"Master Gown!" called the scribe secretary, a pretty thing with sandy blonde hair that spread out in a golden fan across the shoulders of her midnight blue shawl. "There's a package for you. Books by the look of it."

     Thomas spun around in excitement and Lirenna, his wife, followed him to the post office; the small alcove fronted by a rosewood desk where all mail entering and leaving the University was handled. The secretary ducked gracefully under the table, rooted around among various drawers and cupboards and produced a package of tough leather tied up with strong cord that the two wizards fell upon as eagerly as starving cats on a mouse.

     "Our spellbooks!" cried Lirenna with equal excitement. "At last!"

     When they'd brought their son Derrin to the University just over a year before to be educated in preparation for his training as a wizard, they hadn't expected to be staying very long. They'd expected to be able to teleport to and from their home in the hidden Kingdom of Haven, visiting their son for a few days every couple of months, and so they'd brought only their travelling spellbooks, leaving most of their books in their cottage. What they'd had no way of knowing, though, was that the whole world had become enveloped by a mysterious magical interference that limited the range of safe teleporting to only a few hundred miles. The several thousand mile jump from Haven had almost killed them, therefore, and realising that regular commuting was impossible they'd sent back a request for the rest of their spellbooks to be sent on to them, only half expecting their letter to survive the long overland journey to the safe house inhabited by one of the few people who knew the true location of Haven. Months had passed, during which they'd had no reply to their request and they'd begun to give up hope, but now, at last, their books had arrived.

     Thomas tore madly at the leather, teasingly exposing the corner of the precious spellbook, but he couldn't untie the string with his fingers so he reached for his penknife. Two slashes and the package fell open, and the two wizards reached eagerly for their books, caressing the worn blue covers with joy and relief. Two of the books were older than the others. Battered and fraying from long use. They were the spellbooks they'd had as apprentices. The books in which they'd written the very first spells they'd ever learned. Thomas thought fondly back to that moment as he lifted the book with loving fingers, remembering the tremendous pride he'd felt. The sense of accomplishment. That had been one of the crowning moments of his life, ranking alongside his wedding day and the day Lirenna had told him that she was expecting his child. Part of his life had gone into that book. A big part, and part of him would die if anything happened to it.

     They'd both long since filled up their first spellbooks, of course, and Thomas was well on his way to filling up his second; a larger, newer book, the spine and corners of which were protected by metal studs. He picked it up, opening it carefully to check that it hadn't been damaged by the journey, and that was when Lirenna saw that there was a fifth book in the package.

     "Why did you send for that?" she demanded, fear and loathing in her voice.

     Thomas put the spellbook carefully down and picked up the fifth book; an ancient and waterstained copy of the Pardatano. The book of secrets or the book of forbidden knowledge, depending on how you translated it. "There are a couple of things I want to check up in it," he replied. "Things I learned in the Southern Continent. It could be important."

     "We wrote the letter just after we arrived here. Months before you went to the Southern Continent."

     "Yes, I know. Look, I know you don't like it, but there are things in here we really need to know about, and I haven't translated half of it yet. It's important, Lenny. I need to do this."

     The demi shae scowled unhappily, but then nodded reluctantly. She trusted her husband. "Just keep it away from Derry. Promise me that."

     "I promise. You know I'd never expose him to anything like this."

     The secretary leaned over the table to look at the book. "That's on the controlled list, you know."

     "I've already registered it," replied Thomas. "Check with the proctors."

     The girl nodded and made a note in a small book.

     "Here's a letter from your grandfather," said Thomas, picking up a folded over sheet of paper sealed with a blob of red wax. "Want to read it now?"

     Lirenna snatched it eagerly from his fingers and broke the seal. It was written in north shayen, a dialect of the shayen language that had, over the centuries, come to include more than a few human terms and expressions and that was therefore regarded as a crude pidgin language by the more racially pure southern shae folk. It was still far broader and more expressive than any human language, though. The number of humans who spoke it fluently was small. Lirenna had tried to teach it to Thomas, but with only limited success, unlike his son who seemed to have a natural gift for languages. Thomas could probably have picked his way through it given a couple of hours, or he could, of course, have simply cast a translation spell on it, but it was still his ambition to speak it as well as everyone else in his family did.

