They only made it a dozen paces before a sudden noise drew their attention. Triss turned back to the gate as angry, muffled voices rose on the opposite side. Blue light flashed brightly around the edges of the door, highlighting it briefly before fading away. The night grew still and quiet. Then the door swung open, and Naiela stepped through, leading Nightfang. Reginald groaned. Percival crossed his arms, an annoyed look on his face. And Porten smiled widely, his white teeth brilliant in the silvery moonlight.

  “What are you doing here?” Reginald demanded.

  Naiela swung onto her horse and trotted him forward. “I’m coming with you, obviously.”

  “No you’re not.” Reginald said flatly.

  “Not a chance.” Percival said.

  “Sounds good to me.” Porten said with a wink. The other two turned to stare at him. “Nothing wrong with having a couple pretty girls along.” He looked at Naiela. “You know, I’m just an old man, and I don’t have a horse. Would you mind if I rode with you?”

  “In your dreams, old man.” Naiela replied.

  “The pleasant ones, at least, yes.” He said, winking again. Naiela made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes. She turned back to Percival. “Ready to go?”

  “I said you weren’t coming.”

  “And I’m saying you can’t stop me from following you, so you might as well stop wasting time.”

  Percival held up a hand, twisted his fingers in an odd way, and a wand suddenly appeared in his grasp. “Are you sure about that, apprentice?” He sneered the last word, and Naiela’s face began to flush red with anger in the moonlight.

  “I am a wizard of the tertiary order!” She snarled. “You wouldn’t understand the depth of the trials I underwent to achieve that, dark wizard.” Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Percival. “Disagree with the council if you wish. But do not disparage my training again. I am no apprentice.”

  “If you say so.” Percival rolled the wand between his fingers. “Regardless, you are no match for me, whelp.” His tone had softened, and a slight, crooked smile lifted one side of his beard. Triss was far too familiar with that particular expression. It was the same one he wore whenever he managed to get Triss to lose her cool. Triss could see how this was all going to go. She had to do something.

  “She should come with us.” Triss said quietly. Percival looked at her from under raised bushy eyebrows. Reginald facepalmed. Porten grinned wider.

  “What was that, apprentice?” Percival asked in a tone that said ‘I’m giving you a chance to correct yourself.

  Triss plowed on ahead anyways. “She should come with us.” She repeated. “Reginald already gave you all the reasons.” Naiela turned sharply to look at her, a strange expression on her face.

  “And I already said no.” Percival replied.

  “Yeah, but she’s already here. You really have only two options, and taking her is easier than getting into a fight right outside the castle gate.”

  “I’d hardly call it a fight.” Percival said.

  “You’d be no match for me anyways, Dark Wizard.” Naiela sneered.

  Percival frowned at Naiela, giving her a long, hard look. Then he laughed. “This one has spirit, though she seems to be lacking in sense.” Naiela started to reply but Percival held up a hand to stop her. “One lesson the council apparently neglected to teach you. Bravery without skill is arrogance in disguise. I have no doubt that the council has trained you in battle magics, but you simply are no match for me. Better than you has tried, and well, I’m still here.” He stroked his snowy white beard a few times. “Very well. You may come along. He turned to Triss. “As long as you are willing to take responsibility for her. Any problems she creates, you will be punished for. Is that acceptable?”

  Triss swallowed hard. She knew that Percival wasn’t kidding. And Naiela would almost certainly create problems. She sighed. “Ok.”

  “Good. Let’s go.” Naiela said. “We have places to be, I assume? Since you’re travelling at night.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do!” snapped Percival. Naiela regarded him with one cocked eyebrow. Neither moved for a long moment. “Blasted apprentices.” Percival finally muttered, breaking eye contact. “Insolent. Headstrong. Miserable, the lot of them.” He started walking, continuing to mutter about apprentices for at least the next twenty minutes.

  They travelled through the night, staying mostly to the roads. As the first rays of false dawn began to grey the skies, they turned off the road into a wide open field that seemed to stretch all the way to the distant horizon. Percival and Porten were remarkably spry, keeping up a steady pace, seeming not to tire in the slightest. Once the light was bright enough to see, the two women were allowed to remount their horses. The early morning sun wasn’t enough to wake triss up completely, and she barely managed to keep her eyes open, nodding off once or twice. Buttercup didn’t seem to care about how conscious her rider was, following along placidly wherever the two old men went. Soon though, the sun became too bright for Triss to do anything but keep a hand over her eyes to avoid getting blinded. “A hat.” She muttered to herself. “I should have bought a hat.”

