“All right. If that’s what you want… ” And so we walked in the spring-scented evening, and he gave me what I’d asked for, reining in one passion only to unleash another. He told me of the Preceptors and his plans and the increasing dangers of his war. “… The Zhid raiders grow bolder every day. Two farms burned last week, another village destroyed the week before, half its people taken as slaves, half left in madness, and its children… Oh, Seri” - his voice shook and his fingers almost crushed my own - “I came very close to heeding Men’Thor and Ustele and their constant harangues.”

“They still call your strategy treason - the Circle, everything else?”

“Men’Thor is convinced that the only way to destroy the Zhid is to kill them all. The self-righteous bastard never changes his tone of voice and never changes his mind, no matter how you argue it. Ustele rails that we’ve lost our nerve, that I violate D’Arnath’s oath every day I permit such horrors to continue. And truly, last week when I saw those slaughtered children, I wanted nothing more than to ride for Zhev’Na myself, my sword in hand. But today we had such news. Jayereth has found an answer… ”

Our pace increased until I almost had to double-step to keep up with him. His face shone as he explained how, after so long a preparation, months of travel, long, grueling hours of intricate enchantment, meetings and argument, talking and convincing his hesitant subjects, his plan was ready to go forward. One might have thought his magnificent venture engaged already for the vigor with which he propelled me about the cherry orchard.

But as the last light faded in the west, his steps slowed again. He pulled me into his arms, pressing my head to his shoulder. The fine cambric of his shirt felt soft against my cheek and warm with the muscled flesh underneath, and I cursed duty and politics and everything else that conspired to keep us apart. “Ah, love,” he said, “you’ve let me babble far too long. The time runs… and we’ve not even spoken of Gerick yet.”

I closed my eyes, smothered my unhappiness, and yielded pleasurably to the hand that stroked my hair. “It wouldn’t break my heart if we had more time with you.”

“I’ve thought so much of him lately, wondering if the time was any closer… What do you think? Does it go any better with him? The nightmares? Earth and sky, how I want to be here with you. I scarcely know the boy. I don’t even know what he studies.” His arms threatened to squeeze the breath out of me.

“He still has nightmares, and he still won’t talk about them. But they seem less frequent of late, and less… disruptive… and in every other sense he grows easier,” I said, pulling away enough to keep breathing, as well as to keep my mind on our son. “He maintains a more even temper. He and Tennice get on famously, and the more intense their work, the better. You’ll be proud of all he’s accomplished. He can discuss history and philosophy, mathematics, astronomy, and politics at a level worthy of Martin’s drawing rooms. In only one area does he lag a bit… ”

“Surely it could not be the discipline Leirans call natural science?” Karon stooped until his face was on a level with mine, his blue eyes wide and teasing. “All those ‘nasty plant names and vile animal parts when one should only care about beauty and usefulness’?”

I slapped him - not hard - and shoved his face away. “All right. So natural science was never my strength. And, the bright muses bless him, Tennice knows even less than I, so we’ve eased up on Gerick for now. But in everything else Gerick excels. More important” - I dropped my voice a bit and pulled him farther along the path, letting foolery carry us into more serious realms - “he speaks freely of his childhood at Comigor and so many things we thought he might never acknowledge. And a few times - not many yet - he’s made a passing reference to his life in Zhev’Na. Just as you hoped he would.”

“But as to sorcery… ”

“He still won’t discuss it, and I’ve seen no evidence he’s tried to work any enchantment.”

Karon stopped again, leaning his back against the brick wall of the kitchen garden, shaking his head in puzzled disbelief. “He seems to think he can give it up. Does he have any idea…? He’s sixteen; he’ll be coming into his primary talent any time now, which will make abstaining infinitely more difficult… ”

“… just like all the other tricks nature plays between twelve and eighteen,” I said.

He smiled ruefully. “Life can seem quite a jumble in the middle of it.”

“You won’t believe how he’s grown. He’s almost as tall as Ka - you… were. Before.” I almost bit my tongue. Everlasting curses, you stupid woman…

“You mean the real me.”

There it was… the false note that would sneak its way into the harmonies of our time together. Why could I not reconcile myself to his change? In everything of importance, this was the man I had married. I couldn’t blame him for the traces of sadness and bitterness that lingered long after his words had been spoken. Yet this very response embodied the subtle differences that still bothered me. The sadness was Karon. The bitterness, never.

I tried to shake it off. How could I regret anything? He was with me. “The first you,” I said, unable to look him in the eye.

Gently, he took my hand, kissed it, and pressed it to his brow, a gesture of affection that had its origin, not in the magical world of the Dar’Nethi, but here in courtly Valleor, the country of his youth in the human world. We turned and walked back toward the house, letting comfortable familiarity soothe the awkwardness. The disturbance was not gone, though. How could we ever explore these things when we never had time? Each visit was the same. No sooner had we reintroduced ourselves to each other and laid bare the questions that needed to be answered than it came time for him to go.

“Forgive me, Seri. Soon… I promise… ” Karon had never used his power to read my thoughts uninvited. But then, he had rarely needed to. I seemed to be incapable of hiding what I felt.

Despite my unhappiness, I could not send Karon back to Avonar burdened with my resentments. I took his hand, kissed it, and pressed it to my own brow, trying to absorb the feel of him… the smell of him… the truth of him. Then I nodded toward the kitchen door. “You’ll see Gerick before you go?” Concern for our son was one matter on which our opinions did not diverge.

“If he’s willing. I suppose he’ll be no easier with me.”

“It’s true you’re not his first topic of conversation, and yet, just yesterday he asked when it was you’d studied here at Verdillon.”

“He says so little when we’re together. I can’t tell what he’s feeling. I don’t want to push, but with the Circle complete, Marcus and the others in place in Zhev’Na, and now, Jayereth’s news… I’m giving her a fortnight to refine her working, and then I’ll send out scouts for the last reports from the borders. It’s one reason I wanted to come tonight. Once we close the Circle, I won’t be able to leave until we see how the Lords respond. If anything should happen to me… I’ve so much to tell him, things I’ve learned about this strange world he’s destined to govern. We need to move forward. If only he’d talk to me, give me a sign that he’s ready to listen.”

“Don’t fret. He’s reserved with all of us, not only you. He just needs more time with you - to learn how different you are from what the Lords taught him. Trust comes only with time and experience.”

Karon had given Gerick back his human eyes and restored to our son his mortal life, doing his best to heal the wounds of a childhood lived in fear, loneliness, cruelty, and murder. But even Karon’s blessed magic could not undo Gerick’s greatest injury. As a child, living in my brother’s house, Gerick had isolated himself because he could do things our world called “vile sorcery.” And when the Lords had stolen him away to Zhev’Na, they had fostered and nurtured his belief in his own evil, linking it with destiny and power and inevitability. By the time Gerick understood how they had deceived him, he had become so steeped in their hatred and suspicion he scarcely knew how to live in any other way. And the Lords’ first, last, and most enduring lesson had been mistrust of his father.