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know that there was great power associated with this altar, if we can still detect its traces
after hundreds of years. Who knows what we might unleash if we go experimenting
without suitable preparation? We've time to go slowly."
Joram glanced apprehensively around him, casting a furtive look into the shadowed
spaces above their heads, then turned back to Camber with a shudder.
"I'm glad you're the one who's insisting on caution this time," he murmured. "I was
beginning to think I was the only one to get occasional attacks of the shivers. Let's get out
of here, can we? I suddenly feel really uneasy."
With a slight smile, Camber turned and led the way out of the chamber, across the
rubbled, dust-covered floor and through the ruined doors. Down the collapsed passage
they walked in silence, stopping finally in the plastered alcove where the Portal had
brought them through before. Again Camber took a place behind his son, this time only
laying an arm around his shoulders. Immediately he felt Joram's mind go slack and open,
inviting a blind, trusting link such as he rarely permitted.
With a comforting surge of affection and protection, Camber wrought the Transfer link
and pushed the two of them through. Both men blinked as they emerged in the day lit
tower again, Joram stumbling a little in the transition back to reality. They surprised an
unsuspecting Guaire, who had just been leaving what he had thought to be an empty tower
chamber.
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"Your Grace!" Guaire's gasp was involuntary, the young man immediately settling as he
realized what must have happened.
With nonchalant ease, as if he were in the regular habit of appearing out of thin air,
Camber signed for Joram to refill their abandoned wine cups, blocking Guaire's view of his
son so that Joram would have time to recompose his expression. Camber's manner was
casual and disarming, confidently proclaiming the everyday as he nodded
acknowledgment to Guaire's astonished bow.
"Oh, there you are, Guaire. Sorry if we startled you. Joram and I were just reminiscing
about the old days, and got a little, carried away, I'm afraid. Frivolous, perhaps, but we
seemed to have the time."
Guaire bowed again, his expression shifting to one of amused understanding. "No
apology necessary, Your Grace. I only came to tell you that we will be able to leave in the
morning, after all. Apparently the seneschal anticipated Your Grace's summons far better
than we thought."
"Excellent," Camber said. "And the supper arrangements for this evening? I don't know
about Joram, but I'm starved."
"In preparation, Your Grace. And hot baths are being drawn even now."
"Thank you. We'll be down directly."
As Guaire bowed once more and disappeared down the spiral stair, Camber sat down
beside Joram and took up the cup of wine waiting for him. Joram had already drained his
own, and was pouring a second.
"That could have been tricky," Joram said, when he was certain Guaire was well out of
earshot. "Does he suspect anything?"
Camber shook his head. "He's fairly used to my Deryni wanderings by now. There are
several other Portals in the house. When will you next see Evaine and Rhys, by the way? I
meant to ask earlier."
"They're at Caerrorie now, so I presume it will be sometime next month. I promised
Cinhil I'd deliver you to Valoret first."
"Fine. That will give me time to get a few things together for you to take to Evaine. I'm
going to need some help with the translation on some of the scrolls I've found."
Joram could not control a grin. "Are you sure you want to trust her with such things?
Remember what she did with the Protocol of Orin, the night you integrated Alister's
memories."
"Ah, yes." Camber smiled in recollection not of the incident itself, but of their three
retellings of the event. "I really must ask her more about that some day. I've never heard of
anyone taking another shape without a model to work from and certainly not one of the
opposite sex." He shook his head.
"But, to answer your question, I see no problem. We're going to be working with
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