Marak shook his head in wonder, but he eventually smiled and hugged his father. “If I grow up to be as wise as you, Ukaro,” he chuckled, “I will be a good father indeed. I must return to Fardale now. I will try to visit again after the Sakovans have left.”

* * *

Lord Marak detoured to his secret mage training field on the way back to the Fardale mansion. When he arrived at the field, he saw Master Malafar talking to a group of women. He scowled inwardly as he turned abruptly and headed towards the mage, Klora.

“What is he doing here?” snapped Lord Marak. “How did he find out about this field?”

Klora looked at the Torak lord with surprise in her eyes. “You did not tell him about the field?” she asked. “He has been here since you left the estate. I assumed that you had sent him to explain Omungan magic to us. He has been doing just that for the last three days.”

“I did not send him,” Lord Marak retorted sharply, more sharply than he had intended to. “I am sorry, Klora. I should not be taking this out on you. I wonder how many others now know about our secret field?”

“Nobody else has been around, if that helps,” Klora shrugged. “Calm yourself. He has seen us and is coming this way. He really has taught us new approaches, Lord Marak. Do not be too hard on him.”

“Ah, Lord Marak,” greeted the Omungan mage. “You have the makings of a wonderful academy here. Why do you hide them?”

“I hide them because knowledge of their existence can threaten the survival of my people,” Lord Marak retorted. “How did you find out about this field?”