Mikranasta sat beside the low-table, across from Davorultumn. Both had their heads raised and eyes staring into the starry sky. Mikranasta had not moved in what seemed like hours. Her eyes rarely even blinked. Jorvanultumn had always been impressed by her ability to meditate for such lengthy periods of time. However, right now, he wished she would stop. There were things to be done. Every moment wasted was another moment for Meleng’s captors to harm or even kill him.

He stared at Mikranasta. She remained unmoving, so he returned to pacing around the room, circling the low-table. When he passed Davorultumn for the second time, his diare reached out to him, and he stopped.

“You should meditate, too,” Davorultumn said. “You are too emotional right now. You’d think I’d raised a conjuror.”

“Diare, my friend—”

“I know. All the more reason for you to be calm. You are no good to him in your current state.”

Jorvanultumn sighed. “Yes, of course, you’re right, Diare.”

Davorultumn motioned to the stool beside him, and Jorvanultumn sat on it. He had already tried meditating, after he’d talked to Mikranasta to request her aid. Not surprisingly, she had already known about the Pundritta, though she was sceptical of their involvement in Meleng’s abduction. Still, she agreed that at least one Isyar was involved.

Hilkorultumn had been furious to learn that Davorultumn had told Mikranasta about the Pundritta years ago. While he agreed the knowledge had to go public eventually, Davorultumn had acted far too soon. Hilkorultumn had stormed out, telling Jorvanultumn to come see him about his diare’s records.

And then the meditating had started. Jorvanultumn had not lasted long, and Davorultumn had stopped and restarted several times.

Jorvanultumn looked up at the sky again, though he did not expect it to go any better than last time. Thinking about things rationally, what he really needed was sleep. He had been up all night. Dawn was only about five hours away. But sleep was another thing that was not going to happen right now. He had a better chance with meditation.

He silently recited a prayer to Cosmos, asking for strength of mind and purpose. Then one to Power, asking for the power to defeat whoever had taken Meleng. Finally, he asked Nature to keep Meleng safe and uninjured.

He breathed slowly, relishing in the cold night air, expelling his nerves, anger, fear little by little. His tense muscles loosened—just a little at first, then more, One by one, they relaxed. He continued to breathe slowly.

Took you long enough.

It had been a long time since he had heard Mikranasta’s voice in his head. He had always found mental communication more personal and intimate than speech.

That’s because it is more intimate, Mikranasta said. Our minds are touching. Figuratively speaking, of course.

He had also forgotten how easy it was to accidentally broadcast top-level thoughts.

You would have been a terrible mentalist, Jorvanultumn.

So you’ve told me many times. Though I’m sure if you had been my teacher, you would have found a way to make me excel.

You flatter me.

Always.

He felt her blush. It was always a weird sensation to sense a feeling that was not his own. It was not something Mikranasta did very often, but ever since he was a very small child, she had occasionally shared a feeling or two with him. As a child, he had enjoyed it. As an adult, he was unsure what to make of it. It did, however, give him an idea of what Felitïa must deal with all the time as she sensed feelings unwittingly sent to her.

You see? Everything I do has a purpose in the end.

Jorvanultumn chuckled. You did not know that would help with Felitïa when I was a child.

So sure? Very well then. Maybe you’re right.

This making me wait was all to get me to relax, wasn’t it?

Partially.

You could have just told me.

Sometimes, you have to realise things on your own.

And the rest of the reason? You said it was only partially the reason.

We needed to wait for the Governance Building to open. She jumped to her feet. “Come! If we leave now, the Governance Building should be open by the time we get there.”

Jorvanultumn stood up and rubbed his eyes. He was feeling just a little groggy.

Mikranasta and Davorultumn touched foreheads and wing tips. “I strongly doubt either Nascanmat or Paydamat had any involvement in this,” Mikranasta said. “However, she may take offence at the questioning. I will do my best not to challenge her or goad her into challenging me, but if the worst should happen and she kills me, know that I love you dearly. Watch over Hedromornasta. The boy needs a strong hand.”

Davorultumn chuckled. “You won’t fight her. You don’t want anyone to know you can beat her.”

Mikranasta smiled. “Of course not, but it’s always good to prepare for the worst.” She kissed him. “Jorvanultumn, let’s go.” She spread her wings and waited for Jorvanultumn to do the same.

Jorvanultumn shook his head. “I have an injured wing, remember?”

Mikranasta folded her wings. “Oh yes, I was forgetting. If we find your friend’s kidnappers, they will almost certainly use that against you.”

“If I need to fly to save Meleng, I will. But I need to make certain I am able to do so when the time comes. I can’t risk straining my wing before then.”

“You are right, of course,” Mikranasta said. “Well, at least we don’t need to worry about getting there before it opens.” She strode on foot to the door, and Jorvanultumn followed.

* * * * *

Paydamat’s office was small. A low-table sat in the centre of the room, and a smaller, rectangular high-table sat at the far side. There was a second door in the room, which Jorvanultumn suspected opened to the audience chamber at the level of the Lamdritta’s perches, presumably close to Paydamat’s.

Getting in to see Paydamat had been easier than Jorvanultumn had expected. Mikranasta merely requested to see her, and they were shown directly here. Jorvanultumn was not sure if it was because Mikranasta made the request, or if Paydamat had simply expected them.

The Lamdir stood behind the high-table. She eyed them while the Hgirh who had shown them here placed a hand on his chest and backed out of the room. Then she came around both the high- and low-tables up to Mikranasta. The two clasped left hands. “Mikranasta.”

“Lamdir Paydamat.”

Paydamat eyed Jorvanultumn, but did not greet him similarly.

“You know why we are here, I suppose,” Mikranasta said.

“I can guess. I am told my siare was seen outside your home shortly before Meleng Drago’s disappearance.”

“We were hoping we could talk to Nascanmat.”

Paydamat turned around and walked back to the high-table. “You are not accusing my siare of anything, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“But he might have seen something,” Jorvanultumn said. “He could provide us with vital information.”

“There are already people assigned to investigate this, Jorvanultumn, and none of them are either of you.”

