Veralidaine Salmalin stood on the very edge of the port decking, leaning her elbows on the railing. "Look, Numair," she said eagerly, pointing. Her husband squinted against the sunlight to see the ships approaching on the horizon.

"Yes, there's a lot of them," he grunted.

"Oh, you old cynic," Daine sighed, rolling her eyes. She looked around. "Where's Sarra?"

"On the beach," Numair said, "with Suko and Iki."

"Ought they be down there?" Daine said, anxiously craning her neck to try and see her daughter. Suko? Is Sarralyn all right?

She is fine, came back the marmoset's thought. It is nice down here. The water moves up and down!

Don't go too deep, Daine warned him.

"Daine? You're frowning."

She looked up at Numair. "Oh – she's letting Suko swim," she said. "I know, I worry too much."

"Not all that nervewracking, is it?" said a jovial voice from behind them. It was the King's Champion, looking dangerous as usual despite being half a head smaller than Daine. "Are you worried Rikash'll come back all stiff and serious like Thom?"

"Have you no respect for your brother, Alan?" Numair asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Not much," Alan admitted, grinning playfully. He leaned on the railing next to Daine, his tunic bulging with muscle. "It's the price he has to pay for being the only one of us with any real Gift. A smile would probably crack his face in half. I wouldn't worry about your Rikash, though. If there's anything that boy knows, it's how to have fun."

"That's what worries me," Numair sighed.

"Be nice," Daine said sternly. "The last thing he'll need when he gets here is an interrogation, Numair. You just let him alone."

"Here comes the King," Alan said suddenly, standing up straight. He winced – he had inherited his Knight Master Raoul's dislike for formal precedent. "No stops left unpulled for the Empress."

Daine glanced at the procession gathering on the dock. The entire Royal party gathered in the centre while servants put the finishing touches on the welcoming strip – red carpets, flags flapping in the wind and long tables laid out with refreshments. More servants stood awaiting the piles of baggage that would no doubt be accompanying the arriving dignitaries. Alan hurried over to stand beside King Jonathan, who stood remarkably tall and straight for a man approaching seventy. A chair was eventually brought for him and Queen Thayet. A young girl left the party and came over to stand beside Numair and Daine.

"Morning," she said cheerfully. "How long have you two been waiting?"

"Not long, Princess," Daine smiled. "Ought you not stay with your parents?"

"Oh – Father said I could watch from here," Lianokami shrugged, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder. "He's more excited than I am, anyway."

"Not excited?" Daine asked. "Not to see your aunt and cousins?"

"I barely know them," the princess said, quite losing any trace of Yamani politeness from her voice. Daine had noticed that the girl was as adept at altering the way she behaved towards people of varying rank as any palace servant. "How long since you saw your son?"

"Four years," Daine replied, her voice laced with both sadness and excitement. "He'll be a man now." "With any luck," added Numair.

"Oh hush, Numair. He's your son. Don't pretend it isn't genetic."

"What's genetic mean?" the princess asked.

"That means something gets passed down from father to son, or mother to daughter – the way you have your mother's hair and your father's eyes," Daine replied. "Rikash... well, he used to be a bit... demonstrative."

Numair snorted. "That hasn't changed, from what I can gather from his Masters' letters."

"Master Passinet seems very nice," Daine protested. "And he said Rikash was one of his best students."

"He's a music teacher, Daine."

"So? I think music is more important in the Carthak University than it is here."

"It wasn't when I went there."

"That was thirty years ago, Numair."

Numair winced. "She always knows just where to bite," he said to the princess. "Like a horse."

Lianokami giggled. "I heard there's a whole delegation from the university."

"Masters and students," Numair told her. "Including your cousin Priya."

"Who apparently wasn't happy when told she might marry a Tortallan nobleman," said another voice from behind them. It was Alanna of Pirate's Swoop, former King's Champion. She wore a shin-length green dress over boots and leggings. "Good morning, Princess. Your mother is asking for you."

"Oh, rats," said Lianokami. "If only they would talk to each other instead of dragging me around all the time." She walked in a stately way back to the royal party.

"Every inch the Princess," Alanna noted, leaning next to Numair. Now over sixty years old, most of her years showed in her shoulders and around her eyes. "Apparently Kalasin's daughter is somewhat wild." "Well, she is half Carthaki," Numair pointed out. "Even if Emperor Kaddar is almost normal, the madness might have skipped a generation."

~*0*~

Kash stood near the prow of the ship, watching the Tortallan coast become gradually clearer. He had been fourteen when he had left. Fourteen, awkward, and at odds with everyone. His friends had started to avoid him, his teachers didn't know what do to with him, and his own parents had been at a loss as to how to speak to him. The only person who had ever understood him was his sister, Sarralyn. He was looking forward to seeing her again. Everyone else... well, he would have to see. He understood the choice his father had made in sending him to the mage's university in Carthak, two years younger than most students would start, but he wasn't sure if he could forgive it.

"Why so glum ?" said Ajit, nudging him. "Aren't you pleased to be home?"

"I suppose so," Kash sighed. He looked over at the Emperor's ship, the biggest of the fleet. "Reckon we can get away from this lot once we get to land? I don't fancy sitting through all the speeches."

"Not if Master Ypit has anything to do with it," Ajit pointed out. He and Kash had been friends for four years now. They made an odd pair – both were dark haired, but Ajit seemed to fade into the background with his chocolate brown skin and soft, cheerful face. Kash, on the other hand, was all sharp edges and piercing blue-green eyes. He tended to stick out in any crowd, and the fact that he was usually taller than everyone else didn't help either. "He'll want us to stick together. Anyway, everyone'll notice if you're not there. Maybe you could ask to be excused, to go with your parents?"

Kash winced. "Maybe I'd rather the speeches."

Ajit blew a curl out of his eyes, the rough sea breeze ruffling his usually neatly-arranged hair. "It can't be that bad. I bet they'll be pleased to see you."

"My father won't be," Kash assured him. "He thinks I'm dangerous."

"Well, you are."

"Thanks. But I mean it, Ajit. No workings, no big projects while we're here. I'm keeping my head down."

"Master Passinet won't like it. He wants to show you off in Prac."

"Too bad. I just want to meet, greet and go home, get my Mastery, and then..."

"Then?" Ajit prompted.

"I don't know. But once I'm a Master it won't matter."

"You are someway from that position yet, young Salmalin," said a disapproving voice.

"Yes, Master Ypit," Kash said, bowing his head to the small balding man in the red robe who suddenly stood near them. "I was only ruminating."

"Go and do it somewhere else, then. We will be ashore in minutes – the two of you, go below and get everyone up here. Full dress robes, all of you."

"Yes, Master Ypit," they chorused.

As they went down the stairs, Kash took a deep breath, and shoved his magic down as far as it would go. There wasn't any turning back now.