"Faegan," he said softly, almost reverently, as if he could not believe his eyes. "It must be! The recently departed Nicholas told me you had returned to Tammerland. Until then, I had thought you had passed from flesh and blood into myth. Your power and knowledge are legendary. But forgive me, for you and I have never been properly introduced. I am the consul Krassus. I was at one time both first alternate to the dearly departed Directorate of Wizards and the servant of Nicholas, son of the Chosen One. It is indeed an honor to finally meet you."

Krassus looked down at Tristan and smiled. "And the Chosen One himself is also in attendance." He then admired the sword Tristan still held. "He truly is as impulsive as they say, isn't he?"

Looking to Shailiha, he added, "We are honored by the presence of the princess, as well. How nice." His gaze flicked briefly over Geldon, then settled on Celeste.

"And who is it we have here?" he asked. "Had I ever met a woman as beautiful as this, I would surely have remembered."

Celeste did not respond, but her expression hardened almost imperceptibly.

"What do you want?" Wigg demanded again, purposely interrupting Krassus' disturbing examination of his daughter. "From what you say, I take it you are the new leader of the supposedly rebellious brotherhood?"

"Indeed I am," Krassus answered. "But as I said earlier, I am willing to put the recent hostilities behind us and start over. I will allow everyone in this room to live, and I have already ordered the consuls to remove the bounty on Tristan. I will even bring the remaining consuls back into the fold, so to speak. All I ask in return is unencumbered leadership of the consuls-and some information. If you refuse, you will make me your enemy for life. The Chosen One's son may be dead, but certain aspects of his cause are not. True, the number of consuls had been radically reduced, but it should be enough."

"Enough for what?" Faegan asked.

Krassus smiled. "You see," he went on, "I'm afraid the death of Nicholas and the destruction of the Gates are only the beginning of your problems. Unknown to you, the son of the Chosen One had already placed other plans into motion-plans designed to pave the way for the Heretics to ensure that the Vagaries will rule as the sole arm of the craft. With Nicholas gone, this sacred duty falls to me. I do not intend to release the Heretics from the heavens, as Nicholas tried to do. As you have no doubt discerned, I am fatally ill. Thus, I do not have the time for such endeavors, much less the training or quality of blood required. No-the Forestallments imbued into my blood by my late master are not all-powerful, as his were, but they provide me with ample skills to finish the more earthly aspects of his plan. All I need is the proper information. If you resist me, before you perish you shall learn there remain other methods of making sure the Vagaries solely rule the craft."

Krassus lowered his eyes and focused them menacingly on the lead wizard. "You can either be a willing partner in what I do, or you and your little group here will die. It is no more complicated than that."

"Surely you must realize that if your goal is to promulgate the Vagaries, I will never help you," Wigg answered adamantly. "Nor will Faegan. Every person in this room would gladly give his or her life to make sure the Vagaries never rule the land."

"I have no need to ask Faegan the first of my questions," Krassus responded calmly. "Only the second. Faegan may be the greatest keeper of knowledge, but you, Lead Wizard, are the greatest keeper of secrets, and always have been. I know you have the information I seek, because I now travel with a partial adept who is a blaze-gazer as well as an herbmistress. And she is never wrong."

Wigg suddenly appeared as if his entire world had just collapsed. But his look of defeat quickly turned to one of anger.

"If you have harmed her, I will kill you," he snarled. "Slowly."

Tristan had no idea who they were talking about, but Wigg was clearly incensed.

"Oh no, my friend," Krassus responded almost kindly. "It is not she with whom I travel, but another. I did, however, visit the home of the one you refer to, to collect a few things my partial adept shall eventually need. You might want to go and see your old friend after I depart. I left her in a rather bad way."

Krassus bent over slightly, placing his face closer to the lead wizard's. "Now then," he said softly. "For the first of my two questions: Where is Wulfgar?"

Wigg's face went completely white. His eyes widened briefly with amazement, then narrowed again in a poor attempt to disguise his shock. He then glanced at the questioning faces of Tristan and Shailiha, and his heart was heavy with the realization that he might be forced now to break yet another of his promises to their parents.

"I don't know who you're talking about," he answered adamantly.

"That's not good enough," Krassus whispered. His fist came around like lightning, smashing into the side of Wigg's face. Tristan had never seen such superhuman speed. The lead wizard reeled drunkenly for a moment, a trail of blood snaking its way down his chin, curlicuing into his blood signature as it went. Celeste cried out for her father, and tears welled in her eyes.

Slowly collecting himself, Wigg looked through half-closed eyes at the consul. Somehow, he smiled.

"Is that the best you can do?" he asked drunkenly. "Even the first mistress of the Coven struck me harder."

"As I told you, I'm ill," Krassus answered sarcastically. His fist came around again, smashing into the point of Wigg's chin and driving the wizard's head into the back of his chair.

"Stop it, you bastard!" Tristan screamed. He tried again to move his sword arm, but it was no good. Looking for a glimmer of hope, he turned his eyes to Faegan. But all the great wizard could do was shake his head back and forth angrily.

"And the two Scrolls of the Ancients," Krassus went on blithely. "I suppose you know nothing of them, either? Actually I need only find one. The other, the Scroll of the Vagaries, is already in my possession." A nasty grin spead slowly across his face.

"I have no idea what you're babbling about," Wigg answered thickly. "Perhaps all of your time with Nicholas has… addled your brain… So you now apparently detest the Vigors." Exhausted from his beating, he ran out of breath, and his chin slumped forward to his chest.

Krassus bent over Faegan. "And you, cripple," he said insultingly. "I suppose you also know nothing of either Wulfgar or the scrolls?"

Summoning up all of the saliva he could muster, Faegan spat it at the hem of Krassus' robe. "That is the only answer I shall ever have for you," he whispered venomously. "Go find whatever it is you're looking for by yourself! Assuming, of course, you're intelligent enough to do so."

Straightening, Krassus smiled. "The famous wizards, recalcitrant to the end!" His laugh turned into a single, short, diseased cough. "Very well, then. It seems I shall have to find out for myself whether the two of you are lying."

He closed his eyes, and a soft glow began to surround the wizards' chairs, slowly increasing in intensity. Suddenly Wigg's and Faegan's heads simultaneously snapped back. Their eyes were wide open, but seemed to observe nothing. Watching, Tristan realized that Krassus had succeeded in entering at least a portion of their minds-testing them just as they had once tested Geldon, before allowing Tristan to go to Parthalon to rescue Shailiha from the Coven. They desperately fought the intrusion by the consul. Sweat broke out on each of the three struggling faces as Wigg and Faegan fought to keep from having their minds violated, and Krassus tried desperately to enter. After several long, agonizing moments, the glow faded away, and the consul opened his eyes. Wigg and Faegan were breathing heavily in total exhaustion.