'Uh,' said Logen. He could have managed with a lot less glory if it meant a decent dinner. He prodded unhappily at the bubbling mush with a spoon.

Longfoot leaned over to mutter under his breath. 'It would seem our illustrious employer is having some further troubles with his apprentice.' Bayaz' lecture was growing steadily louder and more bad-tempered.

'… being handy with a pan is all very well, but the practice of magic is still your first vocation. There has been a distinct change in your attitude of late. A certain watchfulness and disobedience. I am beginning to suspect that you may prove a disappointing pupil.'

'And were you always a fine pupil?' There was a trace of a mocking smile on Quai's face. 'Was your own master never disappointed?'

'He was, and the consequences were dire. We all make mistakes. It is a master's place to try to stop his students making the same ones.'

'Then perhaps you should tell me the history of your mistakes. I might learn to be a better student.'

Master and apprentice glared at each other over the fire. Logen did not like the look of Bayaz' frown. He had seen such looks before on the First of the Magi, and the outcome had never been good. He couldn't understand why Quai had shifted from abject obedience to sullen opposition in the space of a few weeks, but it wasn't making anyone's life easier. Logen pretended to be fascinated by the porridge, half-expecting to be suddenly deafened by the roar of searing flame. But when sound came it was only Bayaz' voice, and speaking softly.

'Very well, Master Quai, there is some sense in your request, for once. Let us talk of my mistakes. An expansive subject indeed. Where to start?'

'At the beginning?' ventured his apprentice. 'Where else should a man ever start?'

The Magus gave a sour grunt. 'Huh. Long ago, then, in the Old Time.' He paused for a moment and stared into the flames, the light shifting over his hollow face. 'I was Juvens' first apprentice. But soon after starting my education, my master took a second. A boy from the South. His name was Khalul.' Ferro looked up suddenly, frowning from the shadows. 'From the beginning, the two of us could never agree. We both were far too proud, and jealous of each other's talents, and envious of any mark of favour the other earned from our master. Our rivalry persisted, even as the years passed and Juvens took more apprentices, twelve in all. In the beginning, it drove us to be better pupils: more diligent, more devoted. But after the horror of the war with Glustrod, many things were changed.'