I woke in the middle of the night, apparently for no reason.  My broken hand throbbed a little, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been.  Turning over, I tried to fall asleep again, but my thoughts raced too fast to allow that. Were the majai right?  Should I rename?  The more real it seemed, the less I was willing to.  Should I just go back home?  It made the most sense but it held no appeal, which worried me too.  What if Navarre died?  What if the Seti found me?  What if I went home?

I would accept Marda’s invitation for tea as soon as it was light enough to be up and about.  She seemed like the early riser type anyway.  Thinking of Marda made me a little uneasy too.  She knew more than she’d said, both about me and the Seti.  Of that I was sure. 

It finally seemed to be growing lighter when an icy tingle of the medallion against my chest caused me to sit bolt upright.  My stomach tightened, energy leaving my body in a rush, and I fell back upon the bed.  He had failed.  No, he couldn’t have failed!  He wasn’t supposed to fail!  A part of me wanted to scream, but I just lay there, staring numbly at the wall.  There was just enough light for my eyes to focus on a spider as it walked across the ceiling, but I hardly saw it.  Should I rename now?  I almost wished I had been asleep and not felt the medallion tingle at all. 

The spider moved from the ceiling to the wall, toward a web in the corner.  Clutching the medallion tightly in my right hand, I closed my eyes against the tears that were forming, causing them to run down the sides of my face.  Because I was so distraught, it took several minutes before I noticed the unnatural temperature of the medallion.  It had grown warm.  So warm that it was almost uncomfortable to hold, which is why I noticed at all.  Warm meant that Navarre had succeeded!  But it had tingled too.  Which was I to believe?  I wanted desperately to believe the latter, but what if it was a lie?  It didn’t matter.  Throwing back the blanket in the pale gray light, I hurriedly washed my face, combed my hair, and dressed, slipping quietly out the door.

Hurrying down empty streets, I came to the Medicia, then paused outside, torn by indecision.  It was very early.  Would Marda really be up?  It didn’t matter, I had to talk with someone about my dilemma.  I knocked sharply on the door, the sound loud in my own ears.  No answer.  I tried again, still nothing, and was about to give up when Marda came up behind me from the street.

“Ethereal.  I thought you might come early.  I’m sorry, I had a minor emergency.  A little boy fell from a hayloft and I had to set his broken arm.  Please, come in.”  Marda opened the door to the Medicia and motioned me to the same chair I’d occupied the day before.  Today, the table was cleared of all the bottles and salves that had been there.  “Do you take tea?”

“Yes, please.” 

“I’ll just be a moment.”  She excused herself and hitched up her skirt to climb the stairs.  I heard sounds of glass clinking, water being poured, and five minutes later Marda returned bearing a tray with two mugs of steaming tea.

“Honey or milk?”  I shook my head and Marda smiled.  “Another purist like myself.”

I sipped the tea and it burned my tongue.  It was good, with a mild minty flavor.  Now that I was here, I found I didn’t know how or where to begin, so I took another gulp of the tea, burning my mouth again.

At last, Marda sighed.  “You were so eager to come but now you can’t seem to find your words.”

“What do you know about the Seti and their agents?” I asked.

Marda smiled a knowing smile.  “Ah, now we get to the issue.  Before I can give you the answers you need, I’ll need to know more about how you’re entangled with them.  Let’s start with how you came by your Seti charm you wear and the identity of the man on the other end.”

I looked up at her earnestly.  “Maybe you can tell me.  I know next to nothing about this world or the Seti.  I do know that they’re trying to kill me, but one of their agents found me after I’d fallen off the elk.  He set my hand and led me to Rhir, giving me this medallion.  Later, after Trenwyn warned me about the Seti, this same agent found me and, during the course of our conversation, promised to kill the Seti who know my real name within three days so I wouldn’t have to rename.”

Marda had listened to my story expressionless.  “Why are the Seti after you?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted unhappily.

“Have you ever had any dealings with them, or merely their agent?”

“Not that I know of—besides my initial meeting with the maj who gave me the sign back on Earth.”

“And he’s the one you gave your true name to?”

I nodded.

Leaning back, Marda looked at me skeptically.  “Well, you must have had quite the sign for Trenwyn Matthis to bring you across.  It’s very out of character for him to travel to your world at all, let alone to save somebody, for I assume that was why he went to Earth.”

I had nothing to say to this.

“And what of the Seti agent?  Do you know why he would disobey protocol to give you this medallion?”

 I pressed my lips together.  “I think,” I spoke after a minute, “it’s sort of a rebellion against those who control him.  He’s in a predicament similar to mine, but can do nothing about it.”

“So he is a reluctant agent.  They have his name as well?”

“Yes.”  I drank the last of my tea and set the mug down. 

“Do you know how many majai have your name?”

I shook my head.  “No.  Well, maybe.”  I had come for her help on what to do after what had happened with the medallion earlier, but now felt very reluctant to explain.  It was all very personal somehow.  Marda waited expectantly and at last I sighed.  “When he gave me the medallion, Masad said that if it tingled or grew cold within three days, I should accept the Duri offer to rename, but if it ever grew warm it would mean that he had successfully killed all Seti majai who know my true name.  This morning, early, before dawn, I first felt the medallion tingle and then, a few minutes later, it grew very warm—almost hot.”

