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was clear to Carensa that the older mage was treading carefully, although with Quintrel’s temper of late, it was difficult to know what might send him into a rage.
    “You’ll be going to Torsford, to set up the new University there,” Quintrel replied blithely. “When Rostivan has need of you to accompany his troops, you will go with him—and report back to me. Rostivan will be here tomorrow to gather you and your things. Take everything; you probably won’t be returning to Valshoa.”
    “Why not?” Carensa asked, trying to hide her confusion and alarm.
    “Because I intend for our mages to return to the outside world and claim our rightful place,” Quintrel said. “Oh, I’ll leave a few here to maintain Valshoa in case we should need access to the meridians and nodes here, but I don’t believe we’ll need to hide here once Rostivan secures power—and we have a new anchor for the magic. With a stronger anchor, the magic should lose its brittleness, and our power will be secure,” he said with a triumphant smile.
    Before any of the stunned mages could think of another argument, a man cleared his throat behind them. Carensa and the others turned to see General Dolan of the Knights of Esthrane standing in the doorway.
    “A word with you, Vigus.”
    Quintrel looked annoyed. “It’s not a good time, Dolan. I’m instructing my senior mages.”
    “I’m of the opinion you’ve been avoiding my messages,”Dolan replied. “I’m afraid this cannot wait. I’ve come to tell you that the Knights of Esthrane are leaving.”
    Quintrel looked as if he might explode. “This is entirely unacceptable!” Vigus Quintrel adjusted the spectacles on his thin nose. “Completely unacceptable!”
    “We made no guarantee that the Knights of Esthrane would remain in Valshoa forever,” Dolan replied. Though he was a centuries-old
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warrior-mage, Dolan looked no older than his late thirties, with dark hair cropped short in a soldier’s cut and a body toughened by war. Everything about his manner made it clear that he was a man who was used to being in command.
    “We had an arrangement,” Quintrel shot back. He stood a head shorter than Dolan, with a bald head and a slight build. The quarreling pair reminded Carensa of two dogs warring for dominance. Quintrel was one of the most powerful mages in Donderath. Dolan was a mage in his own right, and
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, giving him the additional abilities of the undead. A duel between them would be catastrophic.
    “All things end,” Dolan replied. “My soldiers have deliberated the matter since McFadden raised the magic. We have been in exile for two generations. The reason for that exile is gone. Donderath would benefit from our return as peacekeepers.”
    “And kingmakers?” Quintrel challenged. “That’s your plan, isn’t it?”
    Dolan looked askance at Quintrel. “What interest do we have in mortal kings?”
    “Plenty, when they hunt down and murder your Knights,” Quintrel snapped. “Is McFadden to be your puppet king?”
    “You waste my time,” Dolan replied. “Remain in Valshoa, if that’s what you want. It has been our prison long enough. My Knights are readying for departure. I came to give you thecourtesy of supplying notice. It was not my intent to ask your permission.”
    “Then go,” Quintrel’s expression was ugly. He turned his back on Dolan. “You’ll quickly find that the world outside is no kinder than when you went into exile.”
    “I did not expect to find kindness,” Dolan replied. “I expect to be useful. We will depart shortly.” With that, Dolan strode from the room.
    Carensa traded a nervous glance with Jarle. Quintrel’s mood, mercurial at best, was certain to turn vicious after such a public loss.
    For several minutes, while Carensa and Quintrel’s senior mages waited nervously, the master mage said nothing. He paced the small room, head down, hands clasped behind his back. From his facial expressions, it was clear he was having