“Bad news, ma’am?”

“The captain will be here in a quarter of an hour,” she said. “With half a dozen Vonat dignitaries.”

“Including the wizard?” asked Kervis.

Meralda nodded, then put her hand gently on Kervis’ hand when he reached for his sword.

“None of that. It’s just a visit. They’ll be excruciatingly polite, and so will I. And so will you two. Understood?”

The Bellringers nodded assent in reluctant unison.

“Knock when they arrive. Tervis, please keep your brother from skewering anyone. Tensions are high enough as it is.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Meralda smiled at the brothers and closed the door.

She turned, took a deep breath, and marched back toward her desk.

“You’re not going to let that creature in here, are you?”

“It’s a tradition, Mug. But that doesn’t mean I can’t tidy up a bit first.” She reached her desk and began filling its drawers with her notes and drawings, stuffing them hastily inside and shoving at them until they fit. “I need a plain reflection in the glass, please. Nothing more while our visitors are here.”

The glass flashed, became nothing but a mirror, tarnished with age and neglect.

“The staves have opted to remain with you,” said the Tower, as two dark shapes emerged from the glass and flitted toward the shadowed ranks of shelves. “I have warned them against any displays unless your life is in imminent peril.”

Meralda frowned, but nodded. I can hardly take them in hand and throw them out.

Mug bunched his eyes together. Meralda caressed his topmost leaves and leaned down to meet his worried gaze. “He won’t try anything here, Mug. You know that. So please, be civil, or be silent.”

“Silent it is,” he muttered. “Tower, can you still see through the glass, even now?”

“I can. They are approaching the door.”

Meralda waggled her forefinger before Mug’s eyes. “Hold the tongue you don’t have, Mugglewort Ovis. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good.”

A knock sounded at the door. Meralda took a deep breath and made her way across the room to greet the Vonat wizard.

“Well, what a pleasant surprise,” said Meralda, as she threw open both of the laboratory’s ancient doors. “Welcome to the Royal Thaumaturgical Laboratory of Tirlin.”

The captain did not return what Meralda hoped was her sweetest, most winning smile.

“May I present our honored guests from noble Vonath,” said the captain, in a near growl. “Ambassador Moring.”

A thin hawkish man, clad all in severe Vonat black, clicked his heels together as he executed the smallest of Vonat bows toward Meralda.

“Colonel Stranth.”

Another heel click and bow, by another rangy Vonat. Meralda smiled at both men, who seemed intent on communicating their utter disdain for all things Tirlish with nothing but piercing, clench-jawed glares.

“Baron Stefan von Drake.”

The aging baron met Meralda’s smile with a leer and a brief whispered comment in Vonat to his fellows. The captain’s face flushed the color of day old steak.

“The Mage to the Crown of Vonat, Humindorus Nam.”

The Vonat mage came forward to stand before Meralda.

No, thought Meralda, as he approached. He hasn’t come to stand before me. He’s come to stand over me. I hadn’t realized how tall he is, from watching him in the glass.

The Vonat sauntered between his companions, even forcing the baron to take a hasty step back lest he be bowled over by the wizard.

“So.” He halted directly in front of Meralda, towering two feet over her. Forcing me to crane my head to look up, realized Meralda. What a petty little man. “The stories are true. Tirlin’s mage is a woman.”

“So I am told,” replied Meralda. “Imagine my shock upon learning my gender from a newspaper article.”

The Vonat’s pale face flushed. Someone, Meralda suspected the captain, though she did not look away from Nam to see, stifled a snort of laughter.

Meralda kept her smile wide. The Vonat’s bloodshot eyes bore into hers.

“So you’ve come for the traditional visit,” said Meralda, brightly. “Well, I certainly don’t want to keep you waiting. Won’t you come in?”

The Vonat glared. Meralda kept her smile, stepped aside, and motioned toward the laboratory.

The Vonat stepped across the threshold. His companions moved to follow, but Meralda stepped in front of them, her hand uplifted.

“Tradition demands that the mage may visit,” she said. “The rest of you may find ample seating on yonder stair.”

The captain and three Vonats lifted their voices in protest.

Meralda slammed the door.

The Vonat turned at the sound. His face fell into a scowl.

“How dare you refuse my countrymen entry,” he began.

Meralda shrugged. “Tradition demands that the Vonat mage be given a tour of the laboratory. It says nothing about ambassadors or barons.”

Humindorus bristled. His left eyelid began to twitch.

“I am not accustomed to being spoken to in this fashion.”

“How terrible. I suggest you lodge a formal complaint with your embassy. Now then.” Meralda turned and pointed to the rear of the laboratory. “Back there, you see the Royal Repository of Arcane Artifacts. Over there is the Royal Water Closet. Yonder sits my desk. The rather attractive chair is mine as well.” She put her hands on her hips and let her forced smile fall.

“I believe that concludes your tour, Mage. I’m sure you have many other duties to attend. Please feel free to drop by again when Tirlin next hosts the Accords, in twenty years or so. Good day.”

I may have pushed too far just then, Meralda thought. Indeed, the Vonat’s face was nearly purple with rage.

Would he dare lift a hand against me here?

“Insolent woman,” hissed the mage. “You know not who you abuse.”

“Oh, I know perfectly well who I’m abusing,” said Meralda. She found her smile again. “I’ll not waste time pretending to be civil. Not on the likes of you. Show yourself out, won’t you? I have work to do. Mage’s work.”

Meralda turned her back on the furious wizard, and marched toward her desk, counting the steps as she went.

One, two, three…

“We will meet again, girl. Oh yes. We will meet again.”

Meralda waved briefly over her shoulder. She did not look back.

Four, five, six…

The laboratory doors were flung open with a bang. Booted feet stamped angrily from the room. Voices were raised outside, cut off as the doors slammed shut again.

Meralda reached her desk and sagged against it.

Mug’s leaves whipped as if in a windstorm. “What was that, mistress? If he wasn’t intent on murder before he certainly is now.”

Meralda mopped sweat from her forehead and managed a grin. “Men who rage commit rash acts.”

“Murder chief among them,” said Mug. He emulated a heavy sigh. “Wait. I recognize the raging quote. Tim the Horsehead, isn’t it?”

Meralda nodded, glad Mug couldn’t hear the pounding of her heart.

“Mistress. I hope you know what you’re doing. The man’s name means life-taker, remember? No telling how many mages he killed just to print that on his stationary.”

“What was I supposed to do? Serve him tea, polish those ridiculous boots?” Meralda yanked back her chair and sat. “As long as his attention is on me, it’s not on the Tower. Heaven help us all if he finds the curseworks and realizes what they are.”

“I am taking every effort to ensure that does not happen,” said the Tower. The image in the glass shimmered and showed Humindorus Nam’s thin back stamping down the stair, his cloak flapping behind him like a pair of furled wings. “You should note, however, that the wizard left behind a listening charm when you turned your back.”

Mug squealed. The Tower continued. “Nameless rendered it useless. He has heard nothing.”

“Thank you, Nameless,” said Meralda. A shadow flitted across the ceiling.