Kron Evenhanded watched the old woman leave his workshop, happy that he’d been able to repair her shattered heirloom china pitcher with his magic – and happy that she trusted him enough to bring it to him. When he had come to this small town several years ago after leaving the Magic Institute, he had wanted to get away from the constant fighting there so he could practice his craft in peace. It had taken several months before the townspeople had accepted him and his magic; they’d never encountered anything like it before. But by now they’d learned his magic was harmless, even useful….

"Kron?" His neighbor Phebe knocked on the door, then pushed it open. She remained in the doorway, as still as a fawn hidden in leaves. Her hands were behind her back. "Kron, have you performed any new types of magic recently?"

"No," he replied, puzzled. "Just my usual enchanting of items." He beckoned her in. "Why, is something wrong?"

"Lia found a… twisted chicken this morning while she was gathering eggs." She showed him the white, bloodless carcass. The chicken’s head was on backward. The neck itself hadn’t been twisted, only the head, and that was melded smoothly to the neck as if the chicken had been born like that. "This isn’t a side effect of your magic, is it?"

Kron bit back an angry response. He was the only magician in Wistica, after all. He’d assumed he was the only one in thousands of furlongs; most magicians preferred to stay in the capital where their skills could command high prices. But now someone else was here, someone with clearly hostile intent.

"I didn’t do that, Phebe, not even by accident," he replied. "But I’ll find out who did and make sure it doesn’t happen again."

She hefted the carcass, considering it. "I hate to waste it. Do you think it’s safe to eat, or will the magic hurt us too?"

Kron pulled a long, ruby crystal from a leather pouch on his belt. He waved the crystal over the chicken. The crystal glowed dully in the morning sunlight coming through the single window, but otherwise it didn’t react. "There’s no other magic on the chicken, so it should be safe. Planning on having stew tonight?"

"Yes, after I take it to the Temple and have my sister bless it first, just in case. But I’m sure we’ll have an extra plateful for you if you’d like to stop by for supper."

"I’ll be there," Kron said, his stomach rumbling despite his having eaten a few hours before. Using magic always made him hungry. "But first I’ll try to find out who’s after your chickens."

Kron tidied up his workshop, then followed Phebe back to her yard. He cautiously picked his way through the dirt and droppings to the henhouse, but something disgusting splattered into his sandal anyway. He shook his foot to dislodge as much of it as possible.

Kron brought out a finder attuned to magic. Watching the finder with one eye, Kron circled the small henhouse. He was three-fourths of the way around before the wooden arrow of the finder jerked, then swung off in another direction. Either the magician was transporting him or herself around, or else the finder was picking up more than one source of magic.

For the next few hours he wandered all over Wistica, following his finder to ripe-smelling midden piles, windowsills of homes and bakery shops, and the small dock in the river. Each time the finder brought him to a place where someone could hide, although some of the places, such as a wine barrel or a nook in a wall, were too small for Kron to enter. He must be following the traces of a magic spy, someone or something sent to learn the weaknesses of the town before invaders arrived. But the spy avoided the gates and other sources of military information; very strange. Kron drummed his fingers on the finder as he tried to make sense of it all.

He did have one clue; the traces were clustered in the northwest section of the village, near the forest. And as he followed the finder to the edge of Wistica, the cat’s-eye embedded in the base began to glow, a sign he was coming to a stronger source of magic. The arrow now pointed to the forest itself. There wasn’t a trail, though, so Kron waded through knee-high grass that tickled his bare legs. Sandals and tunics were more appropriate to city streets than forests; he should really obtain some leggings and boots at the next market.

He checked the finder again once he entered the forest. He’d hoped the path would be easier to follow here, but instead of leading him onto mossy soil, the finder pointed him to a tangle of undergrowth. Kron pushed sticky branches away from his face as he squeezed through the brush surrounding the narrow path. What sort of magician could use a trail like this? Perhaps he or she had shrank in size or changed into an animal. Or perhaps….

"From north to south, you are dead! Brush your hair and go to bed!"

The cat’s-eye scorched the finder as something dropped from a tree into the bushes. A brown bear rose and roared, mighty jaws gaping and sharp claws extended. Kron’s heart raced even as he recognized it as illusion. He tried to banish it but failed; the other magician was stronger than he was.

To distract the magician, Kron ripped a white thread from his tunic and quickly enchanted it, then threw it at the other magician. He didn’t expect such a talented magician to be caught by it, but to his surprise, it succeeded. The illusion dissipated, and a high voice cried out, "That’s not fair! Let me go, or I’ll call my mother!"