“The more investigators, the better,” Mikranasta said. “Especially as this situation could be time sensitive. We—”

Paydamat held up her hand. “Too many investigators can get in each other’s way. Jorvanultumn, you are still waiting on judgement regarding your elispt. Should you really be getting in more trouble?”

“Meleng Drago is my friend.”

“I know. All the more reason you should stay out of it. You are too close to the situation.” She looked back to Mikranasta. “And you. You should know better than to encourage him in this.”

Mikranasta raised her eyebrows. “Your investigators, Lamdir, are too focused on finding a human culprit.”

Paydamat chuckled. “Ah yes, I’ve heard the suggestions that an Isyar did this.” Her eyes narrowed and she scowled. “I will not allow such dangerous accusations to spread. Do you have any idea of the chaos it will cause?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Mikranasta said. “But denying the truth will only make things worse in the end. There are no humans in Chithishtheny capable of this and you know it.”

“Do not presume what I do and do not know,” Paydamat hissed.

“We only wish to speak briefly to Nascanmat,” Jorvanultumn said. “Surely it cannot harm. We do not believe he is part of it.”

Paydamat sighed. “There is no need. I have already spoken to him, and he assures me he was not there. Hedromornasta must have been mistaken.”

“Hedromornasta spoke directly with Nascanmat,” Mikranasta said. “That is not something someone is mistaken about.”

“Are you suggesting my siare is lying?”

“Are you suggesting mine is?” Mikranasta responded.

The two of them stared at each other for several moments. Neither of them made any movement other than an occasional blink—at least as far as Jorvanultumn could tell. He could not help feel that the two of them were casting multiple spells. They were two of the most powerful mentalists there were, capable of casting spells with only the tiniest, almost invisible movements.

Finally, Paydamat turned aside. “I suggest another possibility.”

“Go on,” Mikranasta said.

“Neither is lying. Hedromornasta clearly saw someone. We also know that a mentalist is responsible for the crime. A competent mentalist could have fooled Hedromornasta into believing he had seen my siare.”

“You believe Hedromornasta would be taken in by such a deception?”

Paydamat shrugged. “He is young and has not yet reached his elispt. It is no shame on him or you. Both you and I could do it, as could numerous other mentalists both you and I could name.”

Mikranasta sighed and nodded. “You are right, of course. Hedromornasta is young and still has a lot to learn. I will examine him to see if he has been under any mental manipulation. Apologies for bothering you, Lamdir.” She placed her hand on her chest. “Pleasant thoughts.”

Paydamat repeated the gesture. “Pleasant thoughts to you.”

Mikranasta turned for the door. “Jorvanultumn, let us go.”

Jorvanultumn placed his hand on his chest. “May the night be short.”

Paydamat merely nodded in response. “One last thing, Mikranasta.”

Mikranasta paused at the door, not looking back.

“Do not spread your suspicions about Isyar without absolute proof. I will not let chaos overtake this town.”

Mikranasta bowed her head. “As you wish, Lamdir.” She pushed open the door and walked out. Jorvanultumn followed.

They walked in silence down the circular hall, Mikranasta’s wings twitching the entire time. Jorvanultumn had never seen her display worry so openly. As the hall opened over the main entrance area, she spread her wings a little. “Meet me outside. We have much to discuss, but I need to think first.” She spread her wings all the way and leapt off the edge before Jorvanultumn could say anything.

He made his way towards the long staircase down to the entrance. It was so tempting to fly. It would be faster, and he wanted to rush forward, do everything that was necessary to find Meleng as fast as possible. But as he had told Mikranasta earlier, he did not dare risk stressing his injured wing before it was absolutely needed. So he resisted the urge for Meleng’s sake.

At the top of the stairs, there was a small nook just to the side, at the edge of the offices that lined the building’s outer wall on this level. An Isyar stood in that nook and he bent the tips of his wings to his lips as Jorvanultumn saw him.

Nascanmat was about the same height as Jorvanultumn, which made him several inches shorter than his diare. Apart from that, he shared a lot of physical characteristics with Paydamat, including her shallow eyes and thin nose. “I noticed when you came in you used the stairs,” he said quietly, “so I guessed you might do so again going out.”

Jorvanultumn looked about to make certain no one was watching, but there was no one in the hall, and no one below appeared to be looking up. Even if they were, they were too far away to notice who was talking to whom. “Your diare does not want me to talk to you. She denied our request.”

Nascanmat nodded. “I know. I wanted to speak to you anyway. I have heard it said I was at your home at the time of your friend’s disappearance. I was not.”

“Your diare suggested someone used mentalism magic to make Hedromornasta believe he saw you. Perhaps to hide the appearance of the actual person there.”

“Yes, that is my thought as well,” Nascanmat said.

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Jorvanultumn said. “I am inclined to believe that is the correct explanation.”

Nascanmat nodded again, but glanced away furtively. “But it does not answer another question.”

“What question?”

Nascanmat looked at him with earnest eyes. “Why me? My diare says I should not worry about it, that it does not matter why me. It only matters that it was not me. But I know her. She is worried. She cannot hide that from me. And it worries me too. Why me?”

It was a good question. Part of the answer was obvious: to divert attention from the real culprit and to frame Nascanmat. But why specifically him? Jorvanultumn groaned.

“You have realised, yes?” There was a hint of tears in Nascanmat’s eyes.

“Someone is trying to discredit your diare.”

“She is a powerful person with many enemies.”

Jorvanultumn nodded. “It makes sense.”

“I know she has been harsh with you and your friends, but she is a good person. Believe me. She respects you a great deal. She has confessed this to me privately. She admires your willingness to break tradition to help your friends, and she understands the difficulties your are under with the human girl. But she has Chithishtheny to think about. She is the only member of the Lamdritta who truly cares about the state of this town. The other three care more for their own power and prestige than the town. No offence, as I know you and Chiansamorkin are close, but even she is like that, perhaps less so than the other two, but she would not have challenged for the position so young otherwise.”

“She succeeded,” Jorvanultumn said.

“Just because you can does not mean you should.”

Jorvanultumn nodded. “Perhaps. I promise you, Nascanmat, I do not believe either you or your diare were responsible for taking Meleng Drago, and that will be borne out when the real culprits are revealed, but thank you for talking to me. I will not tell your diare.” He placed his hand to his chest. “May the night be short.”

