. Rogan continued to see something beyond reason in the Earther. Mere high potential as a flux artist could not explain the things he had done. Although it was true that Jack would have made ideal material for training in any of the Elder Arts, even as a Seryahdin. But without any trainer or prior knowledge of flux, Jack’s case …

. “I take it you encountered the contingency we feared,” Tirith’s hunting partner noted as she took her seat in the flyer. “Bart,” Joanna responded with irritation, “speak in Bruxilan around non-English speakers.” Her clan was a strange collection of individuals. After the Fall, the last leaderless survivors on Chald had fallen back to the final stronghold of Nurinie, and …

. Tirith hustled her through the woods with deep concern etched into his ace. She had called to retreat, and with that word he became the leader, and would remain so until he believed his Dhan was out of danger. It was the way of their kind. The Dhan must face the enemy, but in danger, her subjects became her …

. After carefully scooping the uniforms and the surviving bits of human, which must have been too charred to interest animals, into their respective graves, Rogan quietly waited for Nam to finish her short service. He knew there was scant chance any of the three had been Christian, but once she finished, he crossed himself and prayed a wee prayer …

. The guardsman looked at him with a wry twist to his lip. Rogan did suppose that a begrimed and unshaven woodsman in worn leathers styling himself ‘Imperial Lord’ was amusing at that, but he was glad to see Jack take it in humor. In his experience, far too many Americans were overawed by pedigree, no doubt due to having …

. “‘My Lord?’” the guardsman quoted as soon as the scrying faded. The man’s query was both amused and uncertain. Rogan grimaced. He had to forgive Koursh’s careless use of the honorific; the man was the son of a court retainer. He’d been born and reared in close contact with royalty and peers in Orosjo, a feudal backwater on Cantaree. …

. By the time Rogan finished speaking, he had rejoined them, now standing next to Jack. Holding his palm outward at his arrangement, he muttered a rapid string of syllables. Jack felt a surge of power coming first from Rogan’s hand and then from the device. The scattered dust rose into a cloud about human height. A cone of light …

. “Gireid?” Jack asked. He might know too little about various worlds and people for other things to matter, but the ‘just like us’ comment would have to be important. “Our kind. Nam and I are Gireid,” Rogan stated. “The people of Chald were Gireid.” “It’s your nationality, then.” Rogan shook his head. “It’s not our nationality. It’s our species. …

. It appeared to be a house cat, huge and gray, crouching and staring at them from there. Mord came out of the woods and began barking, but Nam silenced her with a gesture. Her faithful canine specter gave the animal a wide berth as she ambled around it, aiming to join them. She could feel her hound’s thoughts focusing …

. Abrupt and shocking, the entire forest fell silent, underscoring what an awesome roar had been issuing from the guardsman’s hand only a moment before. The presences representing the three attackers had vanished. Not likely, Nam thought, but they had been pulling back before they faded, so she knew that it was a successful stealth form. She pushed her awareness …