284

******

a few years ago

******

Marleck tea stains ringed the glazed blue interior of the cup that Thenn-ar had been sipping from all day. Ro-den stood at a sterilizing basin in one of the low hazard research rooms of his facility on Thegund, looking into the cup and admiring those stains through the fog of post-coital mellowing.

Here in his hands was proof of his favorite lover’s existence and the hard work she’d devoted to his ideas and goals since they’d met. He had known her before this facility was built, but right now he felt he grasped the truth of her more clearly.

She was a few steps to his left, lying on the warm cushion of magic he’d made for them on the floor. The light from her tablet shone on her face. She was probably thinking about one or two of the experiments that were underway.

Those experiments were…there were some of them happening. There were always some happening. Ro didn’t actually care enough to bring the details to the surface of his mind when he was so relaxed. But it seemed particularly wonderful to him that Thenn was managing them here where he could watch her doing it.

She brought the tablet closer to her eyes. Perhaps she was chasing a brilliant idea of her own. He found himself eager to hear it.

“Have you caught a scent of genius, Thenn?”

She chortled. “Do I look like I have?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’m making tea for you.”

“I know, Ro. I’ll drink it.”

“I’ve decided to leave the stains in your cup. Because they are evidence of you.”

He intended to carry her deeper into understanding that revelation with his next words. But then the patch he’d adhered to his upper arm as soon as she’d suggested they take this sort of break together activated, injecting him with one of his own custom potion blends. It was a swifter, more aggressive reversal than the commonly available stuff, and sometimes it made him swing too far in the opposite direction and become irritable. He’d find time to tweak the blend again soon, but for now it was better than letting nature have its way.

He made Thenn’s tea without any further silly comments, and by the time he passed the cup to her and fell back onto the comfortable spell beside her, he was thinking like his usual self.

“You could have let yourself enjoy it,” said Thenn, frowning at her tea in lieu of him. “It’s only the two of us for a change, and I’m a considerate mate. I wouldn’t leave you to become easy prey for the beasts or bring someone who usually annoys you back to join us when you’re in that state.”

“I’d prefer to stay sharp enough to kill the beasts and the annoying people, if you don’t mind.”

She minded a little, he knew, but she wouldn’t press. This was a quarrel that never germinated.

He put his hands behind his head. The spell cradled him, but he’d mastered it too long ago to appreciate it anymore. Instead, he fixed one eye on a recording of a mishap in the main lab from a couple of days before and the other on her.

“The loss of version eighteen and the demonic sample from Gathos was a stupid mistake,” he said. “Veesa-get’s team spent a season preparing eighteen’s body for it, and I’m not sure how many times I had to talk to that dull wretch on Artona I who calls himself a scientist before I could drag that tiny sample out of his wrinkled hands. But I know I must have taken some kind of mental injury from the experience….then I pushed harder than I should have. Now we have to repair the vault again, and we hardly got any data from the Gathos piece.”

“All of that is true,” said Thenn.

“I believe my flaw may be that I always reach for more than I should. Faster than I should. The next thing and the next before the last is settled. Courage has its drawbacks.”

“Courage?” she asked.

“Of a type,” Ro answered. “My courage and confidence in my abilities gave us this lab. And they are also the roots of occasional…ambitious errors. This time they’ve ruined the vault and wasted everyone’s efforts. We race upwards only to fall half the way back down.”

Thenn set her tablet on the floor and looked at him as if she would say something, but the silence swelled around them instead.

“What will you do after we succeed with the artificial demon?” she finally asked.

“I was worried you were about to say something harsh! I’ll accept my Trimeritorious. No longer owe any of my credit to fools. Build a large addition or several to this facility. Move on to the next project.”

“What is the next project?”

“Something impressive and to the temporary betterment of lifeforms everywhere I’m sure.”

“Here on Thegund?”

“The lab is here. I haven’t had it for that long, and it’s a little difficult to move. Maybe I’ll let you decide what truths we should uncover next. We children of this neglected stonechild could pick away at her troubles for a long time, don’t you think?”

He let his old accent return for just a few words, hoping it would amuse her.

She leaned over and put her mouth close to the side of his neck. A hand rested against his cheek. He expected her lips to touch his throat, but instead her words cut his ears.

“If I were the Trimeritorious wizard Thenn-ar, my story would not end in this small place,” she said. “If my authority could carry me to wherever the broken heart of the universe lies, I would go there and study it until I understood how to fix it.”

Ro pulled back from her. “I know a wizard must bear the expectations of those who tie their lives to his, but I had been feeling like the others were applying unreasonable pressure lately…until now. I should apologize to them. They’re very reasonable after all.”

“You asked me to help you find talented people who were too ambitious to fit in on Thegund and too Thegundese to have left for a better place. Those who would believe in wizardry instead of wordchains, but not follow most wizards. Who could and would learn anything you taught, whether it is legal for you to teach it or not. Here we are. And you are our only wizard.” She rose to her feet and looked down at him. Her smile was soft, but her eyes were thoughtful. “You are a great wizard. In many ways. Almost enough.”