Nascanmat returned the gesture. “Thank you. May the night be short.”

Jorvanultumn headed down the stairs.

He found Mikranasta in the gardens, wandering between the szadan and szadene. “You took your time.”

“I bumped into Nascanmat. He wanted to talk.”

Mikranasta gave only the slightest raise of her eyebrows to indicate any surprise. “He defied his diare. I’m not sure whether to applaud him or be worried.”

“He’s worried, and he says Paydamat is too. If someone is trying to frame him, they are probably doing it to discredit her.”

Mikranasta shrugged. “It makes a certain sense, I suppose.”

“You don’t believe it?”

“It’s not the only explanation, Jorvanultumn. Perhaps they simply wish us to believe they are being framed.”

“I didn’t get that impression. Did you learn something from her? You said you needed time to think first, as though something had disturbed you.”

She gave him a thin smile and plucked a szadan needle. “Come, let’s go meditate.”

“Again?”

She frowned at him, but said nothing. Instead, she stuck the needle in her mouth and sucked on it as they walked across the gardens to the mountain path. They made their way up the mountain to the nearest meditation cliff. Mikranasta was breathing heavily by the time they got there.

There were two other Isyar already meditating there. Mikranasta edged past them, careful not to disturb them, then spread her wings just enough to allow her to sit and cross her legs. Then she looked up into the starry sky. Jorvanultumn edged past her and did the same. There was just a hint of dawn’s light over the southeastern mountains.

That is a terrible walk to make, Mikranasta said. Your wing injury is very inconvenient.

I didn’t injure it on purpose. So we’re not really going to meditate then?

A bit of amusement from Mikranasta dripped into him. I don’t want others to overhear our conversation. There could be delicate things said, and your reputation at the moment is not good.

So you did learn something from Paydamat.

Not exactly. She had very powerful defences in place, and she was attempting to probe my defences too. It was all I could do to get even the barest hint of anything from her, and that was worry about being discovered.

Jorvanultumn almost looked down at her, but kept his eyes on the sky. Wait, are you saying she kidnapped Meleng?

No. She is hiding something, but there is nothing to indicate it’s that. It could be any number of things. It does not actually eliminate her from suspicion though.

What would she gain from kidnapping Meleng?

What would anyone gain? If she is Pundritta, there could be many reasons.

If she is Pundritta, then they have infiltrated government positions.

Do you really think that’s something they wouldn’t want?

Jorvanultumn almost reflexively shook his head. No, I’m sure that’s exactly what they’d want. I just don’t get the impression Paydamat and Nascanmat are guilty.

They are mentalists, Jorvanultumn. They can give you incorrect impressions if they want.

So you’re saying you think they have something to do with Meleng’s disappearance?

Mikranasta somehow made her telepathic sigh very loud. No, but I am saying that you are dismissing the possibility based on nothing more than feeling. We need proof for whoever is responsible, whether they are or not.

What do you propose we do?

You need to look at Hilkorultumn’s diare’s records. There may be something in there we can use. And coordinate with Davorultumn and Hilkorultumn. If the Pundritta are on the move, they may be easier to spot. Those signs might be useful.

What are you going to do?

Meditate a little, then watch and see what I can see. Go. You have a long walk. Perhaps take Sinitïa Alessia Deanna Folith with you. Show her the symbols. She has a good eye and it might help her feel useful.

I’ll check with Chiansamorkin and see how she’s doing. Pleasant thoughts, Mikranasta.

Pleasant thoughts, my dear child.

Jorvanultumn stood up and carefully made his way past the other meditating Isyar again. Hilkorultumn’s abode was near the bottom of the mountain, and the visitors’ lodges were even farther, so Mikranasta was not exaggerating when she had said he had a long walk. Flying would be so much quicker, but he was getting better at avoiding that temptation. Walking it would be.

* * * * *

Sinitïa stomped her foot down as Jorvanultumn entered her room. He took an involuntary step backwards and Sinitïa giggled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It is all right,” Jorvanultumn said. “What are you doing?”

She was wearing very little, only a thin shift and she was barefoot. She was smiling despite her make-up being smudged with tears. “Chian’s teaching me magic!”

“Chian?” Jorvanultumn looked over at Chiansamorkin, who was leaning against the wall at the far side of the room by the window. She gave Jorvanultumn a little wave.

“She said it was okay to call her that,” Sinitïa said.

Chiansamorkin gave a slight smile. “As long as it’s in private for now. I’m going to have to get used to it in human lands, right?”

Jorvanultumn nodded. “I suppose so. You are teaching her magic already?”

Chiansamorkin shrugged. “She needed a distraction. It’s not really magic yet. She needs to learn how to move her body first. So we’re just doing some basic forms. Speaking of which, that wasn’t bad, Sinitïa, but you are still too loose. Remember the tension when you created the stone. You still have the stone, don’t you?”

Sinitïa nodded.

“Collect it.”

Sinitïa ran to the table, collected the stone from it, and rushed back to the middle of the room.

Chiansamorkin came up beside Sinitïa and made a fist. “Clutch it in your fist like this. Now transfer that tension to your leg. Follow my movement.”

Sinitïa nodded again and made a fist. Chiansamorkin raised her leg, and Sinitïa copied. Chiansamorkin slammed her foot down hard enough that Jorvanultumn thought he could almost feel it reverberate through the floor. Sinitïa brought hers down as well, stumbling as she did so.

Sinitïa grimaced. “That wasn’t very good, was it?”

Chiansamorkin shrugged. “You’ll get it eventually.” She walked to Jorvanultumn and leaned her forehead against his, touched her wing tips to his. “I’m glad you’re here. Have you learned anything?”

“Mikranasta and I went to see Paydamat to ask about Nascanmat’s presence last night. We wanted to talk to Nascanmat, but she would not allow it. She denied he was there and suggested someone else faked his presence.”

“It makes sense,” Chiansamorkin said.

“Mikranasta did not like that it meant someone had fooled Hedromornasta.”

Chiansamorkin chuckled. “I bet.”

“But she acknowledged that he is young and inexperienced.”

“Do you believe her?” Chiansamorkin said. “Paydamat, I mean.”

