Thud. Thud.

Pain exploded in Xandrian's head and leg as the bookshelf toppled onto him, pitching hundreds of dusty tomes onto the stone floor of his master's study. The room seemed to be spinning, the air foul with the stench of ozone from their attacker's lightning blasts. "Master," he croaked as he tried to free himself. Homis stopped him with a flick of his hand, and then reached out with the other to hurl a crackling ball of flame at the man who continued to advance toward them.

Damn you, Master - let me help you! Xandrian struggled against the stonestill spell, but to no avail. Screams of rage remained in his throat, trapped in frozen vocal chords.

Eyelids remained open, helplessly witnessing the final, brutal strike.

Thud. Thud.

Homis fell first to his knees, and then he crumpled to the floor.

Thud thud thud thud.

Heavy footfalls rang in Xandrian's ears, and a blur of black passed him as the man strode to his master's desk. A hand was raised, and the wood tore and splintered apart, revealing the hidden spellbooks within. "Did you think you could deny me these spells, Homis?" the man asked, almost conversationally, while he plucked the books from their cache. "You should have taught them to me when I was your student, when I was the one named as your Reader."

Thud thud.

Two vicious kicks struck Xandrian's ribs, and more pain bloomed and raced along his side. "But you chose him instead - a nameless wretch you found filthy and squalling in the road. Were you tired of playing lover, and wanted to play father instead? I am by far the better mage, Homis... even better than you. Now it is time for the student to overtake the master." The man extended his hand toward Homis' inert form.

No! Xandrian screamed wordlessly.

A flash of crackling blue-white light, the stench of burnt flesh.

Noooooo!

Thudthudthudthud.

"Xandrian!"

"No!" The cry was torn from Xandrian's throat as he sat up in his bed. His heart was pounding, and sweat ran in rivulets down his bare chest, soaking the sheet that pooled about his waist.

The nightmare again. He heaved great gulping breaths of air while he struggled to clear his head of those awful, final moments in Homis' study.

"Xandrian! Open the door!"

He recognized the voice; it was H'rit - although what H'rit was doing outside his chambers at this ungodly hour was another matter. Xandrian blinked blearily and glanced out the window, and the pale streaks of light on the edge of the horizon told him it was just before dawn. "Coming," he called. He rubbed his face, feeling the rasp of stubble against his palms, and then threw back the covers. Bedsprings creaked as he rose from his bed, and he winced when he put his full weight on his still-healing leg. Xandrian shrugged into his morning-robe and walked over to the door, scowling at the limp that accompanied his gait. He undid the latch, pulled the door open and growled, "What the hell do you want at this hour?"

H'rit was impeccably dressed, as always; the folds of his green Regenerist tunic were neatly pressed, and his Journeyman's belt was properly tied to fully display the intricate knots of his completed Studies and Skills. He glanced at Xandrian's disheveled robe and sweat-drenched hair. "Another nightmare?" He frowned when he saw the way Xandrian's left leg didn't entirely touch the floor. "That leg is still giving you pain? Why didn't you tell me?" He reached out toward the affected leg. "Here, let me-"

Xandrian batted his hand away. "Leave it," he said. "It's healing, just slowly. Why are you here? It's barely dawn, you know." He walked back to his bed and sat down while H'rit entered the room and shut the door.

His friend's gaze narrowed, and he fingered the fully knotted Healing strand in his belt. "I have achieved every knot in Healing," he said. "I could completely heal that leg, Xan, if you'll let me. And you know this. I have to wonder why you won't let me - do you fear your anger will fade with your pain?"

"It's a reminder," Xandrian replied shortly.

"A rebuke, more like," H'rit retorted. "An undeserved one, seeing as Homis stonestilled you. That was rather cruel of him, I must say - although I imagine he didn't realize that he left you unable to look away." He examined the tips of his brown suede boots that peeked out from under his tunic. "I... am grateful that Kanera's qi blast rendered me unconscious. It was hard enough to see the aftermath of what that monster did to her; I think I would not be sane if I had seen her die."

