"It was a spell. A piece of death sewn into his cloak. It was dormant, waiting, until he touched the great tree."

"Why did the tree set the spell off?"

She thought about that for a moment, rolling it round in the remembered light. "Its power was death. It had to wait for something dead to come along."

"And the great tree was dead, killed by lightning."

"Yes," she said softly.

"Would a dead body have triggered the spell?" he asked.

"Yes."

"The spell animated the dead with a terrible purpose. What was that purpose, Elaine?"

"It wanted Pegin dead."

"It?"

"The maker of the spell wanted him dead."

"Why?"

Her hand closed over the piece of bone. "The spell's creator didn't want Pegin to bring help. He, or she, fears Jonathan, fears the mage-finder."

"How do you know that?"

"The bone reeks of fear."

"Could that not be the fear of the hand from which the bone came?"

Elaine nodded. "It could be that, but the maker of the spell is afraid also."

"Is it only the mage-finder that the spell's caster fears?"

"No."

"What else?"

"Death, he fears death." She squeezed the shard of bone until the edges bit into her skin. The bones in her hand trembled in sympathy with the thing she held. The pain was sharp and final, the injury so great that the body deadened the nerves. It was not her own pain she was remembering. The finger had been severed while the woman still lived. There had been many spells, many bones, much blood.

Fingers curled around her hand. "Let go, Elaine." Gersalius tried to open her hand. "Let go."

"I cannot."

"Tereza help me."

Tereza did not ask questions. She just knelt, flinging her gloves to the snow, helping to pry Elaine's fingers apart. One finger at a time, they opened her hand.

Gersalius turned her hand palm down, spilling the bone to the snow. Blood welled in a small cut where the bone had bitten into her skin.

Tears trailed down Elaine's face. She wasn't sure why she was crying. "What happened?"

"Your magic feeds on light, heat. Other magic feeds on other things," Gersalius said.

"What other things?"

The wizard held her hand up to the dim starlight. He smeared his thumb through the darkness on her palm. "Blood, Elaine. It feeds on blood."

«^»

SEVEN

Jonathan sat at his desk, arms crossed over his chest. He could feel his face set in a scowl, but didn't care. If anything was worth scowling about, it was this.

Tereza stood against the far wall. Her arms were also crossed, tucked tight against her stomach, angry. Her long, dark hair gleamed like fur in the lamplight. The rich colors of her clothing glowed with reflected radiance. The strong planes of her face were set in high relief by the light and shadows. The sight of her made his body ache, but what she asked was impossible.

"No, Tereza, I cannot condone it." His voice sounded firm and reasonable. He was right, and she would see that.

"You did not see Elaine in the shed tonight, Jonathan. Now that she knows she is a mage, her magic is coming out stronger, faster. If Gersalius had not been there, she might have been sucked to death's door again."

"From what you tell me, if the wizard had not urged it, she would not have tried this. . magic."

"No, but the next vision would have endangered her. At least now she knows how to control the magic, a little." She pushed away from the wall and began to pace the small room. Her energy seemed to fill the room, making it shrink and pale compared to her. She was so very alive, all nerve endings and emotion, all physical. Jonathan was aware that she balanced him, his careful calculation to her impetu-ousness, his thinking to her heart, his age to her youth. Even as he argued, part of him wanted to say yes just because it was her. But no, not this time. He would, by the gods, stand his ground.

"Before tonight, I would have agreed with you." She stopped in front of him, hands on hips. "Gersal-ius must accompany us to Cortton."

He shook his head. "No." One simple word; why couldn't she understand it.

Tereza paced away from him, stalking the room as though it were a cage. "Then Elaine must remain behind, with the wizard."

"No."

She whirled. "Why not?"

"I do not trust the wizard here at our home with us away. He could bewitch the entire household, including Elaine, before we return."

"Do you really believe that?" She was standing in front of him again, dark eyes gentle and searching. The anger was seeping out of her. Tereza could never stay angry long, at least not at him. Frankly, this new reasonableness was more dangerous. As long as she ranted and raved, he could simply fight. But how to argue with reason?

He looked away from those searching eyes. It was a bad sign that he could not meet her gaze. He was losing, and not sure why. "Surely you see that we cannot take a wizard along on our work. I am the mage-finder. I cannot cart a mage along to aid me."

"He won't be there to aid you, Jonathan. He will be there to see that Elaine does not inadvertently kill herself."

"It can't be that serious. She has gone on all these years."

Tereza shook her head, dark hair sliding along her shoulders. "I told you what happened tonight. She was like a stranger, Jonathan." Her face when she turned to him showed something he had not expected. . fear.

He reached out for her without thinking, touching her arm. "Are you truly afraid of our little Elaine?"

She cupped her hand over his, pressing gently. "She would never harm us on purpose-I know that. Before tonight I was only worried for her safety, but now …" She knelt at his feet, hands encircling his hand. She gazed up at him. "She is going to be a powerful mage, Jonathan. We cannot change that."

He opened his mouth to argue, but her fingertips touched his lips and the protest died, unspoken.

"We cannot change it, Jonathan. After what I saw tonight, I know that for a certainty. All we can do is train her to be a power for good and see she does no harm to herself or anyone else by accident."

He pulled her hand away from his mouth. "There is no such thing as good magic. It is all evil."

"Then Elaine is evil," she said softly. "But you don't believe that. We've raised the girl for eight years. You know her heart is kind and gentle. You know that."

Jonathan stood, pulling away from her hands, the smell of her skin. He would not be persuaded by beauty to override his common sense. He walked to the window, staring down into the cold courtyard.

There was a gleam of firelight in the wizard's cottage. He smashed his fist into the wall beside the glass. "Magic corrupts all it touches. I have seen proof of that, again and again."

He felt her approach behind him. He did not need eyes to sense her movements. He could sense her like some great irresistible force. Love and passion can be as strong as any star.

Her strong hands touched his shoulders, her body pressing against his back. "We cannot change what has happened to Elaine. All we can do is protect her as best we can, as any parents would."

He leaned his forehead against the icy glass. A wizard was sleeping just below, behind stout walls that Jonathan had built. A mage inside his defenses. It was outrageous.

"Leave Elaine here in Gersalius's care, or bring them both with us. Those are our choices, my love." Her voice was soft and warm against his neck.

He straightened. Her arms encircled his waist, and he pressed his hands over hers. "They will come with us." Her arms tightened against him, snuggling closer. Why was that small movement worth losing a dozen fights?

"Perhaps we might have the wizard look at Elaine."