“I don’t,” Sinitïa said before Jorvanultumn could answer. She sat on the corner of the mattress and crossed her arms over her lap. “She’s mean.”

“That doesn’t mean she’d kidnap Meleng,” Chiansamorkin said.

“She threatened him. Maybe she thought he wasn’t doing a good enough job getting me trained.”

Chiansamorkin shook her head. “Sinitïa, it’s only been a couple of days. Paydamat knows that’s too short a time to train anyone.”

“I don’t trust her.”

Jorvanultumn sat beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We will find Meleng, Sinitïa. I promise you. But I do not believe Paydamat is responsible.”

She frowned. “How do you know?”

“I do not for sure, but I also spoke to Nascanmat without her knowing. I believed him when he told me he was not there.”

“He might be lying.”

Jorvanultumn nodded. “He might, and we will not ignore the possibility. But we need proof, no matter who is responsible.”

“Fine, but how do we get it?”

Chiansamorkin knelt in front of them. “We can go with what we were talking about earlier.”

“What were you talking about?” Jorvanultumn asked.

Sinitïa’s eyes widened and she smiled broadly. “I’m going to paint!”

Jorvanultumn stared at her as she began to bounce about a little. “I do not understand.”

“Chian says she can do a thing...like...like yesterday.”

“I could set up a heating device in the gardens outside the Governance Building. It will keep her and her paint supplies warm enough for her to paint. I’ll need Fevionawishtensen’s help again though.”

Sinitïa’s bouncing became more pronounced. “Isn’t it amazing?”

Jorvanultumn nodded slowly. “Yes, but how will that help find Meleng?”

“I can watch while I paint!”

“Watch what?”

“Chian said for suspicious things.” She beamed.

“I thought it would make her feel useful,” Chiansamorkin said in Isyarian. “It’s not like there’s anything else she can do, and she wants to do something.”

Sinitïa’s smile drooped a little and her eyes narrowed as she looked to Chiansamorkin. “What are you saying? Why don’t you want me to know what you’re saying?”

Chiansamorkin smiled at her. “It’s not that. It’s just easier for me to explain to Jorvanultumn in my own language.”

Jorvanultumn placed a hand on Sinitïa’s shoulder. “It is okay, Sinitïa. It is a good plan. I may even have some things for you to look for.”

Her smile broadened again. “You do?”

“You do?” Chiansamorkin echoed, her own eyes widening.

He nodded. “When were you planning to do this?”

Sinitïa frowned. “Chian said tomorrow because there’s not enough light left today. Stupid Isyarian sun. It’s so long to wait. What if Meleng is hurt?”

“We will do other things until then. I need to go to Hilkorultumn’s and look at some things there. Would you like to come with me?”

“What things?” Sinitïa asked.

“Yeah, what things?” Chiansamorkin said.

“I will explain on the way. First, I would like to talk to Chiansamorkin for a moment.”

Sinitïa had a confused expression, but she nodded.

He stood up and motioned Chiansamorkin to the side.

“What’s going on?” Although she spoke in Isyarian, Chiansamorkin kept her voice low, and she glanced over at Sinitïa. “What things do you have for her to look for?”

“I’m not entirely sure yet. That’s part of why I need to go to Hilkorultumn’s to find out.”

She glared at him. “You’re planning to explain this to me, yes?”

He nodded. “Yes, but I need you to find Fevionawishtensen first. Then, come with her to meet me at Hilkorultumn’s.”

“But she’s still with the search parties. Do you really want to take her away from that?”

He shook his head. “No, but this may provide us with additional leads.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know, and I’ll explain as soon as you and Fevionawishtensen get there. I need to tell you both.”

She sighed. “You better.” She turned back towards Sinitïa. “I need to go find Fevionawishtensen, Sinitïa, but I’ll meet you and Jorvanultumn later.”

Sinitïa stood up. “Okay.”

“Before you go,” Jorvanultumn said, “I meant to ask, did Reszidbovroh come by?”

Sinitïa nodded and scowled. “He asked a lot of stupid questions.”

“They weren’t stupid, Sinitïa,” Chiansamorkin said.

“He asked if I thought Meleng ran away on his own to cause...what did he call it?”

“Mischief,” Chiansamorkin said. “Okay, that was a stupid question, but he was just trying to be thorough. At any rate, he thinks he got enough from her to keep others from wanting to question her, and so far, no one else has come.”

“Good,” Jorvanultumn said. “Sinitïa, we should get going.”

Chiansamorkin and Sinitïa hugged. Then Chiansamorkin came over to Jorvanultumn and they touched foreheads and wing tips.

“See you soon,” Jorvanultumn said.

She looked at him with narrow eyes. “Yes you will and then…”

“I’ll explain, yes.”

She smiled and kissed him. “Just so we’re understood.” With a wave to Sinitïa, she headed out the door.

* * * * *

It had been several years since Jorvanultumn had been in Hilkorultumn’s home. It was as bare as he remembered. Hilkorultumn and his fomase had never been ones for clutter. The gathering room had a low-table with a rather withered hpakrik growing—or dying—in it. There were a couple of stools, a flame-globe for light, and that was it—not even storage drawers under the low-table. There were also no decorations, though that was not uncommon. After travelling in Arnor for the last couple years, Jorvanultumn had gotten used to the human propensity to decorate everything.

Sinitïa sat on one of the stools. “So, these Darkers took Meleng?” Her voice was muffled by her numerous scarves.

“They are called Pundritta,” Jorvanultumn said. “And I do not know for sure they took Meleng, but it is a possibility.”

A succession of ice crates floated into the room. Hilkorultumn followed them, guiding the air currents carrying the crates with fluid movements of his arms. Three of the crates settled on the low-table. With no space remaining on the table, the remaining two settled on the floor beside it.

Hilkorultumn walked up to the low-table and tapped the top of one of the crates. “You’ll find everything you need in these crates. The three on the table and that one there contain my diare’s notes on each of the four currently practised disciplines, one crate for each discipline. Naturally, Davorultumn and I have updated them with what little additional information we’ve accrued over the years. The remaining crate contains what she had on the other six disciplines. You can probably ignore that one for now, but I said I’d bring you everything.”