Xandrian had his doubts about H'rit's sanity on a good day, but he kept that opinion to himself. "I'll ask again, H'rit - why are you here?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to stave off the headache that threatened to settle between his brows.

H'rit let the belt strand slip from his fingers. "The Archmage wants to see us in her chambers."

Xandrian looked up, every muscle in his body tensing. "She's learned something?" He stood and quickly shed his robe as he strode to his wardrobe, not caring about his nudity. Opening the doors, he pulled out a pair of soft wool breeches and a linen shirt. He tugged the shirt over his head. "She found the bastard?" he asked while he pulled on the breeches.

H'rit shrugged. "I don't know. I hope so - but I'm afraid all I know is that we've been summoned."

"To her chambers, not her office or study. And at an hour when no one would believe that she would voluntarily be conscious." Xandrian reached for the dove gray tunic that marked him as an Ephemerist and slipped it on, tying his Journeyman's belt securely around his narrow waist.

His friend nodded. "I would agree that this is not an official meeting. Also, Kisannon sent Jerosh to wake me and convey her wishes, and not the usual... novice."

Xandrian grunted. "Bed-toy, you mean." He fished around under his bed, retrieved a pair of worn leather boots and donned them. "Well, let's go see what she has to say." They left his chambers and the two men walked down the deserted hallways of the Collegium in silence; by mutual decision neither of them called any light.

~.~

They walked silently, unerringly in the pre-dawn darkness through a maze of passageways that would leave a novice (and most apprentices) utterly lost. Xandrian decided that one benefit to growing up in the Collegium's stone citadel was knowing the place like the back of his hand. This place had been his and H'rit's playground, although neither had been the kind of child who truly played. They had been quiet and studious children, and after their lessons they had explored their kingdom and cataloged its hills and valleys. Hills were the high towers, where they would perch on window ledges and slate rooftops and look out over the Collegium and the lands beyond while they talked of magic and shared scraps of spells that were learned by listening through keyholes; valleys were the catacomb-like stacks and oubliettes of the great Library where they would take turns sneaking scrolls and spellbooks under their robes and then find a dusty, out-of-the-way niche to pore over the contents and copy them into their already overflowing notebooks.

Xandrian felt a pang of nostalgia for those younger days, when in their childish arrogance they assumed they would grow up to be mighty wizards.

They silently crossed the moon-streaked courtyard that separated the Collegium from the Conclave. The Archmage's residence was a nexus between the two complexes; it was the apex of the hodgepodge of buildings that formed the Collegium, while at the same time it overlooked the single round tower of the Conclave. Its location was deliberate, speaking of the Archmage's position as the Chancellor of the school and the Presider of the Conclave.

Xandrian glanced over at the sparkling, white granite walls of the Conclave's tower. He'd never given much thought to this place, where the mages of the land met and governed themselves. Homis had been appointed a seat in its Great Hall, and seeing the building reminded Xandrian that he had inherited that seat and would now be required to attend the Conclave's quarterly Gatherings.

His lip curled in distaste; he wanted no parts of politics or governance. All he wanted was to be left alone to continue his studies, not to sit in a room with squabbling mages for days on end while they wrought policy for how magic was to be used in the land.

At least he wouldn't be required to attend before he achieved Master rank, for only Masters were permitted to sit at Gatherings.

The Archmage's bondsman greeted them and led them into the small keep that served as the Archmage's offices and home. Xandrian frowned as they followed Jerosh up a long, winding stairway.

"Why are we meeting her in her chambers, Jerosh, instead of her office?" he asked.

The elderly bondsman glanced back at him. "Visitors to the Office of the Archmage must be recorded, young Xan. My Lady does not wish for your names to appear on any public records. Bringing you to her chambers may be explained by a sudden, if eccentric, desire to see two young men she regards as part of her family. Also, she did not wish to get dressed." He sniffed disapprovingly.

Xandrian snorted.

Jerosh stopped in front of an ornately carved door and tapped on it. "The young men are here, my Lady, as you requested," he called.

"Wonderful! Send them in, dear, and thank you."

"I hope she's decent, at least," the servant muttered, and he opened the door and ushered them in.