     "Sorry to hear we won't be coming home for a while," the demi shae read, her dark, slanted eyes skimming rapidly across the text. She would reread it more slowly later to absorb every tiniest thought and nuance. "He wishes us all the best and looks forward to seeing the three of us again very soon. Connie and Jack have another baby on the way. This was back in forwinter, sye must have been born by now." She hated calling babies it, as most human languages required, and so used the shayen word sye, meaning a person of unknown gender.

     "What else does he say?" prompted Thomas with a smile.

     She turned the page, and Thomas realised she was only giving him the bare bones. She'd give him a word for word translation later, when they were alone at home, or more likely make him translate it himself as part of his education. "The Baker boy broke one of the windows of our cottage, kicked a ball through it. Hamwin replaced it for us and made the Bakers pay for it." She scanned rapidly up and down the page. "Doesn't say which window."

     "He'd have said if it was one of the laboratory windows," said Thomas, "and the Baker boy would have received a lot more than a cut in his pocket money. Besides, we got Barzon to put strength spells on them. Remember?"

     She gave him a look. She was shayen and she was a wizard. There was nothing wrong with her memory. "They're still breakable," she pointed out.

     She returned to the letter, but the secretary interrupted her. "Could I ask you to sign a receipt?" she asked, pushing a large open book towards them.

     Thomas took the proffered pen and read the entry she was indicating with a slender, sun bronzed finger. Package of books, received from Overgreen Forest, third Firspring 2024. He signed his name after it and handed the pen back. "Come on," he suggested. "Let's go home."

     Lirenna agreed eagerly and carefully folded up the letter before picking up her books.

     The valley was glorious in the spring sunshine. The two suns beamed down out of a cloudless blue sky; one golden and radiant, the other sullen and dull. Not even the angry red glowering of Derro could spoil the special magic of that day, though, and hardly had they left the dark, oak paneled corridors of the divination building behind them than Lirenna was her usual glorious self again, the Pardatano forgotten. She linked her arm through Thomas's and snuggled up to him as they walked, and the laughter and pointing of the apprentices they passed only made her smile wider, so full of joy at just being alive.

     The joy of life was infectious, and Thomas felt his own soul being lifted as well, and for the thousandth time he wondered in sheer bafflement what he had done to be so blessed. To have such a wonderful wife. Such a wonderful son. Such a wonderful life. How can the Gods be so unfair, he wondered, to give me so much when others have so little? But he wasn't complaining, oh no! He laughed out loud, not caring what passers by might think, and Lirenna pulled herself even closer to him. A stray gust of wind blew a few flyaway strands of her silky dark hair into his face, carrying with them the fragrance of the deep, living forest that was always about her.

     So caught up were they in the wonder of the moment that it took them a moment to realise that someone was calling Thomas's name. They paused and looked about, separating a little but still holding hands, and saw a middle aged wizard running towards them, waving a hand to attract their attention. It was Gunther Fugh, the wizard who, along with a trog called Karog, Thomas had rescued from the feared and shunned Southern Continent a few months before.

     Once, he'd been a fairly stout fellow, proud of the belly that had sagged over his belt, but his ordeal at the hands of the savage duhraks had left him thin and wasted. As he'd began to put the weight back on, though, he'd passed through a stage at which he'd regained the athletic figure he'd enjoyed in his youth, firmed up by the muscles he'd developed during his weeks of slavery, and he'd made a real effort to keep himself that way, to prevent himself going to fat again.

     He'd largely succeeded and was still much less full of figure than before his capture. Whereas women now eyed him appreciatively, though, Thomas only felt a pang of guilt at the visual reminder of his ordeal, remembering how, during the very worst moments of the rescue attempt, his courage had almost left him. Remembering that he'd come within a hairsbreadth of running out, leaving Gunther and Karog to their fates. On his return to the valley he'd been terrified of Lirenna's reaction when she learned what a coward she'd married, and he couldn't for the life of him understand how proud and surprised she'd been by what she called his immense courage. His heroic bravery.

     "But I almost ran out and left them there!" he'd protested in mind numbing astonishment.

     "But you didn't," she'd replied, moving eagerly into his arms.

     Gunther agreed wholeheartedly with Lirenna, to the point that Thomas was reluctant to mention it again in case they thought he was fishing for compliments, but in his secret heart he knew he'd chickened out that day. Knew he'd shown a streak of yellow a mile wide. He lived in fear that Lirenna only thought he was brave because she'd somehow gotten the wrong idea of what had happened, and that one day she'd realise the truth.