Jorvanultumn walked over to the low-table. Each of the crates had the symbol of its associated disciplined carved into its lid (six symbols on the fifth crate).

Sinitïa leaned forward and peered at the crates as well. “What did he say?”

“Just that the crates are separated by discipline,” Jorvanultumn said in Arnorgue.

Sinitïa sat back. “That doesn’t help much.”

“I’m still not happy you’re letting her in on this,” Hilkorultumn said, still in Isyarian. “Just because Davorultumn told Mikranasta…”

Jorvanultumn reached for the mentalism crate. “I will make my own judgements on who to tell. Besides, if you’re right that the Pundritta is becoming active, you know everyone will soon have to know.” He switched to Arnorgue as he lifted the lid off the crate. “We will start with mentalism.”

Sinitïa jumped to her feet, leaned forward, and peered into the crate at the stack of folders there. She reached in and fumbled for the top folder. “How am I supposed to help if I can’t take off my mittens? It’s too cold. Besides, I’m not very good at reading, and I don’t know your language.”

Jorvanultumn gently took hold of her arm and pulled her hand out of the crate. “I will do the reading. There are images I need you to look at.” He pulled out the first several folders and placed them on the table beside the crate. Then he took the first one and sat on the nearest stool.

“Ooh, what’s this?” Sinitïa reached into the crate and fumbled around, apparently trying to reach through the space between the folders and the side of the crate. After a few moments, she pulled something out and held it up. “It’s like those decawhatsits of yours!”

“A decahedron,” Jorvanultumn said. Though this one was larger than his element decahedra.

“Yeah, that! But this doesn’t have fire or water in it. It’s got a tiny Isyar doll and snow and trees and stuff.”

“It is a…” Hilkorultumn said in Arnorgue. “What is word? Toy. It is a toy.”

Sinitïa giggled as she tipped the decahedron from side to side.

Hilkorultumn switched back to Isyarian. “I used to play with it while my diare worked. I forgot it was in there.”

Jorvanultumn smiled, but said nothing.

“I’ll leave you be,” Hilkorultumn said. “If you need me, just yell.” He left the room.

While Sinitïa played with the decahedron, Jorvanultumn began looking through the folders. The first was a catalogue of all the other folders in the mentalism crate. It would be useful. From it, he could see that the majority of other folders were each on specific identified members of the Pundritta. Since they were all past, long-dead members, he could safely ignore those folders for now. They weren’t likely to contain much immediately useful. The second folder, however, was more interesting. According to the catalogue, it contained general details about the mentalism branch of the Pundritta. He reached for the second folder.

Sinitïa giggled. “This is so fun! If you tip it this way, the little Isyar runs that way.” She tipped the decahedron as she spoke. “But if you tip it this way, it runs the opposite way. How does it do that?”

“Magic.” It was a vague, if accurate answer, but it seemed to satisfy her.

She flipped the decahedron over and giggled again. “Now he’s upside down and waving his arms around.”

Jorvanultumn motioned for her to come closer, and she sat beside him. He leaned in close and pointed at the centre of the decahedron. “The purpose is to get the figure to the centre there.”

Sinitïa squinted at it. “But how? He only runs along the outside. Even when I turn it upside down like this, he doesn’t fall. He just acts silly.”

“You have to make it fly.”

“How?”

“That is what you have to figure out.”

She frowned. “I just like making him run around. It’s funny.” She tipped the decahedron forward and giggled again.

Jorvanultumn shook his head, but smiled. He opened the folder. On the very first page were the ten signs that were meant to identify a mentalism practitioner of the Pundritta. “You can play with the toy later. I need you to look at some things with me.”

Sinitïa leaned over and peered at the page. “I told you I can’t read that. You said there were pictures and stuff.”

“There will be, but I will translate these for you. They are things you should look for when you do your painting tomorrow, or any other time as well.”

Sinitïa placed the decahedron on the low-table and sat up straight. “Tell me.”

“Okay, now remember, a member of the Pundritta—”

“Darkers, right?”

“Yes, Darkers. These are signs that mentalism Darkers might show, but they probably will not show all of them. Also, just because someone shows one or more of the signs does not mean that person is a Darker. Do you understand?”

Sinitïa curled her lip. “Sort of?”

Jorvanultumn shrugged. He could not really expect more than that. He was not any more sure of it than that himself. “Very well. The first sign is that the individual is overly personal and does not respect personal boundaries.”

Sinitïa curled her lip more. “I’m not sure I understand that. What does overly personal mean?”

“It is like if I tried to hug you and you did not want me to, but I did it anyway.”

Sinitïa’s eyes brightened. “Oh! Like when Paydamat took control of Meleng!”

“Yes.”

“So Paydamat’s a Darker?”

Jorvanultumn groaned. “No, not necessarily. She might but she might not.”

Sinitïa slumped and frowned. “I’m confused.”

“Yes, I will admit these signs are vague and not very helpful.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“If someone shows a lot of the signs, say, four or more of them, that will make them a suspect.”

“Oh, okay. What’s the next one?”

Jorvanultumn double-checked the folder. “An easy one. The individual does not respect tradition.”

“Easy for you, maybe,” Sinitïa said. “I don’t know your traditions, except the stupid ones like with Itra, and not liking those ones would make me think you’re good, not a Darker.”

“That is fair,” Jorvanultumn said. “Let us look at the other ones. The next one is the individual has a temper.”

“Like Paydamat! That’s two!”

Jorvanultumn nodded. “Yes, that is two. Next, the individual keeps many secrets.”

“How would we know?”

Jorvanultumn shrugged. “I do not know.”

“Go to the next one then.”

“The individual is quiet, introverted, and unassuming.”

Sinitïa sighed. “I know what quiet is, but what is intro...intro-what?”

“Introverted. I think that is the translation. It is someone who likes to be alone, and does not talk to other people very much.”

“Oh. That doesn’t sound like Paydamat.”

“You should not fixate on Paydamat so much.”

“Next!”

“The individual meditates excessively.”

“Huh?”

“Meditates too much.”

“Still huh? What’s too much? I saw Felitïa meditating on the ship to and from Scovese and it looked really boring, so anything would be too much in my opinion.”