"Did I wake you from your beauty sleep, Xandrian? You don't look at all well, darling." Kisannon Goanyen, Archmage of the Conclave and Chancellor of the Collegium, leaned back in her velvet chaise and examined her lacquered nails. A flimsy silken robe was casually tied, revealing more than a glimpse of creamy curves, and ringlets of silver-streaked ebony hair spilled across her shoulders. Even without her usual array of cosmetics she made a spectacular sight.

While Xandrian was unmoved by her beauty he appreciated the Archmage's calculated use of it; more than one enemy had underestimated the razor-sharp mind she hid behind artifice and a seemingly lazy attitude, and the woman had more power in her ring-laden pinky than half the Conclave combined. Xandrian was also considered beautiful - much to his disgust, but early on he had studied the Archmage's techniques, for he understood the worth of the ploy. "I'm surprised you're letting us see you without your makeup on, Kisannon," he remarked, unable to resist the dig.

She made a face at him. "It's wasted on you, so why bother? Come, sit, both of you."

As he sat down on the plush rug Xandrian had a moment of deja-vu that took him back to his childhood, when he and H'rit would sit at this powerful woman's feet and listen to stories of wizards and dragons - 'Yes, of course they were real, darlings,' she would assure them. She was an eccentric (albeit dangerous) foster-aunt to them both, and Xandrian was both immensely fond of, if even more immensely irritated by her.

"Did you locate that man, Kisannon?" H'rit asked as he sat next to Xandrian.

"Nikolon," Xandrian spat.

"Yes," the Archmage replied, answering them both. "After the attack I hired a mercenary to follow Nikolon and find out where he is setting up shop these days. He reported back to me late last night, and I have spent the last few hours getting everything in place."

"In place for what?" asked H'rit.

"Why, to send you boys after him, of course." Kisannon sat up straight in the chaise. "Don't you want the spellbooks that are rightfully yours?"

"Damn right I do," growled Xandrian. He glared at the Archmage. "I would have chased after that bastard as soon as I regained consciousness. But you told us to wait."

"Of course I did. You both had to heal from your injuries first, and by that time we had no idea where Nikolon had gone. He was always a secretive boy, and he's only gotten worse. Besides, it will work out better this way."

"Better?" Xandrian leapt to his feet. "It's been six fucking months - that murderous bastard could be on the other side of the continent!" His gut twisted at the thought of the other man handling his master's spellbooks, reading the spells and rituals that were intended for him to learn. The double loss had cut him deeply.

"Sit." There was steel in the sapphire blue gaze that met his. "I did not allow you to reprimand me then, and I will not allow it now."

Xandrian sat, and eyed her mutinously.

She leaned forward. "It is better this way because he thinks he got away with it. I sent a group of apprentices out after him, but specifically instructed them to give up and return home to the Collegium. Another thing, darlings, is that he assumed he killed both of you."

H'rit frowned. "How can you know that?"

"Because, my dear H'rit, you are alive. This man killed three mages - Kanera and Homis were not his only victims; the other mage was an Elementalist who lived outside the Collegium. In that instance he killed the students as well. Your masters were clever enough to make it look like you had been killed in his initial strike." She reached over and brushed golden-blond strands of hair from Xandrian's forehead, a silent apology for the horror he witnessed.

He knocked her hand away. "He killed another mage? You didn't tell us that."

"You didn't need to know then. I'm telling you now." Kisannon sat back against the cushions. "These three people all had one thing in common; they were all former masters who at some point refused to name Nikolon Jant as a Reader of their Yin books."

Now it was H'rit's turn to stand. "He was her student? Homis' too?"

Xandrian tugged his friend back down to sit on the plush rug and then looked over at Kisannon. "The Yin books, you said. So he was already named a Reader of their Yang books?"

"Clever boy," said the Archmage. "You are correct; Nikolon apprenticed under these three mages and completed his knots for the Yang portion of each Discipline. However, each of these masters decided - separately, I might add - that they did not wish to share their darker, Yin teachings with this student. You can imagine how that must have frustrated him, especially to be denied by Homis."

"Because they were lovers."

