“We will, of course. We’ve only just gotten settled in the new place. I’m not ready to be run out of town just yet. Not on her say-so, anyway. What about you, Thero? What will you do, without the Watchers to oversee?”

“I have my own work. To be honest, I’m almost relieved. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do. Nysander kept me out of most of his Watcher business until those last few months.” He paused, one corner of his mouth tightening with a hint of lingering bitterness. “It was always you and Micum, coming and going mysteriously, and whispers behind closed doors.”

“He did trust you,” Seregil assured him. “He wouldn’t have kept you with him if he didn’t. You were the best student he ever had.”

“Perhaps.”

Seregil reached over and squeezed his hand. “He told me so himself, many times. Don’t ever doubt it.”

Thero managed a sad smile, then changed the subject, telling them of his time at Bôkthersa, and giving Seregil news of his family and friends.

“Well, we should be getting back before Micum storms the prison looking for us,” Seregil said when Thero finished, rising to go.

“Please give him my regards, and ask him to visit me here soon,” said Thero.

“A safe journey to you,” Magyana said, pressing travelers’ charms into their hands.

“And Watchers or no Watchers, I will keep a close eye on Rhíminee, and on Klia when you bring her back,” Thero promised.

Seregil clapped him on the shoulder. “I hope we live to see such services welcome again.”