Sunlight reflected from the water below, creating rippling patterns across the white ceiling. From the circular shape of the chamber, she guessed they were in the tower. The floor was covered with blue tiles so shiny they glistened like water. A large war table dominated the room, with a perfect replica of the known world.
A single figure stood on the balcony, the slight breeze stirring his long black hair.
'I hoped we'd see the mage himself,' Fyn muttered. 'This is only his agent, Tyro. But he has renegade Affinity too, so watch out for him.'
Piro nodded, relaxing a little. Then she stiffened as the agent strode into the room. She had the strangest feeling she knew him. But she would have remembered this intense, thin, young man. From his narrow chin to his high forehead and black eyes, he was… Those eyes…
Fyn gave an abbreviated bow. 'Meet Isolt Merofyn Kingsdaughter and her maid, Seela. Turns out, Isolt knew nothing of the betrothal and did not want to marry Palatyne.'
Piro was aware of something unspoken passing between Agent Tyro and Fyn.
'So she is happy to take sanctuary on Ostron Isle,' Fyn finished. 'Where is Mage Tsulamyth?'
'Dealing with other, more important matters,' the agent said. 'I have been his voice for many years.'
Piro thought this must be an exaggeration for he looked no older than Lence. But then Lord Dunstany had been much older than he looked. Ah, that was it. The agent bore a strong family resemblance to the noble scholar and Dunstany did say his long life was a by-product of his Affinity.
Every now and than, as if his shielding was imperfect, she could feel a wash of Affinity roll off the agent. It reminded her of the way the air around Lord Dunstany used to hum with power. It made her dizzy.
She took a step back and Isolt steadied her, sending a look of query.
Too much Affinity, Piro mouthed.
When Tyro turned towards Isolt, Piro blended into the background as a maid should.
The agent gave Isolt a Merofynian bow as he spoke in her own language. His deep voice also struck Piro as familiar. 'You have come a long way, kingsdaughter. Welcome to Mage Isle.'
Piro watched as the kingsdaughter assumed what she thought of as Isolt's Merofynian court face.
'I thank Mage Tsulamyth for offering me sanctuary. In truth, I had little choice. Duke Palatyne will be furious when he learns where I am. I don't wish to be a burden to Ostron Isle.' Isolt looked down, then up, her mask slipping to reveal a flash of defiance. 'But I refused to stay and play Palatyne's game of Duelling Kingdoms.'
'In my capacity as his agent, I offer the mage's protection. You don't need to worry about Palatyne. He leads by fear, not example, and such men do not live long,' Agent Tyro said. Piro thought him slightly pompous. 'Palatyne will be furious but, while you are on Mage Isle, you are safe. However, you cannot hide forever. Have you thought what you will do?'
Fyn spoke quickly. 'Since Lence Kingsheir is dead, by the laws of Rolencia and Merofynia, Isolt is betrothed to Rolencia's uncrowned king, Byren.'
Agent Tyro fixed Fyn with gleaming dark eyes. Piro thought she saw a hint of laughter in their depths. 'At this moment Byren Kingsheir, or should I say the deposed king, is trying to unite your father's warlords, Fyn Rolen Kingson. So far, only two have offered their support. He needs the support of all five to stand a chance of retaking Rolencia.'
Piro hid her joy. This was the first real news she'd had of Byren.
Fyn's eyes narrowed. 'How — '
'Mage Tsulamyth has a very good spy network, Fyn. Now perhaps you would like to share another of your secrets?' When Tyro turned to Piro, she had the feeling he had been avoiding looking her way. 'Introduce me to your sister.'
Piro's heart skipped a beat and heat raced up her cheeks. She hated being caught in a lie. How had he guessed?
Fyn cleared his throat. Piro could tell he was quietly furious but he spoke courteously. 'Lord Tyro, this — '
'I am no lord,' the agent said, voice cold and cutting. 'My father did not acknowledge me. My mother sold me to the mage when I was five.'
Isolt took a step back as did Piro, scalded by his fury. Born the wrong side of the blanket — now she understood why the agent was so pompous. She'd seen the same response in those who felt disadvantaged in her father's court.
'I've met lords with less scholarship than you, Agent Tyro,' Fyn said.
Tyro's eyes widened, then he almost smiled. 'Your tongue is as fast as your sword. A valuable trait. Now, introduce your sister.'
Fyn cleared his throat. 'Agent Tyro, meet the sister I thought dead, Piro Rolen Kingsdaughter.'
The agent bowed then took a step back, looking at Piro. Waiting. Waiting… His obsidian eyes held hers, intense and quizzical. When she merely stared right back at him, a wry smile tugged at his lips. 'Don't you know your old master, Seelon?'
'Lord Dunstany!' Piro gasped. 'But… but you're young. The noble Power-worker was ninety even though he looked fifty.' She frowned. 'You must have used your Affinity to augment a player's disguise and — '
'No,' Isolt spoke up. 'Lord Dunstany has served the Merofynian royal family since my great-grandfather's time, so this agent can't be him.'
Tyro turned to her. 'You are right. Lord Dunstany died of natural causes, without any heirs. He was my master's trusted friend and agent. Dunstany arranged with the mage to keep his death a secret. Since I bore a strong resemblance, being born on the wrong side of the blanket on Dunstany's estate, I took his place so that Lord Dunstany could continue to serve the mage.'
'But I slept on the floor next to your bunk,' Piro objected. 'I rubbed lineament on your… on Lord Dunstany's swollen fingers.'
'You offered and I could not resist. So kind.' For a heartbeat his eyes twinkled as Lord Dunstany's used to and Piro felt a tug of recognition. Then he was the cold, pompous young man again. Maybe not as young as he appeared. 'A disguise is only as good as its detail, kingsdaughter. A maid servant would not have clean toes and fingers.'
'You knew it was me from the start!'
'Why do you think I was so quick to get you away from Palatyne? His Utland Power-worker is a dangerous man.'
'But you… when you were Lord Dunstany, you mocked the Utlander, made him out to be weaker than you,' Piro countered.
'I did,' Tyro conceded. He glanced to Fyn. 'What happens if two equally skilled swordsmen meet?'
'They don't battle unless they are forced to, because they know one or both will die.'
'What if one swordsman knows the other is more powerful?'
'He bluffs,' Fyn said, and his eyes widened. 'Sounds as if you were playing a dangerous game, Agent Tyro.'
'We play the game we must. Each of you knows that.'
They were all silent for a moment.
Then Piro had to ask, 'But why? Why play at all? Why did you accompany Palatyne when he invaded Rolencia? Why didn't the mage go? Is he too frail and old? Is he truly over two hundred years old?'
'The mage is a very great man and he does not discuss his plans with a slip of a girl,' Agent Tyro told her, turning to speak to Fyn.
Furious, Piro walked away, pretending to study the war table. She hated Agent Tyro, felt he'd made a fool of her. Her face burned, as she tried to recall everything that had passed between Tyro and herself, when he had been disguised as Lord Dunstany.
Believing him an old man she had treated him like a grandfather, but Dunstany had not treated her like a slave. He had been kind to her.
Only Tyro wasn't Dunstany. He was a cold, arrogant young man. Her mind raced.
At least she knew why Dunstany had pulled the bed curtain every night. The agent could not maintain his disguise while he slept. His Affinity must be powerful to maintain a disguise all day, even aided with the player's arts.
Fyn's voice reached her. '… met Dunstany in Marchand. So that's why he… you sent me to the Wyvern's
