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her book shut with a retort that sounded like a gunshot. Khalil’s eyes flew open and then he frowned at her. “Some of us have places to be and things to do.”
    Jason didn’t know much about Isabella except for her European background and residence and that she was a businesswoman, he’d heard, of some wealth. She’d taken advantage of her knowledge of the centuries to become rich, which was in a way using her Magick and in a way not. Most of the Elders had an unspoken creed not to use Magick publicly or for ill-gotten gain. There were those who vowed it couldn’t be done anyway. It seemed to backfire, and horribly, rather like the Curse of Arkady. A shiver whispered down the back of Jason’s neck at the thought of that one!
    Arkady had been a Magicker back in the times when Gregory the Gray and Antoine Brennard were elder and student, and all the Magickers were truly young, sometime around the time of Elizabeth I, although Jason wasn’t really sure of the year. Renaissance, that much he knew. The Magickers didn’t like to talk about the terrible war between Gregory and Brennard which had killed many and sent the survivors hurtling through time and space. The war was why Gavan and the others today refused to face off with the Dark Hand, in hopes of avoiding another tragedy. Arkady, they did talk about, though. Arkady had been a rather talented but hapless Magicker who couldn’t control what he did. Everything had backfired or exploded in his face, but mostly because he hadn’t the confidence or discipline to learn what he was doing.
    They’d all been warned about the terrible Curse, one that only practice, practice, practice, and confidence seemed to be able to avert!
    â€œFirst thing, then. Eleanora is not here because she has been ailing a bit, and she is feeling quite drained working with young Jennifer Logan. Jennifer’s shroud of corruption not only leeches the Magick out of her, but out of anyone near her. As I understand what Eleanora and Gavan have told me, it would be easier to purge the nastiness all at once, but that might damage Jennifer for life. So, at the moment, the going is slow and difficult for everyone.”
    There was a murmur of sympathy about the table for Eleanora. Jason joined in, but he worried about Jennifer, too. Poor Jenny. He put his empty cider glass down on the gleaming wood table.
    At the sound of its thump on the wood, all heads turned to him quickly, eager for a distraction, and it was like a trap snapping shut on its victim! Jason sat back with a momentary feeling of worry over having attracted their attention. It didn’t help that Allenby immediately said, “How about a report on Gating, Jason? How goes your training, and how close are you to stabilizing the Iron Gate?”
    Aunt Freyah jabbed a pointy knitting needle skyward. “That’s it, put the lad on the spit, first thing, and pump up the coals.” She let out an unladylike snort and threw herself back in her chair, staring a challenge at Allenby with her bright blue eyes.
    Khalil composed his robes a moment, then said, “Has to be done, Freyah. There are things we have to know.”
    Another snort, one that pffuffed her frothy bangs off her forehead. “Much more is kept secret than shared around here.” Freyah wrapped up her knitting briskly and stowed it away in her carpetbag. “All right, then, Jason. Looks like you’re going to roast till you talk. Anything you can tell us?”
    Her kinder words barely took the edge off the question as everyone kept watching him. He shrugged. “I’m doing my best, but . . . it’s not so much my finding a Gate as the Gate finding me . . . I think.” His face warmed with embarrassment over his uncertainty. He had no one to train him, the only Magicker in this time who’d had the ability, Fizziwig, had died mysteriously before he could help Jason at all.
    â€œIs that how it