"Yes. Not an arrangement I necessarily agree with, but he is not the only student to share their master's bed as well as their books." She gave a sidelong glance in H'rit's direction. Two splashes of pink colored his cheeks, but H'rit met her gaze evenly.

Xandrian ignored his friend's embarrassment. "We were just beginning to be taught from the Yin books," he said.

"I know," she replied. "They are always the last spells to be taught, because a mage needs the experience gained from the Yang spells to understand and properly wield the Yin spells. Darkness is harder to contain, and requires more strength of will and mind. You both were named Readers of all your masters' books, but in addition to that you were also chosen as their heirs. Those are now your books, and any secrets that are locked in them will be open to you."

Fine blond eyebrows drew together. "Will he be able to read the Yin books? If you're not named a Reader all you see is blank paper."

The Archmage sighed heavily. "I don't know. In general, only a Reader can see what is written in a mage's spellbook, although an Archmage can see them as well. But Nikolon was not an ordinary student. He was - is - brilliant, my dears; I have never seen a student so gifted across so many Disciplines - and that includes you, Xan, clever as you are. Nikolon's brilliance gave him the cream of the Conclave as masters when it was time for him to begin his apprenticeships, but one after another declined to continue with him."

"Even Kanera refused him?" H'rit blinked. "She must have seen something in him that made her do so."

Kisannon nodded. "Yes, they all did, even as they had trouble telling me exactly why they did not wish to continue teaching that young man. Homis was the only one who could really verbalize it; 'He's broken, somehow,' he told me once, 'There is a wrongness in him, and I am afraid of what he may do with my teachings.'"

"And yet you did nothing." Xandrian stared at her.

"I did nothing," she agreed. "There was nothing to do - he had broken no rules, committed no crimes. I can't expel a student because my fellow mages no longer wish to teach him. Nikolon left after Homis refused him, declaring that there were plenty of mages outside the Collegium that would be willing to teach him."

Xandrian recalled the vague feeling of familiarity he had experienced while watching the rogue mage destroy his master's study. "Was he Homis' student when Homis found me?"

"Yes, and he wasn't pleased when Homis decided to raise you as his son. Do you remember him?"

"Yes," he replied. "When he attacked Homis I thought I recognized him, but didn't know from where. I remember that he didn't like me."

She laughed. "No, he didn't like you; you were his rival. Not like that -" she waved a hand when Xandrian sputtered in outrage,"- but you had Homis' love, and he did not."

Xandrian grit his teeth. "And now he has my master's books. My books," he amended.

"And my books as well," H'rit added. He glanced at the Archmage. "Kisannon, you said he probably thinks we're dead?"

"Yes," she answered, "and he also thinks we failed to pursue him. The apprentices came back without locating him, but Jomm - the mercenary I hired - continued on and followed him to his lair. He stayed long enough to confirm that Nikolon was indeed living there, and then he returned to give me his report."

"And he returned last night," said Xandrian.

"Yes. Now, here is what we are going to do; you two are going to return to your quarters and pack up everything you feel you will need for this journey. I've taken care of procuring your clothing, just worry about your notebooks and other personal items. You will be traveling on horseback, so keep things as light as you can. Jomm will act as your guide and tracker and will travel with you to Arrelia."

H'rit's eyes widened. "Arrelia? That's at least a month's journey!"

"Probably twice that," said Kisannon. "I want you to appear as regular travelers - pilgrims, specifically. I don't want it known that you are mages - you do not want to lose the advantage you have."

Xandrian huffed impatiently. "So we crawl our way to Arrelia, we get our books back and we kill the bastard. What are we waiting for?"

The Archmage gave him a long, steady look. "We need to understand each other now. You and H'rit are two of the most gifted students I have at the Collegium; you were both raised here, and are the heirs of brilliant mages. But your studies are incomplete - you are still journeymen."

"Nikolon's studies are incomplete, too!" Xandrian protested. "In fact, we very well may know more spells than he does."

She laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "Didn't you hear me earlier? Nikolon Jant is a genius, twisted bastard though he is. Right now he is way beyond you, little boy - you saw what he did to your master. Homis was truly a master mage; he had been appointed Archmage, only he didn't want the position."