"Your mother?" Hastily, Kron pushed through the branches to reveal his captive. It was a boy. A young boy, about six or seven, with apple-round cheeks and dark brown hair dappled by the sunlight pouring through the half-grown leaves. He had an extra finger on each hand, and as he squirmed, thread wound around his wrists and knees, his joints bent backward as naturally as they did forward.

"What’s your name, son?" Kron asked.

The boy stopped struggling and looked at him, dark eyelashes shielding his fearless, too-vivid green eyes. "Are you my father? Mother never told me who he was, but I know he can’t be a Nil."

"A Nil?"

"You know, one of them." The boy’s voice dripped adult scorn on the last word. "The ones without magic. Mother says the only thing they’re good for is serving us magicians."

Kron frowned. Didn’t this child know any ordinary people? Why wasn’t his mother teaching this child more respect for others? Kron knew only one magician who was so contemptuous of those without magic, but she was nowhere near here. Still… "Is your mother’s name Salth?" Kron asked.

The boy nodded. "My name’s Sal-thaath. What’s yours?"

"Kron Evenhanded. I’m a … I knew your mother. We studied magic together about ten years ago."

He couldn’t really say he had been a friend of Salth’s; he didn’t remember her having any friends at all. She was the most powerful magician of their generation, the daughter of two prominent magicians, and she had spent all her time at the Magic Institute studying. Rumor had it that several years ago, she had summoned a demon lover from elsewhere to get her with child; looking at Sal-thaath’s extra fingers and remembering his power, Kron believed it for the first time.

"Sal-thaath," he said, "if you don’t like ordinary people, why were you spying on them?"

"I wanted to see what they were like. We don’t have any close to home."

"And the chicken?"

The child’s expression never changed. "Oh, that. I was just playing around."

"Playing around! You can’t do that, Sal-thaath. You could hurt someone."

A puzzled look appeared in Sal-thaath’s eyes. "What does hurt mean?"

Kron frowned. "Haven’t you ever fallen, or cut yourself?"

"No."

Further questioning revealed he’d never been hurt at all; his potent magic had always protected him. Kron wondered how Salth disciplined him—if she even did. She had to know that a powerful, untrained magician with a child’s impulses could wreak an unimaginable amount of damage.

"Where’s your mother?"

"Back in the mountains." Sal-thaath tried to break free. "Can I go home now?"

"Only if you take me with you. I need to speak to your mother."

"Does this mean you’re going to be my father?"

Kron didn’t know how to answer that question. He didn’t want to take responsibility for this child, but someone had to tame him before people were hurt. "We’ll see. Now," he said, breaking the thread, "let’s go."

Sal-thaath proved to be adept at magic transport; in heartbeats, they arrived at the foothills of the mountains, thousands of furlongs from the forest. Pine trees scented the air, and an eagle plunged into a nearby stream, emerging with a fat fish. "Your country is beautiful," Kron said, wishing privately that Sal-thaath would stay here instead of traveling to Wistica at will.

Sal-thaath danced around, crushing delicate lavender wildflowers underfoot. He gripped Kron’s hand with all six fingers. "This way," he said as he tugged. "Behind the trees."

Salth’s home looked as if she had magically grafted a marble two-story house onto an abandoned wooden farmhouse. She must have brought all her food in by magic as well; she didn’t even have a vegetable garden in the back. Sal-thaath led Kron inside the farmhouse section. The single large room was cluttered, with dirty dishes of various types piled on the unmade beds and in the dusty hearth. The room smelled moldy, and flies buzzed everywhere. Sal-thaath raced through the room to the marble section. "Mother," he called, "come see! I’ve found a father!"

Kron followed, wondering if Salth would assume he was a demon.

The marble section of the house was as neat as the farmhouse was chaotic. Filled bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Kron noticed the lack of magical instruments; Salth had always disdained them as tools for the weak. That was another reason he hadn’t spent much time with her at the Magic Institute; his specialty was making magical instruments.

Salth herself hadn’t changed much. She sat on a wooden chair near the window, books piled on the table in front of her. Her limbs were as thin and angular as ever, and her dress was so grimy Kron couldn’t tell what its original color had been. Her only feminine trait was her luxurious hair, bound into a black rope hanging over her shoulder. The warmth in her gray eyes was replaced by puzzlement as she looked from Sal-thaath to Kron.