“Almost?”

“Worli Ro-den, you do shine. That such a bright star was born in this place and survived this place is a wonder and an excuse for pride. You have achieved much and will achieve more. You lead your people where others would never take us. We do not mind that you are sometimes reckless on the way there.”

“This has turned quite complimentary. Keep going.”

“You can be kind to those you care about,” said Thenn. “I will keep this lab running for as long as it’s yours, and I won’t regret following you wherever we go. But I don’t think you are ‘reaching for more’ in the way you imagine…and I’m afraid you can’t blame courage for anything. You have almost none of it.”

She dropped the empty cup. He might not have caught it if not for the help of one of his rings.

“I sometimes think I love you, Ro. Keep this and know that. Someone told me the tea stains are evidence of me.”

******

******

a very short while ago

******

******

Thenn-ar’s cup hadn’t broken when the box holding it flew across campus after the cart mishap. Ro had stored it well enough to protect it from anything short of another wizard’s deliberate attack. But it had been one of the last things he found that afternoon, hiding under a bush, and a few days later, as he sat in Hot Lab 7 drafting educationally scathing critiques for his students with one half of his thoughts, an eye stayed fixed on the spot where the cup now sat on his office shelf. He kept looking for damage that wasn’t there.

It was good that Jeneth-art’h’s son had skipped Ro’s classes so far this week. That flash of fear he’d felt when he’d finally found the box and looked within to check on the cup had bloomed into the kind of anger that couldn’t safely be directed at anyone. Even if he had dared to unleash it, a socially incompetent child who went around squeaking about duty, shame, and evil wouldn’t be much of an opponent. And being the son of a man who Ro-den felt a deep, old twinge of indebtedness toward made him an even more inappropriate target.

That man being the Primary would also complicate things.

Why couldn’t the little oddity have gone to DawnStep like every other knightling?

A flicker of red light from his monocle earned a fragment of his attention. It was his periodic reminder of another oddity. The flickers came precisely once every Earth hour, a sure sign that Alden Thorn had scheduled his calls through the Contract.

Ro had spent much too long considering every possible reason the human Ryeh-b’t might want to have a conversation with him and had concluded that there wasn’t a single one that should prompt him to respond.

He should have called a hundred times the first day. As if he were in a panic. The curiosity would have forced me to answer if nothing else. Scheduling them indicates he has a certain lingering feeling of entitlement to my time even after what I said to him. I won’t encourage it.

But he allowed the notification to continue flashing when he was awake. If Ro-den had endured long years of guilty twinges about the young knight who’d now become the Primary, then he might as well feel a few for the Avowed he’d taken advantage of.

They were nothing compared to his regret about everything else anyway.

I reached for too much.

Another call came. It was from the very student he couldn’t squash. Ro tried to take pleasure in ignoring Stu-art’h, but it really wasn’t enough.

The boy called again, almost immediately after the first was rejected, and both of Ro’s eyes drifted to the cup.

Ro set his monocle to show no evidence at all of Stu-art’h’s existence for the rest of the night.

There’s a certain similarity to my two pesterers, as ridiculous as that is. One was an art’h, the beloved son of one of the Triplanets’ most powerful weapons. The other was an orphaned human. But they both had an egregious ignorance about how life worked. Alden’s must be somewhat willful. I suspect Stu-art’h’s is more than a little genetic—

The next call that came was thankfully from a drone waiting with a delivery outside. Ro let it in and left his chair to collect it.

“A formal envelope? From…” He stared at it. And then at the small black hover drone, as if the thing might have an explanation.

“I only just rejected his last call. He didn’t have time to send a letter.”

But somehow, he had. Ro remembered those unwavering eyes. And that peculiar declaration that his evil would be fixed.

He opened the envelope. “It’s calligraphed by hand.”

Master Worli Ro-den,

I invite you to a place of warmth and provender, where you may exchange truths with me under the shade of my protection.

“Ha! He’s serious.” Ro had to set aside his amusement to read down the next line.

Outside Vethedya there is a House of Healing that has brought succor to me. The greeting house for travelers to that place is where many, including myself, have chosen to speak honesties and cleanse themselves before walking the road of healing. You have permission and privacy to speak there.

I would like to hear your words. And I will make a request of you. It is my belief that agreeing to the request is not beyond your means and is to the benefit of your honor. But knowing of your disposition—

“I think he’s about to insult me.”

But knowing of your disposition, I have prepared generous payment as well.

I await you at my table, which is laid with bowls of welcome. Come in truth, and I will answer in truth.

Sina Stu-art’h

“Who writes like this? Does he think I’m just going to go and confess to whatever evil he imagines I’ve done?” Ro was considering blowing his nose on the pretentious invitation and sending it back by poet courier.

Go. Don’t go. He heaved a sigh. I have to go so that he doesn’t show up on campus in the middle of the night and start shouting that I’ve done something terrible. I haven’t recently, but the accusation might sound believable.

An eye landed on the cup. His anger bubbled up.

