The rider made the knights seem the same way. He wore polished jackboots that would have gladdened the heart of an SS man on parade, tight suede breeches, and a clinging shirt of shimmering bright green silk that should have looked effeminate but somehow didn’t. Like the unicorn’s horns and hooves, his conical helm was silvered, and flashed in the sunlight. Only his sword, a businesslike cross – hilted weapon in a battered leather sheath, said he wasn’t a refugee from the set of a bad movie.

Graceful as a cat, he slid down from the unicorn. Hasso expected him to march up to Mertois and start giving orders; his harsh, handsome features were those of a man used to being obeyed, and at once. But the stranger strode over to Hasso himself. He didn’t hold out both hands to clasp, as the Lenelli usually did in greeting. Instead, he sketched a star in the air between them. It glowed with gold fire for a moment before fading.

Hasso’s eyes widened, even more than they had when he saw the unicorn. Unicorns were merely legendary. This was flat-out impossible – but it happened anyway.

“You saw?” the stranger demanded … in Lenello. Yes, he spoke his own language, but Hasso understood as readily as if it were German. That was impossible, too, but as true as the glowing golden star, as true as the unicorn’s switching tail.

“I saw, all right. How the devil did you do that?” Hasso Pemsel answered in German, and the man in boots and breeches and silk also understood him.

“Magic,” the fellow said matter-of-factly. Hasso started to get angry before realizing the newcomer wasn’t kidding. “I’m Aderno, third-rank wizard in King Bottero’s service. You will be the outlander Velona spoke of when she summoned me.”

“Velona… summoned you? Not Mertois?” Hasso wondered whether he’d figured out anything at all about what was going on here. He didn’t even understand the chain of command.