The Archchancellor smiled curiously as he took the letter from Arum as his guests helped themselves to a seat. "It's not often you see a priests walking around with one of these," He read it, smiling shrewdly at himself. "Interesting. Very interesting indeed. The census will be no problem. Myrtle will-"

"Forgive me, sir," Tynan interrupted hesitantly. "Might we also speak with a theologan? We have something we must ask him, about the church's ancient figures."

"That will be no problem either," said the Archchancellor as he handed Arum the letter. His assistant appeared from a door way, bowing respectfully. "Follow Myrtle, he will direct you."

With another bow, the assistant gestured to the doorway. "My compliments to your parents, Tynan." the Archchancellor suddenly said, his gray eyes shrewd. "If you should ever go back, that is." Tynan nodded stiffly, and followed Myrtle and the others out the door.

They were more or less left alone that evening, their food brought up to them along with directions to the university. They were a subdued group that evening. Arum was still in shock about what he was able to do now, and he kept his hands to himself and his eyes on the floor. Uncalled for, Adam would climb into his lap and rest his head on the priest's shoulder, closing his eyes in dreamy contentment.

In the small adjoining balcony, Tynan leaned on the stone varenda. He looked out across the expanse of the Inner Sea, glittering under the light of the half moon. He could hear the birds that lived on the edges of the water, amidst the shallow mangroves. He had always loved the sound of birds, although knowing exactly what they were saying put a damper on it. It was initially hard to enjoy nature when all you heard all day was "My seeds! My seeds! Have sex with me, I can make my chest big and fluffy!".

From the dim waters of his memory, came the singing of exotic birds echoing against the glass, the brilliant shrills washing over him again and again as he let his mind soar with a hundred wings. Then, lancing through the ecstacy, was the sound of the aviary door opening, and the echo of a cry of alarm. He closed his eyes, letting the night ait wash the memory from his mind. Things were different in Vena. Prodigal son, indeed.

He straightened up and entered the room, lit by a small candle chandelier. Feather sat on one of the beds, combing her hair. She was, Tynan realized, very beautiful, even for an Araawan. "We'd better get to bed," he said. "We'll leave before sunrise and see what we can find." He looked at Arum. "We'll ask at the Faculty of Theology about what can be done to help you."

"Thank you." Arum simply said.

Tynan looked hard at the collar. "I think," he said slowly, raising his eyes to Arum. "You really are a Priest of Mezen."

"No, really?" Arum said, showing a surprising burst of spirit in sarcasm.

"A Priest with a capital P." Tynan said irritatedly. "Not like the syncophants we get these days, getting drunk off the offerings. Priests like the ones of old with bellies full of fire and bile, who had real Belief in Mezen. He was said to reward this kind of Belief with power. 'A sign unto the multitudes that thou art mine - I shalt give thee fire within thy heart , for it was I who doth shapeth the heart unto like a flame.' So the Lacuna of Mezen says, anyway."

They stared at him astonishment. "You don't have to look at me that way," Tynan muttered. "I wasn't born a druid, I know about the Lacuna, obviously."

"But how do you know what's in the Lacuna?" Adam asked. "The Lacuna are the missing letters, sacred scripture. Only priests are allowed to learn from them. Everyone else uses the Words of Mezen."

"Really? How clever of you. Anyway," Tynan went on, letting the matter drop. "Everyone had thought the fire was some kind of symbol or metaphor. But Araawan folk tales speak of Druidic battles with Mezen's Priests back in the old days - between forest and fire. Maybe... maybe this fire is real."

"Ransik died in an explosion," Feather said thoughtfully. "What was the room he was in?"

"The records store." Arum replied.

"I hardly think there would be anything that volatile in a room full of paper," she frowned. "I think he had this power too. He was your master, he must have taught you differently. That must be why you're not like the other priests - or anyone else for that matter."

Tynan bristled at that.

The low beamed interior of the inn was scrupulously neat and for good reason. Araawan slaves waited on the tables and cleaned as the guests came and went with businesslike expressions. "They seem so busy," Adam said softly, sticking close to Tynan and holding his hand.

"They serve s cruel master." Tynan said sagely.

"Who?"

"Money. The Dil Oil fields power much of the machines in Cor Leona and the South. These people are busy, that's all. There's always money to be made."

The innkeeper was by far more presentable than the blacksmith. His beard was coal black and shot with white and his paunch preceeded him everywhere he went. "Greetings, good masters," he said jovially. "Always a pleasure to serve the church."

"Mezen bless you," Arum said with a smile.

Tynan bowed to the innkeeper. "My master would like that we have a room, sir," he said, playing the role of servant. "And directions to the University of Vyraeus, we are unfamiliar with this region."

"Certainly," smiled the inkeeper. "My servants will take your snake to the pens." He saw the look on Arum's face. "Don't worry, good master, she'll be guarded by women, I don't abide in my guests slaves being raped."

Tynan took Arum's wrist, keeping his movements shielded. "Steady," he whispered warningly.

Arum pulled his hand free. "The pens?" he exclaimed. "The pens?! You imbecile!" He slammed his hand down on the inn's counter. "Are you blind? You don't keep slaves like this in pens - she's worth more than this whole damn inn!"

The bearded jowls of the inkeeper wobbled in fear as he glanced down. "Yes, good master, forgive me," he pleaded, bowing low. "I shall have a room prepared for her - close to yours! She is a prize, I'm sure you'd want her close. Please forgive me." Bowing again and again, he led them to the stairs to the upper rooms.

