Juran opened his mouth as if to say more, then shook his head and turned to regard Auraya. “We have much to do today, and I’m sure your adviser would appreciate it if we chose more comfortable surroundings than the Tower roof in which to discuss your time in Somrey.”

“Then perhaps we should meet in your rooms,” she suggested. “I have arranged for a window in mine to be made into a door. It’s a little…drafty.”

Juran’s eyebrows rose. “My rooms, then.” He glanced at Leiard. “Let us delay no longer.” With a polite gesture, he indicated that Leiard should walk beside him back to the stairway door.

As he fell into step beside the White’s leader, Leiard felt a nagging misgiving. Do not trust him, the other voice in his mind whispered. Taking a deep breath, Leiard did his best to ignore it. The sooner he started teaching Jayim to link, and so could assert his own identity on a regular basis, the better.

This time the ritual words Juran recited at the beginning of the meeting in the Altar stirred gratitude as well as loyalty in Auraya. The two short phrases she contributed were spoken with more feeling than ever before.

“We thank you.”

Her thanks now included the extraordinary Gift the gods had given her. Juran had called her to the roof early, to see if he could master the skill. Though she explained it as clearly as she could, and even projected her understanding of it to him mentally, he could not emulate her.

“Perhaps I should throw myself off the Tower,” he had murmured once. As he looked over the railing to the ground, he had shuddered. “No, I think some risks are not worth taking. It would not be a pleasant way to discover this is a Gift meant solely for you.”

Which was an interesting possibility. Would the others be given their own unique Gifts? Perhaps the gods would explain today…

“Guide us.”

At these words her thoughts shifted to the other reason they had gathered here and her mood darkened. They were to discuss her encounter with the Pentadrian sorcerer.

The brief ritual over, Juran regarded the other White soberly.

“Two black sorcerers,” he said. “Both Pentadrians. Both powerful. One who claimed to be Kuar, the leader of their cult. If he is their leader, why did he come here alone? Why did the other Pentadrian come? Are they a danger to Northern Ithania?” He paused and looked at each of them expectantly.

“The answer to your last question is clear,” Dyara said. “This man called Kuar bested Auraya in a plain battle of strength. She is stronger than Rian and Mairae. That means he is a danger to at least three of us. The first Pentadrian showed us how dangerous they are to the people of Northern Ithania.”