“You should follow a plow and earn yourself some coin stoning the crows. That’s some skill,” a cheerful voice complimented me.

“It is, but it’s not my own,” I said without thinking.

“That sounds like a line from a bad ballad! You must be Ryshad, I’m Pered.”

I turned to see what manner of man Shiv had returned to so fondly. As with the island of Hadrumal itself, I couldn’t have told you what I was expecting. I had the sense not to be looking for a masquerade matron, all feathers and flamboyant gestures, but perhaps I was anticipating something a little more obvious than a stocky, blunt-featured man with curly brown-blond hair and hazel eyes. His Tormalin was excellent, his accent that of Col and I recalled that city’s reputation for letting folk follow their own path.

“Go on then, tell me the tale.” Pered sat himself in a bench to enjoy the sunshine, arms folded, muscular legs outstretched at his ease.

I hurled my last stone and struck a chip of rock from my target. “I have a fair eye but this particular talent belongs to a man many generations dead whose memories are somehow cluttering up my dreams.” It sounded rather improbable put like that, but Pered didn’t look surprised.

“So our revered Archmage has entangled you in one of his schemes, has he?”

I liked the almost total absence of respect in his voice and thought that Pered and I could probably be friends.

“Like a fly in a web.” I nodded.

“This is all to do with some lost colony and this unknown magic that has all the mages fluttering like doves with a cat in the cot, is it?” Pered shook his head. “Good thing too, if you ask me. It’s nice to see some of them learning a little humility for a change.”

No, I decided, we were definitely going to be friends. “Shiv’s told you about it?”

“Enough,” shrugged Pered. “So, what’s he like?”

“Sorry?”

“This lad who’s wrecking your nights, the one with the throwing eye, what’s he like?”

I looked at Pered and found myself at a loss for words. The Archmage had asked so many things, teased out so much detail about the colony, found far more information that I had realized I knew, but he hadn’t once asked about young D’Alsennin himself.

“He’s not a bad lad. He still has an unholy amount to learn about women but he’s growing up fast, squaring up to his responsibilities all right. He has got plenty of character but it needs tempering, polishing up.” It seemed strange to be talking about Temar like this.

“What does he look like? Can you describe him?” Pered pulled a scrap of reed paper from the breast pocket of his shirt and found a broken length of charcoal in his breeches pocket.

I closed my eyes to picture Temar more clearly and Pered sketched swiftly as I spoke, charcoal deft in his stubby fingers. “He’s a skinny lad,” I concluded. “He’ll fill out a bit in a few years, but he’s outgrown himself just at the moment. I suppose you’d call it a wolf’s face, long jaw, thin lips, angular, if you know what I mean. He certainly has a wolf’s eyes, really intense light blue, which is strange when you consider he has black hair.”

“How does he wear it?”

“Long, straight, mostly tied back.”

“Anything like this?” Pered turned his sketch toward me and I smiled involuntarily.

“Are you sure you’re not a mage? Actually, his nose isn’t that prominent and his brows are finer but that’s a better likeness than many a portrait I’ve seen. You’re wasted in a copy-house.”

It was strange, seeing that picture, imperfect as it was, the face of a youth so alive in my dreams and reveries but so long lost on the far side of the pitiless ocean. I felt an odd tug of affection, almost. Besides, I owed the boy, didn’t I? He’d saved my stones against Kaeska’s enchanter.

“As my father said when he apprenticed me, it’s a fair trade and it keeps bread on the table,” grinned Pered. “I’ll turn my hand to proper portraiture when Shiv finally gets fed up with being ordered about by Planir and we find ourselves hurrying for the next ship to somewhere different. Until then I’ll bide my time and mix my inks.”

“Don’t you mind the way Shiv has to go running every time Planir tugs his leash?” I asked curiously.

“Yes,” said Pered simply, “but that’s Shiv’s choice and I have to respect that if we’re to be together. The trick is making sure Shiv himself comes out ahead when all the runes are drawn, whatever game the Archmage is playing. That’s what you need to do, trust me.”

This struck me as an unusually intense conversation to be having with someone I’d only just met. “You seem very well informed. Shiv must have told you more than you’re saying.”

Pered shook his head. “Not Shiv, Livak. Anyway, what you need to work out first is just what you want. Then make sure whatever Planir tries to talk you into works for you as well as for him. Watch your step if he’s being all honest and open with you as well—there’ll be a barb in the honeycake, mark my words.”

I heaved a sigh. “I just want to get clear of all this, have ordinary, nonsensical dreams about swimming through deep water with talking fish or whatever; to be allowed to go and pick up the threads of my own life again.”

“Then keep your eye on that target and don’t let Planir or anyone else distract your throw.” Pered raised a hand and stood up. “I think I heard the street door.”

We went into the kitchen, the inner door opened and Shiv came in, moving to one side to reveal Livak, who stepped directly into my arms, tucking her tousled auburn head under my chin. I breathed in the scent of her as I kissed her hair and felt her arms tighten around me. Holding her close like that was a feeling worth more than a season in Laio Shek’s embraces. I could have stayed like that for ever if Shiv hadn’t needed to reach the range to put the kettle on the heat.

“What’s for dinner, Shiv?” Livak peered into a basket full of vegetables that was standing on the scrubbed table-top.

It proved to be a sturdy pottage that had been simmering away in a cook-pot on a tripod in the hearth and only awaited the addition of the vegetables. Shiv skimmed the fat and thickened the mix with the marrow from the bones while the rest of us peeled and chopped.

I caught Livak looking thoughtfully at me and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“Are you planning to keep the beard?” she asked with a faint smile.

“Do you like it?” I did hope she was going to say no.

She tilted her head to one side, considering this. “It definitely makes a difference but—”

That was good enough for me. “Shiv, do you have a razor I can borrow?”

Shiv laughed. “Certainly but I’d wait a bit before you use it. Shave a beard like that off in high summer, especially after spending time in the Archipelago, and you’ll have a piebald face. Your chin will catch the sun too, unless you’re careful. Trust me, I’ve done it!”

Pered’s artist’s imagination was instantly caught by this picture. “When did you wear a beard?” he asked, intrigued.

“Soon after I came to Hadrumal,” replied Shiv. “I thought it would make me look older and force some of the senior wizards to take me a bit more seriously.”

“Didn’t it work?” Livak asked with a wicked smile.

“No.” Shiv shook his head ruefully. “The only thing that impresses master mages is how you handle your element.”

In very little time we were sitting down to an extremely satisfying dinner. Whatever the mages might be doing, someone with more practical skills was raising very good beef on Hadrumal, and while I couldn’t identify the wine it was of a quality I associate with feasts and festival days. Best of all, we spent the entire meal talking about everything and anything and nothing to do with Planir, arcane dreams or lost colonies. It was almost as if my life were turning normal again.

As Shiv eventually rose to stack the plates in the sink, Pered looked out at the night. “You might as well stay, Livak. There’s no point in you heading back to the hall now and Halice will be asleep, if she’s anything like as tired as she was after the last session with those Solurans mauling her leg about. So, am I making up the bed in the garret as well or will the one in the back bedroom suffice?” he inquired with the first trace of archness I had seen in him.