Tynan stared at the counter as Arum lifted his hand. Scorched in the wood was a burnt rosette, embers still smoking.

In the week that followed, the party gradually made their way north. There were no more mercenaries. The Eris, so single minded, had not expected that the four would stray from the path they believed was the right one. The night in the river was never mentioned. Feather acted like it never happened.

She was, Tynan noticed, strangely beguiling. There seemed to be two sides to her, and he never really knew which she'd be with each moment. There was goodness in her, goodness he'd seen. There was a whole lot of devious in her aswell. He hated the way she'd almost seem to toy with Arum and him. It wasn't so bad in the beginning, but it had been getting worse of late. And yet Tynan kept fighting for her attentions, and he really really wondered why.

Had he fought off one mistress only to replace her with another? Sometimes it felt that way. And when he'd get so fed up with the whole affair, she'd show the side of herself he loved most of all, the side that warmed his heart and made him want to hold her and never let go.

"Damn." he muttered under his breath, dismayed at his own weakness to her blasted mesmerizing charms. As the crested a hill, they saw the highway stretch through the valley like a ribbon. In the distance was the blue expanse of the inner sea. His thoughts distracted by the sight, Tynan closed his eyes, slipping into one of the many hawks that fed on the fish of the Inner Sea. "There's a Fornaxian hostel a few miles away." he said, opening his eyes as he slipped back. "We'll make for that, pick up some ceremonial chains and make our way to the university."

"Chains?" Feather asked sharply.

Tynan looked at her with wide eyed innocent surprise. "Oh, didn't you know?" he said. "Araawan are considered slaves in the boundaries of Fornax,"

"What?!" she snapped.

"Oh don't worry, the chain is just for show, in-case any slavers start getting curious," His expression of innocence didn't change, but inside, a small part of him crowed with delight.

Tynan raised his hand to hers as it rested on his shoulder. He could still feel her lips lingering on his cheek. "You're welcome, Feather," he said softly. He turned his face to her, a certainty in his eyes you could bend steel around. He smiled slightly. "But who said we're ever going to part for good?"

He turned around and stood infront of her, her legs resting on either side of his waist. He took her chin in his fingers and kissed her lightly, his lips lingering on hers. He smiled as he pulled back slowly. "I spent the last few weeks trying to keep you alive, and I'll probably be at it for a while yet. I'd hate to go through all that effort just to have you walk away from me. So I'm afriad you're going to have to get used to me being around for a long time to come."

"At least someone thinks I'm worth something," Tynan squeaked, immitating Feather's araawan accent. He scrubbed himself viciuosly in the waist deep water of the small river off a ways from the camp. Feather had gotten so cozy with Arum since the necklace, Tynan had to get away from the cloying sweetness. "HUH!" he snorted as he wrung the bath cloth. "It's just a stupid necklace - probably a damn fake too. I don't see that filthy priest hunting or cooking - lets just wait till Tynan does it!"

He heard footfalls behind him and he spun around with a startled snarl. He settled down, relaxing as if his hackles lowered. There was always something animalistic about Tynan. "You sound like an old maid," Adam said, walking up to the river bank.

"HUH!" Tynan snorted derisively as he turned his back on the boy. "Pass me the soap, since you're here." Adam picked up the bar from the grass and placed it in Tynan's outstretched hand. Tynan heard the boy sit down on the bank and take his shoes off. Soon, small splashes rang in the night as Adam dipped his feet in the water while Tynan soaped himself.

"It's just a necklace, you know." Adam said conversationally as he leaned back on his hands, looking up at the stars. Out here, far from the towns, the stars were brilliant and the crickets sang.

"Damn right."

"And you don't have to feel bad or jealous that it never occured to you to give her anything, either." Adam smiled sweetly at the man as Tynan turned around to glare at the boy. "You're different people," the boy went on, ignoring the glare. "It never occured to you because that's just not who you are. You have your ways of showing affection, he has his."

"This is stupid," Tynan said in frustration, tossing the soap to the bank. He submerged under the water and rose, pushing his hair from his face. "I'm being such a fool. And sometimes it seems like she enjoys this - seeing him and me bloody fighting over her-"

"But you can't help it, can you?" Adam interrupted.

"Ugh, sometimes you're so clever it makes me sick," Tynan snapped, though there wasn't as much bite in the remark as he had hoped.

"Of course I am!" Adam said loftily. "What do you think I am, some kid?"

Tynan rolled his eyes. "Just pass me the towel," he said in resignation.

Adam did as he asked. "Just be yourself, Ty," said the boy as he shook his feet dry and pulled his shoes on. Tynan walked out of the river, dripping wet.

"I can't believe I'm getting love advice from a seven year old kid." Tynan grumbled as he wiped his hair, the towel drapping lazily over his face.

"Yeah, you wouldn't have to if you weren't so hopeless," Adam quipped and ducked as Tynan took a half-hearted swipe at him. "Do you really want to be the crazy old grumps who keeps hundreds of cats?" Adam laughed and ran off as Tynan took a step towards the boy.

Tynan smiled then, watching Adam running back towards the light of the camp. He turned to get dressed and stared at the empty patch of grass that had been his clothes. "Adam!" he snarled. "Bring me back my clothes!!"