Magiere paced the short path between the bunks in their barracks room and the open hallway. Every time she reentered the room, she saw Chap perched next to the table, his expression somehow sad.

She understood little of what Wynn had explained throughout the afternoon and evening, as the young sage worked to speak with the dog in their halting manner. The study's floor was now covered in chalk marks.

Fay were as old as the world itself, so legends said, and for the most part they were considered to be myth and superstition. Varied religions had their stories of how life began, but older still were the tales of the world's making.

Earth, water, air, fire, and spirit.

Mountain, wave, wind, flame, and tree.

Solid, liquid, gas, energy, and essence.

Perhaps divine by some faiths' standards, these elemental intelligences had been the Fay, whose mingling brought the world into existence.

The sages believed humans were the oldest race, and the mingling of the first humans with these Fay, when the world was young, gave birth to new beings. In turn, these beings mingled among themselves and from them, down through the ages, descended the new races. The Elvish word for these Fay-derived races was Uirishg-which meant either "Fay-blooded" or "Children of the Fay."

Amongst the trees and forests were the elves. The people of earth and mountain were the dwarves, though Magiere had never seen nor heard of any in this land. The Fay-descended races of wind, wave, and flame were not known to Wynn.

In the far-forgotten past behind all of them were the Fay, the elemental beings.

Magiere looked up at Leesil lying in the top bunk. One arm thrown over his face, he ignored both her and the hound.

"Wynn told you," she said. "He doesn't control us. It's more a touch of thoughts, an urge built upon a memory-nothing more. That we weren't aware of what was happening"-she glanced at Chap-"is why we never ignored or dismissed it."

"And how many times have we been unaware?" Leesil asked. "How many turns in our lives were made because he wormed into our thoughts?"

Chap barked twice.

"Quiet!" Leesil snapped. His arm dropped, and he rolled his head enough to look at Magiere.

"I don't know," she finally answered.

"And what else is he concealing?" he asked in a snide tone. "Why are we so privileged to have his company?"

Magiere shook her head. "I don't know," she repeated.

"Well, I should be used to living in the dark by now," he muttered.

His words made her pause, as if he spoke of something else, but there was no time for it.

"We know Chap… thinks… the murderer isn't part of the council," Magiere offered, hoping to divert Leesil's attention to more immediate matters.

In truth, she didn't care to contemplate the mystery of the dog any further. The reasons for, and the implications of, Chap's hidden nature following them all these years were too overwhelming.

"The best Wynn can make out," Magiere continued, "is that Chap was looking for scent on the parchments. If an undead signed for the purchase, there might have been a lingering trace, but he found nothing. It's probably been far too long and the scent is gone."

Chap stood up on all fours and yipped at her, tail switching.

"I told you to be quiet!" Leesil shouted at the animal.

"That means ‘yes, " Magiere said tiredly. "It's something Wynn arranged with him." She let out a deep sigh. "One for ‘yes, two for ‘no, three for ‘maybe' or ‘uncertain. "

Leesil's head flopped down on the pillow again.

"Think you can do better?" Magiere asked. "She's done the best she can, considering she's trying to talk with some… one… who can't write or speak. She says his thoughts or way of thinking-as Fay or what have you-isn't the same as ours, making it hard to communicate with him."

A cold, wet lump prodded her hand, startling her.

Chap had inched to her side, shoving his muzzle into her hand with a soft whine. His tongue whipped between her fingers.

"How much of our lives has been shaped by him?" Leesil said, and leaned on one elbow to peer down at them. "Would we even have met if he hadn't forced it that night?"

"Does it matter?" she asked. "We're here, together, for a purpose. And I have to believe we'd still be here, whether or not he had anything to do with it."

Leesil's amber eyes narrowed and sent an ache through her chest. She wanted to comfort him but was uncertain how. Then a high-pitched voice filled the room.

"What's the problem? You burn something else down already?"

In the doorway stood young Vatz in fresh oversize pants and shirt, his frazzled hair only slightly tamer than when he'd left this morning. A small relief spread through Magiere.

"Did you find your uncle?" she asked.

"Yup. Kept switching between moaning like he'd lost his mama and wanting to skin you for supper, till I told him about the money. Then he started growling about lost income while the place is being rebuilt."

Magiere sighed again.

"Had supper yet?" Vatz asked. "I ain't eaten much since last night."

"I'll find Wynn and get you something," she answered. "Stay here."

Perhaps the boy's presence and his ignorance of the evening's events would provide a safeguard between Leesil and Chap.

Magiere headed for the study, her mind filled with questions concerning the hound that refused to be dismissed. It was too much coincidence that an animal born to hunt undeads-though perhaps that was just a consequence of his true nature-should end up in the company of a dhampir, let alone a reluctant and retired assassin. When more immediate concerns were met and their task for the council completed, she hoped Leesil would gather himself enough that they could turn to finding answers.

When she entered the study, there was no sign of Wynn. A cold lamp sat on the desk where the young sage had been working.

She headed for the side passage leading to kitchen. In the dimness of the entry way, a soft light called her attention, and she glanced down.

The topaz amulet glowed brightly.

Magiere spun about.

There was no one in the room. The sound of booted footsteps echoed from the main hallway, and she started to run.

"Leesil!" she shouted. "My sword!"

She passed the front entrance but saw no one. Before she headed down the hall toward their room, Chap came toward her with Leesil close behind. The dog still limped, but he dashed past as Leesil tossed her the falchion. His punching blade was in his right hand. Vatz came running behind, loaded crossbow wrapped in his little arms.

"Get back in that room!" she ordered him.

His expression clouded, and his angry little mouth opened.

"No arguments," she snapped. "Move!"

A wail echoed down the hall behind her as Chap burst into full cry, and Magiere whirled to follow without waiting to see that Vatz obeyed.

As she reached the study again, Wynn and Tilswith scurried in from the side hallway to the kitchen. Leesil and Chap entered behind Magiere, and the hound circled the room with a continuous rumble as he sniffed about. He let out a growl as he passed by Wynn's table, and then turned and trotted back into the main hallway.

Magiere hesitated before going after him. The two sages hung back.

"Who was just here?" she asked.

"Our friend, Chane," Wynn replied, out of breath and her voice unsteady.

"Good scholar, but…" The domin paused, gripping Wynn's arm, his voice touched with sadness. "He is tall, noble look… red-brown hair behind ears."

"Oh, merciless saints!" Leesil snapped, and he bolted after Chap. "Come on. They've been inviting an undead for tea and studies."

Magiere followed. As she rounded the corner to the front door, she saw it already ajar. Leesil ran into the night ahead of her, and Chap's wail echoed from the street outside.