The atmosphere in the conference room was tense and strained.

     None of the occupants could bear to sit in any of the plush, padded chairs that had been provided for them. Instead they stood, some of them pacing up and down like tigers in a cage. Others chain smoking cigarettes of gli grass; a special variety that had been bred to remove its addictive and carcinogenic ingredients but not its stimulatory effects. One man stood by the long table and picked at his lip, a habit he'd tried hard to break but which returned in times of stress, while a woman standing alone beside him drummed her nails rhythmically on the dark, polished wood, making a noise that was rapidly driving some of the others to distraction. They kept glancing at the door as if waiting for someone to come through it, someone for whom they'd been waiting for far too long.

     All seven people were dressed in clothes of a different colour, although in more or less the same style except for minor changes demanded by the gender of the wearer. A simple one piece garment covered them from neck to sleeves and boots with a belt of pouches and a cape that came to within a few inches of the floor. In addition, they all wore bracelets incorporating large gemstones the same colour as their clothes, which also matched the colour of their eyes. The woman with green eyes and the man with blue eyes both looked fairly normal, but the woman with amber coloured eyes would have aroused instant comment had she appeared in any street on Tharia and the man with the fiery red eyes could have caused a riot with a single angry glance at the wrong man.

     Compared to the occupants, the room was almost normal. Twice as long as it was wide, it had a long wooden table running along the centre covered with papers and reports scattered in disarray, some in danger of falling onto the floor. One of the room's long walls contained the simple wooden door, standing half open to give a view out into a plain, no nonsense corridor. The two short walls were plain and unadorned, and the floor was covered by a simple, uniformly brown carpet. A pair of glowing globes of marble floated near the ceiling, bathing everything in a soft, pearly light.

     It might have been any conference room in any town hall in any universe if it hadn't been for the other long wall. This was a single long window giving a view out over a vast open landscape of fields and rolling hills hundreds of feet below that grew smaller and smaller with impossible distance. There was no horizon caused by the curvature of a planet. The furthest features were hidden only by the haziness of the almost perfectly clear air.

     Finally a man entered. A man dressed entirely in red, with red eyes and whose gemstone, strapped to his wrist, was red as well. Dressed identically to one of the men already in the room, in fact, but different in build and appearance and having none of the other's aura of power and command. This man was smaller, and had a worried, apologetic manner as he bustled in, closing the door behind him. He instantly had the full attention of everyone in the room and they closed in around him with expressions of desperate hope. Even the man in red, although he tried hard to maintain his hard, self assured manner as befitted a man of his position.

     "Well?" he demanded impatiently.

     "Sorry to keep you waiting," said the newcomer. "We spent a long time scrutinising the results, just to be sure."

     He spoke a word, and a strip of light appeared in the air in front of them. A spectrum. Bright red at one end, a dim green at the other. The blue and violet so faint as to be almost invisible. It was crossed by dozens of black lines, some thick and bold, others so faint as to be barely visible. A long white stick appeared in the newcomer's hand as if by a conjurer's trick, and he used it to point to a pair of very fine black lines, close together, in the green part of the spectrum. Amongst all the other black lines, they would have gone completely unnoticed if he hadn't pointed them out.

     "They have grown significantly darker during the past six months," he said grimly. "I'm afraid there is no longer any room for doubt."

     A deathly hush fell around the room. Some eyes widened in fear, some heads drooped in grim acceptance. Only one woman still seemed to have some spirit left; a woman dressed in shining white whose eyes seemed to lack coloured irises altogether, making her gaze extremely disconcerting to anyone who wasn't familiar with her.

     "How long have we got?" she demanded, fixing him with a steely glare as if she suspected that it was all his fault. The newcomer could only shrug helplessly, though. That was a question impossible to answer, as the woman in white had known, of course.

     "So," said the woman in black, whose skin was black as well, and she gave a scared little laugh. "We're not immortal after all. What a disappointment."

     "Maybe we still can be," said the man in blue, though.

     They all spun around to stare at him, but before he could elaborate Thomas Gown started awake, momentarily confused and uncertain as to where he was. Then he felt soft skin against his own and smelled the fragrance of silky soft hair close to his face and it all came back to him. He was at home, in the hidden valley of Haven, in bed with Lirenna, his wife of the past twenty years. She was stirring, awakened by his tossing and turning, and there was just enough silvery moonlight filtering in through a gap in the curtains for him to see her face as she opened her eyes and looked at him. Like all those blessed with shayen blood, she wasn't troubled by any intermediate stages of drowsiness and semi-consciousness. She was fully awake and alert in an instant and studying him with a slight frown of concern.

     "The dream again?" she asked softly, reaching out a pale, slender hand to brush the hair out of his eyes.

     "No, a different one this time," he replied. "It was just as real, though. Just as vivid. There was some kind of a meeting, or an assembly. Lots of important people gathered together. I think they were in some kind of trouble, but I can't remember what."

     She smiled. "At least it wasn't the baby dragons this time."

     "I almost wish it was," he replied. "That dream's always accompanied by a feeling of tremendous pride, satisfying accomplishment. This one, though, there was just fear. Nothing but fear." He shivered involuntarily.