It sounds like he wants…to make a deal. Something ‘generous’ in exchange for this confession?

Ro could see his own reflection if he focused on a few different shiny surfaces in the office. His skin was covered in tattoos. Almost all of them could be considered deals he had gotten the better half of.

He smiled.

“I won’t hurt him, Jeneth-art’h,” he said to the drone and the empty office. “I’m just going to teach him a lesson about how life works. It’s what an instructor should do.”

******

******

Shortly after Ro-den headed to the summonarium, the drone received its next set of orders from Stu-art’h. It soared across campus and down to a disposal area behind one of the buildings, where it dropped the alternative letters it held down a chute to be destroyed.

They were all addressed to Ro-den, though he’d never know about them now. They turned into compost one after the other.

******

******

Whenever it was possible, Ro liked to take control of a new environment as soon as he arrived in it. Sometimes that meant showing off. Sometimes it meant showing disdain. There were a thousand options in between, depending on the place or the people.

But the place in this case would have baffled him if anyone else had suggested it as meeting spot.

Other than the patients on their way to the House of Healing, it might see the rare local passing through. Perhaps every now and then someone who wanted to look at the spaceship under construction from an odd angle came here.

Not quite a public location or a private one, this was a building that had its own purpose. And that purpose didn’t usually include students trying to offer moral correction to their professors.

One of Ro’s eyes took in the details while the other focused on his host.

Stu-art’h sat at a table set with the promised bowls of welcome. Diamonds of dark, darker, and darkest wood patterned the floor beneath him, and the rafters overhead were amber yellow. There was a door that must lead to a ritual cleansing room. A hearth burned behind the boy’s chair. It was designed to let just a thread of scented smoke touch a guest’s nose, and Ro was sure there was a patch of herbs somewhere outside to be collected for burning and bathing. The windows at eye level were shuttered, but the room was being caressed by the last glow of the sun through an angled skylight.

The physical space was very nice, but not too much beyond what might be expected…if one ignored Declared Stu-art’h and the things he’d obviously brought here himself. The boy stood and greeted Ro like he was inviting him into the Primary’s own home, mixing normal expressions of welcome with lines of formal excess almost identical to the contents of his letter. As if he suspected Ro might not have read it all the way through.

The shade of his protection, cleansing and honesty, so on and so forth…

Ro was more attentive to his items than his words. There was a large, expensive-looking chest on the floor to the right of Stu-art’h’s chair. And an impressive stick was propped against the table.

A noisy impressive stick.

It was practically forcing Ro to know it was powerful, ancient, and meaningful. He wasn’t going to approach its territory and try to figure out exactly what it was, since defiling an art’h family heirloom—or being injured by one—wasn’t on his list of things to do during this unfortunate period of his life.

And it wasn’t such an irresistible mystery. There were a few possible reasons for its presence here.

The only other thing he made note of before accepting the welcome and heading toward the table was that the wizard who’d laid the pervading magic on this building hadn’t been a slouch. It was fairly common for places to have a carefully managed aura that helped visitors to feel what they should. This spot exuding welcome, safety, and comfort was appropriate. But those things being so potent that Ro almost lost his alertness and his urge to be spiteful was an achievement.

Which the wizard responsible clearly knew since they’d left their name written on the floor in front of the alcove as part of a dedication that welcomed all travelers who came in search of healing.

Either the healers saved this Master’s life, or it’s someone trying to show off how helpful they can be in preparation for a service evaluation.

Clever idea if it’s the second.

Powerful people would have to step over that wizard’s name on their way to receive mind healing. Mind healing tended to be a profound positive experience, so the name got a favorable polish due to the healers’ efforts.

Even the art’h family and other knights came through here, and Stu-art’h apparently found this building so comfortable that he thought it would help him fix Ro.

I might be sorry I hadn’t thought of contributing to a place like this myself if this kind of work was my specialty.

Maybe it was actually smart of Stu-art’h to hold the meeting here in familiar territory that would help him stay calm.

Ro decided to unsettle him right away.

He began instructing his student the very moment he sat down.

The boy had brought a recording page, which Ro disabled with the touch of a ring. And he’d provided very good wine, which Ro made a show of sniffing suspiciously before he began testing it for potions. Stu-art’h had also brought snacks that were simple but purposeful. Ro considered the best looking one—a kind of seed candy that the boy said was traditional in the region around his home—before picking up the bowl and dumping the whole thing into one of his own pockets.

“You’re…taking all of it?” Stu-art’h stared like he’d just seen Ro take a bite out of the table itself.

“You said I was welcome to it.”

“Of course you are,” he said, collecting himself much too quickly for Ro’s liking. “I hope you will enjoy it.”

“Perhaps I shall, now that I’ve made it safe to eat. Did you think you were clever using enchanted dishes on a guest?” He injected scorn into his tone as he whipped a collapsible cup out of another pocket and transferred some of the wine to it. “Nobody does that except in children’s stories.”