  The sun was high overhead by the time the ancient temple came into view. It seemed to Triss to be a small pyramid of square cut stones, reminding her of ancient Aztec temples she’d seen in pictures back on earth. “Kinda small, isn’t it?” She asked Reginald.

  He smiled enigmatically. “Just wait.”

  “For what?” She asked. The Draconic didn’t answer. She settled back in her saddle with a sigh.

  Soon though, she understood what Reginald had meant. The square stone blocks, which she had thought to each be about the size of a fridge, were instead the size of a house. It took them nearly two hours to finally reach the temple, and Triss’s sense of awe and foreboding grew with each step.

  Thin curls of white smoke rose from near the base of the temple, and Percival headed straight for it. Three white canvas tents were placed equally around a campfire, and a man so thin he looked like he’d been starved sat in front of the fire, poking it idly with a stick. He didn’t look up as they approached. “Took you long enough.” He said in a voice so deep it seemed to belong to the earth itself. He unfolded his legs and stood, finally looking to take them in. Dark, almost black eyes peered at them from under thin white brows. A narrow white beard ran halfway down his tan robes, and his cheeks were so gaunt as to make him almost look skeletal. “What’s with these?” He pointed at Triss and Naiela with one bony finger.

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  “My damn apprentice and her pet council wizard.” Percival said, sitting down beside the fire. “Where’s breakfast?”

  The thin man let out a low whistle. “Pet council wizard, eh? You’re getting soft in your old age.”

  Percival idly produced his wand, twirling it between his fingers. “Would you mind repeating that?”

  “Put it away, Percy.” Porten said in a jovial tone. “You wouldn’t, and neither would Juergen.” He joined Percival at the fire.

  Juergen grunted, then sat down as well. “Breakfast was hours ago. If you’re hungry, make something yourself. I didn’t sign on as your personal chef.”

  “Reginald?” Percival called over his shoulder.

  Reginald sighed. He turned to Triss. “You and Naiela tie up the horses. I’ll make us all something to eat.” He trod off towards the campfire, muttering something under his breath.

  Triss and Naiela did as instructed, taking the horses a short way off and staking them in large patches of grass. A small stream burbled pleasantly nearby, and they made sure the horses could reach the water before joining the ancient wizards around the fire. Reginald already had a pan over the coals, and the smell of frying eggs melded with the smoke to create a mouthwatering scent. The three wizards had moved to sit closer together and were speaking in hushed tones. Triss was only able to catch snatches of the conversation.

  “…two days?”

  “…olipher didn’t…counting today…seven circles…”

  “Eight, if…”

  They grew quieter as the two women sat. “Care to tell us what’s going on?” Triss asked.

  Juergen’s head snapped up, and he stared intently at Triss. She felt herself shrink back involuntarily under his gaze. “You let your apprentice speak to you like that?” He said at last, turning to Percival.

  “I swear, Juergen, you are a true dragon.” Percival said.

  “Powerful?”

  “Old as shit and stuck in the past.” He replied.

  Juergen scoffed. “You always were too modern.” He replied. “I still find it hard to believe you quit the council.”

  “Wait, you were on the council?” Triss asked.

  Percival glared at Juergen. “You keep your mouth shut.”

  The thin man smiled in victory, but didn’t say anything. Percival turned to Triss. “We expect things to begin tomorrow. Or in a week. One of the two.”

  “What things?” Naiela asked. Percival ignored her, not even glancing her direction.

  “Since we have nothing to do until tomorrow, I believe a lesson is in order.” Percival said. A slight grin pulled at one side of his beard. “Starting, of course, with dishes.” He pointed to where Reginald was busy setting up plates of fried eggs with bread and cheese. Naiela snorted a laugh, causing Percival to look in her direction. “And since you’re the one responsible for the council wizard, I think she should probably help you.”

  “In your dreams, dark wizard.” Naiela spat.

  “You’ll be in mine tonight!” Porten said loudly, then laughed uproariously at his own ‘joke’.

  Triss put a hand on Naiela’s shoulder, which she shook off reflexively. It had the desired effect though - Naiela turned her annoyance away from Porten and towards her. “It’s fine. I’ll wash. You can watch.” Triss said. Naiela grunted, then sat back with her arms folded, glaring at anyone who looked her direction.

  After they ate, Triss lugged the dishes down to the stream. Naiela followed along grudgingly. She watched Triss wash in silence for a minute before speaking. “What’s happening tomorrow?” She asked.

