He asked another, instead. "Tell me, General, have you begun to dig all the mass graves, yet? Or do you intend the few who are left alive to simply abandon all the bodies."

"Bodies?"

"Why. . yes, the bodies of all your troops who are going to die."

I hope you like eggs," Sister Philippa sang out as she swept into the tent, holding out a steaming plate.

Zedd rubbed his hands together. "Delightful!"

Everyone else was still standing in stiff, stunned silence. Sister Philippa didn't seem to notice all the hanging jaws.

"I had the cook add some ham and a few other things he had about." She glanced down at Zedd's form. "I thought you could use some substance."

"Marvelous!" Zedd grinned as he relieved her of the plate mounded high with scrambled eggs and ham.

"Ah. ." the general began, seemingly befuddled as to how to frame his question, "might you kindly explain. . what you mean by that, Wizard Zorander?"

"Zedd will do." Zedd looked up from inhaling the intoxicating aroma of the dish. "Dead." He drew the fork across his throat. "You know, dead.

Nearly all of them. Dead." He turned back to Sister Philippa. "This smells delightful." He again inhaled the steam lifting from the plate of eggs.

"Simply delightful. You are a woman of a kind heart and a skillful mind, to think to have the cook add such a splendid complement of ingredients. Simply delightful."

The Sister beamed.

The general lifted a hand. "Wizard Zorander, if I may-"

Adie hushed the burly general. "You be poor competition to food. Be patient."

Zedd took a forkful, humming his pleasure at the flavor he encountered.

As he took a second forkful, Adie guided him to a simple bench at the side of the tent. A table in the middle held a few mugs and a lamp that lent the cozy tent not only its light but its oily odor as well.

Despite Adie's advice to be patient, everyone began talking at once, asking questions and offering objections. Zedd ignored them as he shoveled in the scrambled eggs. The large chunks of ham were delicious. He waved a particular juicy piece of meat to the confounded spectators to indicate his pleasure with it. The spices, the onions, the peppers, and the warm lumps of cheese were delightful. He rolled his eyes and moaned in bliss.

It was the best food he'd had in days. His traveling rations were simple and had long ago become boring. He had often grumbled that Spider ate better than he did. Spider seemed smug about it, too, which he had always found annoying. It wasn't good for a horse to be smug with you.

"Philippa," Verna growled, "must you be so pleased about a plate of eggs?"

"Well the poor man is practically starving." Puzzled by Verna's scowl, she waggled her hand at Zedd. "Just look at him. I'm simply happy to see him enjoy his meal, and pleased I could help one of the Creator's gifted."

Zedd slowed when he all too soon approached the end of his meal, putting off the last few bites. He could have eaten another plate the same size. General Reibisch, sitting on a bench on the opposite side of the small tent, had been furiously twisting a strand of beard. Now, he leaned forward, his intent gaze fixed on Zedd.

"Wizard Zorander, I need-"

"Zedd. Remember?"

"Yes, Zedd. Zedd, the lives of these soldiers are my responsibility.

Could you please tell me if you think they are in danger?"

Zedd spoke around a mouthful. "I already did."

"But. . what is the nature of the danger?"

"The gifted. You know, magic."

The general straightened with a sober expression. His fingers dug into his muscular thighs. "The gifted?"

"Yes. The enemy has gifted among them. I thought you knew."

He blinked a few times as he seemed to run it through his mind again, trying to discover the nugget of invisible danger in Zedd's simple statement.

"Of course we know that."

"Ah. Then why haven't you dug some mass graves?"

Verna shot to her feet. "In the name of Creation! What do you think we are, serving wenches? Here to bring you dinner? We are gifted Sisters, here to defend the army from Jagang's captive Sisters!"

Adie stealthily signaled Verna to sit down and keep quiet. Her voice came out like gravel in honey. "Why don't you tell us what you have found, Zedd? I be sure the general and the Prelate would like to hear how to improve our defenses."

Zedd scraped the small yellow lumps across the plate, collecting them into a final, pitifully small forkful. "Prelate, I didn't mean to imply a deliberate inadequacy on your part."

"Well you certainly "You are all too good, that's all."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Too good. You and your Sisters have spent your lives trying to help people."

"Well. . 1, we-why, of course we help people. That's our calling."

"Killing is not. Jagang will be intent on killing you all."

"We know that, Zedd." The general scratched his beard, his gaze darting back and forth between Verna and Zedd. "The Prelate and her Sisters have helped us with detecting a number of enemy scouts and such. Just the same as Sister Philippa, here, found you when you approached our camp, they've found others intent on harm. They've done their part, Zedd, and without complaint.

Every soldier in this camp is glad to have them here."

"All well and good, but when the army of the Imperial Order attacks, it will be different. They will use the gifted to lay waste to your forces."

"They will try," Verna insisted, trying to be convincing without shouting, which she was clearly itching to do, "but we are prepared to prevent such a thing."

"That's right," Warren said, nodding his confidence. "We have gifted at the ready at all times."

"That's good, that's good," Zedd drawled, as if he might be reconsidering. "Then you have dealt with the simple threats. The albino mosquitoes and such."

General Reibisch's bushy eyebrows wrinkled together. "The what?"

Zedd waved his fork. "So, tell me, then just to satisfy my curiosity-what are the gifted planning to do when the enemy charges our forces? Say, with a line of cavalry?"

"Lay down a line of fire before their cavalry," Warren said without hesitation. "As they charge in, we'll incinerate them before they can so much as launch a spear."

"Ah," Zedd said. "Fire." He put the last forkful in his mouth. Everyone silently watched him chew. He paused in his chewing and looked up. "Big fire, I presume? Colossal gouts of flame, and all?"

"What mosquitoes is he talking about," General Reibisch muttered under his breath toward Verna and Warren beside him on his bench opposite Zedd and Adie.

"That's right," Verna said, ignoring the general. He sighed and folded his arms across his barrel chest. "A proper line of fire." Verna waited until Zedd swallowed. "Do you find something unsatisfactory about that, First Wizard?"

Zedd shrugged. "Well. ." He paused, then frowned. He leaned toward the general, peering more closely. Zedd wagged a bony finger at the man's folded arms.

"There's one now. A mosquito is about to suck your blood, General."

"What? Oh." He swatted it. "They've been thick this summer. I think the season for them is drawing to an end, though. We'll be happy to be rid of the little pests, I can tell you."

Zedd waggled his finger again. "And were they all like that one'?"

General Reibisch lifted his forearm and glanced down at the squashed bug. "Yes, the bloodthirsty little. ." His voice trailed off. He peered more closely. With a finger and thumb he gingerly lifted the tiny insect by a wing, holding it up to have a better look.

"Well I'll be. . this thing is"-his face lost a shade of color-"white." His grayish-green eyes turned up toward Zedd. "What was that you were saying about. .?"