“They are well-maintained antiques,” Stu-art’h said mildly. “If you eat and drink from them with another person, you may hide secrets but not speak lies. ”

“Or I may drink out of this and say what I want to,” Ro informed him, taking a gulp of the wine and setting the cup back on the table.

“As you wish.” Stu-art’h shifted in his seat, but he really didn’t look that uncomfortable. “I was going to warn you.”

Irritatingly, that was probably true. The recording page had been openly displayed on the table, as if they were going to make a paper contract together. And the dishes weren’t enchanted in a way designed for subtlety. Ro was embarrassed that he’d almost failed to notice. Ignoring the stick and rejecting the influence of the building took a little concentration. He might have drunk straight out of the bottle if he hadn’t decided to insult his young host with the potion check instead.

“Did you rob a parent’s closet?”

Stu-art’h blinked and touched the silky gray tunic he wore. “This is Father’s, but he doesn’t mind sharing clothes for special occasions.”

“I meant for that.” Ro looked at the stick.

The most charitable assumption was that Stu-art’h was trying to be as formal as possible to show respect. A moderately charitable one was that he was afraid he wouldn’t be taken seriously, so he’d brought along something that he thought made him look more like an adult. And the uncharitable one was that he was doing what some wizards with remarkable lineages were prone to do—flaunting an ancestor’s accomplishments in hopes that they would be mistaken for his own.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

Ro suspected it wasn’t the last one. But he had loathed enough people of that sort over the course of his life that venom came more easily than sugar to his tone when he added, “Carrying something like that to a meeting with your instructor is an interesting choice.”

Stu-art’h took a sip of his own wine, then ate a piece of dried fruit before he answered.

“If you’re implying that it’s not really mine, you’re wrong. But if you sincerely mean that it’s of interest to you, and you want to examine it more closely, I will consider making the study of it a part of our agreement. The brief, non-damaging study of it.”

It’s really his? I guess they must have given it to him as a present when he declared or something like that. Assigning an heirloom to a scion of their house…

Ro ate some seed candy from his pocket.

Stu-art’h smiled. “Do you like it?”

“It’s tolerable.”

Stu-art’h smiled more.

What’s wrong with him? He’s not complaining enough.

Too hard to irritate even considering the atmosphere in this place.

Something about the boy’s behavior was definitely off compared to class. He wouldn’t always say an impropriety bothered him, but he did tend to visibly bristle at the mildest provocation. And taking all of the candy from the bowl right away was so rude that even young children would have known not to do it.

Maybe it was actually ingenious of him to meet in this place. It’s grounding him more than I thought.

Fine. We’re just getting started.

“I take it that the contents of that chest is my ‘generous payment’ for doing whatever it is that you want? Bribing an evil person! Who would have suspected it of you?”

Stu-art’h’s eyes fixed on the large chest in the corner before returning to Ro’s face. He placed his hands flat on the table in front of him. “I would first like to suggest an opportunity to you instead of a bribe.”

“Ahhhh. An opportunity.”

“If you show your willingness to correct a serious mistake you’ve made, I will ask for a meeting with your team of executioners as soon as I become a knight. I’ll request that your service be transferred to the Rapports. Our council of votaries will decide where to use your talents. You won’t be honored as a votary, of course, since you are a criminal being punished. But you will restore yourself to your former prominence more quickly working for us than you will working for LeafSong.”

“That sounds like impossible perfection,” Ro said brightly.

“Does it? The Instructor of Instructors at LeafSong agreed to yield you to us with no complaint. I have her promise. So there would be no delay.”

“Yes. What a lucky person I am! I’ve always longed to be bossed around by a bunch of votaries who see me as a particularly juicy wizardberry to dangle in front of whatever nightmares now haunt the forsaken worlds of the Ilket. I’m so smart that I can probably still do a little research with whatever remains of my intelligence after I’ve been masticated and shat out by whatever they order me to handle.”

Stu-art’h glared at him.

“Did you really think I would say yes?” Ro snorted.

“I thought it was right to give you the opportunity. I felt sure you hadn’t been afforded one like it in many years, since you are untrustworthy.”

Ro covered his eyes with his hands. “I’m blinded by your insight.”

“I hoped you would accept that, but I did not expect you to,” Stu-art’h said a little stiffly. “So. I’ve also brought payment. If you do what I ask of your own free will, I will give you that chest.”

Ro looked over at it.

Stu-art’h took a deep breath. “It contains what remains of the hide of a demon killed by my grandfather Hn’tyon Renjen-art’h, late in his life. There are a few claws in there, too.”

“Oh…is that all?” Ro asked. As if he didn’t want to dive for the chest and open it up to inspect the contents immediately. “Late in his life” was not an irrelevant detail. It would almost certainly have been a fascinating demon.

The Primary’s son gazed at him steadily. “Do you want it?”

Now was the time to be at his most careful. Ro hadn’t expected something like this to be on offer, and he did intend to leave here with that chest if it was at all possible. “Yes, I want it. But not enough to do anything particularly inconvenient for it. You may have noticed my research at LeafSong is somewhat different than what I used to do. And I’m busy teaching.”