Xandrian was shocked into silence. Homis, the Archmage? He knew his master had been powerful, but he couldn't imagine the gentle, silly man who had raised him being the Archmage.

"Didn't know that, did you? And Nikolon killed him. You are not messing with an ordinary mage. Now, you and H'rit may stand a chance together; I wasn't just being nice when I said you are gifted. I've watched you two over the years, and Xan, I can easily see you succeeding me - not that I plan on going anywhere anytime soon."

Another shock; achieving the status of Archmage was not something Xandrian had ever contemplated.

Kisannon cackled. "I love seeing you speechless, Xan." She poked him in the chest. "I'll say it again; we need to understand each other. This man is very dangerous, because he is obsessed and has no compunction about killing. But you and H'rit have is the advantage of surprise, and whatever Yin spells you have mastered. Let me see your belts," she demanded abruptly. "Take them off."

The two men glanced at each other, and then they complied. The Archmage fingered the knotted strands, and examined the intricate series of knots on each.

"This might work," she murmured. "You are further along than I thought. H'rit, I am pleased to see that you are so advanced in qi manipulation. And Xandrian... you have an interesting assortment of knots here. You've Summoned?"

Xandrian nodded.

"So I'm assuming you've bound some demons and made and completed some basic Agreements with at least a few others?" At Xandrian's second nod a wide smile broke out on her face. "Very good, my boy. I've just had a lovely idea."

Xandrian wasn't sure he liked that smile, or the 'lovely idea'.

She leaned forward, clutching the knotted belt, and continued, "I want you to summon as powerful a demon as you can, and bind it or get it to Agree to help you. I'm sure I don't need to tell you to be careful making an Agreement with a demon - but I'll tell you anyway. Be careful. Then, cast an illusion to make it appear in human form until you release it. Do you understand where I'm headed with this?"

"Yes." It was H'rit who answered. "The demon will appear as a normal human, which will give us an additional element of surprise. And power, once released."

"Full marks, darling," Kisannon beamed at him. "Your main Disciplines are not aggressive ones, and there are not a lot of offensive spell-knots on these belts." She double-checked a few more knots. "You do have a decent selection, but if Xandrian can successfully add a concealed demon to your arsenal I think you stand a very good chance at success."

Throughout this whole conversation something had been niggling at the back of Xandrian's brain. "There's more to this than us getting our rightful property back," he said. "You have been planning - no, counting - on our participation. Why are you sending us to do this, Kisannon?"

Kisannon's face lost all trace of merriment. "I do not want that man to have any access to the Yin spells of my very best Regenerist, Ephemerist and Elementalist. The yin of regeneration is destruction and rending; the yin of conjuring and summoning is voiding and banishing, and the yin of the elements is complete chaos. There are spells in those books that would let him wreak havoc - even tamper with the Abysm - and I will not allow that to happen." She shook her head. "He was not named a Reader, but as skilled as he is, there is a chance that Nikolon will figure out how to read those books, and I simply can't allow that chance. You, my darlings, are the only two people I trust to do this for me."

She tightened her clasp on the belts. "I will keep these; rank belts are only to be worn at the Collegium and it would be madness to allow outsiders to know your skills. Go, pack, and come back here after the morning meal - Jomm will be back with the horses and you will leave then. And Xan, stop being childish and let H'rit properly heal that leg."

They all rose, and Xandrian suffered the Archmage's perfumed embrace. While she was embracing H'rit he asked, "When do you want me to summon the demon?"

"Soon, but not here," she replied. "That level of sorcery gives off a distinctive energy, and I don't want your activity traced back here to the Collegium - as far as Nikolon knows my two high-level Ephemerists are dead. I gave Jomm directions to my ancestral home; the estate is along the Pilgrim's Road and will provide you with the privacy and space you will need. I have sent a messenger ahead, so you will be expected and well attended to."

Kisannon smoothed a fold on H'rit's tunic. "I'm very proud of both you boys - no... young men, for you are grown men now. May the gods watch over you both." She touched Xandrian's cheek. "Be careful, Xan."