was trying to contact him.

"No. We allow the men of science to see only what we choose for them to see. Kneel before me. Bow your head. Honor the ritual. You do not need to speak; I can hear what is in your mind."

Bemused, Van did as he was bid. Obviously someone had made a shrewd guess about his reaction.

"Enhance my fire."

Van concentrated. Fire, fire, light my hearth, he thought, remembering the spell.

The flames rose in the hearth. He had done it!

"Thank you, Van," V said, his voice stronger. But why didn't the voice wake Violet?

"I have put a sleep spell on her. There is something I must clarify for you, because time is short. You are correct about her; she feared becoming a pariah when she lost her man, and she is desperate to make this house whole again. Her discretion can not be trusted; her need overwhelms her judgment. But she is a good woman, and will make you a good wife; when you are one of us, she will always appear to you as she did last night, and will need no love spell. The question is whether you will make her a good husband."

If this was not a speaker in the statue—if it really could read his mind—it would know when his thoughts took a different tack. Green monkeys and purple slime, he thought.

"I will indulge you, Van. You are testing me. You are thinking 'Green monkeys and purple slime.' While I deplore such artificial mechanisms, the press of time requires that I satisfy you quickly, so that you will heed my warning. Try another test."

Either this thing really could read minds, or he was suffering a hallucination. The Colonel had said nothing about this! But since he was supposed to find out exactly what was happening here, he would play the game. I am a spy from the outside world. Tell me what's going on here.

"Now that's direct! But it is no news to me. Of course you are a spy; we knew that the outsiders would realize that their sensors are not doing the job. You are the only one sent in; by elimination, you have to be their agent. Try me on something else. Then I will tell you what is happening here, and deliver my warning."

Brother! Could he trust any of this? He could at least make it difficult. Have Violet wake, and come to kiss my hand, and return to sleep without a word. If that happened, either V

had the powers it claimed, or he, Van, was hopelessly lost to reality.

Behind him, Violet stirred. Van did not move. She walked sleepily across the chamber and knelt before him. She was lovely. She leaned forward, took his right hand, brought it to her lips and kissed it. In the process her nightie, which had reappeared opaque, fell low, so that he saw her fine breasts. He experienced an involuntary thrill of passion.

"Already you are seeing her as you want to," V remarked.

Violet got up and returned to the bed.

Phew! Hallucination or no, Van had the urge to go and resume their activity of the night.

"You may do that in a moment. She will welcome your attention. I should clarify that in her prior life she was as you first saw her, unattractive to men. The love spell is a blessing to her. She will love you truly, if you become one of us. This is one of the things we offer you."

But you are suggesting that magic works!

"Magic does work, here in this colony and in the world it emulates. It is your science that is foreign to us. We must come to understand it, for it is dangerous. This colony will be the mechanism by which we learn. But for you, who are new to magic, there are formidable dangers. We can not let you go loose in our world. Even here in the colony we must protect you. That is why the spirits of the hearth are in every home. We advise our families so that they can survive and prosper. You must heed me not from any subservience, for you are the master here, but because I know the ways of magic you do not. I will keep you safe."

"You can control my mind?" Van asked, no longer bothering to focus thoughts instead of words.

"Only to the extent you wish. I caused you to adopt your V name as your identity, so that you could come under my protection. You can reject it, but then I will be unable to help you."

That was right! He had been Duff, until his first session with V. Then he had been Van, and he hadn't even noticed the change. "I am Duff," he said firmly.

There was no response from V. The statue was merely a statue.

Violet woke. "Something's wrong!" she exclaimed. She walked unsteadily across to Van.

He looked at her. She was in her nightie, but in other respects she had changed. Her hair hung in lank tangles across harsh features, and her body was pear shaped with breasts that sagged without a bra. The spell was off.

"Oh, Van!" she cried. "You've reverted!"

He realized that he himself was not any great prize as far as appearances went. He had dated, but women had not taken him seriously. He was not tall, handsome or muscular, and he did not scintillate with social wit. That was why he preferred the worlds he found in the great fantasy sagas. There, at least, he could pretend.

He was not sure how she saw him, but if last night was an indication, he was as attractive for a man as she had been for a woman. That had been one potent combination!

To hell with reality! He preferred the illusion.

"I am Van!" he said, and willed it so.

"You can indeed nullify my power," V said. "You must be of my clan, or I can have no effect on you. But it is not kind to do this to Violet, who wants only what is best for this house and family, as well as love."

