"Clover and Laral are coming with their parents, tomorrow," Toff offered, though his voice trembled. It was difficult, after all, seeing Haldis and Sark again. His last memory of the two had been of them punching him in the face.

"Gren got to them, too, didn't he?" Sark blinked at Toff.

"Yes." Toff wasn't willing to offer more of an explanation.

"Don't make me sorry I've bent the rules for you," Lissa's voice was hard as she gazed at Sark. "If you'd killed Toff when you beat him, I wouldn't have made the attempt."

"We understand that, Lady," Sark's father dipped his head respectfully. "We have had a talk with our children, who were unaware of all the facts. They now understand things better."

"Good. Erland," Lissa turned to her Karathian warlock mate.

"Here is a supply of sun crystal." Erland employed power to bring in twenty pounds of what the Green Fae called Indis-Banuu—holder of the sun. "This should enable those coming tomorrow to help grow plants and such. And this," he gestured a second time, "is enough seed and cuttings to grow a garden." A large, wooden crate appeared. Toff blinked—the crate was nearly as tall as Erland, and twice as long. "There are gardening tools inside, plus a few other necessities. Sheep for wool, cows for milk and chickens for laying will be brought in a day or two. You will not starve unless you choose to do so."

"We thank you for these gifts," Sark's father bowed. "We cannot repay them."

"I don't expect you to," Lissa huffed. "Just teach your children better."

"I promise to do that."

"Good. We're done, here. The others will be brought tomorrow."

"We will welcome them. Thank you."

"Are you ready to go?" Lissa turned to Toff and the others.

"We're ready, Mom." Nissa hadn't spoken before that, but she went to her mother and put an arm around her.

"Good. Connegar, will you take us back?" Lissa asked her tallest Larentii mate.

"I will." All of them disappeared.

* * *

Lissa's Journal

"Lissa, don't fret, my love. I know those young ones should have apologized to Toff, yet they did not. I do not understand what it is their parents are teaching them." Erland attempted to stop me from pacing inside my suite. "Come to bed. You need rest, Renegar says so."

"Those Green Fae and their humanoid neighbors blame Toff for their troubles, still. I could see it in their eyes. It's their fault, plain and simple. They decided to take Toff in the beginning, and then Redbird decided to perform the mindbond. Honestly, Redbird ought to be cooling her heels on Evensun, too, for her part in this. If Kifirin hadn't promised to level judgment against them when Toff turns twenty-nine, I'd have put her there right after Toff came back to us." I was still angry that Toff hadn't received an apology.

"Lissa, they did not decide to take Toff in the beginning. They desired to take Wyatt. We know who is responsible for switching bracelets so the children would be confused."

"Do not say that name to me, Erland Morphis, or you'll be sleeping alone tonight."

"I know that, love. I am merely stating fact."

"How is my brother, by the way?"

"He is well. Wylend is teaching him many things, and he is making good progress in his lessons. I must say the few lessons he received in healing were his best—he is outstanding in that area."

"His mother is a healer. I'm not surprised," I tossed up a hand in resignation. "Do you see him often?"

"Wyatt?"

"No. Wyatt's father."

"He is often at breakfast with Wylend, your grandfather."

"Yeah, I suspected as much."

"Lissa, please don't force Wylend to choose."

"I won't."

"But it upsets you."

"How can it not?"

"Come here. Lie down beside me." Erland motioned for me to join him in bed.

"Erland, where is this going to end? Does my grandfather have warlocks searching for Zellar?" I climbed onto the bed and settled beside my Karathian warlock.

"Yes. They have already gone to Cloudsong, but Zellar has left that world with a drained core and used the last of its power to hide his power signature. We are back where we started, love." Erland pulled me next to him and tucked my head against his shoulder.

"What if he's draining other worlds? That's a death sentence, Erland. Zellar hides himself with the power he gains from draining cores, and I couldn't go after him right now, even if I could find him." I touched my belly.

"I know this. Stop worrying. It can't be good for the baby."

"Of all the times to get pregnant," I grumped. "I can't even use any power now, or Karzac will have a conniption."

"It could harm the child. You know this."

"Yeah, don't remind me."

Chapter 13

"Master Morwin, what are you doing?"

