Magda had suspected that they were wizards by their simple robes. She had known they were when she had looked into their eyes.

While she had no gift for magic, she did have the rare knack of being able to see the gift in the eyes of those who possessed it. She’d always thought of it as merely a form of intuition. Baraccus had said that it was more. He had told her that, while she was ungifted in the overt sense, she had latent abilities that set her apart in at least some small ways from others who were ungifted.

He’d said that the spark of life was stronger in her than in most people. That, he said, was what he saw in her eyes, that she was not merely beautiful but intelligent, unusual, rare. He had sometimes looked into her eyes and whispered to himself how bewitching she was, as if she weren’t there hearing him, as if he were all alone looking upon some exceptional specimen rather than his wife.

Magda never thought of herself as exceptional, but she did feel lucky that he thought so.

She recalled quite clearly the first time she had looked into Baraccus’s eyes. She remembered feeling momentarily lost for words as she gazed in those gentle, knowing eyes. Looking into his eyes had made her feel safe. She had known that he was gifted, of course, but she’d also seen a handsome older man behind those abilities that she was inexplicably drawn to. Who knew the ways of love?

Besides being aware of the presence of the gift in the eyes of all three men, Magda was pretty sure that she recognized the first two. She didn’t know their names, but she thought that she had seen both of them before. Magda had occasionally gone with Baraccus on some of his frequent visits down into the lower Keep to see his wizards. She thought that she must have seen the men one of those times because she didn’t recall them ever coming to see Baraccus in their apartments.

She also thought that she recalled the name Merritt. Baraccus met with a lot of gifted people and he didn’t always introduce her. She knew when he preferred that she remain in the background or even out of sight, such as when people came to discuss confidential matters or to report trouble. There had been times, after such visitors left, that he would stand at a window, stoically staring out at the city of Aydindril below.

Sometimes, though, when visitors left he would tell her their names and what it had been about. On occasion he talked to her about people he’d met with down in the lower Keep. The name Merritt sounded familiar, though she couldn’t place a face with the name. It could be that she’d never seen him, merely heard Baraccus mention him.