"I know you," she said slowly, her voice rusty. "You were at the Institute, weren’t you?"

"I’m Kron. Kron Evenhanded." He dipped his head briefly. "I didn’t know you had left the capital, Salth. You and your talents would still command much respect there."

"I can’t work there, double-too-many distractions. You’re distracting me now. I’m this close," she pinched her thumb and forefinger together, "to figuring out how to extract magic from Nils. So leave me alone."

Sal-thaath took a few steps forward. "I thought you said Nils don’t have magic, Mother."

"They do have some in their souls. Not much, a few drops compared to the double-mighty waterfalls within us, certainly nothing they can use. But there are so triple-many of them that they would make a nice source of magic for the magician double-smart enough to figure out how to collect it." She looked at Kron with irritation. "Are you still here? Go away!"

"No, Salth; we need to talk about Sal-thaath." Kron turned to the boy. "Sal-thaath, why don’t you go play for a while so I can talk to your mother?"

"Will you play with me afterwards?"

"We’ll see," Kron replied.

Sal-thaath disappeared in a rush of air. Kron waited until he was sure the boy was gone before saying, "Salth, you have to do something about your son."

Salth had already returned to her book. "Why? He’s a fine boy, double-strong and powerful," she said, not even looking up.

Kron jerked her book away. As she gasped, he said, "He’s too powerful, and he has no sense of right and wrong. He’s more powerful than I am; he could destroy the town where I live."

Salth reached for her book, but Kron held it out of her reach. "So? What are a few more or less Nils?" she asked. "They breed like animals."

"Is magic all you care about? Don’t you care about Sal-thaath?"

The anger in Salth’s eyes softened. "He’s triple-talented. I think he’ll be even more talented than I am when he grows up."

Kron used the only argument he could think of that might convince Salth. "Maybe, but even you can’t teach him everything. The Magic Institute won’t take him if he can’t tolerate others. Then how will he master his magic?"

"Master his magic? He is magic." She leaned forward. "He’s half-demon."

"So…the rumors were true after all." Kron repressed a shudder. Letting Salth see his repulsion would set him back even further. "Why would you do something like that, Salth? Just to show that you could?"

"Well, I certainly wasn’t going to mate with a Nil or even a weakling like yourself." She beckoned slightly with a forefinger. The book in Kron’s hand tugged at his grip like a fish on a line. He tried grasping it with the other hand, but the leather cover seemed to exude grease. The book evaded him and sailed back to its mistress’s hand.

Salth’s eyelids lowered in satisfaction briefly before she glared at him again. "You’ve wasted enough of my time. Go, and leave us alone!"

She didn’t even gesture this time, so Kron was completely unprepared as she transported him out of the room and dumped him into the river. Cursing, Kron leapt out before his powders were ruined. The numbing water made his tunic cling uncomfortably. Unfortunately, he’d never been good at cleaning with magic; he had to brush off the dirt and plant leaves by hand.

High-pitched laughter from overhead startled him. "That was funny. Do it again," Sal-thaath said as he floated down to Kron’s eye level.

"No." The soft grass was cool, but the soil crumbled under his feet; he’d lost a sandal. "Go find my other sandal," Kron said.

Amazingly, the boy obeyed. Kron wiped off both sandals on the grass, then donned them and laced them tightly. He rummaged though his pouches until he found a golden powder of speed. He sprinkled it liberally over his feet and sandals, then stood up and waited for the powder to take effect.

"Aren’t you staying?" Sal-thaath asked.

"I can’t." Even with the powder of speed, it would take him a few hours to return home. He had to decide what to tell Phebe about her chicken, then he had to warn the other villagers to stay clear of the mountains.

"That’s all right. Mother never has much time for me either." Sal-thaath’s shoulders drooped as he turned away.

Kron couldn’t help but feel sorry for the child, half-demon or no. He had no one else for company besides a magic-obsessed mother, after all. His feet began to itch, a sign that the powder had taken effect, but he delayed long enough to pull out a small, soft cloth ball he had enchanted for Phebe’s daughter Lia. He could always make another. "Sal-thaath, catch!" As the boy turned, Kron tossed the ball to him. Lunging awkwardly for it, Sal-thaath caught it only to drop it. The ball bounced straight up back to him.

Sal-thaath beamed. "Thanks, Kron!" He floated off, bouncing his ball happily on the grass.

The itch in Kron’s feet intensified until it was undeniable. Kron turned away and started to run, concentrating on making the furlongs disappear.