Van stood and took Violet in his arms. She was beautiful again. "I'm sorry," he murmured to her. "I had to know. I will join you in a moment, after I finish talking with V."

"Oh, I'm so relieved!" Then she kissed him, and he felt the magic of her passion.

She returned to the bed, and he knelt again before V. "I am sorry I doubted you. Tell me what you want me to know."

"Be silent. Do not speak aloud what I tell you, for this must be private from the devices of this world. They can not hear me, for they are not attuned to magic."

Van nodded. This might be his hallucination, but it made sense not to blurt out his craziness for the recorders.

"I can read what is in your mind, when you are here and when you wish it. I can make your home life nice for you, and for all members of the household. But my power does not extend to others, who will see you as your world does. When you go out of this house I can enable you and Violet to see each other as you wish, but you are the only ones who will. It is similar with the hearth spirits of the other houses. Outside you will have to speak in voices to others, and they will seem comparatively drab. But all of them understand about this, and are tolerant. All know that there would be no home life at all without acceptance of the hearth spirits. So your bond with Violet is your guarantee of your commitment to this community. You will not have any interest in the women of other homes, except as associates in the colony, and no other man will have interest in Violet. There is no marital discord here, and there is no conflict between members of the colony. This is what our magic provides for you."

I love it, Van thought. A woman who seemed beautiful only to him, while other women seemed beautiful only to their men. What a way to eliminate temptation!

"But you must settle with the dragon. The dragon will know what is in your heart, as I do not. If you fail the dragon's test, I can not protect you."

Victor! He was killed by the dragon!

"Yes, you are right to be concerned about this. Victor's heart was wrong. He had within him the seed of violence toward his woman and children. He would have destroyed this family and harmed the community. This quality was too subtle for me to grasp at this stage, for I am a limited spirit. The dragon knew, though Victor himself did not, and the dragon destroyed him. All of us were saddened, but it was necessary."

So he had the explanation for the death. But it was not one the Colonel would accept.

"Now you come to take the place that Victor forfeited, and we must know your heart, for we can not accept you otherwise. I want you to pass the dragon's test, for there may not be time to find another man for this house if you are wrong. Explore in your heart: Do you bear any animosity toward women or children? Do you harbor suppressed anger that might be expressed against them?"

Van pondered. He had always been disgusted by wife beaters and child molesters, but how could he be sure he was not one himself, potentially? I have little experience with women and children. I don't think I hate them. My family life was normal. I just—longed for some other kind of life. A life like this. I—I know Violet is not exactly what she seems to me, and that I am not exactly what I seem to her, but I love that seeming. I think my heart is pure, in that respect.

"The dragon will know. Beware his test. If you have any doubt about this, do not face the dragon. Leave this colony and ask the outsiders to send in another spy."

No! I don't want to leave! Van was surprised at his own vehemence, but it was from the heart.

"Then you must take the risk. Your life depends on your heart. Today you can come to know the village and the land. Tomorrow you must face the dragon."

Van waited, but V was silent. "Thank you, spirit of my hearth," he said, and got up. He replaced the cushion, then went to join Violet. She was eager for him, her need for love as great as his own. He realized that she was very like him, in this respect. Now the two of them were each other's fulfillment.

In the afternoon, their amours exhausted, they went out together. Now the villagers were in evidence, as they had not been before. Violet introduced him to any they encountered, but there were too many for him to assimilate all at once. They were at work on their various tasks: Some conjured foods, others conjured beverages, and others were magically fashioning materials for clothing and housing. All this was unnecessary, Van realized, because food, clothing and shelter were provided by the project. Probably the project supplies were being changed in appearance by illusion.

However, some were working on weapons. The spells seemed more complicated for these, and Van wasn't sure what the reality was underlying the swords and staffs and knives. If the culture this village emulated was so peaceful, so in harmony with nature, what was the point of weapons?

"You must find your natural ability," Violet told him. "Then you will be able to contribute your skill to the community. Perhaps the dragon will know."

The dragon. He felt a chill. Tomorrow he would have to face that dragon. But he suspected that no sword would help him there.

"This one's for you," a stout sword-maker said as they approached.

"This is Todd," Violet said. "And Tara." She did not need to say they were a couple; the matching letters made that obvious.

