“What if this Belmage really did take over Danny North? What could we do?”

“Kill Danny,” said the Gate Thief. “What choice would we have?”

“Why didn’t you kill him already? You were there with him at the Great Gate.”

“Because Danny North hasn’t done anything that makes him deserve to die.”

“He made a Great Gate.”

“When people made Great Gates, I took the power to do it away from them,” said Wad. “But I didn’t kill them. I’m not the Belmage. I refuse to be a monster.”

“I refuse to be a monster, too. But it doesn’t mean that I’m not one.”

Wad smiled. “I know. But I can help you get control of your power. To become master of the wind, instead of the wind ruling you, as it’s doing now.”

“It feels as though I’m controlling it. And yet I can’t stop, because I want whatever it wants.”

“That’s right,” said Wad. “You’re like the wick of a candle. The flame could not survive without the wick to concentrate it—but the wick is not the master of the flame. The flame consumes it, bit by bit.”

Ced knew at once that this was true. He nodded. “I wouldn’t have said it that way, but it’s the truth.”

“I’m glad that you’re aware of it—it’s the beginning of wisdom. It’s the hardest thing for a mage to learn.”

“And you’ll teach me, Wad? How to control my power?”

“Me?” Wad laughed. “How, when I never learned the lesson all that well myself? I’m the tool of spacetime in just the way that you’re the tool of the wind. No, I’ll take you to the best teachers. The ones who can help mages of every kind, because they have almost infinite patience and understanding, or they could never become masters of their own magery.”

“Who?”