Kron half-expected Sal-thaath to seek him out, so he wasn’t too surprised a couple of weeks later when the boy reappeared in Kron’s workshop one morning. "What are you doing?" he asked, carelessly pushing aside several of Kron’s projects on the wooden bench. He hoisted himself up to sit in the cleared space, swinging his bare legs and looking around with interest.

"Be careful with those; they’re not finished yet. And I’m making a finder." He showed Sal-thaath the finder: a finger-length ash arrow loosely pinned to an oak base. While Kron didn’t really want Sal-thaath here – a curious young boy like him could easily cause mischief – he thought that as long as the boy was with him he couldn’t hurt anyone.

Sal-thaath splayed his thumb and five fingers over the finder. He gently touched first the arrow, then the jewel in the base. "There’s no magic in here," he said as he looked up.

"I haven’t put it in yet. Just watch." Kron unpinned the arrow and took it in his left hand. He grasped the base in his right, then he moved his arms straight out to each side. He closed his eyes to focus his will. The ash to seek and the oak to know. The ash to seek and the oak to know. The ash to seek…

Kron’s arms were trembling with the strain by the time the pieces of the finder felt warm. He lowered his arms, but he still had to key the base. He plunged it into a bowl of water and held it there until the cat’s-eye glowed brightly. He dried it off, then attached the arrow. "Now the arrow will always point to the nearest source of water, no matter who holds the finder." He gave the finder to Sal-thaath. "Go on, try it."

Sal-thaath floated around the room, testing the finder. No matter where it was, the ash arrow always pointed towards the bowl. "Double-clever!" he said finally as he dropped the finder back on the bench. "This is a kind of magic Mother and I never used before!"

Kron smiled. It felt good to have another magician praise his work. And if he impressed Sal-thaath with his magic, maybe he could impress him in other ways, even counteract Salth’s attitudes towards others. "Sal-thaath, if you promise to be careful, you can stay and watch me make other magical instruments. You might even be able to help me."

"Could I! I promise; please let me stay." The boy’s eyes shone with excitement. "This is more fun than catching birds in the forest."

And safer for the birds too, Kron thought. "All right then, but remember not to hurt anything – or anyone. Now, let’s start by sorting out the pieces to these projects you just jumbled together."

For the next moon, Sal-thaath visited Kron every day. Sometimes he stayed for just an hour, sometimes all day. Sal-thaath was always willing to do whatever Kron asked, whether it was to fetch wood or water or organize his materials. Kron couldn’t get him to do the chores without magic, though. In return, Kron shared his meals with him, taught him how to make a few simple magical instruments, and listened to him chatter. As spring became summer, Kron grew accustomed to Sal-thaath’s presence and missed him when he had to return home.

"You haven’t told your mother you visit me, do you?" he asked Sal-thaath once.

The boy shrugged. "She’s been very busy researching magic. She hardly talks to me when I’m there anyway."

Kron didn’t know whether to be relieved that Salth didn’t know about their association or sad for Sal-thaath that his mother spent so little time with him.

One early summer morning Sal-thaath arrived as Kron was gathering some of his magical instruments into a sack. "You’re not leaving, are you, Kron?" he asked, his eyes shadowed with worry.

"Today’s a market day. I’m going to trade these for supplies." Kron hesitated. He still didn’t trust Sal-thaath completely – he’d never told Phebe who had killed her chicken — but this would be the best way to teach Sal-thaath how to deal with ordinary people. As long as he was with Kron, he wouldn’t harm anyone. He knelt and looked the boy in the eye. "You can come with me…if you promise to be the best you’ve ever been." He shook a finger in the boy’s face. "No leaving my side, not for a heartbeat, no getting angry at people, and no using your magic. Do you think you can do that?"

Sal-thaath stuck out his lower lip, so Kron added, "And if you do, I’ll buy you a sugared pastry afterwards."

"I’ll be good! I’ll be good! Of course," Sal-thaath said hopefully, "I’d be even better if I had the sugared pastry first."

Kron laughed. "Sorry, Sal-thaath, after the market, not before. Now, help me decide which pieces to sell and which ones to keep."

The market was less than ten furlongs from Kron’s house, in the town square. Kron chose a secluded, shaded spot next to a low stone wall. Customers would find him once the word spread, and he could keep a better eye on Sal-thaath in a quiet area. Together, they spread their wares on the dusty ground, then Kron boosted Sal-thaath to a seat on the wall. He sat next to him.

"Now what happens?" Sal-thaath asked.