Stu-art’h didn’t seem flustered.

I hoped to fluster him a little. What he wants might be more trouble than I want to deal with if he’s trying to pay with this.

“The hide was modified to remove the taint, of course,” said Stu-art’h. “The goal was to preserve some of the demon’s abilities in the final material. That process was successful to an unusual degree, possibly because the demon was so stable…for a demon. Compared to its assumed origin species, it exhibited smaller size, a synergistic relationship with wind, a remarkable camouflaging ability—”

Ro shot a regretful look at the chest. “That does sound fascinating.”

No doubt Stu-art’h knew it was valuable. But at his age, raised in his circumstances, he might not realize quite how valuable. It wasn’t only chaos researchers who wanted such things. Crafter wizards and anyone who studied anything remotely related to the properties the demon had exhibited in life would also be after it. Ro’s brain was still scrawling the list of things he could do with it.

He’d probably only allow himself to truly experiment with a tiny bit of the hide. Everything else would need to be carefully planned and executed to maximize his chances of success. He needed a sure victory or three in the coming years, and this was the kind of opportunity that couldn’t be wasted on anything too risky.

Even if he doesn’t completely grasp what he’s giving me, the boy’s not that stupid. Downplaying the offer too much would be a mistake.

“It’s very fascinating, actually. If it were a few years ago…” Ro shook his head. “But now I’m not sure when I might have a real chance to work with something like this. It might even be confiscated by my executioners and given to someone else. As recompense, you know. So I doubt it’s worth quite as much to me as you must be hoping.”

It would never be confiscated. They hadn’t even managed to confiscate the artificial demon. But the hide being confiscated did sound like a thing that might happen to a less competent criminal.

“I will send you the information on it now,” Stu-art’h said stubbornly.

That’s nice of you. Don’t give up on our negotiation! I’ll help you tidy whatever dark corner of your house you found that lovely chest in.

Ro read through the information that appeared in his monocle hungrily. This was good. Better than he’d hoped it would be in several ways, worse in only a couple. Its properties hadn’t been completely understood by the last people who’d been allowed to play with it, back when Ro-den was closer to his own boyhood than where he was now. That was excellent news. It meant they hadn’t been bold enough to risk damaging it.

Probably scared of Renjen-art’h.

Which is understandable, to be fair.

“I see,” he said politely. “Yes…yes, I would like to have this. But that will depend on what you’re expecting in return, Declared Stu-art’h.”

He had no idea what the boy would ask for, but reminding him of his oaths seemed like one way of leading him toward the conclusion that giving Ro the demon’s skin was at least a little beneficial to the Triplanets. It had obviously been sitting in storage. The art’hs hadn’t hatched it, so Ro might as well take it out of their nest.

He stopped looking at his monocle and placed all his thoughts on the young wizard in front of him. “How can I help you?”

Stu-art’h leaned forward, as if he might whisper, but instead, he suddenly spoke like he was trying to hammer Ro over the head with the words.

“Samuel Alden Thorn.”

Ro didn’t flinch with shock, but that was only because he was focused on presenting himself a certain way.

“He will be here soon,” Stu-art’h said, still hammering. “My family has been arranging for him to come to this House of Healing for treatment, and he has an appointment this evening. He has a contract tattoo that I believe is yours. Release him from that contract before the last of the sunlight fades from the sky. I will watch you do it. After it is done, you may have the hide. And the chest that contains it.”

Ro needed all of his attention on Stu-art’h right now, but a mote of it drifted off to touch those repetitive phone calls he’d been ignoring.

A warning? I might have made a mistake. How did this happen? What’s happened exactly?

“I wasn’t aware your family was taking care of Alden in that way,” he said. He sounded calm. He wasn’t. “I’m glad you are.”

The secrecy agreement should hold up to anything normal a mind healer might want to do, but how normal would the mind healing of a human be? And in an addled state, he might not avoid probing questions well. He might not even realize what questions are probing.

Has it been fine up until now? Or is something the healer uncovered why we’re here?

Why is it just Stu-art’h here and not one of his parents?

“Why do you think Alden wants the contract ended? We built a close understanding in the brief time we knew each other, and even after what’s happened, I’m completely confident he wouldn’t want it gone.”

What he wants is irrelevant. This can’t happen. I have to crush it.

In the future, certain people realizing that he’d told Alden how to abuse a weak spot in the Earth Contract and take full advantage of an ancient skill might be fine. The crime could be overlooked. Or it could be overshadowed. And the Primary, upon his eventual discovery of the nature of Alden’s skill, would hear that Ro had made sure it arrived in his hands earlier and in a more useful state of development than it would have if the human had remained ignorant. That addendum to their secrecy agreement was supposed to be a bit of a gibe, a bit of a gift—Ro getting the final word in a conversation that Jeneth-art’h thought had ended long ago.

