The Magehound

Matteo absorbed this in silence. He didn't doubt Tzigone's words. Grim though this explanation was, it did explain why the jordaini were usually stronger in body and mind than the average man, and why their resistance to magic was so strong. But such a price to pay!

He tried to picture the woman who had paid this price for him and the man who had let her do so unwittingly. But it was too strange, too unreal, for him to grasp.

"Have you nothing to say?" Tzigone demanded. "Do you understand now why I wonder what became of my mother in this land of magic and wizards?"

She fairly spat out the last word with undisguised venom. Matteo had been raised to serve wizards, but he didn't find her reaction at all extreme.

"All my life," he said slowly, "I have been charged with developing the strength of mind and body. The passions of man were studied as important strategic considerations, but we were not encouraged to explore or experience any of them."

Tzigone gave him a strange look. "You had friends, surely."

"Yes. But even the closest of these had the careless ease of proximity-or so I thought," he said painfully. "My dearest friend, a jordain named Andris, was condemned by a magehound and slain by the wemic who pursued you the very day we met."

"Ah." Tzigone nodded, as if a long-held question had been answered.

"The grief and guilt that followed my friend's death was my undoing. I acted in a ma

He fell silent for a moment, then added, "This is new to me, and I don't know where it will lead. I should feel outrage, but I do not. I ca

"Even in this you're honest," she said softly, her eyes searching his face. "Maybe that's not always such a bad thing."

They quietly left the cottage, each deep in thought. Tzigone had come to this place intending to tell Matteo the truth: This was the woman who had given him birth. But as Matteo had pointed out, there was no telling what he might do once he got into the habit of allowing emotion into his life. Most likely he would declare vengeance upon the wizard who had sired him. That could lead nowhere good.

Matteo spoke first. "This is why jordaini have no families, is it not?"

"Magic is toxic," Tzigone said grimly. "Apparently it isn't easy to breed magic out of a human, and there is no telling what will come of the effort."

"Precaution is the grandchild of disaster," Matteo said softly, speaking an old proverb. "For such measures to be taken, things must have gone terribly wrong."

"Mistakes happen," Tzigone agreed. She took a long, steadying breath. "I suppose that's the only possible way to explain me."

Chapter Seventeen

Tzigone braced herself for the jordain's questions. To her surprise, she realized that she was prepared to tell him everything she knew about herself and her background, secrets that she had spoken to no one. Matteo had never been less than honest with her. That honesty created a debt, and she always paid her debts.

But Matteo didn't immediately respond to her grim pronouncement. Instead, he took a small tightly rolled scroll from his bag and handed it to her.

She took it and smoothed it flat. The message was brief, and after a moment, she lifted incredulous eyes to his face. "Reads like a death warrant," she said, only partially in jest.

"That was my assessment," he agreed.

Much as she would have liked to, Tzigone couldn't argue. Cassia, the high counselor to King Zalathorm and one of the most powerful jordaini in the land, had enlisted the help of all members of the jordaini order to find information on the whereabouts and background of a thief known as Tzigone.

A strange knot formed in the girl's throat. Matteo had helped her to escape in direct defiance of the rules of his order. For a moment, even Tzigone's nimble tongue seemed weighted down by the enormity of this revelation.

"I thought the jordaini didn't write and send messages," she managed at last

Matteo's faint smile acknowledged her unspoken words. "It appears that in this case Cassia made an exception. I daresay that the jordaini weren't the only people in this city to receive her missive. No doubt it also went to the city guard, town criers, and city Elders."

"There's a personal message on this copy," she said, pointing to the last few lines. The script was written in a different hand and in a shade of emerald ink that few professional scribes could afford.

She read aloud, using Cassia's voice. "I give you fair warning, Matteo, that this young woman is dangerous in the extreme. You have been seen in her company, but henceforth you must avoid her at all costs. She was tested as a child and found to possess great magical talent. She has abused this power and committed a number of crimes. If you wish, come see me after she has been apprehended. You will understand at once, for the secrets of her birth explain all. One jordain ca

"The secrets of my birth," Tzigone said in her own voice, her tone distracted. "Do you think she really knows?"

Matteo looked dubious. "A jordain's word is inviolate. That's what I was raised and trained to believe."

"But?"

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "I have learned that it is possible to deceive without speaking a single false word. You may have noticed that Cassia does not actually claim to possess this information. She merely says that it will answer all. It is possible-possible, mind you-that Cassia sent this note hoping that I would pass it along to you."

"Bait," Tzigone concluded.

"It is possible," he repeated in a bleak tone. He turned his gaze to her. "And now that you have this information, what will you do with it?"

Tzigone was silent for a long moment. "Some of what Cassia says is true. I seem to have some i

"So you have told me," he said in a neutral tone.

"You know I'm a thief." She laughed shortly. "That's nothing to boast of, but you and I are alike in thinking it's a better thing to be than a Halruaan wizard."

"You hate them," Matteo observed. "I would like to understand why."

"You can ask that after seeing what magic did to that poor woman?"

He didn't answer at once, nor did he meet her eyes when at last he spoke. "This process-is it the same for all women who give birth to a jordain?"

Tzigone understood what must be going through his mind. He was wondering if his own mother had suffered a similar fate, and he was picturing her in a similar situation, a prisoner in her own diminished mind. For a moment Tzigone considered telling him that he need not use his imagination, for the worst was his to know.

"I don't know," she said. "Perhaps some women give birth to jordaini without aid of potions and spells."

"Perhaps." He looked up at her, frustration in his eyes. "I wish there were something I could do for that poor woman. No jordain will ever be wealthy. Our expenses are paid by our patrons, though we may receive small personal gifts from time to time. If ever I were to find my mother in such a state, how would I provide for her?"

"You saw the cottages, the gardens. Halruaa ensures that her wizards get what they need. Your mother is well cared for."

For a moment she thought she might have revealed too much. But there was no flash of epiphany in Matteo's dark eyes. He merely nodded as he took in this new information.

There seemed to be nothing more to say. That knowledge dampened Tzigone's spirits more thoroughly than a cold rain.