"Now we wait for people to come talk to us," Kron replied.

He had been worried that Sal-thaath would find this part of the market boring, but for all the boy’s spying, he didn’t know much about towns. Obediently remaining on the wall while craning his neck in all directions, he asked about everything from the types of buildings surrounding them to the horses and donkeys pulling wagonloads of goods. Kron patiently answered each string of questions as best as he could before Sal-thaath found something else to distract him.

"Good morning, Kron. Who’s your little helper?" Phebe asked as she stopped to examine a finder.

Kron didn’t know what to say; he hadn’t realized people would be curious about Sal-thaath. "He’s … my apprentice," he answered finally. He hadn’t been bound to Kron, of course, but he had been doing an apprentice’s tasks. Hopefully, that answer should satisfy her.

"Good, good." She wagged a finger in front of Sal-thaath. "Mind your master well now. You could learn a lot from him."

"My master!" Sal-thaath shook his dark hair as he laughed scornfully. "Oh, Kron knows a few things I don’t, but I’m much stronger than him. When I grow up, I’m going to be the double-strongest magician ever — Mother said so. Then she’ll love me."

Phebe drew back, eyes wide. Sal-thaath wasn’t done, though. He hopped off the wall and approached her like a wolf stalking a deer. It should have been funny to see a grown woman frightened by a boy half her size, but it wasn’t. Feeling the aura of menace build around Sal-thaath, Kron jumped down and lunged after him. "That’s enough, Sal-thaath," he said, grabbing him. "Leave her alone."

Sal-thaath didn’t even seem to hear him. He stared straight ahead at Phebe, who seemed locked in place despite the fear in her eyes flecked with gold and green. "What’s the difference between a Nil and an animal?" Sal-thaath asked softly, almost to himself. "I don’t know. Do you?"

Phebe shrank between one heartbeat and the next, her red market-day dress collapsing around her. A russet chicken poked her head out of the neckline, clucking confusedly and cocking her head at Kron and Sal-thaath.

"Sal-thaath! Change her back this heartbeat!" Furiously, Kron started to shake the boy, then stopped. His hands clutched air.

Sal-thaath was gone.

"He’s a menace, Salth! He has no respect for others! He has to be contained before he kills an entire city with a thought!"

"He’s just a child, Kron." Salth was red-eyed and sallow-faced, looking as if she hadn’t slept since Kron’s last visit. A jar of bitter-smelling leaves stood on her table. She spat something brown into a bronze pot on the floor. "He’s exploring what he can do with his magic. And since you managed to change your…friend back, what does it matter anyway?" She took a fresh leaf from the jar and crumpled it into her mouth, chewing noisily.

"It matters to Phebe. Being a chicken for a day and a half hurt her somehow. She frightens easily, and she won’t talk to me. I don’t think she’ll be inviting me over for chicken stew for moons, if ever."

Salth shrugged. "Get another Nil to cook for you, then. There are double-plenty more where she came from."

She was missing the point. "Even for you, that’s too much. Sal-thaath could start killing people next. Don’t you care if your son grows up to be a murderer?"

"Murderer!" Her laugh had the same scorn Sal-thaath’s had. "Do you think Nils count as people? You sound like you care for them more than your own kind!"

"Nils…" Kron stopped, annoyed with himself for using Salth’s term, "I mean, people without magic are very much like you or me."

"Well, they do have their uses," Salth said.

Kron was suddenly clammy with fear. "You…you’re not really going to go through with what you told me last time about using people for magic, are you?"

"Maybe I will and maybe I won’t." She gave him an arch glance. "You’ll just have to find out."

That was as good as a yes with Salth. Watching Phebe’s mute anguish had been bad enough; he couldn’t stand the thought of more of his friends being tortured to death for no good reason.

Bracing himself against the table, he leaned over Salth. If he had known a spell that would have made him look more intimidating, he would have used it. "Leave my people alone."

"Your people? Did you enslave them?"

"I don’t enslave people, but if you or Sal-thaath come over the mountains after them, I’ll make sure you don’t succeed – and that you regret having tried."

"Brave words from someone who joined the fishes last time." Salth’s eyes turned completely blood red, a trick that might have terrified someone unaccustomed to magic. "You’re annoying me, Kron. Worse yet, you’re distracting me. I think it’s time you joined the little people you’re so fond of."