"Hello, Todd," Van said. He turned to the woman. "Hello, Tara." But as he focused on her, he saw that she was no woman but a towheaded girl of about ten. He controlled his surprise, remembering what the Colonel had said. No doubt she looked like a grown woman to Todd.

"And Tess," Violet said, as a child of about three appeared at the door of the house.

There it was again: a small child, where there should be none. Doubly so, in this case: a child with a child. Perhaps a ten-year-old girl could have a romance of a sort with a man, presuming that the dragon didn't consider it abuse. But she couldn't have a baby—and how could there be a three-year-old in a colony which had existed only six months? There hadn't been time for any children to be born, let alone to grow to age three or four. So any way this was figured, it didn't make sense.

"I see you are perplexed," Todd said.

Van reoriented. "Well, I don't know anything about swords."

"About my family. No, don't try to dissemble; you're new here, and it takes a while to get into the way of it. But T told me you were coming. This sword's for you, and my wife will show you where to go with it." He glanced at the three-year-old. "Honey, fetch the harness for him; it's hanging by the mantel."

The child disappeared into the house. "It's too big for her, Todd," Tara said. "I'll do it." She turned to Van. "Come on; I'll put it on you."

Van hesitated. "Go ahead," Violet told him. "You may enter a house at the invitation of its family."

Bemused, he went to the door, following Tara. "I really don't—"

He had to stop, because inside stood a slender but quite mature young woman with silken tresses. She looked like Tara, twice as old. Beside her was Tess, unchanged, but now he saw that she was much like the woman, with similar facial features and almost white hair.

Mother and daughter, obviously.

The woman smiled. "Yes, I am the same person, Van," she said, her voice half an octave lower than before. "Forgive me my vanity; I wanted you to see the real me, so I asked T to show you. After this, you will know me for what I am."

Van lifted his hands in surrender. "A beautiful woman and mother," he said.

She smiled brilliantly and approached him. "Soon you will believe, Van." She reached around him, holding the straps of the harness. Her light perfume made him think of a field of perfect flowers.

Van stood quite still, not daring to do otherwise. It was a back harness, with straps crossing his chest, and her breasts pressed against him as she reached, and her fine hair tickled his nose. She tugged at a strap, tightening it, and he lost his balance and grabbed for her involuntarily, his hands falling on her solid hips and buttocks. She was about six inches shorter than he, though outside she had seemed much smaller, and she was definitely all woman. She was beautiful to the senses of sight, sound, touch and smell. "Uh, sorry," he said, recovering his footing.

"Now you know," she breathed.

"Now I know," he agreed, dazed.

"Mommy did that on purpose," Tess said, giggling.

"I knew that too," he confessed, having to smile. He understood that Tara was not trying to vamp him; she was just making her point. She was absolutely no child, where it counted.

They stepped out of the house—and Tara was the girl again, the top of her short-haired head well below the level of his shoulder. She glanced at him obliquely, and smiled mischievously. Todd and Violet, facing the house, both laughed. They knew what had happened.

Todd stepped up and lifted the sword. He passed it over Van's ear and set it into the scabbard within the harness on his back. Now the sword was angling from his left shoulder to his right hip. It felt surprisingly comfortable, as did the harness.

Todd stepped back. "Now draw it," he said.

"But I don't—I'd only slice off my own ear, trying," Van protested.

"I don't think so. Pretend there's a griffin coming at you. No time to think. Now!" He tossed something into the air, and suddenly a huge bird-headed tiger appeared. It screeched ear-splittingly and launched itself at Van.

Van's right hand whipped up across his chest to his shoulder, where the handle of the sword projected near his left ear. It closed on the hilt and tilted it forward and then down.

The sword slid down and out across his chest as the scabbard pointed up behind him.

Suddenly he was standing with the gleaming blade at the ready.

The griffin squawked with surprise, then dissipated in smoke. It had been illusion. But Van's newfound expertise with the sword wasn't; he had drawn it expertly, and knew he could use it well.

"It's magic," Tess explained. "Daddy makes good swords."

Evidently so. Van lifted the blade and tucked the point into the scabbard. He slid it on in, all two feet. This was some weapon!

"Okay, c'mon," Tara said. "I'll show you the enchanted forest."

Van looked helplessly at Violet. "Go ahead," she said. "She knows the magic better than any of us."

So Van followed the girl out of the village and down a winding path. The trees seemed larger and more exotic than they had the day before, and odd birds flitted through their foliage.