Jorvanultumn sighed. She was right. There was no information included to determine what constituted “excessive”. He was beginning to wonder if there was any point to these signs. There were only a couple more left, but he decided to jump to the very last one: the symbol used by mentalism practitioners of the Pundritta.

“Let us look at the symbol,” he told Sinitïa. “All members of the Pundritta must have a symbol on them somewhere. It must be visible and cannot be hidden, but does not have to be obvious. It can be included as part of another bigger design, for example, or it can be very small and hard to notice.”

Sinitïa perked up. “I’m good at pictures and designs and stuff. I bet I can find them even if they’re teeny tiny.”

“The design can be on the individual’s skin or clothes or anything carried by that individual.” Jorvanultumn flipped the page over to where there was an illustration of the mentalism symbol. “Study it carefully and memorise it.”

“Okay, done.”

“Already?”

Sinitïa stared at him for a moment. “It’s a very simple design, Jorvan.”

Jorvanultumn looked down at the design. She was right. It was very simple: three wavy lines on top of each other with a solid dot in the centre of the middle line. “Yes, sorry. I had not looked and expected something more complicated.”

“Simple designs are easier to include in bigger designs. Plus, people are more likely to ignore a simple design than a complicated one.” She beamed.

“Good point,” Jorvanultumn said.

“Very good point, Sinitïa.”

Sinitïa’s eyes widened and she grinned. “Chian!” She jumped to her feet and ran over to Chiansamorkin who was standing in the doorway. She threw her arms wide as if to hug, but at a look from Chiansamorkin, she lowered them again and approached more calmly. They touched foreheads.

“You’re learning,” Chiansamorkin said with a smile.

Jorvanultumn stood up and approached. “She has a good teacher, I think.” He touched foreheads and wing tips with her.

Chiansamorkin grinned. “And to think, I’ve barely started. So what’s this about simple and complicated designs? Designs for what?”

“Darkers!” Sinitïa said.

“Darkers?”

“Darkness Worshippers,” Jorvanultumn said. “Where is Fevionawishtensen?”

“She wouldn’t come. She won’t leave the search, but says she’ll see you later. So, fill me in?”

This was awkward. He really did not want to tell Chiansamorkin before Fevionawishtensen, but it seemed there was no other option. Besides, he had told Sinitïa already—although telling her somehow felt different. Because she was human? It was hard to say, and it did not really matter. Fevionawishtensen would surely understand, given the circumstances.

“We are learning about a group called the Pundritta,” he explained. “My family has apparently been searching for them for many generations.”

Chiansamorkin took a step backwards. Her eyes darted back and forth. “Pundritta?”

“Jorvan thinks they took Meleng.”

“Not necessarily,” Jorvanultumn said. “But it is a possibility. Hilkorultumn’s diare compiled many notes on the organization and we—”

Chiansamorkin barked a laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”

Jorvanultumn shook his head.

“There are Darkers everywhere,” Sinitïa said. “They’ve been hunting Meleng and Jorvan and Felitïa for like a year now.”

Chiansamorkin shook her head and walked over to the low-table. “But the name Pundritta implies an Isyar group.” She looked at the crates on the table and the floor beside it. “There are no Isyar Darkness Worshippers.”

“I was horrified by the thought as well,” Jorvanultumn said. “A part of me still has doubts, I think, but it is foolish to believe that Isyar are beyond corruption.”

“Yes, but a whole organization? The name implies a council like the Lamdritta or the Lordritta ruling over or running a group of others.”

Jorvanultumn nodded. “Exactly.”

Chiansamorkin gave a forced laugh. “Oh come on, Jorvanultumn. Where have they been? Why has no one heard of them?”

“They operate in secret, obviously.”

“Yes, but even in secret, an organisation that has been around for generations? There would be rumours, legends. I’ve never heard anything. And if your family has been hunting them, why have they never told anyone else?”

“We are sworn to secrecy.”

She laughed. “Yeah, that’s a policy that will get you far.”

“That is why I am breaking that secrecy.”

“Everyone will think you’re mad and several of them are already not well inclined to you at the moment. Keep going this way and they’ll banish you at best, and you’ll never find Meleng Drago.”

“Chiansamorkin, do you trust me?”

She sighed and leaned on one of the crates on the low-table. “Yes, of course I trust you.”

“Then trust me on this.”

She rolled her eyes. “Trusting you does not mean I think you’re incapable of being wrong.”

“Just look at the files with us then. If you think they are nonsense afterwards, then...fine.” Given how helpful the notes had been so far, he doubted they would convince her if she was this adamant—and he supposed he could not really blame her. But he had expected her to be a little more open-minded, enough to at least consider the possibility. She had not had any issue accepting that an Isyar was responsible for abducting Meleng.

“All right, fine,” Chiansamorkin said. “Let’s look at these files. I see you’ve opened one of these boxes. Mentalism by the looks of it.”

Jorvanultumn nodded. “I thought it was the best place to start since we know Meleng was abducted by a mentalist.”

Chiansamorkin pulled up a stool beside Jorvanultumn. “Makes sense. So let’s look at mentalism.”

“We were looking at signs that help identify members of the Pundritta.”

“Paydamat fits two!” Sinitïa said.

“Does she?” Chiansamorkin said.

“At least. Some of the signs are hard to tell, like what does it mean to meditate too much?”

Chiansamorkin snorted. “That’s one of the signs?” She gave Jorvanultumn a look. “Surely it’s more specific than that.”

Jorvanultumn shook his head.

Chiansamorkin put a hand to her head. “This is what you’re trusting to help find Meleng Drago?”

Sinitïa fumbled for the folder they had been looking at and held up the picture of the mentalism symbol. “But they have symbols! See? We can look for these.”

Chiansamorkin looked at the picture. “Okay, that’s something a little more tangible. So we need to look for someone wearing this symbol?”

“Yes,” Jorvanultumn said.

“Then let’s go do that.” Chiansamorkin jumped to her feet.

“Why are you so intent on stopping us from doing this?” Jorvanultumn asked.

“I’m not. I just…” She pointed to the picture. “If that’s what we’re looking for, shouldn’t we go look for it instead of sitting here?”