The air battered down on Kron as Salth attacked. He pushed back with all of his magic, drawing on skills he hadn’t used since he left the Magic Institute. His body burned with pain as Salth shrank it several inches and he forced it back to its normal size. But Salth drew on more magic reserves than he had; he started to shrink again. He needed a distraction.

Kron allowed himself to shrink a foot. Instead of defending himself, he grabbed Salth’s heavy pot of leaves and tossed it at her. She managed to dodge it, but in doing so, she abandoned her spell. Kron didn’t try to attack further; he knew it would be useless. Instead, he turned and bolted out of her house, not stopping until he was winded. He staggered to a tree and leaned on it, panting heavily.

He hadn’t accomplished anything. If anything, Salth was now more likely to attack him or his neighbors. And he was the only one who had even a small chance of protecting them all. He could never counter Salth directly; he needed some way of neutralizing her magic first.

Kron kept a pouch of dried berries with him at all times in case he needed to replenish his energy after using magic. He quickly emptied it now. The sweet berries would help him return to his normal height. Then he reapplied the golden powder of speed and started for home, his mind so engrossed in the problem of neutralizing Salth that he nearly crashed into trees several times.

Kron spent the next several days cloistered in his workshop, reviewing his magic and examining various materials to determine which one would work best. He finally decided on a small diamond, which he brought to the goldsmith to have mounted on a chain. When he returned, Sal-thaath was perched as before on his workbench.

"Have you come to apologize?" Kron asked.

"Apologize? For what?"

"Don’t play innocent, Sal-thaath. If you’re not going to apologize to Phebe for turning her into a chicken and promise not to do it again, I don’t want you coming here anymore."

Sal-thaath made a rude noise. "I don’t know why you like the Nils better than me, but if you don’t want to be my father, I don’t want to play with you!"

As quickly as that, the bench was vacant again. The still workshop seemed to echo the boy’s childish words back at Kron. Sal-thaath was just a child, after all, one that needed special direction. Maybe if Sal-thaath actually lived with Kron, he would become more compassionate….

Kron shook his head, trying to eliminate his wishful thoughts. Salth would never let him have Sal-thaath, and he didn’t know much about parenting anyway. The only thing he knew was that Sal-thaath would never learn compassion for others, especially ordinary people, unless someone disciplined him. But he was too powerful as he was now to be disciplined. For the good of everyone, including Sal-thaath himself, Sal-thaath’s magic had to be neutralized.

The goldsmith was mounting the diamond on a pendant; it would take him a couple of days to finish it. In the meantime, all Kron could do was prepare his magic and hope Salth and Sal-thaath left them alone.

As soon as Kron got his necklace back, he locked the door to his workshop again and enchanted the diamond. It resisted his magic at first, so he redoubled his efforts, pouring his magic, his will, his whole heart into it. Finally it yielded and accepted his spell. With a trembling arm, Kron raised the seemingly heavy diamond to the light to inspect it. Perfect; the diamond would absorb magic from its wearer like a dry rag soaked up water. The more magic Sal-thaath tried to use, the more the diamond would absorb. He wouldn’t be able to use any magic as long as he wore this. As an afterthought, Kron enchanted the clasp. It would defeat his purpose if Sal-thaath could remove the necklace.

He dropped the necklace back on the table, then collapsed next to it. He wasn’t sure how long he laid there; he only roused to the sounds of heavy thuds on his door and angry shouts of, "Kron, Kron, open up!"

Still weary, he staggered to the door and drew the bolt. Phebe, her husband Troge, and several others pushed past him into the room. Their angry expressions nearly made him stagger again. "What’s going on?"

"Where’s your apprentice?" Troge asked. He shifted benches and chairs, as if he thought Sal-thaath was hiding under one of them.

"Sal-thaath?" It took him a few heartbeats to make the connection; when he did, a flood of anxiety reenergized him. "What has he done now?"

"He took Lia!" Phebe said between sobs. "I was teaching her how to sew when he suddenly appeared in our house. I didn’t even hear the door open. Before I knew it, he put his arms around Lia, and they both just disappeared." She looked pleadingly at Kron. "Please tell me he’s not going to hurt her!"

Kron clenched his fists, unable to reassure Phebe. He’d wager all he held dear that Salth had sent Sal-thaath to fetch a human for inhuman experiments. Even his golden powder of speed wouldn’t get him to Salth fast enough; he’d have to fold the furlongs between here and Salth’s house to get there in time to save Lia.

"Kron? Do you know where they are?" An edge in Troge’s voice warned Kron he’d better give them an answer they wanted to hear.

