Amirantha descended the stairs to the common room below, and let out a long silent sigh. He knew his foster son understood his argumentative impulse was born of frustration. After the destruction of the villa used by Pug, his family, and students, there had been a flurry of activity. The dead were burned, the wounded tended, and there had been conferences among Pug and his most trusted advisors. Those conferences and discussions had animated the Warlock in a way he had rarely known, and had never shared with another; he had discovered he was happy.

Continuing down the stairs, Amirantha realized that part of his annoyance was the stark contrast between that early energizing period of reorganization here on the island and what he endured now. One night two months ago, everything changed. Pug and Magnus vanished, as had more than thirty of the most powerful of his magician colleagues. Abruptly what had been a somewhat crowded keep was occupied by less than a dozen souls.

The month when Brandos had traveled south to fetch Samantha had been the loneliest time in Amirantha’s life, and he was vexed at discovering that fact. He had a strong opinion on matters of his own conduct and appearances, and missing his foster son did not mesh well with them. More than once he had cursed himself for letting another person grow close to him, especially one he was destined to outlive by a very long time—assuming they both survived the coming struggle.

Reaching the floor of the tower, they entered the common room and saw an unexpected presence.

“Jim Dasher!” said Amirantha in greeting.

Jim rose from his stool before the warming fire and said, “You still here, Amirantha?” He extended his hand and they shook.

He then exchanged greetings with Brandos, as Amirantha said, “My lingering here was at Pug’s request. He can be persuasive.”

“Ah,” said Jim, nodding. “He wouldn’t let you leave.”

Brandos snorted, and Amirantha said, “He was insistent, and truth to tell I found many things here to be interesting.”

Glancing around the stark hall, Jim said, “Really?”

Amirantha smiled. “Well, not so much lately, but the first nine months were fascinating.”

He motioned for Jim to move toward the large doors. “My quarters are adequate but hardly commodious, so I thought to step outside for a breath of air now that the rain has nearly stopped.”

Jim nodded and fell into step behind him. “I just came in from the…” Jim began, then he stopped himself. “Actually, I’m supposed to report directly to Pug on this matter.” He looked hard at Amirantha, then said, “Still, there is much about what I’ve seen that concerns you.”

“Really?” said the Warlock, then he fell silent, content to let the mysterious noble-turned-spy-turned-thief speak when he was ready.