Thats spooky, Fuad observed, and seemed perfectly willing to write the idea off as another example of El Murids insanity.

It is, Yousif agreed. Its also damned dangerous if theyre all as willing to die as our three were.

They were. Dredging the dark corners of his mind, El Murid had created a dread new instrument for the furthering of his mission.

Nine weeks later Radetic received a long letter from an old schoolmate, Tortin Perntigan, who had become a professor of mercantile theory. Meaning he was a glorified accounting instructor.

He mulled it for days before taking it to Yousif.

You look strange, the Wahlig told him. Like a man whos just seen his best friend and worst enemy murder each other.

Maybe I have. Ive received a letter from home.

An emergency? You dont have to leave? Yousif seemed alarmed by the prospect. Megelins pride responded warmly.

No. Im not going anywhere. The letter...Itll take some explanation. Quickly, Megelin explained that Perntigan was a long-time friend, that they had been close since entering the Rebsamen together nearly three decades ago.

Hes the one costing you so much when I send my fat packets of mail. Yousif was a tight man with a copper, like all his desert brethren, and repeatedly protested the expense of Megelins communications with his distant colleagues. Ive been sending him fragments of my monograph as I write it, along with my natural observations, notes, thoughts, speculations and what have you. To ensure that not everything will be lost if tragedy strikes. Knowledge is too precious.

I seem to recall having heard that argument.

Yes. Well. Perntigan, old gossip that he is, responds by keeping me informed of the latest from Hellin Daimiel.

Sourly, Yousif observed, It gratifies me no end that youre able to stay in touch. Though it beggars me. Now, what piece of foul gossip has this expensive excuse for scholarly chitchat brought me?

As you are aware, Hellin Daimiel is the financial axis of the west though the standing is being challenged by Itaskian consortiums

Get on with it, Megelin. Bad news is like a dead camel. It gets no pleasanter for being let lie.

Yes, Wahlig. Perntigan is obsessed with a phenomenon the bankers have begun calling the Kasr Helal Gold Seam. Kasr Helal is a fortified Daimiellian trading village on the edge of the Sahel. The same one where, I believe, the Disciples father traded for salt

Megelin! Youre still dancing around it.