His black eyes met her blue ones, and held them. Watching, Daja and Aymery held their breaths.

It was Sandry who looked away. She fished the circle of thread from a small pouch that hung around her neck, inside her dress. She hesitated, then gave it to Niko.

The moment he touched it, he jerked, dropping it to the floor. "Gods above!" he whispered.

"What is it?" Aymery enquired. "A magical artifact?"

"It's a bijili, isn't it?" Daja wanted to know.

Aymery looked at her.

"The mimanders use them. They keep things in bijili - winds, or strength for when the jishen come and they're worn out, or even just for light. A bijili can be a crystal, or a glass bubble" - she stooped, and picked up the circlet of thread -"or knots in a string."

Niko opened his handkerchief on the table, and pointed to it. Daja reluctantly put the circle on to the linen square. He folded up the cloth, and put it into his shirt pocket. "Until the four of you learn control, I'd rather see you play with coals from the fire than something like this, even if you somehow created it yourselves."

"How about we play with boom-stones?" asked Briar, leaning against his doorframe. "I wouldn't mind getting a look at one of those - before it went boom, anyway. Long before."

"As would most of us," Niko said grimly. "I've been watching them all afternoon, and can't for the life of me tell what's inside their containers. They're even better spelled against magic than battlefire. If we knew how they were made, we -"

"Why can't you put me down?" demanded a cross voice outside. "People will think I'm dying if they see me carried in by two hulking lads -"

Briar smiled dreamily. "She's home."

Lark entered first, looking as tired as everyone else. Then two armoured warriors, a dedicate and a novice, eased through the door sideways. They had made a chair of their arms, and were carrying Rosethorn between them. She was soot-streaked, her hair black with sweat. Despite the irritated vigour in her voice, she had so little strength that she couldn't sit up, only lean against the novice.

It was Kirel; he looked positively harassed. "We brought her," he told Niko. "And believe me, it wasn't easy."

Chapter Ten

Exhaustion rolled in with the fog that Skyfire had ordered. Once he'd made his peace with Tris, Niko tried to meditate with the children, to work on their grip on their emotions while working magic, but gave up after first Briar, then Daja, then he himself nodded off. Supper came up from the Hub, but no one wanted the trouble of setting the table or of cleanup later. Those with the strength nibbled on bread, cheese, fresh garden vegetables and smoked fish from the cold-box; everyone but Aymery seemed half-asleep.

No one wanted to go to the Earth temple baths after supper, either, but in the end the need to get clean was stronger than weariness. The children, Aymery, Lark, Frostpine and Niko managed the trip to the baths.

Briar made certain that he was scrubbed and out well before the men; the girls and Lark, he knew from past experience, would take a while to finish. Bone-weary as he felt, he still managed a weak trot back to Discipline, Little Bear at his heels.

Rosethorn was sound asleep when he crept by her open door. He doubted that she would waken for some time yet, which was all to the good. If she caught him going through Aymery's belongings, she would make his life a misery.

That he had to do so he was sure of. He liked Tris's cousin, but he had liked a great many people in Deadman's District that he couldn't trust as far as he could throw them. Aymery made him feel untrusting. He tried to tell himself he wasn't jealous of the way Tris looked at her family-approved mage cousin, the one who'd been kind to her, but living with Rosethorn tended to strip the illusions from a boy. Briar was jealous, a bit, but he told himself that had nothing to do with it. Something about Aymery was not right.

Before they'd left, the boy had prepared a bowl of the uneaten chicken stew, carefully going through it for any bones. Now he put the bowl on the floor for Little Bear. As fast an eater as the pup was, it would still take him a while to devour so much. Eating, he would care about nothing else - like where Briar was - until he was done.

Before he got to work in Sandry's room, Briar made sure that its front window was open. The rest of Discipline's residents would come in the back. If he left the room through the front window, and walked around to re-enter the cottage through Rosethorn's workshop, no one should guess where he'd actually been.

Aymery hadn't brought as much as Briar had expected: a small chest with plenty of brass fittings and a large, impressive-looking lock; a larger chest that stood open in the middle of the floor; two saddle-bags. The larger chest was a third full of books; the rest was clothing. He could find no hidden compartments. A look into the saddle-bags revealed necessaries like shaving-gear, money, jewellery, a travelling writing-desk, a few more books. Now, here was Tris's cousin, liking to dress well - too well for a student, thought Briar, who had seen many when they came to Deadman's District for rough fun - who'd mentioned a stay of some weeks the night before. He didn't have enough pretty clothes for that. If he were a poor student, as most of them were, then he'd have a reason for a small wardrobe - a small, cheap wardrobe. But he wasn't poor, was he? If he were, then why did he buy a shaving-mirror of the finest Hataran glass, and silver-backed brushes and combs? If he were poor, how did he pay for the small pouch of earrings and a collection of gods-amulets in precious metals? The trunk with his books, and his saddlebags, were all serviceable enough, and had seen plenty of wear. They looked like normal student gear. He might well have brought those to the university from Capchen.