//But why do they call you lord?// Torio wanted to know.

//Wulfston and Aradia were my allies. I thought them my friends.// He let his painful disillusionment show, knowing that Portia might otherwise suspect that he had returned as a spy. //In the savage lands there is no ranking of powers, no testing except in combat. Anyone who has extraordinary powers is a lord out there.//

To his surprise and relief, Portia did not question further. They withdrew to Tiberium: Lenardo, Clement, and Torio in Clement's room, and Portia on the other side of the city, in the female Academy.

Ill will call a session of the Council,// she told them. //Meanwhile, Lenardo, do not advertise your presence.//

Ill don't intend to. What about my daughter?//

//Bring her to me now. I would examine this savage child personally, lest our communication provoke curiosity.//

Lenardo knew where the female Academy was, but he had never been inside it. No male Reader dared enter its doors unless or until he had failed to achieve one of the two top ranks. He took Julia to the entrance and awaited instructions. His situation was unique in his experience, and so he did not know protocol.

Lenardo had not supervised Julia's packing, but the child had done a good job of choosing practical traveling clothes. He had, though, told her to bring everything precious to her, and she had brought the yellow dress she had worn the day of the festival. She wore it now, with the golden fillet across her brow that proclaimed her his daughter… and knowing that he was going to leave her at the Academy, never to see her again, he hadn't the heart to make her take it off.

//Bring the child in to me,// Portia instructed.

Lenardo quelled the sickness that swept through him. Portia would allow him into her presence. That meant that despite all he had shown her, she not only did not recognize him as a Master Reader, she considered him failed and insignificant. I accepted it when I decided to seduce Aradia. But it still hurts.

He guided Julia through the entrance hall, where she looked around, wide-eyed. Here there were not only mosaics decorating the floors and walls but statues in the niches, richly carved and gilded furnishings, and magnificent tapestries lit by the skylights.

Lenardo had been in male Academies at various times, had spent a year in the huge hospital complex at Gaeta, but never had he seen such luxury lavished on Readers. Possessions were supposed to be foreign to them. In return for their services, Readers were provided with all necessities and comforts. But this?

He led Julia through more treasured halls, where girls of various ages passed them without question, though with curious stares at Julia. They knew well enough why a father would bring his daughter here and wondered whether she would be admitted to the Academy.

They passed classrooms where afternoon lessons were in progress, walked through a courtyard blooming with a profusion of flowers, and finally came to Portia's study.

Portia was sitting behind an ornate desk, dressed in cloth-of-gold with a gold tissue stole. For any public appearance, a female Master Reader would have worn a white linen dress edged in black and the same scarlet robe Lenardo had once worn. What she wore in private was her own business… but cloth-of-gold?

She is our liaison with the government, Lenardo reminded himself. Senators, even the Emperor himself, may visit here at any time. Perhaps she deliberately meets them on their own terms.

Portia raised her head as they entered, and Julia took a step back as if to hide but instantly refused to allow herself to be frightened. It's just an old woman, he caught her thinking.

Lenardo knew that Portia was old, but from her vigorous mind he had never envisioned her as the emblem of age itself. He had never, in the many times they had touched minds, Read her appearance.

She was so old as to be shrunken. Even her skin was no longer wrinkled but pulled in on itself like parchment, desiccated. In startling contrast to her rich raiment, her face appeared a skull, her eyes the only points of life deep within dark sockets, her mouth a slash, her lips colorless, bloodless. Wisps of white hair showed beneath the golden stole. Her hands were folded before her on the desk, knobbed, bony, painfully thin and yet strong. Control of every Reader in the Aventine Empire lay in those hands.

"Lenardo," she said, looking him up and down, and for a moment he was uncomfortable, knowing that his beard, the longer hairstyle he had adopted to fit his role as a savage lord, appeared unkempt here.

He had not felt out of place in this city wearing a plain white tunic in the street. He had dressed this way in Zendi all summer. But now he was forcefully reminded that he was not dressed as a Reader, that he no longer had the right to wear even a magister's robes. From now on he would dress as an ordinary Aventine citizen, although a badge would identify him as a minor Reader-a failed Reader-to those who might seek his services.

Then Portia said, not hiding her disgust, "You look like a savage." Her voice rasped, as bloodless as the rest of her, a startling contrast to the strong, pleasantly feminine "voice" she projected to other Readers.

Julia bristled. "My father's a great lord. His powers make him great. He don't have to dress up to impress nobody."

"Julia, hush!" Lenardo turned to Portia apologetically. "Please forgive the child, Master Portia. Her upbringing-"

"What else is to be expected?" The old woman dismissed him and fixed her eyes on Julia. //Lenardo says you are a Reader.//

//You don't have to shout. I'm not a baby,// Julia responded indignantly and powerfully. They all felt the shock ricochet through several nearby Readers.

//Very well.// Portia assumed normal conversational intensity. //Tell me what is in the cabinet beside the door.//

Once more she looked at Lenardo as if warning him not to help the child, but Julia needed no help. She had far more experience at Reading inanimate objects than any child her age got in an Academy.

//Top shelf. A wooden box, gold decorations. Inside it a bronze coin, three gold bracelets, amber beads. Then there's a silver cup with pearls.//

She continued spinning off items as Lenardo stood smugly enjoying Portia's astonishment. It would have been quite satisfactory for a Reader of Julia's age to identify shapes: box, cup, globe.

Portia probed for Julia's limits, easily finding them, of course-but the child was far advanced for her age. Lenardo was quite certain that Portia would give her a place here rather than send her to one of the lesser Academies.

"Lenardo," said Portia, "leave us. I would interview this child privately. Wait outside," she added, and he wondered if that was meant to reassure Julia.

"Be honest with Master Portia," he told the girl, "and do whatever she tells you."

He forced himself to smile, and he left the room convinced that he would never see Julia again except perhaps to say good-bye.

As he walked aimlessly down the hallway, it occurred to Lenardo that he had not disclosed to either Portia or Clement his ability to eavesdrop on other Readers without being noticed. He could Read Portia and Julia now, but he would not. To control his consuming curiosity, he sought something else to concentrate on and wandered out into the courtyard. Sitting down on the edge of the fountain, he took off his left sandal and rubbed his injured ankle. It was aching slightly after the walking he had done today, but, he Read, there was no new damage. Strange how quickly it was healing. He hadn't expected to walk easily for a week.

His mind went back to Julia as he refastened his sandal. Determinedly, he turned his thoughts in another direction, anything to stop worrying and avoid the temptation to Read her. Firmly, he cut off Reading and moved to a bench in the shade of an arbor thickly overgrown with blossoming vines. Not Reading, he found his other senses reaching out, appreciating the golden sunlight on the mottled green of the plants, the scent of flowers, the cool shade, the refreshing sound of the fountain, and the delicate hum of women's voices.