     "It was just a dream," said Lirenna reassuringly. "Dreams are funny that way sometimes. Let me tell you a dream I had once."

     She whispered in his ear, and soon he was giggling and growing red with embarrassment. "You never dreamed that!" he accused. "That's just your filthy, overactive imagination!"

     "And whose fault is that?" she replied, reaching a hand under the bedclothes. "Who taught me everything I know? Who taught me all my bad habits? Want to teach me some more?"

     He didn't need any more urging, he never did, and a moment later the dream was forgotten as they fell into each other's arms.

☆☆☆

     Four hours later it was Thomas who woke up first to find sunlight streaming in through the same gap in the curtains. Lying still so as not to awaken his wife, he looked down at her face, half hidden by some loose strands of hair, and he marvelled again at her more than human beauty. Twenty five years had passed since he had first seen her, in the common room of Lexandria University at the start of their final exams. She had been in her mid sixties then, a mere girl by half shayen standards. Had he not known anything of the fair race, he might have guessed her to be on the young side of sixteen. Now she was approaching eighty. A human woman of that age would have left her youthful good looks far behind, but Lirenna looked, if anything, even more beautiful now than she had then.

     It was a constant mystery to Thomas that such an extraordinary woman should have chosen him, a human of only moderate good looks of whom even the most generous description would have contained only a handful of mild compliments. She could have done so much better, he was sure of it. There were shae folk in Haven, for instance. People of such incredible grace and beauty that Thomas must have looked like a goblin in comparison, but although she was polite to them and obviously enjoyed their company, it was he, the ugly, awkward human, whom she had chosen to marry. It went against all logic and reason! He'd thought at first that it must be something about his personality that attracted her, that she endured his lumpy, hairy body for the sake of his mind, but she had never been sparing with her compliments of his body and she had no reason to lie to him. He was forced to accept the truth of it, therefore, no matter how unbelievable it might be.

     Sounds of movement from the other side of the door told him that their son, Derrin, was up and about, pouring himself a bowl of water for an early morning wash before going out to play. Smiling to himself, Thomas carefully got out of bed, taking care not to awaken Lirenna, and pulled on a dressing gown. He left the room, closing the door silently behind him, and padded softly down the hall to the washroom where he found his son noisily splashing water over himself and scrubbing himself with a soft brush.

     The wizard paused in the doorway to look at him, a smile of deep satisfaction and pride on his lips. He was struck forcibly, as he always was, by the sheer perfection of his body. The shape of his calves and ankles, the curve of his spine. The way his shoulder blades moved under his skin as he raised his arms to drip water onto his upturned face. He was perfect! Just perfect, and Thomas felt his chest swelling until he thought it would burst from the magnitude of the pride he felt. My family, he thought. Even after so many years the sound of it still felt strange in his head. My family! My home! What have I done to deserve this?

     Although the boy was sixteen years old, a human would have taken him to be no more than nine or ten due to the shayen blood he'd inherited from his mother. He had his mother's silky dark hair, which was cut so that it hung an inch or so below the nape of his neck, and he had his father's eyes. A dark midnight blue that already had an almost hypnotic effect on everyone he turned them on. A foretaste of what the local girls had to look forward to in the years to come.

     He was slender, graceful and agile with an almost perfect sense of balance that enabled him to scamper up the tallest, smoothest tree like a squirrel and walk confidently along a rope stretched high above the ground with the practised ease of a trained acrobat. A habit he enjoyed but which had almost given his father a heart attack the first time he'd caught him at it. He loved swimming, being able to slip smoothly across the crystal clear waters of lake Aleena like a dolphin, and had night vision almost as good as his mother's, having repeatedly demonstrated the ability to spot foxes, hedgehogs, shrews and other night animals by the warmth of their bodies while Thomas was forced to grope his way around like a blind man. He was superior to his father in almost every measurable way, leaving Thomas breathless at the idea of the life the boy had to look forward to, the achievements he might attain. It was only in comparison with pureblooded shae folk that he was found wanting in grace and beauty, although Thomas thought that the ambition and sense of purpose he'd inherited from his father set him above them as well.

     His birth had been both a joy and a surprise to his parents, as mixed marriages very rarely produced any issue, and they both knew that it was very unlikely that Derrin would ever have any brothers or sisters. His name was a compromise. Thomas had wanted to name him Derek after his father, but Lirenna had wanted to call him Intar after one of her shayen ancestors. After some discussion they had eventually agreed to combine the two names to make one that sounded acceptable among both humans and shae folk and now, sixteen years later, they both agreed that the name suited him better than either of their original choices. He looked like a Derrin beyond any doubt. Something about his short, stubby nose and the mischievous, inquisitive smile that sat almost permanently on his lips. His appearance and mannerisms fitted the name so perfectly that they couldn't imagine that they'd ever wanted to call him anything else.

     Derrin grabbed a towel from the rack and began vigorously rubbing himself dry, noticing his father watching him as he did so. "I’m going fishing with Albert after school on upday, Dad," he said without preamble, tossing the towel back on the rack with a flick of his wrist. "I was going to tell you yesterday, but…”

     Thomas nodded. He’d been in his study when the boy had gotten home from school and had stayed there, lost in his researches, until the boy had gone to bed. Lirenna had told him he was there when she’d brought him his dinner and he’d promised to come out and see him, but the books he’d been studying had seized his attention again and both the boy and the slice of pie had been forgotten.