"See, this is what Todd calls our practice zone," Tara explained brightly. "To get the feel of the magic, you know. I'm the youngest of the originals, so I adapted quicker." She smiled impishly. "In fact, this was easier than sex, the first time. I mean, my body was there, but I had no experience at all, 'cause I hadn't had years to get into it. Todd was nice about it, though, and now we've got Tess. But out here it's just magic, and I'm closer to it, with less to unlearn. It's fun."

"I've had one day to get into it," Van said.

"Yeah, 'cause you came in late. Gee, I hope the dragon doesn't fry you!"

"Well, I do have your fa—your husband's good sword to defend me."

"It's no good against the dragon. But out here it's fine. That's the idea: Maybe we'll see something you can use it on."

"But I understood everything was peaceful, here," he protested. "That you don't even kill animals to eat, or cut down trees."

"Sure. We conjure all the food we need. But some animals are mean, so we have to know how to fend them off. Like that griffin Todd conjured. When we go home, griffins will be real."

Van was beginning to appreciate the need for weapons.

They circled around a huge tree, and stopped. There was a little boy sitting in the path.

The boy jumped up. He was about Tess's age, but there was a pugnacious jut to his jaw and mischief in his eyes. "So you're the new lout," he said boldly to Van.

"Go away, Nothing," Tara said. "I'm just showing him the forest."

"Well, he's new, ain't he?" the boy retorted. "The dragon ain't seen him yet, right? So he can't make me go away."

"Just ignore him," Tara advised Van. "He's just a pest." She walked on along the path, suiting action to word.

But the boy danced around her and returned to the path to block Van. "You don't look like much to me, crap-stuff," he said. "You come to feel up the woman of that freak who got toasted? Dragon'll toast you, tomorrow, for sure!"

"Don't even speak to him," Tara said. "He's nothing but trouble. That's why nobody took him."

"Took him?"

"For their child," she said impatiently. "Like I took Tess. I sure wasn't going to have a daughter the outside way!" She grimaced.

So the children weren't born, they were taken. From the forest, evidently. Adoption was much easier to explain than natural birth. But where had they come from originally? Surely they weren't strays from the normal world!

"You couldn't take anything anyway," the boy said to Van, dancing before him, impeding his progress. "You couldn't take a joke if it bit you in the rear!" He lunged as if to do exactly that.

Van put out a hand to stop him. So the boy bit his left hand instead. Right on the center finger.

Van's breath hissed between his teeth as the pain lanced through his hand. He tried to pull it away, but the boy's little jaws remained clamped. Van couldn't get his finger clear without losing skin.

"You let go of him!" Tara cried. "Leave us alone!" But her plea was ineffective.

Van put the thumb and fingers of his right hand against the sides of the boy's mouth, back far enough to get beyond the teeth. He squeezed, slowly, and the mouth had to open. His finger finally got free.

"Aw, you don't taste good anyway," the boy said. Then he kicked Van in the shin.

Again the pain surged. Van hopped back, grabbing his leg—and the boy rammed a finger at his nose.

But Van was already getting smarter. He ducked his head, dropped his leg, and caught the boy under the shoulders with both hands. He lifted the small body up. "What's the matter with you?" he demanded.

The boy spat at him. The spittle scored on Van's chin. "You're crap!" he cried. "Dumb stupid ugly ol' crap!"

Van was furious, but didn't know what to do. So he set the boy down. "Get out of here," he said.

The boy picked up a handful of dirt and flung it in Van's face.

"That's it!" Tara exclaimed. "I'm going to thump you, Nothing!"

The boy retreated, dancing backward. "Nyaa, nyaa, can't catch meee!" he chanted, putting his thumb to his nose and waggling his fingers at her. "You think you're a woman, but you're just an underaged slut! Just kiddie-porn! I bet that man feels real good, when he—"

Tara lunged at him, but the boy managed to elude her grasp. He turned and darted around a tree whose foliage reached thickly to the ground, forming a kind of hedge.

Tara pulled up short of the curve. "C'mon, we'll take another route," she said. "I'm acting violent, and I shouldn't. T will reprove me. After tomorrow, you'll be able to drive him off too. He's such a pest."

Van had to agree. His finger and shin still hurt, and the spittle remained on his chin. He wiped it off with his fingers. What possessed the boy to be so obnoxious?

