The Magehound

Silence hung over the jordaini training field, heavy as swamp mist The ingenious water clock in the nearby library tower tolled the hour, but no one bothered to count its chimes and no one hurried off to his next lesson. No one spoke. No one moved.

"No!"

The word burst from Themo like the cry of a wounded panther. The big jordain pushed his way through the line to stand between the magehound and his condemned friend.

"Surely there has been some mistake," he entreated. "There must have been! Andris is the best of us all. I will appeal this dispute to the Jordaini Council, as is my right."

"Dispute?" Kiva looked more amused than affronted. "In such matters, the word of a magehound is final. There is no appeal and no room for disputation. But since you speak with a passion unusual and refreshing for the jordaini, I am willing to listen."

She turned away from Themo to survey the suddenly hopeful faces of Andris's friends. "Have any of you seen this man use magic? You may speak freely."

A loud chorus of disclaimers rippled down the line, most of them framed by the formal phrases a jordain used to emphasize that his words were not satire or parable, but literal truth.

Kiva looked faintly bored but determined to see her duty through. "Perhaps he has some unusual abilities or accomplishes things that might be difficult to explain without magic?"

"He is skilled in battle strategy, my lady," Vishna said. "Unusually so. But that is no more than the application of a disciplined mind to the cultivation of natural gifts."

"Another proverb," Kiva observed dryly. "Must you jordaini always speak in forms and formulas? It is unspeakably dreary."

'Truth is seldom as interesting as lies," Matteo muttered.

The magehound wheeled toward him, her face incredulous. Immediately Matteo realized his mistake. If the elf woman thought he was accusing her of falsehood, his life was forfeit.

But after a moment Kiva smiled and nodded. "I agree. Unlike truth, lies must make sense. They demand an internal logic and attention to detail that truth, in its innocent arrogance, does not always achieve. Do you understand me, jordain?"

Matteo answered as he always did: honestly. "Not quite, lady."

Her jade-colored brows flew up. "Ah. We have a rare beast here-a man who will admit that he does not know something rather than speak a false word. You are a credit to your kind, jordain."

The lilt in her voice held true praise, but Matteo saw mockery glittering in her eyes. Puzzled, he answered as best he could. "I thank you for your words, lady," he said, adding subtle emphasis that acknowledged the hidden blade in her compliment.

The magehound looked intrigued. "You speak well, for a man whose wits are hemmed in with proverbs and platitudes. Perhaps you would like to tell me about your fellow jordain. What is it about him that makes the crystal sing?"

"I do not know of this crystal and its properties, lady, so I cannot answer your question."

"Actually, that's quite a good answer," she said approvingly. "You do not know the crystal. Well enough. But you do know the man and his character?"

Matteo hesitated, then inclined his head in a single curt nod.

"And do you know him well?" she prodded.

He glanced at Andris, whose face was more familiar to him than his own. "As well as one brother might know another," he said softly.

"You have never once perceived anything unusual about him, no act beyond the scope of any other magic-dead counselor?"

The morning's discussion about the Kilmaruu Paradox came unbidden into Matteo's mind. Quickly he willed the thought away, but some flicker of it must have entered his eyes.

Kiva's lips curved in a smile of feline satisfaction. "There is something, after all. Speak of it."

Matteo sent an anguished look at his friend. "You are pledged to speak truth," Andris said softly. "I would not have you do otherwise, whatever comes of it."

"Andris is indeed skilled in battle strategy," Matteo began reluctantly. "He has applied himself to this study more assiduously than any of us. He possesses an original mind and sees beyond the details of history to what might have been and what might yet be. Like a master weaver, he takes the threads and makes of them new cloth."

"Very poetic," Kiva said coldly. "Your disclaimer is noted. Get to the meat of the matter."

"This morning Andris revealed to me that he has solved the Kilmaruu Paradox."

A soft ripple of astonishment passed through the ranks of the jordaini. The magehound's hired soldiers looked shocked, and even the masters exchanged incredulous glances. Matteo noted that all of the masters seemed surprised by this news. Why so, when Andris indicated that he'd confided in at least one of them?

But Matteo could not consider the matter now. The magehound swayed closer to him, her lovely face dark with menace.