Heklatis regarded it fondly. “Well, then, there is your explanation, my lord. It is not magic that you sense, but the blessing of my gods! I took all my household images to the appropriate temples to have them blessed before I left to journey here. And I took the precaution of acquiring a large store of specially blessed amulets at the same time. I supposed that some of my patients might seek the blessing of a god when they came to me to be healed, and I was right.”

“Heresy!” said the Magus in a strangled voice. Somehow he didn’t sound sincere. Not surprising, considering that what the Magi were doing, in raiding the Temple of the Twins for the Winged Ones in order to work their magic, might well actually be heresy.

“I beg your pardon?” Heklatis frowned. “There is no law in Alta barring the worship of other gods than those you Altans worship. The contrary, in fact. And I make offerings at both sets of altars, yours and mine, anyway. So where is the heresy in that?”

“It is—” but the Magus could get no further; he simply spluttered and shuffled his feet in impotent rage.

“Are you suggesting that the Great Ones are planning on barring the worship of one’s own gods in one’s own household?” Heklatis continued, eyes glittering dangerously. “I certainly hope that is not the case. I would not remain in this city for a single moment, if I thought that was true—and neither would any other Akkadian, and of course, I would have to tell my compatriots of the change in the law as soon as I could.” He held out his free hand and studied his fingernails carefully. “I think the Great Ones would soon come to regret that before too long. Given the kinds of positions that Akkadians fill all over this city. . . .”

A veiled threat, and they both knew it—and they both knew that Akkadians did serve in key functions all over Alta, and what was more, they would pack up and leave, taking their skills and their accumulated wealth with them, if they were denied the right to have images of their choosing in their household, and worship their own gods. Heklatis wasn’t bluffing. And the Magus knew it.

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. . . .”