“There are other symbols to learn. We started with mentalism, but we should learn the others too. Whoever took Meleng may not be acting alone. We should learn the other signs too. They may not be very helpful, but they might provide us with...something.”

“Fine.” With a sigh, Chiansamorkin grabbed the conjuration crate and dragged it to the other side of the table, where she pulled up another stool. “I’ll do conjuration. It’s my discipline. I might have better insight.” She took the lid off and pulled out the first folder, grumbling the whole time.

“If it is like the mentalism crate, the first folder will be a catalogue. You want the second folder.”

Chiansamorkin eyed him, dropped the first folder, and pulled out the second. She opened it with a very exaggerated motion.

“Thank you,” Jorvanultumn said.

“I think she’s a little upset,” Sinitïa said quietly.

Jorvanultumn could not blame her. He would have to make it up to her later somehow. He put the mentalism folders back in their crate, and reached for the remaining crate on the table. “We will do enchantment, Sinitïa.”

“Meleng’s discipline!”

“Yes.” He took only the second folder out this time and opened it, glancing briefly at the signs. “The individual considers themself cleverer than everyone else,” he read aloud.

“What if they really are cleverer than everyone?” Sinitïa asked. “Like Meleng.”

Chiansamorkin barked a laugh.

“He really is cleverer than everyone!” Sinitïa said. “I mean, I think...Clever means smart, right?”

“That’s not what I was laughing at.” Chiansamorkin slapped her folder down on the table. “These so-called signs. Willing to disregard tradition is the first one. That would be fine if it was a rare thing, but it’s not. I told you before, Jorvanultumn, about how young people today think a lot of our traditions are outdated and should be changed. Then there’s the next one: extroverted and outgoing. Again, not rare! Hell, I’m extroverted.”

“What does extroverted mean?” Sinitïa whispered.

“Opposite of introverted,” Jorvanultumn replied.

“And then…” Chiansamorkin looked about to laugh again and paused. “Get this. Sexually perverted. Seriously? What does that mean? I can guarantee you Griholbovroh has a completely different opinion than you or I.”

“Let us just stick to the symbols.” As he said that, Jorvanultumn flipped the page over to the enchantment symbol: two vertical lines, the one on the right having a hook on the top, and a solid circle between the two.

“That looks like the symbol on one of the doors where I’m staying,” Sinitïa said, “except there’s no circle there.”

“It is the general enchantment symbol,” Jorvanultumn said, “but with the circle added. A solid circle in Isyarian can represent night or darkness.”

“Is that how the mentalism symbol works?”

Jorvanultumn shook his head. “The wavy lines are completely different from the general mentalism symbol.” He looked over at Chiansamorkin. “What is the conjuration one like?”

Chiansamorkin lifted up her folder so that the back was covering her face. She flipped the page. “It’s just the general conjuration symbol with a solid circle in the centre.” She closed the folder and placed it back in its crate.

“Strange. I wonder why mentalism is different.” He reached for the elementalism crate on the floor and pulled it closer. “I wonder what elementalism does.”

While he opened the crate, Sinitïa stood up and walked around the table towards Chiansamorkin.

“What are you doing?” Chiansamorkin said.

“I want to look at the conjuration symbol.”

Chiansamorkin placed the lid on the conjuration crate. “I told you. It’s like the general symbol with a circle in the centre.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what that looks like. I have to see it.”

“Ah, right, of course.” Chiansamorkin stepped back from the crate and the table.

Jorvanultumn turned his attention back to the elementalism crate. He removed the lid and lifted the first folder out of the way to get the second.

“Jorvan?”

He looked up. Sinitïa had the conjuration folder open, but she was looking at Chiansamorkin, who was now standing by the door, a look of...was that terror on her face?

“What is it?” he asked.

Sinitïa came around the table and held out the folder. “Look.”

The conjuration symbol showed a central solid circle surrounded by a second circle. Two lines extended from the central circle, each at an opposite angle from the vertical. “That is nothing like the general conjuration symbol,” he said.

“I’ve seen it before,” Sinitïa said, still watching Chiansamorkin.

“You have?” It did seem familiar.

Sinitïa pointed, her finger shaking. “It’s the symbol in her eye.”

Jorvanultumn looked at Chiansamorkin, who gave a sad smile. “I can explain.”

“Where’s Meleng?” Sinitïa yelled. “What have you done with him?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t—”

Sinitïa rushed forward. “I trusted you!” She raised her fists at Chiansamorkin.

With a wave of her hand, Chiansamorkin conjured a column of air that Sinitïa bounced off. With a wave of his own hand, Jorvanultumn took the air column and brought it round as a cushion for Sinitïa to land on.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“It was not harmful. I would never harm her, or you. Please, Jorvanultumn, you have to believe me. I did not take Meleng Drago. I love you and would never hurt you like that!”

Sinitïa scrambled to her feet, small bits of colour dripping from her fingers. “Where is he? Where’s my Melly?” She ran at Chiansamorkin again, but a strong wind threw her backwards into the low-table. She slumped over.

“Stop!” Jorvanultumn yelled. “Chiansamorkin, stop!”

“She’s just unconscious. She’ll recover. But I had to stop her before she burned herself out.” Chiansamorkin clasped her hands in front of her face. “Please, Jorvanultumn, you have to listen to me. I didn’t take Meleng Drago, and I don’t know who did.”

Jorvanultumn stared at her. He had no idea what to do. How was this possible? He had known her his whole life. She could be fiery, a bit volatile at times, but she had never done anything to suggest she would worship Night.

Hilkorultumn stomped into the room. “What the hell is going on in here?” he demanded in Isyarian. His eyes fell on Sinitïa’s slumped form on the low-table. “What the…?”

“She’s Pundritta,” Jorvanultumn said slowly and quietly.

Hilkorultumn’s eyes widened and Chiansamorkin sneered.

A tear formed in Jorvanultumn’s eye. Gods, what had he just done?

Hilkorultumn’s wings spread out and with a flap, he gathered the air in the room into a funnel and threw it at Chiansamorkin. It picked her up and threw her across the room. “Jorvanultumn, with me. Two against one. She may be strong, but we can take her together.”

