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Eye
would go a long way to fulfilling that desire. Even the Grand Master would be
sorely tempted by it, perhaps even more so, since his desire for power only
seemed to get stronger as his power accumulated. She had even seen the greed in
the Grand Master’s eyes whenever she rediscovered a forgotten spell and told him
about it. But what about Commander Garret? He wasn’t a wizard; he wouldn’t be
tempted by a nexus point. He wouldn’t even understand what it was. But he could
tell someone who would be tempted.
    When she looked back at the Commander, he was watching her
closely, waiting patiently for her to say something. “Angus found something,”
she said at last. “I cannot tell you what it is—I will not tell you what
it is. But I can tell you this much: it is potentially far more dangerous than
the fishmen.”
    Commander Garret’s eyes widened at her proclamation, but he
said nothing for several seconds. When he spoke, his voice was strained and did
not carry far beyond her ears. “I know of your reputation, Embril,” he said. “I
know you would not say such a thing lightly. I also know what the fishmen are
capable of doing. It is difficult for me to reconcile the two. Help me to do
so.”
    She frowned again. What could she tell him that wouldn’t
tell him too much? She nodded slowly and asked, “Do you know much of the
history of this region, about the Dwarf Wars?”
    “More than most,” Commander Garret said. “I believe it is
important for the Commander of a garrison to know as much as possible about
those things that may impact his decisions. The history of the conflicts in an
area is one of those things. The dwarves have very long lives and even longer
memories.”
    “Good,” she said. “Then you know how they ended, how the
volcanism drove the Dwarves away.”
    “Some say they caused it,” Commander Garret said.
    A sad smile fell upon her face as she shook her head and
said, her voice almost a whisper, “They didn’t.”
    He waited for her to say more, but before she could—if she
was going to at all—there was a tap on the door and Lieutenant Jarhad called
out, “Commander?”
    Commander Garret stared at Embril for a long moment before
he set his palms on the table and pushed himself upward. He lingered for a few
more seconds, and then shook his head and moved quickly to the door. He
unlocked and opened it.
    Lieutenant Jarhad had a variety of caps, hats, and other
headgear in his arms, and Commander Garret stepped aside to let him enter.
    Commander Garret smiled as he joined them at the table and
said, “Let’s see which one looks best, shall we? Then we’ll see about a
uniform.”

Separation Anxiety
    1
    Hobart looked toward the setting sun and shook his head. It
had been two days since Giorge had walked into that tomb and it had disappeared,
and there was still no sign of Angus. Ortis had kept watch from the lift every
day, but there was nothing, not even a whisper of thunder or a glint of
Lamplight. He and another Ortis had climbed as high as they dared up the
mountainside on which Giorge had disappeared, and even from that vantage point
they had seen nothing, not even a small patch of blackness on the white,
glacial landscape below them. Then they had spent a day and a half climbing
down the mountain and up the next one without anything to show for it but
aching muscles and hungry bellies.
    “We have to go back,” Ortis said as he sat down beside Hobart.
“If we go any further, we’ll run out of supplies on the way back to Dagremon’s,
and you saw how sparse that plateau was. Even if we left now, the grain for the
horses will likely run out before we make it across.”
    Hobart nodded without turning. What Ortis said was
reasonable, but a part of him, the part that had duty drilled into him over and
over again in his training, the part of him that never let a comrade
down, was pulling him further and further away from the lift. He set his jaw,
straightened his back, and said