“You needn’t concern yourself with that,” Wencit said. “For now, I ask you to simply close your eyes and concentrate on the crystal. Imagine that the heat from your hand is warming the crystal, making it glow. Picture light being absorbed into the crystal and radiating outward. Just do as I ask,” he urged, at Bran’s obvious nervousness. “Just close your eyes and relax.”

As Bran obeyed, closed eyelids trembling, Wencit turned his attention to the shiral crystal lying inert in his subject’s hand. When nothing happened for several seconds, Wencit’s brow creased in a frown; but then he cupped his hands over the crystal to shade it, not touching it or Bran’s hands—and was rewarded with a faint glimmer deep in the crystal’s heart. Pursing his lips thoughtfully, Wencit lightly brushed Bran’s hand with one hand, while the other closed on the dangling chain and withdrew the crystal. The younger man started and opened his eyes just in time to glimpse the crystal still glowing as the older man twirled the chain idly between thumb and fingertips.

“It—it worked,” Bran whispered in awe.

“It did—though it appears that you are not true Deryni after all.” Wencit noted the stricken look on Bran’s face and smiled, knowing he now owned the man. “But you needn’t worry. You have the potential to assume full powers, as did the humans of old when they accomplished the Restoration. That is, perhaps, better in many ways, for you would have been obliged to learn to use native Deryni powers. The assumed ones come full-blown and ready to deploy.”

“Which means?”

Wencit stood casually and stretched, the shiral crystal dangling from its chain in his hand. “Which means that the next step is to Mind-See you, to evaluate your potential and to set up the conditions under which I can bestow power on you. You needn’t fret yourself with the details. The kings of Gwynedd have been doing it successfully for generations, so there is no danger. I trust that you are prepared to stay the night.”

“I hadn’t planned to, but—”

“But under the circumstances, you will,” Wencit finished for him, smiling faintly. He came around to the other side of the table and sat easily on the edge, to Bran’s left. “I shall even send your captain back to reassure your men. ’Tis a pity that you put my emissaries out of commission. Duke Lionel, my brother-in-law, possesses assumed Deryni powers similar to those you will shortly receive. I could have relayed the information through him, had you not dosed him with that sleeping potion. As it is, he will be groggy and testy and utterly impossible to live with for several days, until the effects wear off completely. Still, that is sometimes the price one must pay for progress, and he knows it. Sit back and relax, please.”

“Wh-what are you going to do?” Bran murmured, apprehensive, for he had totally lost the sorcerer’s line of logic in his bewilderment.

“I told you: Mind-See.” Wencit twisted the golden chain so that the shiral crystal spun between him and Bran. “Now, I desire your assistance in this. Relax and do not resist me, or you will be left with a beastly headache when we’re done. Your cooperation will make it easier for both of us.”