Chiansamorkin screamed and leapt into the air. Her wings beat and shards of rock flew at Hilkorultumn, who took control of them with a wave of his arm. They turned and flew back at Chiansamorkin.

She kicked out as she landed and a sheet of metal blocked the shards. Her wing whipped out to the side and ropes appeared at Hilkorultumn’s legs, wrapping round. “Stupid old man.” Another flap of the wing and more ropes bound his wrists.

Hilkorultumn fell forwards, but his wings fluttered, churning up the air around Chiansamorkin. “Jorvanultumn, don’t stand there! Help me!”

Jorvanultumn blinked. What was he doing? Hilkorultumn was right. He needed to help. He moved his hand in a circle and assisted with the winds around Chiansamorkin. With his wings, he took control of two of the ice crates, breaking them apart. As the folders fell to the floor, he sent the ice shards—not sharp; he didn’t want to hurt her more than necessary—at Chiansamorkin.

She kicked again, and another metal sheet appeared. Jorvanultumn was ready for that and he guided the shards around it, only for them to melt away in the wave of fire she brought up. The winds blew it out but not before there was nothing left of the ice.

Jorvanultumn stirred the winds up more, tried to push her up against the wall. Why were they having so little effect? He groaned. She had brought up her own column of winds holding his and Hilkorultumn’s back.

He moved the winds aside and used them to lift Sinitïa gently from the low-table. With careful steps, he then took control of the stone of the low-table and threw it at Chiansamorkin.

It didn’t reach her. Flames exploded from within the table and it shattered. Shards flew everywhere.

Jorvanultumn took control of as many of the shards as he could, focusing on those nearest Sinitïa, protecting her from harm. Shards pounded into his face, his chest, his shoulders. He stumbled back.

It took him a moment to regain his footing. He spun air around himself and Sinitïa to protect from further attack. Across the room, Hilkorultumn huddled, face-down, on the floor, his arms and legs still bound, his bloody and shredded wings spread around him. He had used them to protect his body from the stone.

Chiansamorkin was breathing heavily. Blood dripped from a cut on her forehead. “Don’t make me kill you, Jorvanultumn. Please.”

Jorvanultumn lowered Sinitïa to the floor and then focused his attention on Chiansamorkin. He indicated Hilkorultumn. “Look what you’ve done!” He turned his feet side to side, taking control of the ice that formed the floor. “I have to stop you.”

She wiped tears from her eyes. “Then I’m sorry.”

She punched her fist forward and metal balls—dozens—flew at Jorvanultumn. He pulled air around himself, blew them aside. A kick of her feet and more launched from the floor. He pulled ice from the floor in front of them. Then pulled it up as a shield between him and her. More metal balls hit his left shoulder and then his right.

Her movements were too fast for him. Objects came at him from every direction. His ice shield shattered. Things smashed against his face, chest, and arms, as well as his back between his wings. He tried to take control of them. He tried to grab the earth and air in them. He shattered the flame globe in the room and drew the fire out, but she doused it with water.

Vines from the walls grabbed his shoulders, lifted him up and pulled him back, cracked his head against the wall. He used his wings and tried to pull together a funnel of air to throw at her. Something grabbed his ankle. The vines let go of his shoulders and whatever had his ankle threw him to the left into the adjacent wall.

He tried to pull himself to his feet. He had lost control of the air in the room. Once again, he extended his wings, but something hit him on the back of the head and he fell over again. Then something grabbed his ankle again and threw him across the room. He smashed face-first into the wall. Pain cascaded through his body as he fell backwards. Something grabbed him once more, flipped him over. He landed on his stomach.

More things—vines? His vision was too blurred to tell—wrapped around his arms and legs. They dragged him across the floor. They stopped when his face was at Chiansamorkin’s feet. A moment later, they pulled him up by the shoulders, raised him so he was at eye level with her.

She sniffled and looked him in the eyes. With his blurred vision, they looked more opaque. More like Fevionawishtensen’s. At least thoughts of her would be his last before he died.

“They say elementalists are a conjuror’s worst enemy. They’re wrong. But naïve elementalists like you believe them.” She smiled sadly. “They also say a conjuror is an elementalist’s greatest ally, and they’re right about that one. We could still be allies, Jorvanultumn.”

He shook his head. “Not after this.”

“We were supposed to be fomazee.”

“Not anymore.”

“But I love you, and I love Fevionawishtensen. I love you both so much.”

“You’re Pundritta.”

She barked another laugh and stepped back, arms outstretched. “I’m the fucking Pundhir! Just like Lamdhir, the youngest ever. Way to go me! Look at my great accomplishments! I’ve done so much while losing everyone I have ever loved. You. My diare. My…” She paused and wiped tears from her eyes. “My fomase.”

“You...you had a fomase?”

She looked away from him. “It doesn’t matter.” She bent over Sinitïa.

“Leave her alone.”

She glanced back at Jorvanultumn. “I would never hurt her.” She ran a hand through Sinitïa’s hair. “I would have made her the most powerful human wizard ever. Find her a brilliant teacher, one that will bring her to her true potential. Prophecy calls her the Light-Bringer. Help her fulfil her destiny.” She stood up and faced Jorvanultumn. “You have a place in prophecy too, you know, though I confess, I don’t understand yours. Supposedly, you completed yours over two thousand years ago.”

“What are you talking about?”

She smiled thinly. “I wish I had the time to tell you, and you were willing to listen.”

There were yells from outside.

“We made a lot of noise just now. Someone was bound to call the Hgirh. I love you, Jorvanultumn, but if you attempt to follow me, I will kill you. Tell Fevionawishtensen I love her and I’m sorry. I hope you find Meleng Drago. I really do. Goodbye.” She could barely get out the last word amidst sobs. She spread her wings and flew up through the open roof, amidst more yells.

The hpakrik vines holding Jorvanultumn let go and withered away. He rushed over to Sinitïa. A bruise was forming on her forehead, but she seemed otherwise fine. Then he rushed over to Hilkorultumn. He was alive, but in a much worse state. In addition to his torn wings, he had numerous puncture wounds over his body. He was unconscious and his breathing ragged.

Two Hgirh flew into the room. They said something, but Jorvanultumn could barely hear them. He looked up in the direction Chiansamorkin had flown off in, and wailed.