“My lord…” Nydd groped within his tunic for a handkerchief and dabbed dry his sweaty forehead. “Whatever is afflicting Dorana, I regret to tell you that it has spread. Mage-mist has been encountered at your Brantone vineyards, and on the suswill farms in Trindek and Manemli. In all three cases your properties lie close to the Doranen border. This suggests that the trouble has not spread far, but—”

“But it has spread.”

“I fear so.”

“There’s no doubt it was mage-mist?”

“None, my lord. The descriptions tally in every respect.”

“I see. And who else have you told?”

“Who else?” Perplexed, Nydd stared at him. “No-one, my lord. Of course.”

“And the subordinates who sent you these reports?”

“They’ve been told to hold their tongues, on pain of severe retribution,” said Nydd. “But chances are they’re not the only witnesses. Chances are the mage-mist will be seen elsewhere, and reported on. There will be panic, my lord, which does not bode well for your interests.”

It did not bode well for a number of things. Curse it. Showing nothing but a restrained concern, he nodded.

“You were right to bring this to my immediate attention, Nydd. Now go home and steady yourself with some brandy. If you receive any more reports of mage-mist beyond our borders, inform me at once. And above all else, maintain your excellent discretion. Not a word of this is to pass your lips. Understood?”

“Of course, my lord,” Nydd murmured. “I will leave these reports with you, that you might peruse them at length.”

As soon as the library door closed, Morgan sat at the nearest reading table and frowned at the smears his dragging fingertip left on the polished wood. Frowned at the letters Nydd had left behind.

Mage-mist in Brantone? In Manemli and Trindek? I did not anticipate that.

He hadn’t anticipated the depth of Dorana’s disruptions, either. Still, the trouble was temporary. Everything would return to normal once his transmutation work was complete. If he was certain of anything, he was certain of that. Everything he understood about syllabic harmonics confirmed it. Neverthless, this spreading of the mage-mist was a most inconvenient development. If Venette lost faith in him, she’d withdraw her assistance.

There is only one remedy. Barl and I must redouble our efforts. We’re in a race against time now. A race we must win.

“What did Nydd want?” his beloved said, when he joined her in the attic. Her eyes were heavy with weariness, her cheeks pale from lack of rest. “Is everything all right?”