"Yes, I do." Kron took a bottle of a restorative from a shelf in the wall. The potion smelled like lemons and tasted a little like chalk; it would give him a momentary boost to help him fold the furlongs. Then he slipped the diamond necklace into his pouch. "But for me to get to Lia, you’ll have to be silent and let me concentrate. And stand back."

Kron put on a pair of wool gloves and advanced to the center of the room, the others retreating before him. He turned to face Salth’s house and closed his eyes. Focusing on every detail he could remember of Salth’s room—every book cover, every cobweb in the corners—he reached through the air to the frigid deeper space that held all spaces, seeking the part that felt like Salth’s room.

He found it sooner than he expected; the deep space felt weak there from Salth’s and Sal-thaath’s constant travel and summonings. Grasping the deep space with stiff fingers, he tore it, opening a portal between his workshop and Salth’s.

Kron dove through the portal, shivering from the brief exposure to deep space. He landed roughly on the marble floor, scraping his skin and shredding his tunic in a score of places.

"Kron! You’re always interrupting me!" Salth shouted.

Kron pushed himself to his knees, then to his feet. Salth’s table had been cleared of books and the jar of leaves. The only thing that occupied it now was Lia, laid flat on it as if for her funeral. Her chest still heaved rapidly up and down, but otherwise she didn’t move. Kron sensed two spells at work: a spell to paralyze her and another one, of a type he wasn’t familiar with, encapsulating her like a cocoon.

"Kron!" Sal-thaath appeared in the air next to him, eyes bright with excitement. "Mother said she’s going to show me how to take magic from a Nil. Did you change your mind about them? Are you here to watch?"

"Of course not!" To Salth he said, "Let her go, Salth. What do you need her magic for, anyway? You’re already the most powerful magician I know!" He tried reaching through Salth’s spells for Lia, but they resisted him.

"Why, to show it can be done, of course." She tapped the cocoon-like spell with a finger, then folded her arms and glanced at Sal-thaath. "Sal-thaath, be a dear and kill this child for me so I can take the magic from her soul. You can do it any way you like."

"Sal-thaath, no!" Kron shouted. With one hand, he groped for the diamond, just in case. "She’s a child, just like you. You didn’t like it when I caught you with my thread; think how she must feel!"

Sal-thaath glanced back and forth between Kron and Salth. Except for their breaths, the room was silent. Then Sal-thaath drifted closer to the cocoon. "Aw, I could’ve broken free of you anytime I wanted, Kron," he said. "I just stayed cause I’ve never met another magician before. But you’re about as much fun as a Nil, always telling me I can’t do this or that. And Mother says Nils are like animals anyway, so it doesn’t matter what we do to them."

"No, Sal-thaath, you’ve got it all wrong." Kron edged up behind the boy. "I’m sorry, but there’s only one way I can think of to make you understand."

Kron swiftly fastened the diamond necklace around Sal-thaath’s neck. He screamed and fell to the floor, landing on his side. "Sal-thaath! Are you all right?" Kron asked. The cloth ball Kron had given him escaped from a pocket and rolled into a corner.

Sal-thaath didn’t appear to be hurt from the fall, but his body writhed. Extra arms and legs sprouted, and his skin darkened and developed a sheen. Kron simply stared; he hadn’t expected this. The diamond, now noticeably bigger, emitted a mosquito-like whine as its color deepened. Sal-thaath drowned out the whine as he howled. He rolled from side to side and pulled at the chain with all twelve digits.

"What did you do to him?" Salth screamed.

"I just neutralized his magic."

"You fool! He’s half-demon, he is magic! You’re killing him!"

Salth seemed to be right; Sal-thaath shifted back to human form briefly, then the extra limbs and dark, shiny skin returned. Kron’s spell seemed to be trying to neutralize both of Sal-thaath’s human and demon halves at once. Kron wasn’t sure at first whether the diamond or the boy was winning, but then Sal-thaath’s convulsions ominously ceased.

Salth was instantly at Sal-thaath’s side. "Get it off of him!" she yelled at Kron as she tried to do it herself.

"Let me; it’s my magic, after all." Kron pushed her aside and fumbled for the clasp. He’d wrought it stronger than he had thought; it didn’t yield for him either.

Sal-thaath stretched a trembling hand towards Kron. Even as Kron struggled with the clasp, some remote part of his mind noted Sal-thaath now had only five fingers on his hand. "I…I hurt, Kron," Sal-thaath whispered. "Why did you hurt me? Do Nil fathers do this to their children?"

