I turned around just enough to glare at him. "You know full well it was a mouse, so stop smirking. I never said my elf sense was very highly attuned. I just said it's there, and it warns me about things."

"Not always Otherworld things, though," Jake pointed out gently.

I let that go, partly because he was doing me a favor in agreeing to monitor me while I scryed, but mostly because he was right.

"Tell me again why we're doing this at Butterfly World?" Jake asked as I paid our entrance fee (Diviners take a vow of poverty not to purify their souls, but to keep them from being tempted to divine locations of material goods that could make them impossibly wealthy). He looked with interest at the brochure that was given to us with our admittance tickets. "Will we have time to see the poison arrow frogs and the royal python?"

"If you're good, yes. And we're here because this is the sunniest, warmest place in Edinburgh, thanks to their industrial-strength sunlamps. I think the jungle area is going to be our best bet," I said, consulting the giant map posted at the entrance. "Hopefully we can find a quiet, out-of-the-way corner where no one will bother us."

Jake followed docilely as we entered what looked like a huge, outsized greenhouse, happily perusing the informational pamphlet. "Did you know that the life span of your average butterfly is only a fortnight? There is one type, a zebra butterfly, that can live ten months, though."

"Fascinating." I paused for a moment to get my bearings, a little thrown by the mass of color flitting around. There must have been two or three hundred different types of butterflies—some brightly colored, others in camouflage, and all of them swooping around in a never-ending palette of color. The air was thick and humid, heavy with the scent of damp earth and sickly sweet flowers. I started sweating almost immediately. "Look, behind that clump of palmish whatever, next to the big machine. That looks like no one goes there."

"Probably because it's off the pathway," Jake remarked as I leaped over the low barrier intended to keep people out of the tropical foliage.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm not going to do any damage. I just want a little privacy."

Luckily the group of kids in school uniforms that had arrived before us sucked up the attention of the Butterfly World attendants, leaving us able to slip behind a dense clump of palms in a corner of the building. I pulled a lap blanket out of my backpack and spread it out on the moist earth, glancing up for a moment at a sunlamp that beamed its rays down on us. It wouldn't have done as a substitute on its own, but since it was sunny outside, the combination of artificial and real sunlight was enough to power my elf cells.

"Right. If you'll sit there… mind the butterfly… I'll sit across from you, and I think we should both be hidden from view by anyone on the path." I gestured to a spot. Jake obediently sat down cross-legged on the blanket, looking expectant.

I settled myself in a pool of sunlight, pulling a soft leather bag from the backpack, carefully removing from it both my black mirror bowl and a small flask of water. I held the bowl up so it shared the sunlight with me, closing my eyes as I allowed the sun to soak into my being, merging with my essence, becoming something new, a bright, shining light of everything that I was. Concentrating fiercely, I poured the light into the black abyss of the waiting receptacle.

What in god's name are you doing? a startled, somewhat panicked voice asked.

Paen?

What are you doing to me? Stop it! Stop filling me with that blasted light!

I'm not filling you with light. I'm charging a scrying bowl.

You may think that's what you're doing, but you're damn near blinding me.

Don't be ridiculous. How can charging a bowl spill over onto… hey! You're talking to me!

There was a long pause before Paen sighed resignedly into my head. Where are you?

Butterfly World. Why?

I'll be there as quickly as I can.

You're welcome to watch, of course, but there's no need for you to be here. I've brought my Diviner friend Jake along to keep me from sucking all the tourists into another dimension.

Paen sighed again.

That was a joke. Seriously, there's no need—

I'll be there. Don't scry without me.

Paen's presence withdrew from my mind, leaving me with the feeling of loss. "Well, crap."

"Eh?" Jake asked, still looking expectantly at me.

"One of my clients wants to watch the scrying," I said, setting the bowl on my lap.

"Why didn't you say that before you dragged me in here?" Jake got to his feet. "How long will this client be? Will I have time to take in the scorpions?"

"I don't know where he is. Hang on, I'll ask." I reached out with my mind, holding an image of Paen, bringing up all the confused morass of feelings I had about him. Where are you?

On the way. I should be there in about ten minutes.

"Go look at the scorpions," I told Jake. "Come back in about fifteen minutes."

"Erm… Sam? I didn't see a mobile phone there." Jake looked a bit perplexed.

"Oh… well… this client just happens to be telepathic," I said, trying to avoid specifics.

"Righto." He toddled off without any further questions. That's one of the things I liked about Jake—he didn't sweat the little stuff.

I debated just going ahead and doing the scrying without waiting as ordered by Paen—after all, I am a take-charge sort of person, and he was paying me to do a job—but in the end I justified a wait as something that would be courteous and professional. Not to mention the good five minutes I spent flat on my belly hiding from the group of Scottish horticulturists who were grouped just on the other side of the clump of palms that screened me from the walkway, examining the leaves with a closeness that almost led to my discovery.

Where are you?

Butterfly house, off to the left of the entrance, north corner, hidden behind a sturdy clump of palms.

Could you have chosen a brighter spot? I don't think this sunlight is quite enough to fry me to a crisp.

I didn't know you were coming to the party. There's a shady spot just behind me, covered by an energy curtain and hidden behind a big misting pump, if you want to risk that. I have to stay in the sun. It powers me.

The palms in front of me rustled as a black shadow streaked into the corner made dark by an overhead curtain, and a lurking machine that churga-churgaed away quietly to itself.

What are you doing?

I smiled at the peevish note in Paen's voice. Poor man, all this sunlight had to be uncomfortable for him.

Listening to the butterflies argue.

A meaningful pause filled my head. Butterflies argue?

Oh yeah. They're really actually quite cantankerous for such pretty things. Always getting into fights with each other.

I see. Is this an elf trait, or have you just lost your wits?

I gave him a mental eye roll. Look, I don't pick on you because of the way you were born, OK? So don't give me any grief about being able to understand butterfly. And while we're on the subject of different—what made you change your mind about doing the mental thing with me?

A sigh emerged from over my shoulder, in the vicinity of the misting machine. I smiled straight ahead at a couple of startlingly blue mortho butterflies that were flitting around taunting each other.

"Are you going to try scrying now?"

"As soon as Jake gets back from looking at creepy-crawlies. Are you going to avoid answering my question?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't wish to answer it. How long will the scrying take?"

"Probably not too long. Why are you so adamant about avoiding the fact that we can mind-talk?"