Point to Heklatis, Kiron thought.

The Magus seethed with impotent rage.

“But of course, I am sure this is all just a simple misunderstanding,” Heklatis continued, turning a shining smile on the Magus. “And now that you realize that what you thought was foreign magic is simply the bountiful blessing of my gods, you know that there is nothing to worry about here. Well, at least not magically speaking.” To Kiron’s surprise and delight, Heklatis began to simper at the Magus. “And I wouldn’t call it worry. But unlike mighty Theus, I find older, not younger, men to be the best cup companions. . . .”

The Magus made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, went dead white, and fled.

Kiron stuffed both hands against his mouth to keep from laughing aloud until the Magus was well out of hearing distance. It was very hard, but fortunately, he was laughing so hard that he couldn’t get a sound out anyway. By that point, the convulsions that shook him made it impossible to breathe for several moments. Tears streamed down his face, and he had to sink to his knees, rocking back and forth as he clamped his arms to his sides.

Finally, he sucked in air again in an enormous gasp, and looked up. Heklatis’ grin very nearly set him off again.

“Oh—dear gods!” he gasped, tears still coursing down his cheeks. “Did—you—see—his—-face?”

Heklatis made a rude sound. “As if I would touch him with a barge pole!” he said cheerfully. “Let me get dear old Theus back to his altar, while you get yourself under control before you do yourself an injury. You can dislocate your own jaw by stretching it too far, you know.”

That just set him off again, and Heklatis made an exasperated sigh and went back inside his workroom. Fortunately, he stayed there long enough for Kiron to stop laughing, wipe his eyes, and get back to his feet.

“I think,” the Healer said, as he came back into the courtyard again, “that I might just lodge an official protest with the Great Ones about this incident. I very much doubt that it will rid us of the man, but it will put them all on notice that I was serious.”

“Well, now we know that not only can he not scry past your wards, he can’t even get physically past your wards,” Kiron pointed out. “That’s useful!”

“Ye-es,” Heklatis replied thoughtfully. “The thing is, I wonder why? My magic has never had that effect before. I shall have to look into that very carefully.”

“I had better get back to the wing,” Kiron replied, with some regret, for it was comforting, knowing he was standing in the middle of the one place in the compound that wretched Magus was never going to go.

“Yes, go,” Heklatis said, absently making a shooing motion. “Keep the poultice damp while you wear it, but take it off to fly or do other work. And keep it away from Avatre; I don’t think she’ll try to eat it, but it could make her ill.”