“You spoil him. I now have a mage-finder who spends his days lolling with the swine and begging caresses from a woman.” Gurn snorted into his tea cup, and Silhara raised an eyebrow. “Not that I blame him for the last.” “I’m confused, Master. Do you speak of the failures of men or dogs?” He almost choked on the second piece of orange and spat it onto the floor. Martise’s face blurred as his eyes watered. Gurn chuckled. His apprentice watched him, her copper gaze steady. For a moment Silhara caught a gleam of teasing humor in her eyes before it vanished. “Does it matter? We’re often one and the
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