But I trust that feeling. I know I am right.

“True, Shari,” said Varen, “but I’ll inform the General Council we will permit Dorana’s trader-mages stronger wardings, should tensions rise. Now, to the question of age limits with regards to tertiary-level incantations…”

The meeting continued. Not the smallest question of complaint or clarification regarding magework in Dorana failed to be considered by the Council of Mages. Let the General Council truck with commonplace laws and tax collection and civil infringements and foreign ructions and the like. The Council of Mages dealt with far loftier matters.

They confirmed the tertiary-level incant age at twelve; amended the statute dealing with legal recourse for non-Doranen individuals suffering hardship as a result of magework; approved in principle the new syllabus for parochial mage education—pending commentary from the College of Mages, which was jealous of its private educational purviews; extended the temporary prohibition placed upon the sale of mage-enhanced fireworks until the investigation into the destruction of the artisanry at Nyecroft was completed; and drafted a formal letter of censure to one Marale Chasin, an unranked mage who was overheard by four witnesses criticising the Council’s recent decision to deny marriage rights to those unfortunate Doranen afflicted with a lack of mage talent.

“And so to our last item of business,” said Varen. “The College’s proctor has received a letter regarding student admission. Given the sensitive nature of this request, he referred the matter to Lord Hahren and Hahren is now referring it to us.”

“Sensitive how?” said Sallis, stifling a yawn. He was only a year or three behind Varen, and lacking in stamina.

Varen consulted his notes. “The mage in question, one Barl Lindin, is unranked. She’s a clock mage in the Eleventh district hamlet of Batava.”

Venette snorted. “She’s an optimist, you mean.”

“So it would seem. She applied to the College several years ago and was refused. According to Hahren she now says—” Again, Varen consulted his notes. “ ‘I am sure that once the College is made familiar with my mageworking abilities it will reconsider my application and offer me a place.’ ”

“I take it back,” said Venette, laughing. “She’s not an optimist, she’s an upstart. Tell Hahren to tell her to seek a parochial remedy for her woes. There are mage schools aplenty for the unranked of Dorana. They can’t possibly begrudge us a single school of our own.”

“And if they do complain, that’s no cause for us to listen,” Shari added. “Jealousy’s not to be rewarded.”

Muttered agreement from Sallis Arkley. With a slight, appreciative smile, Varen shifted his gaze. “Your thoughts, Morgan?”

He shrugged. “I think this young woman must be touched in the head. Lindin. Have we even heard of the family?”

“No,” Sallis said briskly. “And after today never shall again.” He pushed to his feet. “I have my own business with Hahren. Shall I tender him our opinion?”

Varen’s pale eyebrows lifted. “You think to withdraw?”

“We’re done here, aren’t we?”

“I have not formally said so.”