  Triss grimaced. “I’m not sure I should tell you. It’s not my place. We’ll be safe though.”

  “They expect the murderer to be here, don’t they. There’s a storm coming.” Naeila said.

  “You didn’t hear that from me.” Triss replied, dunking the cast iron pan into the stream. It hissed slightly as the cool water hit it, sending up a tiny ribbon of steam.

  “Any idiot could figure that part out.” Naiela said. “If they’re out here, they’re probably hoping to fight him. Meaning its a trap.” She looked at Triss with one eyebrow raised. “Right?”

  “Any idiot could figure that out.” Triss replied with a playful grin.

  “Who?” Naiela asked.

  “Who what?”

  “Who is the murder?”

  “Who’s on first.” Triss replied, unable to help herself. Her dad had been a huge fan of those old black and white comedies, and she’d been exposed to them so often growing up it was like a sleeper agent being activated.

  “What?”

  “He’s on second.”

  “Second what?”

  “That’s right. Or actually, right’s that.”

  “Are you trying to make me mad?” Naiela demanded.

  Triss sighed, placing the pan she’d been scrubbing onto the soft grass. “Sorry. It’s…well it’s too much to explain. Old joke from where I grew up.

  “Sounds like a stupid joke.”

  “It is, and it isn’t. Maybe someday I’ll explain it to you.” Triss said softly. She took a deep breath, trying to relax, trying to get rid of the sudden tightness in her chest. Then she quietly went back to scrubbing the pan.

  “Sorry.” Naiela said at last.

  “For what?”

  “I…I don’t know. Just…sorry.”

  Triss finished with the pan and set it on the bank, then started on the plates. “Pratorin.” She said.

  Naiela’s head snapped up. “What?”

  “Thats the name of the murderer. Pratorin. I don’t know anything else about him, just his name. And don’t let anyone know I told you.”

  Naiela nodded slowly. “Pratorin. I won’t.” She sat quietly for a little while, then scooted closer to Triss. She grabbed a towel that Triss had brought and started drying the dishes.

  The rest of the afternoon was taken up with magic lessons. Percival had Triss draw rune after rune until she could barely see, constantly berating her for any mistake. “You haven’t been practicing at all!”

  “Hey, I learned to mindcast my firestarter spell.” She protested.

  “Bah. You should have had that down months ago.” He said dismissively.

  Triss glared at the old wizard. “I’m going to get Reginald to teach me the ant spell.”

  “Fortunately for you, there are no ants out here. Otherwise you’d have company in your tent tonight. And I’m not talking about Porten.”

  “He wouldn’t!” Triss said, shocked.

  “No, no. He’s all talk. Don’t worry about him. He’s completely harmless.” His voice dropped into a lower tone. “Stay away from Juergen though. He’s…prickly.”

  “He looks like he’s undead.” Triss said.

  Percival laughed. “He does, doesn’t he.” The ancient dark wizard cracked a rare smile.

  They worked on spells til supper, then Triss and Naiela were placed again on cleanup duty. Naeila pitched in right away this time, though any attempts at conversation were met only by grunts. Finally, as the sun set and the stars came out, they set up their tents and bedded down for the night. As Percival had promised, nothing interrupted Triss’s sleep, and she woke in the morning feeling well rested for a change.

  Reginald was already up, and the smell of bacon frying filled the air. He looked surprised to see her. “You’re up?” He asked.

  “Nope. You’re hallucinating.” She responded.

  Reginald nodded slowly. “That makes much more sense than you getting up on your own.” Triss walked over and gave him a playful shove. “Hey, watch it.” He exclaimed. “I’m cooking.”

  “Meh. You’re fine.”

  “Uhuh. You want to go wake up Naiela for me? Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

  “What about Percival?” Triss asked, already walking over to Naiela’s tent.

  “Hah! You’re welcome to try, if you’re brave enough.”

  Triss laughed, then knelt at the flap of Naiela’s tent. “Wake up, sleeping beauty.” She called through the canvas. “Breakfast is ready.” There was no answer, so she opened the flap and peered in.

  The tent was completely empty, not even a sleeping bag inside. Triss frowned. “Are you sure she isn’t up already?” She called to Reginald, standing up and brushing the morning dew off her pant legs.

  “I didn’t see her.” He replied. “She’s not in there?” Triss shook her head. “Well, maybe she got up early and went to brush Nightfang.”

  Triss looked over at where the horses were tied, a short distance from their camp. Buttercup grazed alone on the short grass. Nightfang was nowhere to be seen.

  “Shit.”