Right now, though? Anyone finding out Ro had threatened, even in a tiny way, the stability of the Earth contract would be impossible to manage. It didn’t matter whether it had caused harm or not; it was the kind of thing that could and would be used as evidence that he should never be allowed to summon any Avowed ever again. And it was best if Alden wasn’t able to describe in detail what he had taken from the lab. And then there was what would happen if the executioners used this as an excuse for an interview with the Ryeh-b’t.

Never mind nuance. Every infraction, even infractions that were barely infractions on an average day, would be placed on Ro and given nine times the proper weight.

There might be enough infractions there to bury me forever.

“I realize you’re young,” he said, just a little too hastily. Careful. I must be careful now. “But a secrecy agreement between wizards and Avowed is a common thing, and it’s something that shouldn’t be ended at the insistence of another wizard. That’s improper. And unfair to Alden Ryeh-b’t.”

“Are you thinking more about what’s good for Alden right now? Or more about what’s good for yourself?” Stu-art’h’s expression had darkened.

Why? Is this him trying to make up for that day with the mishnen? Trying to bring honor to his aunt’s commendation? What does he know?

I need to know what he knows.

“I realize it may sound unbelievable, but I’m thinking of Alden’s wellbeing every bit as much as my own. I regret that he was lost on Thegund. I don’t wish him harm.”

The boy paused for long enough to give Ro a sliver of hope that he might simply accept it. With a personality like his, some degree of naivety—

“Be glad then,” said Stu-art’h, sitting straight as a reachertree trunk. “After you remove the secrecy agreement from Alden, he can tell me if he wishes I hadn’t done this. I’ll apologize to you both, and I’ll leave you alone so that you can form your agreement again. If that happens, I’ll give you the chest anyway, even if I don’t learn what the contract tattoo covers. So if you’re right, there will be no harm done at all.”

Ro needed to think of a reason why that couldn’t happen.

A reason that someone who suffered from an egregious ignorance about how life worked would understand.

“Is there something wrong with my solution, Master Ro-den?” Stu-art’h asked.

“Wizards do not usually ask other wizards about their private contracts with Avowed,” he said. “It’s unprofessional.”

“I think professionalism is less important than this matter.”

“I think you and I should at least delay this discussion until another day and not confuse an Avowed with something like this. Especially an Avowed who’s undergoing mind healing. The stress—”

Stu-art’h reached for the stick.

Why in the name of the Mother is he reaching for that thing? I need to make an opportunity for myself here somehow.

“I hate to accuse you of anything, but I don’t think your parents gave you permission to give away that demon hide.”

“They didn’t,” said Stu-art’h, fingers closing around wood. “But they’re going to be less upset about that than other things. And I think one demon hide that nobody’s using is worth Alden being able to talk freely about his skill.”

Ro’s heart stopped.

May the unclimbing beasts feed on me slowly. No, may they feed on this boy slowly. The only good thing is that his parents must not know anything about any of this. Yet.

“His skill? I don’t know what you mean.”

Do I have to do something to him?

He didn’t want to. There was something wrong with Stu-art’h’s mind. It was never said loudly, but it was said. Modifying a fragile mind wasn’t a realistic thing for Ro to do. Maybe with potions…

What am I thinking? I might drop dead if I actually try to harm the Primary’s son.

“You know exactly what I mean,” said Stu-art’h. “I know because I can tell when you lie.”

“What?”

“Traveler, you sit at this lord’s own table, under the shadow of his protection,” Stu-art’h said in a resonant voice. “You have accepted my invitation to come in truth and be answered in truth. You have eaten of my food and drunk of my wine. You have warmed yourself by my fire. You have lied thrice—more than thrice actually—and now I command you as the lord of this land to speak no more lies at my table.”

The little greeting house, so comforting and welcoming, suddenly felt colder than a Thegundese night. Ro’s stomach roiled, and his mouth soured as though the candy he’d eaten and the wine he’d drunk were poison. He tried to push back against whatever ancient rule he’d fallen afoul of, but having never been attacked by a lunatic invoking the powers of their ancestors in the form of a ritual courtesy trap…he didn’t know where to start.

“I haven’t lied about—”

The table tried to kill him for those foolish, panicked words. That was what it felt like. It pulled at him like it planned to lay claim to him forever.

“No, don’t hurt him for that one,” Stu-art’h said gently, tapping his stick against the table. “It’s not necessary yet.”

Ro leaped out of his chair and started ordering a teleport out. Traps were rather hard to pull off in modern times if you didn’t immediately incapacitate the wizard you’d trapped. And he wasn’t incapacitated.

“I don’t think you should leave,” Stu-art’h said quickly but calmly. “I won’t stop you, but if you leave, I will immediately call Hn’tyon Esh-erdi and tell him there has been an emergency that necessitates the breaking of Alden’s contract with you. He won’t question it. I think he wants to do it anyway, but obviously you would have made sure Alden couldn’t ask for something like that himself when you established the agreement with him.

“If you find some way to kill me even here in this place and under the Mother’s eye, then my final will has already been recorded. It includes that same message for Esh-erdi plus a message for every single member of my family blaming you for my death. The renowned Healer Yenu-pezth has promised to test my mind for unusual influences tonight. She knows my mind better than I do myself, and given the nature of the request, nothing I can say will stop her from conducting that test now. She will also be here swiftly if I miss my appointment time.

