Duncan snorted in derision as he brought a candlestick from his desk, lit it at the fire, and placed it on the table. “Very amusing, Cousin. You know very well that all my assistants are at the cathedral preparing for Kelson’s coronation tomorrow.” He smiled at the boy and sat down again. “And I hardly think I need remind you where our esteemed archbishop is at this moment. I had to get special permission to stay here today in case Kelson needed me—which I surmise he does, though not in precisely the way His Excellency thinks.”

He and Morgan exchanged knowing glances, and Kelson nudged Morgan’s elbow impatiently, craning his neck to see what was in the bag Morgan still had not opened. Morgan gave the boy a reassuring smile and finished untying the thongs. Reaching gloved fingers inside, he carefully extracted a bit of gold and crimson fire and laid it in the one gloved palm. At Kelson’s gasp of recognition, Morgan wistfully extended his hand toward the boy.

“You know the ring, my prince? Don’t touch it. You aren’t properly shielded.”

Kelson exhaled softly and withdrew his hand, eyes wide with awe. “It’s the Ring of Fire, my father’s seal of power. Where did you get it?”

“Brion gave it to me for safekeeping before I left for Cardosa,” Morgan replied, turning his hand slightly so that the stones sparkled.

“May I?” Duncan asked, pulling a silk handkerchief from his sleeve.

Morgan nodded and extended his hand.

Gathering the folds of silk around his fingers, Duncan gingerly picked up the ring and held it closer to the candlelight. As he turned it, the scarlet stones cast tiny, bright reflections on the three observers and on the tapestried walls. Duncan examined the ring minutely, then placed it in the center of the table, still nestled in its shroud of white silk.

“It’s genuine,” he said with a slight note of relief. “I can feel the residual power in it. Do you have the seal?”

Morgan nodded and began stripping off his gloves. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to make the retrieval, though. I don’t dare approach the altar area with Jehana’s spies out there.” He slipped off an ornate signet ring and held it up between thumb and forefinger. “Are you willing?”

Kelson leaned forward eagerly to inspect the ring. “Sable, a gryphon segreant vert—those are the old Corwyn arms, aren’t they, Morgan?”

“Correct,” Morgan agreed. “Brion had the ring made long ago. And since the arms are those of my Deryni mother, he thought them eminently suitable for carrying the key to your powers.” He shifted his attention to Duncan. “I’ll have to attune it to you. Are you ready?”

“What about—” Duncan inclined his head toward Kelson.