"I'd love to see the bookshelf that came out of," Kall said by way of greeting.
The wizard did not immediately answer. When he did, he lifted only his eyes from the tome. They were as clear and as blue as Kall's, with a matching sheen of barely concealed hostility.
"I'm sure it would astound you. One actually has to read books on a regular basis to appreciate that knowledge comes in many forms."
Kall ignored the insult. "Surely you can agree inscribing a tome that's impossible to lift borders on the absurd?"
"Whatever you say, Lord Morel. In fact, I was just about to gather my absurd bits of lore and be gone from your house."
Kall leaned against the doorframe. "I don't recall asking you to leave. Could be my mind is slipping. We Morels are famous for our scattered wits, you know."
"As it happens, I do," Dantane said. "No, you haven't asked me to leave, but judging from the fact that you've avoided my requests for an audience since you came here, I'm assuming my eviction cannot be far off."
Kall shrugged. "You may be right. Earlier today, I was going to throw you out without a conversation, but I changed my mind."
"What brought about that bit of charity?"
"I have questions about my father."
Dantane gathered his robes about him, perching on the edge of the table. "Ask."
"When did you come to him?"
"Deepwinter. I was traveling through the city and ran into a bit of trouble."
"What kind of trouble?"
Dantane looked irritated. "The kind that comes when ignorance is allowed too free a rein."
Kall smirked. "Amnians are quite vocal about their wizard-hatred, aren't they?" he said.
"Your father was able to intervene on my behalf, although why he took the trouble—"
"Is the mystery I'm most concerned with," Kall interrupted. "My father hated magic more actively than most."
"So he took great pains to explain to me. Yet, he claimed a greater need drove him to hire me. He suspected someone close was using magic against him. He wished me to find the source."
Now Kall listened intently. "Did you?"
Dantane pushed away from the table. He strode to a locked cupboard in the corner and murmured something. A door creaked open, and Dantane reached inside, withdrawing an object that was unfamiliar to Kall: an ornate silver brooch set with a square, thumb-sized amethyst. "I removed this from your father's person, though its magic was already drained to nothing."
"What is it?"
"Exactly what it appears, but your father's blood is on the pin. That blood bore traces of a subtle mind-altering magic. I've seen similar pieces before. The spells make a person extremely susceptible to suggestion, but only from those they trust—friends or family. For instance, if the lady of the house doesn't approve of the way her husband is using the family finances, instead of throwing a fuss, she can use this to influence him in new directions."
"But the lord would be unaffected in business dealings with enemies and rivals?" Kall asked.
"Precisely. Tailored to fit any Amnian merchant, wouldn't you say?"
"Indeed." So that was it, Kall thought. Magic had tainted his father's blood. "How did my father discover the spells affecting him?"
"He may have noticed when one or both elements of the enchantment began to break down," Dantane said, "the spells . . . and his own mind."
Kall nodded. It made sense. Over time, the enchantment had slowly destroyed his father's sanity. He'd seen it that night in the garden. "When my father hired you, was he . . ."
"Lucid?" Dantane smiled sardonically. "He had stretches, long enough to keep his business scraping by. I could prolong some of them, with magic. Do you have any other inquiries, Lord Morel?" he asked impatiently, "or may I go?"
Kall considered the man. He knew what Cesira would say if she were here. Dantane was young, tidy with his speech and possessions, but with an unkempt air about his person. His dark hair was too long and shaggy, his eyes perpetually jumpy and fatigued. And he was hungry, Kall thought. He'd watched the wizard poring over his books. The man was too eager for magic to have come willingly to a land so bereft of it. Kall had no doubt there was more to his reason for being here, but whether it had anything to do with the Morel family was what he needed to know.
He knew what Cesira would say. Cesira would send Dantane away without hesitation.
"I want you to watch the party," Kall said, surprising them both.
Dantane raised an eyebrow. "Watch it for what?"
Kall had no idea. "I have no mercenaries, no guards employed to see to the security of the house. You can act in that capacity."
Dantane hesitated. "Lord Morel, you claim a powerful druid as your companion—"
"Yes, but she's fairly intractable . . ."
"—so I fail to see what added benefit I can be."
"You're saying you don't want to continue to receive the impressive mound of coin my father paid?"
"I've seen your guest list, Lord Morel. It more resembles a creditor account. How long will you be able to retain my services once this evening's festivities are concluded?"
Kall had no notion of that either. "Start with the party. We'll go from there." On the heels of one problem settled, another occurred to Kall. He took out his mother's pouch, held the strings, then tossed the pouch to Dantane.
The wizard caught it, a puzzled frown crossing his face. "What's this?"
"A task for after the party," Kall said. "Search its contents for any dangerous magic." He still didn't completely trust Meisha.
"And if I find some?" Dantane asked.
Kall paused at the top of the stairs. "Destroy it."
* * * * *
Later, Kall sat at his father's desk, his arms folded behind his head as he listened to the muffled sounds of the party going on outside the study. He was still sitting when the door opened, and Lord Marstil Greve stepped inside.
Lord Greve was a handsome man just entering middle years, but his muscles had begun to soften. He wore a jeweled knife at his belt, inset with two gems—one a ruby in a nest of gold, the other a glimmering emerald.