“I’d rather not die or be hurt of course, but I think I’m fairly safe at this point. I’m very glad you came and ate and lied. I had other plans in case you didn’t do all of those things, but this was my favorite one.”

“This…” Ro felt the cold, dark walls looming over him. He was afraid the table could still attack if it was given an order. “We’re outside Vethedya. This isn’t your family’s land. Not in the memory of any living person’s deadest grandmother! Even if your family can do a thing like this…even…you shouldn’t be able to do something like this here!”

It was the roar of a cornered animal. He knew it and couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it.

“This house is mine,” Stu-art’h said in an informative tone. “It’s freshly built of art’h wood, and it’s art’h land until dawn tomorrow, when I will formally gift it to the House of Healing. It’s part of a ritual I had custom designed to go with my walking stick. The stick is more powerful here, too, now. I was worried everyone would question me about the excess of all of this, but because I’ve been coming here since I was a child and I’m soon to go to first binding, it seems like the kind of extravagant magic I might do to mark my adulthood and thank the healers. Only Master Leeter-zis was suspicious, given my urgency and some of my more specific instructions. He received a portion of the materials as payment in exchange for helping me to arrange everything and doing excellent work. There were hundreds of volunteers he gathered here earlier today, calling me their wizard and blessing me as part of the ritual. I was so worried you or someone else inconvenient would hear about it before you arrived.”

The boy looked around the house like he was proud of it. “I’m glad this will be here to welcome others who need mind healing in the future. You can sit down and eat more if you’re not too scared of the table. It’ll only punish you if you lie again while you sit at it. And the quantity consumed doesn’t affect the strength of the magic, so you might as well have a meal if you’re hungry.”

Ro sat down entirely because he didn’t want to look like he was scared of sitting down. It was as much of a victory as he could claim.

“Nobody else would do something like this.” His words sounded pitiful, but they weren’t lies.

“That’s probably because most people can’t,” Stu-art’h said.

“That’s not why!”

“It’s also probably because most people aren’t dealing with you. I know you’re smarter and more experienced than me, so you can’t be allowed to have any room to wriggle at all.”

Ro did not feel smart at the moment.

“Father cut and prepared most of this timber himself,” Stu-art’h said, touching the table and gesturing at the floor. “With his natural strength instead of his magic. It’s something he does when he needs to think.”

“I hope he is enraged until the day he dies at how you’ve used it.”

Stu-art’h had the audacity to let out a little laugh. He ate a roasted nut from one of his accursed bowls of welcome.

“I think I know what Alden’s skill may be,” he said. “But I will not ask you to tell me. It would be too easy now to find out based on how you lie. And unlike some people, I respect his right to do and say what he wants about his own self.”

There it was. Ro’s only hope.

This intractable creature intended to save Alden Thorn. Therefore, Ro needed Alden to say, as quickly and loudly as possible, that he didn’t require saving.

He forced himself to eat another piece of candy while he kept an eye on the teleportation alcove.

I will convince him. He will trust me. I just need to be his friendly old instructor, Joe.

******

******

now

******

******

Alden wasn’t sure if his existence could ring, like ears that had just suffered from a loud sound, but that was how he thought of the feeling as he jumped out of the alcove, gripping his cantaloupe and his grapes. Despite Stuart’s murder face and the staff he’d just swung, being beside him was much better than being trapped in a closet-sized space by Ro-den’s magic.

“What’s happening?” he said. “Someone tell me what—”

“Stay behind me, Alden!” Stuart said, pointing the stick at Ro-den, who was looking at Alden with one eye and the end of the stick with the other. “I’ll protect you.”

Do I need protecting? Ro-den did lunge at me and try to wall me in. That’s bad.

“Alden, please explain to Stu-art’h that—”

“What were you going to do to him!?” Stuart demanded, pressing the stick closer to Ro-den, almost touching his chest. “There is NO GOOD REASON for you to say secret words to him or prevent him from talking to me!”

Alden eyed the professor warily. He targeted Stuart, thinking he’d feel better if he had a nearby entruster at least.

“I entrust you with the nearest chair and ask you to protect yourself with it from any and all harm! Worli Ro-den as the lord who has fed and sheltered you I will exact—”

“Wait, wait, wait now, Stu-art’h! I was just trying to give Alden the choices that you aren’t willing to present to him. You boys both need to open your thoughts to reason before something—”

“I should skewer you! Did you use magic on him? Alden, did he?”

“I’m fine.” Alden was backing toward the nearest chair, trying to keep an eye on the threat and his friend and figure out what they were both talking about. He’d just dropped the grapes onto the table and put his right hand on the chair when the threat suddenly threatened. Alden caught a twitch of motion near Ro-den’s right hand and saw the sheen of a string slinking out of his sleeve to wrap around his thumb.

“Auriad!” he shouted.