Sal-thaath fell still, then his body crumbled. Too late, the clasp came loose in Kron’s hand.

Salth keened as she raked her hands through the dust that had once been her son. Kron numbly rolled the black, warm diamond in his hands, seeking an explanation for what had happened. He’d never thought the necklace would harm Sal-thaath, just humble him a little. And as bad as Sal-thaath’s pranks had been, he hadn’t deserved to die like that, in pain and confused as to why Kron had betrayed him….

"Sal-thaath, my son, forgive me!" he cried.

Salth’s keens suddenly stopped. "Your son? He’s my son, all mine! I’ll kill you for hurting him!" She dove at him and pinned him to the floor, bony knees driving into his stomach and fetid breath in his face. Her black hair covered his face, and her surprisingly strong hands gripped his throat.

Reflexively, Kron struck her with the necklace, the black diamond pointed at her. It cut through her skin and embedded itself in her, chain and all.

Salth shrieked and released Kron to rip ineffectually at her stomach. Her nails couldn’t pierce the dark, hard skin exposed by the tear in her dress.

Dark skin? Kron looked closer. It was just like the dark, shiny skin Sal-thaath had grown. But that wasn’t the only change. In heartbeats, Salth sprouted an extra set of hairy legs; her other pair shifted to match. Her haunches bent backward slightly, while her torso remained vertical. A pair of thin appendages, like the legs on an insect, burst through the tatters of her dress, below her arms. These changes were terrible enough, but Salth’s face made Kron shudder. Only her eyes and mouth changed; her eyes shrank, then scaled over, and her lips disappeared. But those changes took away the last of her humanity.

Salth had absorbed Sal-thaath’s demon magic through the diamond, Kron realized. But Sal-thaath’s magic had altered his original spell so it had changed Salth instead of neutralizing her magic.

"Is that a demon’s true form?" he asked. Her new form suited her more than her original, human form.

"It is, it is! Undo it this heartbeat!"

"I wouldn’t even if I knew how. You deserve it for the way you poisoned Sal-thaath against ordinary people."

She glared at him with her new insect-like eyes. "There must be a way to change back, there must be." Her voice rasped like a saw. "Must find it double-first, and when I do…dread that day, Kron Evenhanded, dread it…"

She vanished.

Kron stared at Sal-thaath’s dust on the floor, his ears still ringing with Sal-thaath’s and Salth’s cries. His insides felt like lead. He’d inadvertently killed a child and harmed his mother. Granted, both of them had been planning to kill innocent people, but he’d never thought his magic would kill. He’d chosen to specialize in making magical objects to avoid hurting others. How had his good intentions led to something so horrible?

Soft moans replaced the fading echoes in his ears. Moans? They came from Lia, still cocooned in Salth’s spells. Kron felt weak, but he pushed himself to his feet and staggered over to her. After some contemplation, he found the weak points in Salth’s spells and undid them.

As soon as Lia could move, she sat up and attached herself to Kron’s neck. "Kron, Kron, you saved me from the spider-people! Is the spider-lady coming back?" Lia asked in a high, scared voice.

"I don’t think so, Lia," Kron replied. "But let’s not stay here in case she does. Besides, your parents are worried about you."

Lia looked a lot like her mother, Kron realized as he stared into her large brown eyes, flecked with green and gold. And just as Sal-thaath had turned out to be as cruel as his mother, so Lia would probably grow up to be as pretty and friendly as her own mother. No matter what Sal-thaath, Salth, or any other magician thought about Nils, he had saved something precious after all.

Some of Kron’s guilt and grief faded. He had protected those who truly needed him the only way he could have. And he’d do it again if he had to.

Holding Lia close to protect her from the cold, Kron pushed again though the still-open portal to home.

Sandra Ulbrich started her writing career in high school, when she made up her own lyrics to songs. She soon graduated to writing sonnets, villanelles, and free verse. After obtaining her bachelor's degree in molecular biology/English and a Master of Technical and Scientific Communication degree, she worked as a teaching assistant, a science writing intern at the National Cancer Institute, a technical writer, and a proofreader. She is currently a lab technician at an enyzme-producing company. In addition to writing poetry, Sandra has also written a fantasy novel called Day of All Seasons, which has been submitted for publication. She is currently writing a sequel, called Fifth Season. When not writing, Sandra enjoys listening to classic rock (especially the Beatles), reading, gaming, attending cons, and chatting with her friends.