     Gunther greeted Lirenna warmly and kissed her hand, then turned his attention to Thomas. "I just heard!" he cried excitedly. "They've accepted me on the crew of the Ship of Space! I'm going with you!"

     "Hey, that's great!" replied Thomas as the two wizards gripped each others' arms in delight. "It'll be good to have someone on my side when Saturn gets in one of his moods."

     Although no official announcement had been made, it was the worst kept secret in the valley that the head of the Rossem Project would be aboard, if not as Captain then as a senior officer and certainly as a member of the bridge crew, and privately Thomas was immensely glad of the fact. Saturn was one of the most powerful wizards in the world, and it was hard to imagine a crisis he couldn't handle.

     Gunther laughed. "And guess what? Karog's coming as well. Seems they want a cleric of Calcular aboard, and since he's been in space several times already, he's the natural choice."

     "Plus, they'd be stupid to break up a successful team," added Thomas. "You and Karog work together well."

     Gunther smiled and shrugged. "I wouldn't say that. The last time we went up, we crashed."

     "Not from any fault of yours. Even Saturn knows that. You think you'd be on the team if he had the slightest idea you might have caused it?"

     "I suppose," agreed Gunther. "Who do you think the fourth wizard will be?"

     "Bound to be a senior wizard," said Thomas thoughtfully. "That's how I'd do it. Two young fellows for their stamina and constitution, to do all the hard work and most of the spellcasting, and two older men for their wisdom and experience. Also, Saturn's going to want someone he can relate to as an equal. With you and me, and the mundanes, he has to constantly present a false front, be aloof and superior, but with an equal he can relax and be himself."

     "Could be," agreed Gunther, "but who? No way would Pondar want to go. He's looking forward to the launch so he can get back to his own work. I suppose Clarwin's a possibility..."

     "Clarwin hates flying," pointed out Lirenna with a smile. "Refuses point blank to use a flying carpet. Won't even levitate if he can help it. He suffers from vertigo or something, so there's no way he'll be going aboard a flying ship."

     "How does he get about then?" asked Gunther in confusion. "Suppose he had to go somewhere thousands of miles away, hundreds of miles from the nearest teleportation chamber?"

     "He doesn't travel," replied the demi shae. "Apparently he hasn't left the valley for twenty years. He says he's perfectly happy where he is and sees no reason to leave."

     Gunther shrugged. Such behaviour was unusual but not unheard of. There were wizards in the valley who hadn't left their laboratories for months or years. Some were even reputed to have sealed themselves permanently in dimly lit sub basements, continuing to labour unceasingly on their researches long after they'd been presumed dead and forgotten, although Thomas suspected that it was just a story told to gullible students that had, through years of repetition and embellishment, gained a life of its own.

     "Why do we keep saying he?" asked Lirenna. "There are plenty of female wizards. It might be one of them."

     Thomas smiled. "A woman shut up in a steel can with nearly two dozen lusty men for weeks on end? Maybe months? I don't think so."

     "But no-one would accost a female wizard," protested Lirenna. "She'd turn them all into frogs or something. Besides which, by the time a human wizard reaches the levels of real power they've usually left the fresh glow of youth far, far behind them."

     "Also," added Gunther, "the shayen and moon trog crewmembers will be men and women in roughly equal numbers. What makes us so different?"

     "The shae folk and moon trogs will be going as man and wife couples," replied Thomas. "They can do that, since it's unlikely they'll be leaving the ship before its return, but more than half the humans aboard will be soldiers, in case we see action on the ground, and that means men. The plain fact, I'm afraid, is that humans are different from shae folk and moon trogs. We can't do things the same way they can."

     "I suppose," agreed Gunther reluctantly. "Oh well, we'll find out who the fourth wizard will be soon enough. It won't be long before they publish the primary and back up crews and call us all together to train as a team. We've just got to be patient."

     "I'll be meeting Saturn later," said Thomas. "Maybe I can coax him into dropping a hint. I'll give you a full report next time I see you."

     "Yes, and I'd better be letting you get along," said Gunther, taking the hint. "You seem to have a lot of reading to do and I'll let you get on with it. See you later."

     He kissed Lirenna's hand again and disappeared back amidst the teaching buildings, heading for graduation field and the road leading to the research buildings, where the new test chamber was being readied for another test flight.