They started back along the path, the way they had come. Then there was a scream, coming from the direction they were not following.

"Something's happened to that boy!" Van said.

"Oh, darn," Tara agreed. "We'd better look."

They reversed course and went around the bend. There was the boy, standing terrified before a monstrous dog. The dog had his teeth locked onto the boy's robe, holding him with one head, while the other head licked its jaws and sniffed the best place to bite first.

Van drew his sword. "Turn loose that boy," he said.

"What is this brat to you?" the free head inquired growlingly. "Many times has he teased me, and now I have caught him, and I shall make a messy end of him."

"It's wrong to eat a human being," Van said, somehow not surprised that the creature could talk. He had already seen other magic as surprising as this.

"It may be wrong by your definition, but not by mine," the dog said. "This place will be better off without this obnoxious cub." The other head hauled on the cloth, drawing the boy back a step with a frightened cry.

"Let him go," Van said evenly, "or you and I will find out exactly who is the better creature."

"You annoy me," the dog said. His right head jerked up and back, and the boy went flying through the air, to land in a cage Van hadn't seen before. He seemed unhurt, but could not climb out. "Since I see you too are fair game, I will deal with you also, now." Both heads faced Van, snarling.

"Don't try to fight him!" Tara cried. "I forgot that you aren't safe until you have seen the dragon."

"I have this good sword Todd gave me," Van said. "It is magically competent. I should be able to dispatch this animal."

"But the dog is magic too," she said. "He can counter the sword."

Van experienced a chill. He had been trained for combat, and could control fear, but he didn't like going into action against a creature of unknown potential. Yet he didn't seem to have much choice. "I'll just have to risk it." He advanced on the dog.

"Well, it has foolish courage," the left head said. "But it will avail him nothing," the right one said.

Van decided not to wait for the dog to make the first move. He charged, his blade swinging at the left head.

The dog dodged aside, spun, and leaped at Van from the left. Van's blade swung quickly back to intercept the creature's body as he ducked down. But the body dodged in air, avoiding the cut.

It was magic, again. This creature was more formidable than he had thought. Maybe it was unkillable. But he was in this fight, and he had to finish it.

Van stalked the monster, stabbing repeatedly at the heads, first one, then the other, and swinging at both when he had the chance. The body and both heads maneuvered with marvelous cunning, avoiding every attack. But Van refused to quit, fearing that he would be finished if he did. He drove the dog steadily back from the cage. If he could get it far enough away so that he could lift out the boy—

Then the dog disappeared. Van whirled—and spied the animal behind him. Beside the cage.

So that strategy was no good either.

How could he defeat an animal that used magic to get around him, literally? Van stalked the creature again, not with any real hope of success, but giving himself time to ponder. He had had dog-training at one point, and knew how to defend himself from an ordinary canine. It involved padding for an arm to block the dog's teeth, and less polite techniques, depending on whether the dog was to be discouraged, captured, disabled, or killed. All he wanted to do was the first, so that he could rescue the boy. But the dog showed no sign of being liable to discouragement.

Then Van had a bright notion. This was a magic scene. He had nulled the magic before simply by changing his name in his mind. If he could do the same thing here, the scene would revert to reality as this world knew it. Then he should be dealing with an ordinary dog, and that one he could handle.

Duff, he thought. I am Duff. This is reality.

It worked. The spell on him faded. He saw things as they were. The great odd trees became relatively small mundane trees. The dog was an ordinary mongrel. Behind the dog was a crude cage, and in the cage was—nothing.

He was fighting over an empty cage?

Duff looked across at Tara. She remained as she was, towheaded ten. But she was startled.

"It changed!" she cried, alarmed. It seemed that his change had overwhelmed her illusion too.

"This is reality," Duff told her. But he kept a wary eye on the dog. Now he realized that he was carrying a stick. Some sword!

It didn't matter. He threw away the stick and grabbed at his clothing, which was unchanged.

He tore off his robe and wrapped it around his left arm. "Okay, doggie," he said. "Let's settle this my way."

"But you mustn't do that!" Tara protested.

"I'm not going to give way to a dog," Duff said. "I'm going to get him out of here one way or another." He advanced on the dog, who retreated, growling.

"But it only counts if it's magic!" the girl cried.

"Counts for what?"

"For the dragon."

Duff was perplexed. "You mean this is supposed to be some kind of a game, and I have to follow the rules to get points?"

