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opened a door that creaked heavily and led her to a wooden chair in a room where tapestries muffled echoes and a large fire crackled.
    ‘Now then, Krull,’ said a man’s voice. An older man, his voice used to command. ‘What have you brought us?’
    ‘Will this take long?’ asked a woman, not unkindly. ‘We’re run off our feet in the clinic. I swear every second person in the city has flu.’
    ‘You won’t be long here, Julia,’ said a second man, his voice thin with age, but sure of itself.
    ‘It will take as long as it needs to,’ said a third man, his voice calm, friendly, and just a little bit too smooth to be trustworthy.
    Kael ignored them all. ‘Coffee, Ishtaer?’
    She shook her head automatically, then added, ‘No, thank you, my lord.’
    She heard the glug of liquid and clink of crockery as he poured his own, and the woman’s impatient sigh. Finally, he settled beside her in another chair, and said, ‘You’d best introduce yourselves. Sir Scipius I know, but I’m afraid it’s been a while since I visited the clinic, ma’am.’
    ‘Julia Quintia,’ said the woman.
    ‘Madam Julia, the senior Healer here at the Academy, is that correct?’ Kael said. Ishtaer assumed the woman nodded as there was no rebuttal to this. ‘If she believes your mark to be genuine, she’ll be in charge of your training.’
    Ishtaer nodded. Her eyes were downcast, as usual. She’d been told for too long how annoying it was to have them flickering about all over the place. Best that her lids hid them.
    ‘I am Sir Flavius Fulvius Viator, child,’ said the smooth-toned man. ‘I run the Academy.’
    ‘And also takes charge of all the dull stuff every Chosen needs to know, whether or not it actually relates to his or her field,’ said the elderly man in a quiet tone. ‘I really can’t see how High Ilani is even relevant any more, except as a way of excluding those who don’t know it. To which end, I might as well call myself simply Killen.’
    ‘I am Sir Scipius Durian Militis,’ said the man who’d spoken first, ‘and I’ve no idea what I’m doing here. Why am I verifying the marks of a woman, Krull?’
    There was a pause, during which she heard Kael swallow and set down his cup. ‘The same reason Madam Julia is here,’ he said.
    Another pause. ‘She has a Healer’s mark also?’ Madam Julia said. She made a noise of annoyance. ‘You know there’s no way to test if her Seer’s mark is real.’
    ‘No. But just as you can test if she’s a real Healer, Sir Scipius can test,’ here he took Ishtaer’s wrist and pushed up her sleeve, ‘if she’s a real Warrior.’
    Someone sucked in a breath. Someone laughed softly.
    ‘Is this a joke, my lord?’ asked Madam Julia.
    ‘If it is, then it’s on me as well,’ Kael replied smoothly. ‘And you know I’m not fond of being laughed at. I found her with these three marks. I’ve seen her heal herself so I’ve no reason to distrust that mark, and she’s shown a little aptitude with a sword, although in her present sorry state it’s rather hard to tell what she might be good at. You’ve no idea how to stand up for yourself, have you, Ishtaer?’
    ‘And I don’t suppose you’ve had any handy visions that have come true, have you, child?’ asked Killen.
    Ishtaer shook her head.
    ‘But,’ said Sir Scipius, ‘a woman. A woman Warrior?’
    ‘Just because it’s never happened before doesn’t mean it can’t happen in the future,’ said Sir Flavius.
    ‘Yes, but that would make her Thrice-Marked,’ said Madam Julia tensely. ‘It’s impossible.’
    ‘Merely implausible,’ said Killen.
    ‘Who are you?’ asked Sir Flavius. ‘Who are your people? Are you related to Lord Krull?’
    ‘Gods, I hope not,’ Kael said, and against all her expectations, that hurt Ishtaer. ‘Sirs, Madam, may I present Tyro Ishtaer ex Saraneus Medicus Militis Aspicio prior Inservio.’
    ‘Yes, but,’ began Sir Scipius, and then he went silent.
    ‘Inservio?’ asked