And since he couldn’t get between Ro-den and Stuart with his chair shield in time, he flung the only other thing he had. A cantaloupe shot across the room and slammed into Ro-den’s face.

Or into something that sprang into reality around Ro-den’s face. Maybe. Alden barely caught a glimpse of it, but instead of howling in pain from a broken nose, Ro-den was blinking in apparent confusion as melon shards spattered the wall behind him and the suitcase at his knees.

Alden ran at him with the chair, its legs pointed forward to join Stuart’s stick. “Is that thing like a giant wand?” he asked. “He was moving his auriad! Don’t we need to get out of here? Should I—”

Both Artonans were glancing at him in between watching each other.

“You threw fruit at his head.”

“Why did you throw fruit at me?”

“I’ve never had that fruit before,” Stuart said. “This is your fault, Ro-den!”

“I thought he was going to attack you with his auriad!” Alden exclaimed.

“No, it was just moving a little because he’s scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“Sit down at my table and say those words!”

Ro-den straightened himself and flicked a piece of melon off his shoulder onto the floor. He turned both eyes on Alden. “I see now,” he said slowly. “If a simple motion of my auriad makes you think I’m trying to attack Stu-art’h, you really have no trust in me at all.”

He looked sad. He sounded a little sad.

Alden’s emotions stirred. Was it wrong of me to throw the cantaloupe? That might have been wrong. I don’t want to hurt anybody.

The hot air in this room smelled sweet and melony.

“Alden…I release you from all the limitations placed on you by the contract we have together, symbolized by the mark we called the Triangle of Absolute Secrecy,” Ro-den said in English.

Alden stilled, then gasped as the words finally made it through his confusion.

Ro-den gave him a familiar, Joeish smile. “I see you’re relieved. But I hope, if there is even the smallest amount of forgiveness in you, that you will hear me out in private before you reveal what was hidden. Telling these secrets is something you may not want to do. I would like to explain why to you.”

Stuart looked at Alden, his whole face lighting up with excitement. Ro-den swept past them both and took a seat in one of the chairs at the table. “Stu-art’h, Alden Thorn now has no contract with me. As you requested.”

Stu waited like he was expecting something to happen for a few seconds. Then he beamed even more. “It’s true! Alden, I did it. I hope it was all right! I hope you’re all right!”

“Alden, I’d like to talk to you alone,” Ro-den said a bit more insistently.

“Do you mean him any harm at all?” Stuart demanded.

“Of course not.”

“Do you intend to lie to him?”

“No.”

“Do you intend to mislead him?”

“I won’t try to.”

Alden thought there was a pause before Ro-den said that. A very slight one. But maybe it was only his imagination.

Stuart caught his eye. “He’s telling the truth,” he said uncomfortably. “I’ve made it so that he has to when he sits at that table.”

Is that why this place looks different than it used to? Stuart did something to it?

“But,” said Stuart, “if…Alden, part of the secret is about your skill, isn’t it? I wish you’d tell me before having a private talk with him. If you don’t want to, I’ll understand. But…I wish it.”

He did this for me, Alden realized. He figured out what was wrong all by himself. I’m not going to have to act like a dick to him and hide the truth for months and months.

That chest in the corner was familiar. What was it doing here? And, somehow, Stuart had gotten Ro-den here, too. And he’d gotten a magic truth table and some kind of epic magic staff involved. There was clearly a story here Alden didn’t know the half of.

But he did all of this just so I could talk to him.

Alden looked at Ro-den. The professor seemed to be trying to convey something serious with his eyes. He glanced at the door.

“If you want to say something, say it now at the truth table,” said Alden. “This is your only chance to convince me a private chat is that important.”

Ro-den took a deep breath. He looked down at the table then back at Alden. “Very well. I believe that if you reveal what was hidden by our agreement, if you reveal what you learned during our final lesson, you’ll most likely be dead before you double your age. You’ll probably die a a more useful death than most people. But you’ll still die.”

“No he won’t!” Stuart said, his voice piercing.

“Is he lying?” Alden asked. He didn’t think Ro-den was. It feels bad to hear it. It’s scary.

“He’s not,” said Stuart, “but he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He—”

“I’m much more experienced than either of you,” said Ro-den. “So now would be a good time to hear me. And believe me.”

Alden thought. It wasn’t the kind of warning you could ignore without any thought.

“I believe you’ve told the truth,” he said finally. “I believe there’s more than a small chance you’re right.”

Stuart made a noise.

Ro-den nodded and rose from his seat, already turning toward the door like he’d lead the way outside for their talk.

“It’s just that it doesn’t change my mind about anything,” Alden continued. “I already made my choice. I’m reaching for something important to me, so if I die trying to grab onto it…. I want to live, but I’m still going to reach.”

Ro-den opened his mouth, but Alden was already turning away from him to smile at Stuart.

“Stuart, thank you so much for this. My skill is an old one called The Bearer of All Burdens.” He felt his grin widening as the words came without any resistance. “I’ve really, really wanted to tell you about it. Thank you for figuring out I needed help. Let’s go kill demons with it. You and me.”

******