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“What’s this? Were you lying to me?” demanded the enraged tumanhofer.

“No.” Bardon leaned forward from where he sat watching the two. “He has always learned at a phenomenal rate. Didn’t the meech you encountered in Punipmats exhibit incredible mental abilities?”

“They were intelligent, it’s true,” Bromptotterpindosset admitted. “But I didn’t actually observe them learning what they knew.” He glared at Regidor, then shook his head and looked back at the map.

“So how is it, Wizard Regidor,” asked Bardon, “that you have spent so much time in this region?”

“I’m searching for the lost meech colony.”

N’Rae approached, holding hands with Sittiponder and Ahnek. Holt followed, carrying a tea tray. Granny Kye came with Jue Seeno’s basket over her arm.

A warrior’s battle shield served as the tray, and the cups and plates rattled slightly with a metallic clanking. The teapot was the camp’s tall coffeepot. The tea and daggarts, however, smelled like a real treat that might be served in Dar’s castle.

“So, Regidor, you are searching for your parents,” said Holt as he stood by the table, waiting for Bromptotterpindosset to clear away the scattering of charts. “I’m beginning to feel out of place. I seem to be one of the few on this quest who knows exactly who and where my parents are.”

Regidor stood so that Granny Kye and N’Rae could take the bench he had been sitting on.

“There are fourteen in our party, and only…” The meech dragon paused and leaned over the minneken’s basket. “Mistress Seeno, are you without knowledge of your parents?”

Regidor nodded at whatever the minneken had answered.

He turned back to Holt. “Only five of our members have little or no information about their parents. It would seem you erroneously claim a position of minority.”

“What’d he say?” asked Ahnek, shaking Sittiponder’s arm, but his friend ignored him.

“I have a father,” said the young tumanhofer.

“You do?” exclaimed Ahnek. “Where is he?”

“Everywhere. My Father is Wulder.”

The mapmaker nodded. “A quaint term used in many traditional circles. You are from Vendela, am I not mistaken?”

“I am,” answered Sittiponder.

Granny Kye poured a cup of tea and handed it to Bromptotterpindosset. He accepted with an inclination of his head. “I have always considered it odd that the ‘City of Enlightenment’ clings to the older traditions of the Tomes.”

Bardon frowned and reached into his pocket. His fingers found the coin Paladin had given him, and he pressed it against his palm. The cold metal chilled his skin as he watched the mapmaker pass a plate of daggarts to N’Rae.

Bardon exchanged glances with Regidor as the well-traveled tumanhofer talked of various cultures and their similarities.

“Don’t be so alarmed, Bardon. He can still be of use to us even if his beliefs are tarnished.”

The coin is cold in my hand. Paladin said to shun those people who did not have a heart for our quest.

Regidor’s eyes returned to the pleasant tableau of an afternoon tea. “What are you going to do? Put him on a dragon and send him back to Wittoom?”

Perhaps. We needed Bromptotterpindosset to translate the diary. Now you can do that.

“Yes, but the diary belongs to the mapmaker. If he goes back, the diary and his maps go with him.”

I believe Wulder would take us to the resting place of the lost knights without Bromptotterpindosset.

“In theory, so do I, Squire.”

Bardon paused, mulling over the scene his announcement to ban the mapmaker would cause. His nose wrinkled in distaste. I should challenge Bromptotterpindosset now and make arrangements for his return tomorrow.

Bardon started forward, but Regidor put a forefoot on his arm.

“Don’t act rashly, my friend. Give yourself time to consider what Wulder would have you do.”

It seems pretty clear cut to me. Paladin gave me a coin to help me discern the hearts of men. He said to shun those who cause the metal to cool. He paused, rubbing the late-afternoon stubble on his chin. Regidor, what do you see in