Marda was silent for what seemed like an eternity.  She took a sip of tea.  “You’re sure his name was Masad?”

My stomach tightened.  Should I have given her this name?  “Yes.”  I was careful to keep my tone flat. 

“Ethereal, you’re playing with fire.  That man is dangerous.”

“I hope so.” He would have to be dangerous indeed if he were to kill Seti majai.  “He swore to kill them for me.”

“Oh?”  Marda’s eyebrow shot up.

I held up the medallion.  “This can tell the wearer if the one with the ring is lying.”

“Of course.”  Marda seemed impatient.

“He swore to me to kill them while I had the medallion.”

Marda gave me a skeptical look again but said nothing, finishing her tea.  “What will you do now?” she asked at last.  “You felt two different things through the medallion.  Which one do you believe?”

I frowned at the floor.  “I don’t know.  I want to believe he killed them, but I felt both things.”

“At least you know he’s still alive.”  Her voice was bland.

“How do I know this?”

Marda’s eyes were piercing.  “Didn’t you know?  If the medallion goes cold, it means that Masad’s heart has stopped.  As of right now, it’s still beating.”

This revelation sent me reeling.  “Then should I believe he has killed them since the last thing I felt was the signal he told me to wait for?”

“I cannot say for sure, but that seems most logical to me.”

“What does the tingling mean?”

Marda’s strange smile carried a warning with it.  “It means that the bearer of the ring is in pain.”

I swallowed.  What had happened?

“You look pale.  Do you need something to eat?” Marda questioned, not unkindly.

I shook my head, quickly.  “No.  I’m fine.  What does it mean when the medallion grows warm?”  

“Whatever the owner of the ring wishes it to.  He could make the medallion grow warm any time he chooses.”

Then he must have succeeded.  I let out my breath.

“Did Masad tell you much about himself, Ethereal?”

I shook my head.  “There wasn’t much time.”

“But you trust him.”  She seemed surprised. 

I shrugged.  “He had the chance to kill me if he wanted to.  He had a chance to do whatever he wanted.  I was alone and hurt in the forest.  Instead of hurting me he helped me, mended my hand, and guided me to the village.”

            “No wonder the bone was set so well,” Marda smiled.

            “What do you mean?”

            Still smiling somewhat mysteriously, “Masad is one of the best healers I’ve met.  He has a gift.”

            “You’ve met him?”

            Marda chuckled softly.  “I saved his life once.”

            My eyebrows shot up.  “How?”

            “He too had gotten into trouble with the Seti.  They did their best to darken his eyes.”

            “But he’s their agent!” I protested.  “Why would they kill him?”

            She looked at me, incredulous.  “He’s killed some of them for you today.  You think this is the first rebellion he’s staged?  Besides, he’s not loyal by choice.  This means that only those who know his true name can control him.  It wasn’t any of those majai who were trying to kill him.  It was almost two years ago,” Marda continued the tale, “I was gathering herbs when I saw fresh blood on some brush leaves.  I followed the trail of blood until I came upon him.  He was barely conscious and bleeding heavily.”

            “What had happened?”

            Marda’s smile grew cold.  “He never spoke of it, but I deduced quite a bit from his wounds and from my own research afterward.  I believe he’d been ambushed the night before.  His arm was broken and he had an arrow wound through his left shoulder and a deep gash in his leg.  I did what I could for him.  I wanted to bring him back to the village with my horse but he protested so emphatically that I didn’t.  Instead, I stayed with him in the forest for two days, nursing him back to health.  I learned very little from him, save that he was an agent of the Seti.  From the few things he said, I began to suspect that he had been one of the Night Riders.  They’re the elite assassins of the Seti,” she explained.

            “The Seti need assassins?  Aren’t they more than capable of doing their own killing?”

            “Yes, of course, but sometimes it’s tidier and easier to use mercenaries.  This left me with the mystery of why the Seti would turn upon one of their own.  After two days, Masad left me during the night.  I thought I’d never see him again, but he surprised me here the week after. He said that he always paid his debts and he gave me a Seti cloak, something I had been trying to acquire for a number of years, and a rare manuscript detailing some of the dark secrets of that circle.  I don’t know how he knew I would want these things, but they were worth a mountain of gold to me.  Since then, there have been accounts of children out too late, hounded by wolves, being saved by a dark stranger, as well as reports—some from as far as Atleah—of people who have been hurt in the wilderness being healed by a Seti agent.  Few believe any of this, but I’ve spoken with some of these children, as well as a woman who had her leg splinted by the man.  It was Masad.  Exactly what game he’s playing, I do not know, but he is still dangerous.”

            “It seems he’s only dangerous to the Seti, from what you’ve said,” I observed. 

            Marda shook her head solemnly.  “Along with these good reports there are also those who go missing in broad daylight.  Those who have their throats slashed on the Great Road, certain important people conveniently falling off horses and breaking their necks.  The killer is also Masad.”

            I remembered Navarre’s crystal clear, piercing blue eyes.  Those eyes could kill as easily as they could heal.  They had killed.

            “The question remains, Ethereal.  What now?”