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comforting arms of a willing woman. He could grant me much magic. Humiliating him would bring me a tiny bit of justice against both his fathers: the king and the dead Master Magician Jaylor.
    This one time I shall forsake pleasure for expedience. I shall hide in plain sight.
    But while I must hide, my minion can walk the city, listening and learning like any good spy. His scarred face and rope-thin body do not alarm the people. Many of them are underfed and scarred as well. He knows this city better than most. He serves me well.

    Lukan held out the folded and sealed parchment he’d carried almost the full length of the country. “Da sent this,” he stated firmly, keeping all his emotions pushed into a tight knot behind his heart. “With his dying breath he commanded me to deliver this to you. For
me
he had only criticism.”
    Not quite the truth, but close enough. Da had used his last breath to tell Mama he loved her.
    Glenndon, taller than Lukan by half a hand, broader in the shoulder and slimmer of hip as well, bit his lip and blinked back tears. His golden hair glinted in the sunlight streaming through a high window. He didn’t need a crown as symbol of his title and position. His life energy surrounded him with a shining aura that even mundane minds could see.
    “W . . . were you there?” Glenndon stammered. His throat worked as he swallowed heavily against a choke.
    Lukan wondered briefly if his brother had taken time to grieve for the loss of their parents, or if his emotions had been suppressed by the massive amount of work involved in rebuilding the city. This little room on the ground floor, designed for greeting visitors and nothing more, showed no evidence of the planning necessary to even begin the task.
    Lukan nodded, suddenly finding himself needing to banish tears. He hated revisiting those awful moments when Da’s heart gave out after trying to control the massive spell that broke Samlan’s control over the storm and unleashed its fury. Then as Da told Mama he loved her with his last breath (Lukan had left the room, but heard and saw much through the open doorway from the front yard) Mama had screamed and clutched her pregnant belly. Within minutes she had miscarried and bled to death. Linda said she’d smiled and held out her hand as if reaching for her husband.
    Lukan dropped the letter onto a decorative little table and turned his back on his brother. He almost wished he’d taken the time to summon Souska to collect the latest gossip at the University. Then he’d have something to talk about. He couldn’t talk about Mama, not even after the passage of nearly two moons.
    “I wanted to be there,” Glenndon said defensively. “I was halfway into the transport spell when Father—the king stopped me. He reminded me of my duty here. I had to save as many people as I could and that meant cutting off exits, communication, everything from outside the palace walls. I had no choice.”
    “There are always choices,” Lukan reminded him, getting a firm grip on his emotions. “You made the one that seemed right for you at that time.”
    “Right for the kingdom! Not right for me.”
    “I’m leaving. I have my journey. I’ll spend tonight on Sacred Isle and leave soon afterward.” Lukan aimed his steps toward the door, unable to see clearly through the film of tears covering his eyes.
    “Good Journey, little brother,” Glenndon said. “The island remains mostly intact. I checked. A few trees fell, mud and silt filled in the pit I was trapped in, the central pond is bigger than it was. But the magic ingrained in the island repulsed a lot of the magic in the storm surge.”
    “I’m glad to hear it. When I saw that so much had been destroyed, so many of the little islands washed away, I wondered if the sanctity of the place could continue to inspire us.”
    Lukan allowed a few moments of silence, almost comfortable with Glenndon in their shared concern for Sacred Isle.
    Then Glenndon lifted