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and I could not tell what he was about. He was employing some power different from that which he had used minutes before, and I did not understand it. Something within me jerked spasmodically when he reached out and laid a hand upon Pol’s shoulder. Why, I did not know, but I moved nearer. I witnessed the entire conversation and the transformation of Pol’s appearance. When the man covered the dragon-mark I found myself wanting to cry out, “No!” But, of course, I had no voice. It irritated me considerably to see it done, though I knew that it remained intact beneath the spell—and I was aware that Pol could undo the spell whenever he chose. What this reaction told me about myself, I could not say.
    But then, when Pol rose and there was a brief and rapid exchange of forces between the men, I rushed to settle upon Pol and permeate his form, inspecting it for damage. I could discover nothing which seemed permanently debilitating to his kind, and since they generally render themselves unconscious during the night I made no effort to interfere with this state.
    Withdrawing, I then set out to locate the other man. I was not certain why, nor what I would do should I succeed in finding him. But he had departed quickly and there was no trace of him about, so the questions remained academic.
    That was when I came across the rabbits and terminated them, as well as the bush where they crouched. I felt immediately stronger. I puzzled over all my reactions and the more basic questions which lay behind them—wondering, too, whether I was really made for such a fruitless function as introspection.
     
    No one in the company, Ibal included, seemed to take note of Pol’s altered appearance. And none addressed him by name. It was as if each of them had forgotten it and was embarrassed to reveal the feet to the others. Eventually, those who spoke with him settled upon “Madwand” as a term of address, and Pol did not even get to use the other name he had ready. Conceding the possibility of its protective benefit, he was nevertheless irritated that his new identity had caused Ibal to forget whatever it was that he had intended telling him about Rondoval. Not knowing how strong the stranger’s memory-clouding spell might be, he was loath to associate himself with Rondoval in his companions’ minds by broaching the subject himself.
    It was two nights later, as they sat to dinner, that Ibal raised a matter almost as interesting.
    “So, Madwand, tell me of your plans,” he said, spooning something soft and mushy between what remained of his teeth. “What do you propose doing at the fest?”
    “Learning,” Pol replied. “I would like to meet some fellow practitioners, and I would like to become more proficient in the Art.”
    Ibal chuckled moistly.
    “Why don’t you just come out and say that you’re looking for a sponsor for initiation?” he asked.
    “Would I be eligible?” Pol inquired.
    “If a master would back you.”
    “What would the benefits be?”
    Ibal shook his head.
    “I find it hard to believe you are that naive. Where did you grow up?”
    “In a place where the question never arose.”
    “I suppose I can believe that if I try, since you are a Madwand. All right. I occasionally find ignorance very refreshing. Proper experience of the rituals involved in initiation will result in an ordering of your lights. This will allow you to handle greater quantities of the energy that moves through all things. It will permit you to grow in power, a thing which might not happen otherwise.”
    “Will initiations actually be conducted at Belken this time, during the course of the gathering?”
    “Yes. I plan on having Nupf initiated there—though Suhuy, I feel, is not ready.”
    He gestured toward the larger of his apprentices, the youth with dark eyes and pale hair. Suhuy frowned and looked away.
    “Once an apprentice has been initiated he is on his own, so to speak?” Pol asked.
    “Yes, though a man will occasionally