held her hand in mine as we walked to my father’s tree. The day was pleasant, the sun strong and the wind warm with golden pollen. She unbound her braid, and her hair laughed about her face. The walk passed faster than it ever had with Kean.

When we reached the end of our walk, I drank the manna, and rested my head on her lap. My vision faded and I found myself before my father’s yew tree, its fruit blazing like a host of fiery eyes.

“My son! You have returned! And so soon!” It had been over four months, hardly a short time, but I only nodded.

“I have a problem, Father, and you are the most knowledgeable wizard I know.” Not necessarily true, but I had my own reasons for not approaching Kean or Dalbach.

He stroked his beard. He said, “No need for flattery. But you are correct.”

I told him of the test of magic. He snorted. “Why do you care what a blacksmith believes?”

“Well, he’s my friend.”

“Not much of one. If I tried to convince every idiot I knew, then I’d have accomplished nothing. And the same will happen to you.”

Sensing it a waste of time to argue with him, I nodded.

“And he can’t be that close of a ‘friend’ if you’ve been traveling for such a short while … unless?” He cocked one bushy eyebrow and scowled.