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me, she had said. It wasn't a demand. It wasn't coercion. It wasn't a threat. True, Nerillia had touched her mind without her consent, but if the Lamiad was also a slave to the call of blood, Tionne could understand. That wasn't just something you blurted out to a stranger. Not without having some assurances.
    “You've been watching me,” Tionne said with sudden clarity.
    “ Yes. For some time. We had to be sure before we approached you.”
    Nerillia flipped up the hood of her cloak. Not, however, before Tionne noticed some of the other patrons staring in their direction. People were strange. Men were here cheating on their wives. Wives were here making extra crowns on their backs. But expose something beyond the fringe of those acceptable debaucheries and people got uncomfortable.
    Aluka appeared before them as if summoned. Her grey eyes were troubled and Tionne saw something in her face she hadn't seen before. Fear.
    “ You need to leave,” the barmaid said to Nerillia. “Now. It isn't safe for you here.”
    “ I was just going,” Nerillia said, getting to her feet. She turned toward Tionne, her eyes faint glimmers of crimson under the drawn hood. “You're like us. I just want to talk. Think about it.”
    Before Tionne could react, Nerillia took her hand and clasped it. The young mage felt something cold on her palm and instinctively closed her hand around it. Then the Lamiad was gone, weaving through the crowd and disappearing through the hanging doors. Behind her, Aluka let out an exaggerated sigh.
    “Thank goodness,” she said. “I thought we were going to have real trouble. Another mead?”
    “ No thank you,” Tionne said absently, still looking out over the crowd.
    “ Suit yourself,” Aluka huffed, stalking off down the bar.
    That she might have permanently damaged her relationship with the barmaid never crossed Tionne's mind. Her attention was drawn to the cold, hard object in her palm. She unfolded her fingers and looked at it. It was a pebble, but a pebble unlike any she had ever seen. It was black, so black that it seemed to drink in all the light and heat around it. She wasn't sure why, but she felt as if she needed to protect it. As if it had suddenly become her utmost responsibility to protect this little stone.
    Pushing a coin across the counter, Tionne left the Turgid Eel and wandered out into the street. With the din of the crowd now at her back, the night seemed more serene and still. There were a few hangabouts outside, but no one hassled her as she descended the wide steps.
    Now that her head was clear, she wondered what she was supposed to do with the stone Nerillia had given her. She cradled it in her open hands, staring at it, trying to puzzle out its meaning. The effects of the mead were starting to wear off, so she slipped into the Quintessential Sphere, hoping that sphere sight would help unlock the mystery that had presented to her. The stone, in the timelessness of the sphere, was no different than the physical manifestation she held. It was small and completely black. It was the only object that Tionne had ever seen that didn't have a memory or an echo of its past.
    This was a test. She was sure of it. It was a test that would tell Nerillia and her mysterious group if she had the skills to join them. It was a puzzle. Tionne loved puzzles. It was one of the only aspects of being a student in the Academy that really appealed to her. There was no better feeling than finally figuring out the last piece of a riddle that was a particularly difficult spell or ritual.
    So then, all that remained was for her to figure out the riddle. To do that, she'd need somewhere to sit and think. Going back to the inn was out of the question. Faxon would no doubt be there. The last thing she needed while trying to figure this out was Faxon standing over her shoulder with his jokes. Or worse, his sermons.
    Glancing around she saw the little alley that ran between the Eel and the buildings on the other