     “That's alright, isn't it, dad?” asked the boy, studying him carefully with his luminous blue eyes. “Albert says he’s found a spot near the silverleaf grove where you can catch whitebacks without even trying!"

     When the boy had been younger he’d discovered that he could get pretty much anything he wanted with his big blue eyes. He'd learned how to use them before he'd even started to walk and although Thomas had promised himself again and again that he had to be a little firmer with him for his own good, he’d almost always found himself giving in while grinning in delight at his son's sheer enthusiasm and joy of life.

     Now, though, he found himself frowning doubtfully. “Silverleaf grove?” he said. “You want to go fishing in Lake Hew?”

     “Is that alright?”

     “It’s five miles away. What's wrong with Lake Telwin?”

     “I always go to Lake Telwin. I know every inch of it.”

     “If you want to be back before dark you'll barely have time for an hour's fishing.”

     “I don't have to be back before dark…”

     “Yes you do. I know this is Haven, I know it's safe here…”

     “Dad! How many times have we had this conversation?”

     “Then you know how the rest of it goes. I know you’re sixteen years old, and I know that that would make you almost an adult if you were human, but you're only part human and your body is still so small and helpless…”

     “I'm top of the class in maltano class.” He struck a classic attack posture with hands outstretched as if about to fight off a gang of vicious outlaws.

     Thomas knew his son excelled in self defence, and even if he hadn't seen him practicing, the hard callouses he felt on the edges of the boy's palms when they held hands would have told him so, but he was still so small… “Your body is developing more slowly than the body of a human…”

     “But my mind isn't,” Derrin replied. “You told me that yourself. You said that I have the mind of a human sixteen year old.”

     “But only the body of a ten year old. I know this is Haven, I know it's safe here, but the fact remains that, if you go to Lexandria to become a wizard, you'll have to go out into the real world where it isn't safe. I want being careful to be such a habit that you do it unconsciously. I want you to be so in the habit that it's impossible not to be careful. You understand?”

     “I understand,” the boy replied, smiling. “And I promise to be careful.”

     “So you'll make sure you’re back before dark. Right?” He stared at his son, pleading with him with his eyes. “Right?”

     “What if we go next highday? We can set out first thing in the morning, have a whole day's fishing and be back before dark.”

     Thomas smiled with relief. “I think highday would be a much better idea,” he said.

     They both laughed together. “And I'll be careful,” the boy added, stepping forward to put his arms around his father in a hug. “I promise.”

     Thomas nodded, breathing a sigh of relief as he hugged him back. At least that was one thing he didn't have to worry about. Like all shayen children, Derrin never broke a promise. Never. It was an important part of shayen culture that Lirenna had made especially sure that her son knew and respected.

     The boy made to leave the washroom, heading back to his room to dress, but was frozen in place by the firm visage of his mother who'd appeared behind Thomas wrapped in a bedsheet that she held shut with one hand. "Derry, why haven't you taken a clean pair of briefs?" She pointed a slender finger at the items of newly washed clothing suspended from the ceiling by magic spells, drying in the air that breezed in through the small open window high up in the wall. "You're not going to wear the same pair two days in a row, are you?"

     They're comfy," the boy protested. "I like them."

     "They're all the same. They all feel the same."

     "No they don't. I can tell the difference. None of the others are as comfy."

     "You can put them back on when they've been washed. Now take a clean pair."

     The boy nodded reluctantly and jumped up to snatch one of the tiny, cotton garments out of the air, slipping into them before going back into his room. He really could tell the difference, of course, even though the only difference between his favourite pair and all the others was that they'd been made from cotton grown in a different year. Lirenna smiled in wonder. Some men could tell the vintage of a fine wine from a single sip. Derrin could tell the vintage of a cotton garment from the feel of it against his skin.

     Thomas turned and gave his wife a firm hug, which she returned fondly. "Happy wedding anniversary, Mrs Gown," he said, emphasising the sentiment with a firm kiss.

     "Happy anniversary, my husband," echoed Lirenna, her face tilted up to look at him. Somewhere they had a box she could stand on so she could kiss him without getting a stiff neck, but she didn't want to leave his side right now, not even for the brief moment it would have taken to fetch it. In bed was different, of course. They were both the same height lying down. "Twenty years," she murmured happily into his shoulder.

     "It doesn't seem possible," agreed Thomas, bending his face down to smell her hair. "Twenty years! Twenty years today!"

     "Want to celebrate?" she suggested, smiling up at him mischievously.

     "Gods, woman, you're insatiable!" exclaimed Thomas in disbelief. "We've 'celebrated' twice last night already! I'm not as young as I used to be, you know."

     "Good things come in threes," replied the demi shae, reaching under his bathrobe. A moment later, both bathrobe and bedsheet fell to the floor and Derrin, looking out through his still open bedroom door, raised his eyes to the heavens is exasperation before closing the door to continue dressing.