Wigg and Faegan exchanged glances.

"Are you sure that's what she called it?" Wigg asked quickly.

The sorceress nodded. "Reasonably sure."

Faegan leaned eagerly across the table. "Did she say anything else about it?"

"Only one thing," Jessamay answered. "She said that the basic calculations for the River of Thought carried with them many subdisciplines, all of which could be found in the scrolls. One of these was said to be particular to the Scroll Master-that the bearer of the Forestallment would be drawn to the Scroll Master. That's all I know about it."

Stunned, Faegan sat back in his chair. "I've seen it," he said quietly, half to himself.

"What!" Wigg exclaimed. "What do you mean, 'You've seen it'?"

"When I found the calculations in the scroll that allowed you to call the acolytes home," Faegan said, "I saw others listed as well. I paid them little heed, because I felt sure I had already found the one I needed. One of those subdisciplines must be for the Scroll Master!"

"Then our path is clear," Tristan said firmly. "You must immediately imbue my blood with this Forestallment so that I can search for him."

To his great surprise, both wizards shook their heads.

"We can't do that," Wigg said.

Tristan scowled. "And why not?"

"For the same reason that we cannot train you right now," Faegan answered. "As long as your blood is azure, we can't know what effects our use of the craft might have on you. Despite the desperate nature of our situation, we cannot risk losing the Jin'Sai. Especially now."

"But Failee was successful in granting Tristan Forestallments," Abbey countered. "If she could do it, then why can't we?"

"The prince's Forestallments were granted to him in the Recluse, before his blood changed to azure," Wigg reminded her. "No, Faegan is right. As tempting as it might be, we simply cannot risk it."

The First Wizard looked over at Faegan. "I'm sure that you will agree with me when I say that I should carry the Forestallment," Wigg said. "I have already employed the River of Thought, and I am familiar with its use. Therefore, augmenting my already existing Forestallment with the subdiscipline for the Scroll Master should be relatively simple-should one care to call it that. And then the prince will accompany me, as my blood searches out the Scroll Master."

After thinking it over for a few moments, Faegan finally nodded his agreement.

Wigg turned toward Tristan. "It seems that you and I are about to go on another adventure."

Tristan nodded, but he felt torn. He knew how important it was for him to go with Wigg. But with Wulfgar on the way, part of the prince wanted to remain here to lead the Minions into battle. And he hated the idea of leaving Celeste. Would she still be alive when they came home? He couldn't bear the thought of losing her-or of her facing death without him or her father by her side. Then he had an idea. With hope in his eyes, he looked at Wigg.

"We should take Celeste with us," he said. "Every moment is precious. If we are successful with the Scroll Master, then I could help her right then and there, without having to first return to the palace. This makes the most sense, does it not?"

"You must have been reading my mind," Wigg said with a smile.

"Of course she should come with us. We will go together in a Minion litter."

"Begging your pardon, First Wizard, but taking a litter won't work," Adrian interjected. "You will need to go by horseback."

Wigg's right eyebrow arched upward. "And just why is that?"

"The flying Minions' pace will overcome the workings of the spell," she answered. "When you employed the River of Thought to bring the acolytes home, we found that we all shared something in common-an undeniable need to come as quickly as we could. Of course, that meant riding at a gallop. But every time we did, each of us seemed to somehow outpace the spell and we lost the feeling. When we slowed back down, the feeling reemerged. Flying Minions will be unencumbered by the lay of the land, able to fly in a straight line. Even bearing a litter, they will go too fast. And flying in circles just to slow down will end up exhausting them."

Wigg rubbed his chin. "Interesting," he said. "Very well, we shall go by horseback. But we should have a phalanx of warriors accompany us with a litter full of supplies. If we need to come home quickly, they can fly us back."

Tristan nodded, then turned to Traax.

"In my absence, I leave Faegan in charge of the Minions. You are to follow his orders as if they were my own. Should Faegan fall in battle, then Shailiha will take charge. Do you understand?"

Traax bowed his head. "It shall all be as you command."

Tristan could see that everyone was tired-especially Tyranny and Shailiha, who had returned home only hours earlier. Further plans could wait while everyone took a break. But first he wanted to make an announcement. He reached for Celeste's hand. She smiled at him.

"This meeting is adjourned for four hours," he said. "But before you all go, there is something I have to tell you." Taking a deep breath, Tristan smiled.

"Three days ago, in Parthalon, Celeste and I were married. We waited to tell you because we wanted you all to hear our good news at the same time."

After a few seconds of shocked silence, the group erupted with joy. Everyone immediately came to hug, kiss, and congratulate the newlyweds. Only Tyranny hung back, momentarily frozen in her chair. But then even she, face white, eyes suspiciously shiny, rose and went to give Tristan a quick kiss on one cheek.

As the hoopla died down, Jessamay unexpectedly raised her voice.

"I'm sorry to have to do this just now," she said, "but with the prince's indulgence, may I please ask that everyone sit back down for a few minutes? I would not ask if it wasn't very important. When you hear what I have to say, you'll understand."

After passing curious looks among themselves, the members of the Conclave returned to their seats.

"What is it?" the First Wizard asked.

Jessamay took a deep breath. "I have something to tell you all," she began. "It is something that only I could know-something that could make a great difference in the impending struggle. I learned of it only after my arrival here at the palace."

The sorceress paused for a few moments. As she did, Shailiha went to take up Morganna and bring the toddler back to the table to sit on her lap. A foreboding silence crept over the room.

When she knew that she had everyone's attention, Jessamay began her tale.

CHAPTER LXII

Pushing with her heels, Satine casually rocked her chair back upon its two rear legs and took another sip of ale. It had gone flat some time ago, but she didn't care. Placing the pewter mug back on the table before her, she carefully looked around.

The tavern was a forlorn, ramshackle place. She sat by a window that looked out on to the street. A small fire burned in the fireplace to her left, occasionally sending the comforting smells of smoke and soot her way.

Other patrons-mostly men-sat at tables nearby, slowly drinking their way into the evening. Although she had received several curious glances when she first walked in, none had approached her, and for that she was thankful. She didn't need any unnecessary attention just now.

Since she had killed Lionel, this was the first time she had departed the quiet, out-of the-way inn where she'd been staying on the other side of Tammerland. Now she kept an eye on the archery shop across the street, waiting until she felt it was safe to venture out to see what word Bratach had for her.

So far she had seen nothing unusual. She had recognized none of the passersby in the street, and she had seen no one loitering about the shop. Several archery customers had come and gone, but that was to be expected.