Flat, confident, assured. If there was madness here, Thierry thought, changing his mind, it was of a very particular sort. He has seen too much was the phrase that came suddenly to him.

Gauvard glanced at him quickly, as if he’d heard the thought aloud.

“Two clever boys,” he said. “How exciting.”

It wasn’t. It was frightening.

Gauvard gestured, and a cat Thierry hadn’t seen came from by the fire and jumped up on his lap, circled, and settled.

“I understand,” Medor said, “but I still hope you can help us. This is important, and you’ve known me all my life.”

“I held you as a newborn babe in my arms!” Gauvard’s tone changed. “Doesn’t matter as to those two questions. You know it.” No hint of amusement now. “And yes, of course this is important. The provost will have choices to make.”

“Are they his to make?” Medor asked.

Gauvard hesitated for the first time. “That’s a good question. I wouldn’t want danger to come to him. Or to you, nephew. Or even to this little poet who has amused me with his writing.”

Thierry blinked. He said, “I have spoken with fortune tellers, astrologers, chiromancers. I’ve seen people go into a trance and emerge with what they say are words from the dead. I have not known anyone like you.” He asked again, “How did you know me?”

“More flattery!” Gauvard cried. “I do like this boy, nephew!”

But he still didn’t answer, and Thierry realized he wasn’t going to. He also realized he kept thinking he and…he wasn’t certain. Medor had called him uncle, Thierry decided he would be guided by that.

People spoke of the half-world, and those with access to it. Most, he’d decided long ago, were charlatans, preying on men and women with losses, needs, fears. This one…he wasn’t sure. The uncertainty kept coming back.

“Are we in danger?” Medor asked. “If we investigate?”

Again Gauvard hesitated. “I think you are, yes. There are very high levels of power engaged here. The…rules change with that?” He looked at Medor with what Thierry thought might be affection. Their host stroked the cat. “You know what you believe by now, but you want to be able to prove it?”

Medor nodded. “Yes. Uncle, is the man in the red cloak dead?”

Laughter rippled. “He should be! But I don’t know that.”

“They left Orane last night?”

Gauvard’s expression became disdainful. “Are you a child looking for adults to tell you things? I don’t know.”

“Not a child. Trying to help the provost do the right thing. I expect more from you than mockery.”

“Always a mistake,” Gauvard said, almost sullenly this time. Medor’s uncle tossed his head, pushed a hand through his hair, then smiled at each of them. He left his gaze on Thierry. He pointed a finger at him.