PART 1 DEATH

"…And as each of you is aware, the stone we call the Paragon 'conducts' its gifts to those of endowed blood by way of its twenty-five facets," Wigg told the group of keenly interested women. Out of habit, he placed his gnarled hands into the opposite sleeves of his gray robe.

"These facets allow us control of such arts of the craft as the Kinetic, the Sympathetic, the Formative, and the Causal, to name but a few," the First Wizard went on. "However, it is the Organic facet of the stone that I wish to discuss today." He withdrew his right hand and held up a long bony forefinger.

"It is this facet with which you are the least familiar," he added, "for unlike all the others, it is available only to those persons of partial blood signatures. As you look to the diagram I am about to conjure, you will notice that…"

While Wigg droned on, Prince Tristan of the House of Galland sighed deeply. Leaning back, he raised the two front legs of his chair from the floor, ran a hand through his long, dark hair, then crossed his arms over the laces of his black leather vest. His dreggan, the curved sword of the flying warriors known as the Minions of Day and Night, rested on the marble floor beside his chair. The black quiver that held his throwing knives lay alongside it.

On an impulse, he had decided to attend one of Wigg's lectures to the Acolytes of the Redoubt. They were the secret sisterhood of the craft, recently called to Tammerland from their various locations about the countryside. Now the red-robed women sat with rapt attention, many of them zealously taking notes in large leather-bound journals.

A short time into the lecture, the prince realized that he was already familiar with much of the subject matter, due to his recent experiences with the partial adept Abbey. He sighed again. Of all the days to come here, he thought. Unfortunately, walking out on one of Wigg's lectures was not an option. It would send the wrong message to the acolytes, and besides, Wigg would never let him hear the end of it.