"It's no game," she said. "Please, Van, do it right!"

Duff shook his head, bemused again. He was here to understand these people, so it was indeed better to play by their rules. Without rules, no game worked. So be it.

Van, he thought. I am Van. This is fantasy.

The magic returned. The dog grew larger, and developed two heads. The boy reappeared in the cage. The trees became exotic. And his sword lay where he had thrown the stick, gleaming on the ground.

The dog leaped for the sword. He stood over it. "Now you have lost your weapon, fool," he growled.

Van's robe remained wrapped around his arm. "I don't need it, animal," he replied. "I am going to put you in a headlock and strangle you until you quit." He advanced, his padded arm in front.

"But I have two heads," the dog said. "While you strangle one, the other will bite your face off."

"So it's a fair fight," Van said. "I'll take my chances." Actually he was afraid that the dog could do exactly what he said, but he refused to let that fear show, knowing that it could be disastrous. He had to appear confident. Perhaps he could throw the dog on his back and nullify the other head with a foot.

The dog evidently wasn't certain either. "You have courage, man," he said. "And you do seem to know how to fight my kind. But I also know how to fight your kind, so we do not know who will be the victor."

"We do not know," Van agreed. He charged the dog.

Again the creature avoided him. Van barely kept his footing as he slowed and turned, whipping his padded arm around to counter the expected attack from the rear.

"I do not understand you," the dog said. "Why do you risk your life to save the most obnoxious brat in the colony?"

"Because he is a child, and does not know better. With proper adult supervision, he can learn to be a decent human being. I must see that he has that chance." But as he spoke, he wondered. Tara called the boy "Nothing," and in reality that was what he was: nothing.

There were aspects of this encounter that made description by the term "unbelievable"

inadequate. Yet he had to play the game through, whatever its rules. In the game, there was a boy.

The dog circled, looking for an opening, and Van circled with him, never letting down his guard. It seemed to be a standoff.

"Would you try to raise such a child?" the dog demanded.

That was a challenge of another nature! "I'd hate to try," Van admitted.

"We aren't getting anywhere here," the dog said. "I'll make you a deal: I'll spare the boy and leave you alone, if you adopt him."

Van glanced at the boy in the cage. The boy stuck out his tongue. What an albatross such a brat would be! Yet the offer did have to be considered, because it was a peaceful way out of a violent situation.

"I don't think my wife would agree," Van said. And there was another surprise: He now thought of himself as married to Violet, in the fantasy realm. That was another rule of the game.

"She would agree," the dog said.

"How can you know that? You just want to make trouble in my family."

"She would," Tara called.

The girl had shown him her reality. He could not doubt her word. He sighed. "Then I will make your deal," he said heavily.

"Done." The dog turned and ran away through the forest.

Tara approached. "That was brave and wonderful, Van."

"It was desperation," he replied. "I couldn't get rid of that dog any other way.' He went to pick up his sword.

Tara opened the cage and helped Nothing out. "I guess you think you're pretty noble stuff,"

the boy called at Van. "I guess you think I'm grateful."

"I doubt it," Van said.

"Well, I'm not! I don't even like your stinking house, and I'm not going to do anything you say."

Van unwrapped his robe and put it on. He slid the sword back into its scabbard. Then he came to the boy. "Do you want to walk home with me, or be carried over my shoulder?" he asked evenly. "I'll give you a hint: You will find walking more comfortable."

"Listen, dung-head—" Nothing started. But he had to stop as he dodged out of the way of Van's grasp. "I'll walk."

"Henceforth you will not use language like that," Van informed him as the three of them started back down the path.

"Like what, pee-brain?"

Van lifted a hand. "Like that."

"Yeah? And what're you going to do about it?"

Van set the hand firmly on the boy's head. "I will ground you until you reconsider."

Nothing laughed. "And what will you do when I ignore your grounding?"

"You will not ignore it."

"Or what, slop-face?"

"Or you will cease to exist," Van said. He started to change his name, mentally. Duff.

The boy began to fade. "I got it!" he cried.

"I thought you would," Van said, returning to his real name.

"You have a way with kids," Tara observed.

"It's the military way," Van said. He had simply pictured the boy as a loudmouthed recruit.

There were ways to tame such folk in a hurry, without violence.

Violet made a place for the boy that night. She was thrilled to have a child so quickly, but confessed privately that she had hoped for a girl. "And you have not yet seen the dragon,"