"How come I'm here?" Julia shrugged again. "There was another merchantman setting sail the next day for Crescent. No other vessel I'd ever consider crewing on was leaving for a week, so I didn't have much choice. I came to Crescent."

Teldin snorted. "So I'm supposed to accept it's just coincidence that you're here? And that you were asking around about me?"

"Coincidence?" Julia bared her teeth in an expression that was more snarl than smile. "I don't think the word has any meaning around you, Teldin Moore," she stated. "I think you make coincidences, because of what's happened to you, and what and who you are. I'm sorry if I'm saying things that you don't want spoken aloud"-she looked meaningfully at Djan-"but I've got to say them. I can't not say them any longer.

"I think you warp the laws of probability, Teldin," she went on, warming to her theme. "You and… what it is that makes you who you are. Think back on all the 'coincidences'-happy and sad-that have happened to you and around you. Do you honestly believe they were caused by pure luck? You'd have to be stupid… and you're not stupid.

"The universe is huge, Teldin Moore, more vast than any of us can imagine. Yet you've kept 'coincidentally' meeting people who've channeled your destiny in new ways, focused them toward a goal. How probable is that, going on chance alone? I know it sounds ridiculous-even I don't believe it all the time-but your destiny might be so strong that it overwhelms the normal laws of chance."

She paused, and Teldin watched as she controlled herself. "So, Teldin," she concluded, "in answer to your question: Yes, it's just purest coincidence that I'm here… for whatever little that word may be worth." With that she sat back in her chair and firmly crossed her arms before her chest.

Teldin was silent for three dozen heartbeats. He didn't know what to make of the woman's statements. Certainly, random events seemed to have conspired to force him along the course he now followed, events that almost seemed tailor-made to guarantee he'd act in a certain way.

But, in some sense, wasn't that a meaning of the word 'coincidence'? Several random events coming together to produce a certain result? Had one of those random events occurred differently, he'd probably have been channeled onto a totally different course. At the end of that course, however, he'd have looked back and remarked on how 'predetermined' his path had been….

For an instant, he wished Estriss were present. He'd know how to deal with this strange philosophy, Teldin told himself… or at least he'd enjoy discussing it, and probably at ridiculous length.

The Cloakmaster suppressed his smile and turned to his first mate. "Djan?"

The half-elf didn't answer right away. His gaze flickered back and forth between Teldin and Julia, and he seemed to be mumbling under his breath.

"An interesting philosophy… Teldin Moore," he said at last, stressing the name. "And one the Marrakites of Crescent would easily understand. The followers of the True Path believe there are some people they term 'verenthestae,' who weave the strands of fortune and destiny in different patterns by their very presence." He smiled mildly. "An interesting question, Aldyn Brewer-or Teldin Moore. Are you verentheslae?" He shrugged. "In any case, my captain, your old friend is speaking the truth as she knows it."

It took Teldin a moment to comprehend what his first mate had just said. Then, "What?"

"She did come to Crescent by chance, my friend," Djan confirmed. "As a Child of the Path, I have some skills in this matter. She was utterly surprised-and both saddened and elated-to find you on Crescent. Her presence here is coincidence"-he chuckled quietly-"for whatever that word is worth in the presence of verenthestae."

Teldin closed his eyes and forced his breathing into a more normal pattern. He realized his hands were clenched into fists and forced them to relax, laying them flat on the table before him. After a few moments, he opened his eyes again and raised his gaze to Julia. With an ultimate effort, he kept his tone light as he said, "It seems we have space in the crew for two more. Would you care to sail with us? We cast off tomorrow."

The individual who, here on Crescent, was known as Grampian watched the man before him shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. A scrawny, insignificant-looking example of his species, Grampian told himself. The man was less than average height, without much flesh on his bones, and had a face like a malnourished camp rat. Yet, here on Crescent, he was revered in certain circles as the most skilled at his specialized craft.

Grampian kept the face he'd assumed frozen into a hard expression, his cold gaze drilling into his ever-more-discomfited hireling. With every moment he could see the man's fear grow. He'd chosen his current appearance specifically based on what he'd guessed humans would find intimidating, and now Grampian was pleased that his insight had been correct.

He kept the man on tenterhooks for another few moments, then let his face relax into a half smile. "You have completed your task, I take it?" he asked.

The man nodded quickly and prodded with his toe a leather backpack that lay on the floor before him. "Right here, everything right here, like you asked."

Grampian nodded. "Good," he pronounced. "There were no… complications?"

The small man's confidence was obviously returning. He flashed a momentary smile, showing crooked and discolored teeth. "No worries," he said, "I'm good at what I do, I tell you that. Just in and out. Nobody saw me. Nobody knows I was even there, the city guard, the librarians that run the place, nobody. Just like I was a wraith." He paused for a moment, glancing down at the backpack at his feet. "These books," he went on slowly, "they're worth a lot?"

Grampian almost laughed out loud. This sneak thief may think he's sly and subtle, Grampian thought, but he's as transparent as a fine crystal goblet. He's considering holding out for more money. The thought of someone like this extorting money from one of Grampian's kind was almost hilarious.

Yet Grampian kept his face expressionless and amusement out of his voice. "Not as such," he said, and almost smiled as the thief's face fell. "They mean nothing to me."

"Then… ?"

"Why?" Grampian found himself enjoying this. Against all his expectations, he realized he enjoyed explaining his reasoning to this mere human. "Because they're valuable to someone else. Extremely valuable. Their only worth to me lies in the fact that, if I have them, this other can't have them. Do you understand?"

The thiefs disappointment was evident, but he nodded and forced a smile onto his face. "So I did a good job anyway," he suggested.

"Perhaps." Again Grampian was silent and watched the anxiety build on the other's face. "Perhaps you did a good job," he said slowly, "perhaps your efforts are worth a bonus. If you completed all of my instructions." He pointed to the backpack. "Did you get them all?"

"Sure I did, every last one on your list."

"Then, why, I wonder, did the… the subject make arrangements to set sail so soon after he'd visited the library?" Grampian mused. "It seems as if he found what he was looking for, doesn't it? But how could he, if what he was looking for is in the bag at your feet?" He leaned forward, watched with satisfaction as the thief cowered. "You did consider the possibility of multiple copies, I take it? Stealing one copy of a book is little use if there's another on the shelves. You did think of that, didn't you?"

"Sure I did," the thief protested in an aggrieved voice, "I'm not an idiot."