For more than the next half hour, Tristan explained to Wigg, Faegan, and Celeste exactly what he wanted to do, and how he would do it. As he spoke, the wizards could hear the optimism rising in his voice. When he was done, the two mystics sat back in silence as they considered his plan. Long moments ticked by as the prince awaited their opinions.

"I'll admit that it has its merits," Faegan finally answered. Tristan could see the wheels turning in the old wizard's head. "But the logistics and execution would be daunting, to say the least. The timing would have to be perfect, and your idea carries with it absolutely no guarantee of success. Still, it's the best plan I have seen so far." He smiled at the prince. "Frankly, I'm impressed."

"I agree," Wigg said. "But tell me, does anyone outside of this room know of your idea?"

"No."

"Good," the lead wizard said adamantly. "Keep it that way. And leave what you brought here with us. We will consider your plan, and let you know if it is viable."

"If that's what you feel you must do, then so be it," Tristan countered. "But you'd best hurry. The warning from the Minion scout ships could come at any time, whether you're ready or not."

Satisfied for the time being, Tristan crossed his arms over his leather vest. "Now then," he asked politely. "What was it you wished to tell us?"

As was his habit, Wigg placed his hands into the opposite sleeves of his robe. "There are two things, actually," he began. "And they both have to do with the Scroll of the Vigors."

Tristan and Celeste both looked over to where the scroll was hovering in the air. The azure glow of the craft flowed from it, and it was partially unrolled to reveal the elegant, flowing Old Eutracian words and symbols inscribed on it. Its golden center rod and end caps gleamed in the light.

"What about it?" Celeste asked.

"Do you remember Faegan and I telling you about something the watchwoman of the floating gardens mentioned to us? She called it the River of Thought."

Tristan's brow furrowed. "Yes, I do," he answered. "But frankly, I had forgotten. You said little of it."

"That's because at the time, there was very little to say," Faegan replied. "We wanted to be sure the calculations for it actually existed within the scroll. And we finally found them."

"And just what does this so-called River of Thought accomplish?" Tristan asked.

"Used properly, it can stir certain feelings or sensations in one or more endowed persons at the same time," Wigg replied. "Faegan imbued its Forestallment into my blood only this morning, and I just used it for the first time."

"To do what?" Celeste asked, her voice a whisper.

"To call home all of the acolytes of Fledgling House," he replied. "The Redoubt has been empty for far too long. It needs to be used for the reason it was built-the further training and safe harbor of those who have devoted their lives to go forth in our name and perform good deeds of the craft. As you both know, whatever consuls may still exist have been freed of their death enchantments, turned to the Vagaries, and taken to the Citadel. Sadly, they are now all subject to Wulfgar's control. But they are not the subjects of our efforts." Pausing for a moment, he looked into their surprised faces.

"Instead, we have employed the River of Thought to summon the acolytes here, to what will be their new home," he went on. "What better place to harbor these valuable souls during such troubled times than the depths of the Redoubt? Their mission will be to take the place of the consuls who have betrayed us." He looked sadly at Tristan.

"This was your mother's lifelong dream," he added softly. "Equality for women in the craft. Faegan and I wanted to call the acolytes home sooner, but until we learned of the River of Thought, there was no practical way of doing it. Now there is. We are about to make Morganna's vision for the future come true. The circle shall be complete again, for the first time in more than three centuries."

Tristan stared at the two wizards, then smiled broadly, happy beyond words that they had finally arrived at this crossroads in history. But then another thought came to him. "This is wonderful news," he told them. "Still, how will we know they are who they claim to be? Anyone can acquire a red robe. Couldn't there easily be traitors among them? This seems like a very dangerous time to be taking strangers into the palace."

"First, of course, they will all be women," Wigg answered, "the oldest of whom should be no more than thirty Seasons of New Life. And, as you point out, each of them should also be wearing the dark red, hooded robe of her station. But clearly, those things alone are not sufficient proof. We shall therefore also be checking their blood signatures against our records for final confirmation before any of them are shown the secrets of the Redoubt. We shall also check them for the presence of Forestallments, to see whether their blood has been tampered with. There should be none. But if any of the acolytes are found to posses them, those women will be segregated and held for questioning." Pausing for a moment, the lead wizard laced his long fingers together.

"Tristan, with your permission I want to order the Minions now stationed before the palace entrance to move their campsites immediately," he said. "I want them out of sight. I think we can safely assume that few of the acolytes have ever seen one of our winged friends before, and I don't want to scare the women away. Their hearts will already be filled with enough trepidation about what they are doing as it is. For all they know just now, they are breaking their vows simply by coming here. We can only hope that the River of Thought is strong enough to overcome those feelings in them and keep them continuing on the path home. They will be very conflicted when they arrive. They must feel welcome, and know that it was we who called them here."

"Forgive me, Father," Celeste began, "but are you sure this is a good time to be doing this? What about Wulfgar and his fleet?"

"Now is the best possible time," Faegan answered. "In other ways, it is also the worst. And Wulfgar is the reason behind both. If he truly is on the way, we want to get the acolytes to safety as quickly as we can, before he can influence them. And if Grizelda was lying and Wulfgar is not advancing on us, then why wait? Your father and I thought long and hard about this, and finally decided to go ahead."

Tristan looked over at Wigg, and the lead wizard's face darkened. "And the other thing you called us here to discuss?" Tristan asked. "What is it?"

Ignoring Tristan's question, Wigg looked sternly at both of them. "We are sorry to have to ask you this, but we must know if the two of you have been intimate. And if you have, how many times this occurred."

Tristan and Celeste stared at him, shocked. "How could you ask such a thing?" the prince demanded. "Besides, this really isn't the time for-"

"Just tell us," Wigg interrupted sternly. "Trust me when I say that we have our reasons. It is vitally important that we know."

Had any other man asked him this, Tristan might well have knocked him down. But these were Wigg and Faegan, and the wizards always had their reasons. Still, he scowled.

"Once," he answered. Annoyed, he crossed his arms over his chest. Celeste blushed.

"When was it?" Wigg asked.

"Yesterday morning."

"And during your time with one another, did either of you see an azure glow form, then disappear?"

Tristan looked over at Celeste. He took her hand, then looked back at Wigg. "I may have," he said tentatively.

"That's not good enough," Wigg shot back impatiently. "Either you did, or you didn't."

"I was half asleep," Tristan answered. "And that's the best answer I can give you. Even now I cannot be sure whether it was a dream or whether it was real."