"Writing a history, young one." Morwin's bushy, red eyebrows wiggled as he smiled at Trik. Trik had arrived early for lessons, only to find his new tutor tapping away on a comp-vid.

"A history?"

"Yes. I have published many during my long life."

"Really? Have I read any of them?"

"I do not know what books may be in your grandfather's library, so I cannot say. If you are interested, I can copy something onto your comp-vid."

"I'd like that. I like to read," Trik replied.

"I know that about you already," Morwin nodded. "This history concerns the Green Fae after they came to live on Le-Ath Veronis. Very little is known and less is written about them prior to that event. I fear that the race may be dwindling, and had they been allowed, they might have mingled with and offered their gifts to the Vionnu while they were still there. As it is," Morwin tapped the end of a sentence and dropped his comp-vid in a drawer, "they were chased from Vionn by a terrible, renegade religion. Vionn will suffer as a result, I think."

"So you believe that every action sends out ripples and affects everything it touches? I read that in a philosophy book," Trik said.

"Yes. I am more than four hundred years old and have already seen much of this during my life. It seems that the more lives the initial action affects, the more ripples are sent out. Now, have you a report for me?" Morwin lifted a long, thick, reddish eyebrow, making Trik want to snicker.

* * *

Lissa's Journal

"Cheedas?" Oluwa had brought his newest turn to the palace, because Cheedas insisted on seeing me. I'd been reading reports at my desk that morning, but I lifted my head as Heathe ushered visitors into my study.

"Raona, what do you think?" Cheedas smiled and held out his arms. He was taller, now, his skin a shade or two darker than it was before and the silver had disappeared from straight, dark hair.

"Cheedas, I missed you," I rose and walked toward him quickly, wrapping my arms about his waist.

"Oluwa tells me that a child is on the way," Cheedas murmured against my hair as he embraced me. "I feel like a grandfather."

"You will be a grandfather," I pulled away and smiled at him. He was happy; Oluwa was obviously treating him very well.

"Oluwa says I may visit with your young ones soon—I hear they were asking about me."

"Every day," I nodded. "Have you fed already?"

"My sire has seen to that. We are on our way to visit Casimir—I will learn the bite today."

"Thank you Oluwa, for this," I grasped one of Oluwa's large hands and squeezed.

"My Queen, it was my pleasure, and I could not ask for a better child." Oluwa smiled broadly, his white teeth a contrast against very dark skin.

"I am sorry to leave the kitchen, but I cannot countenance regular food, now," Cheedas sighed.

"Honey, we'll fix that someday, after Oluwa has taught you everything he knows."

"Will you? Will I be able to walk in sunlight again, Raona?"

"If that's what you want," I nodded.

"I do. I promise to do my best for my sire, so I may deserve this."

"I believe," Oluwa grinned, "that the Queen's love for you might have something to do with it."

"Papa Cheedas, you've always been there for me," I hugged him again. "I'll be there for you, when the time comes."

* * *

"He's at the winery with Roff," Tory whispered as he, Ry and Trik shut the door to their suite after lessons. "We know you're really smart, Trik, so we want you to help with this."

"Help with what?" Trik allowed the compliment to wash over him—nobody had bothered to compliment him before he'd come to Le-Ath Veronis. Coming from Tory, the compliment meant a lot.

"Toff. Well, actually, Toff's father." Ry flopped onto Tory's bed. "Tory overheard Mom saying that Toff's father is still alive. Toff thinks he's dead. We want to find out who Toff's father is and if he's a big criminal or something, and that's why they won't tell him." Ry drew his knees up and stared at Tory's ceiling. "Bro, how did you get chocolate sauce on your chandelier?"

"It was your fault," Tory grumped. "You left that rubber lizard under my pillow."

"You tossed perfectly good chocolate sauce at the ceiling over a rubber lizard?" Trik snickered. He was having fun—a foreign concept to him until recently.

"He squealed like a little girl, too," Ry chuckled.

"I can make you squeal," Tory went after Ry.

After several minutes of unproductive wrestling, during which neither Ry nor Tory emerged as the winner while Trik laughed, both boys settled in the floor in front of Trik's motorized chair to discuss the topic of Toff's father.

"What do we have, information-wise?" Trik asked.