Vai stared at Rory. A kind of shudder ran through his body, not so much physical, and yet as profound as at a blow that struck him to the heart. He shielded his face with a hand, hiding his expression, head propped on hand and elbow propped on table. I held my breath, yet not a touch of icy angry air sullied the humid evening heat.

Bee considered Vai with a thoughtful frown. Brennan was staring at his hands. Kehinde was nodding. What Chartji thought I could not guess.

Rory grinned around the table as if the somber mood had finally rubbed his fur the wrong way. “Is that not a clever way of phrasing it, coming from me? Comfortable in his skin?”

Brennan chuckled in the manner of a man desirous of any excuse to laugh.

Lowering his hand with a sigh, Vai looked at Chartji. “Have you anything to add to this litany of my faults, Chartji?”

“It is clearly a fascinating discussion for you rats,” said Chartji, “but I am more interested in the case you wish me to bring to the law courts.”

Brennan saw a man with a tray and waved him over. “I think we can now send Rory to ask Cat if she wishes to join us.”

“No need to send anyone,” said Vai in his smuggest tone. “She’s been standing behind us the entire time.”

Bee squinted into the darkness. “Cat? What a frightful spy you are, dearest!”

I waited until Brennan had spoken to the server and sent him off before unwinding the shadows.

“That is truly astounding,” said Brennan with a startled smile.

Kehinde asked, “Has anyone ever studied you, Cat? There must be some explanation for how you can do that. Were you taught, or did you teach yourself?”

Vai rose to give me a place to sit next to him. He was staring at the ground, lashes shadowing his lovely eyes. When I hesitated he looked up, and I could not breathe. I saw exactly how it would go if he and I were left alone. I took a place next to Kehinde, facing him. Vai sat with a resigned smile, but when a stout meal of mutton stew simmered in wine, pears poached in brandy, and fresh bread arrived, he ate just like anyone else and looked at me only ten or twelve times that I noticed, for every time I glanced at him he was watching me.

“If you apologize to him for leaving the mage House, I shall kick you,” Bee said under her breath as I savored the moist meat, turnips, and carrots. Beneath the table the toe of her boot nudged my shin in warning.

“This seems to me a conundrum, Magister,” said Kehinde. “Are you a radical or a cold mage?”