Alta

Toreth shook himself all over, like a dog. “They would not listen,” he said dully. “I never got past the first words. They told me not to meddle in things I could not understand. They treated me like a boy who has come to complain that a war chariot on the way to battle has broken his toy.”

“So—” Kiron dared to hope. “The Magi don’t know that you know what they are doing?”

Toreth shook his head. “No. Yes. I don’t know,” he said, finally. “I didn’t tell them. I hardly got more than a word or two in. I am disgraced, you see. They brought in my father, and lectured me in front of him. Then they brought in my betrothed, Nofret, and did the same. They cannot take my dragon, or my place in the Jousters, but they have made it clear that a dog in the street will have more chance for advancement from the ranks than I. I am not—quite—being declared a traitor. But I am being held up as an example of how dissension aids the enemy. They cannot cut me from the succession, but—oh, Kiron!—I had not seen them, close up, in more than two years, and now they looked no older than thirty! And the Magi are the same! I did not see a single gray hair among them all!”

So. They have another way to solve this. They can, and will, outlive us.

“At this rate, you will die of old age, and they will still be sitting on the Twin Thrones,” Kiron replied, a cold numbness spreading over him.

Toreth’s head sagged. “We are defeated,” he said. “And I am disgraced and friendless.”

“Ah,” said Gan, putting his head around the doorway, his hair all tousled from sleeping. “So I am no friend, then?”

Toreth started; clearly, he had been so sunk in his misery that he had not heard Gan come behind him. “No!” he protested. “But—surely your parents will not wish you to associate yourself with a known traitor—”

“My parents can take themselves off on a scenic tour of hell before they tell me who my friends will be,” Gan said pleasantly. “And I suspect every lad in the wing will say the same.”

“Besides, most of them won’t have to defy their parents,” Kiron pointed out. “Certainly Lord Ya-tiren has no love for the Magi. Enough of us are commoners that their parents will not care. We followed you before; nothing has changed that I can see.”

Toreth looked like a man who has suddenly been reprieved. “Do you mean that?” he pleaded.

“Of course he means it,” said Oset-re with irritation. “Didn’t we all stay up most of the night to greet you when you returned? Kiron is right, nothing has changed, except the opinions of a few stupid people whose parties you wouldn’t have wanted to attend anyway! Now go to bed, Toreth. We’ll discuss all of this later.”

He withdrew; Gan did the same. Toreth stared at Kiron as if he could not believe what had just happened.

“Go to sleep, Toreth,” Kiron said. “Oset-re is right.”

“But—” Toreth began.

“Go to sleep.”

Toreth stumbled into his chamber at the back of the pen, but at least now he looked less like a walking corpse. Kiron went back to his own pen, tiptoed around Avatre, and settled back into his cot for a little more precious time before he had

to get up.

But he had trouble finding sleep again. Too many thoughts were buzzing in his head. Finally he got up, and went to see if Aket-ten might be awake at this early hour. She had always been used to going to the Temple for Dawn Rites—was she still waking that early anyway?

She was.

He found her in the courtyard of her chambers, and with her, Heklatis.

“Toreth came back,” he said as they looked up, and gave them the gist what the prince had said.

Heklatis heaved a sigh of relief. “They looked at him and saw a handsome, muscle-bound fool,” the Healer replied. “Good!”

Aket-ten looked almost faint with relief.

Kiron felt a stab of that same emotion he’d gotten at the thought of anyone else riding Avatre. This time he knew it for what it was.

Jealousy. He was jealous that Aket-ten should be that concerned for Toreth. It shocked and surprised him to the core.

He covered it by going in and sitting down. “I don’t think he’s safe—” he began.

“Neither do I!” Heklatis said firmly. “I will be doing what work I can to safeguard him. This is not over; the Great Ones could still die. There are always accidents, illnesses. Now that they know that he knows—he is not safe. Fortunately, it only takes a little magic, properly used, to defeat greater magic.” He grinned mirthlessly, showing a great many teeth. “And I have the advantage over them. I know how they are schooled; they do not know how I am.”

Kiron took a deep breath. “I came here to ask if the two of you can do something. I want to find a way to remove the Jousters from both armies.”

They both looked at him, as if wondering where in the world that idea came from, and why he would ask them to help with it.