Morning, cold and damp, stirred sluggishly across Kinarthen, the capital of the human realm of Cia'neth. My name means 'child of Cia'neth' in its full form, but given my somewhat uneasy relationship with that realm, I shorten it to Cian as often as possible. I woke when the curling mist crept into my chambers and touched my face, jumping upright with a nasty start. The fog always feels disconcertingly like fingers, I find. Getting out of bed I went over to the window, wrapping my arms around me to try and conserve my warmth as I looked out over my sporadic home. By sporadic I mean that I live there , as little as possible, really. The Human Court and I don't mix well. In fact, we don't mix at all. I'm too good at being a mage, you see- they like mages who can make pretty lights and spangly noises all the time, but I don't do that very often. Not for them, anyway.

Despite my dislike for the people who live there, I have to admit that Kinarthen is a pretty beautiful city. It's all white and shiny, made of the natural marble, and gleams a lot. From my high room I could see the domes of the many temples that are scattered through the city, the minarets of the various rich mansions in the more respectable quarters, and the flat roofs strung across with laden washing lines in the poor districts. The Palace, where I was, was the most spectacular building in the place, predictably, covered in twirly bits of architecture that must have left the chief builder sobbing into his hands, and is built on both sides of the high narrow valley that contains the city. The buildings on either side are connected by thin airy walkways of the same marble, that glitter like dewy cobwebs in the early morning. The valley runs east to west, so the city looks best at sun-up and sundown.

Humming absently to myself I wandered through the low archway into my bathroom, a tiled room in shades of blue and gold, where the morning light catching on the water in the sunken bathing pool cast rippled reflections across the walls and ceiling. Copper pipes in the walls of the pool added hot or cold water as you liked and I took off my night shirt and stepped in, feeling relief wash over me as the cool water sloughed away the dirt from my hurried journey of the past two days. My estate was a remote one, by my own choice, a small desolate mountain region as beautiful as it was deserted, the estate of Morrigan, and the two day journey had been that quick only because I wanted to get it over and done with. I washed my hair thoroughly, rinsing it with fresh cold water from the pipe that battered over my head in a relentless stream until all the soap was gone, before climbing out and drying myself thoroughly. As I pulled a clean shirt on over my head, my bare feet slipping a little on the wet floor, there was a tap on the outer door.

"Who is it?"

"Breakfast, Lady Cia'nara." It was a female voice, shy and, predictably, frightened.

"Cian," I muttered, but didn't say so outloud, calling instead, "Come in," as I walked into the main sitting room.

She was young, younger than me by maybe three years, and dressed in the grab of a Palace servant- a blue surcoat over a gold underdress, her brown hair tied back severely and her eyes fixed firmly on the floor as she curtsied and put the tray she was carrying down.

"Please don't do that," I begged her, with as friendly a smile as I could muster at that time in the morning. "It makes me feel like I should do it back, and my balance is awful first thing in the morning." She looked up at me involuntarily, surprise in her face, and I smiled again. "That's better," I told her cheerfully, "What's your name?"

"Talie, Lady Cia'nara. Well- my full name is Taliena, but my little brother calls me Talie, so everyone else does." It came out in a rush. I grinned at her.

"Brothers do that. Where's your brother now?"

"Back home in Rinea. I came here because Mama said I would learn a lot. Kimil, that's my brother, he's going to become one of the Imperial Guard when he's older."

"I'm sure he'll do very well," I told her, "Thank you for bringing my breakfast, Talie." She curtsied again, smiling, and left, and I shook my head to myself before starting on the fresh juice she had brought me. There was porridge as well, but just looking at it made my stomach churn, so I took a fresh pear from the plate and ate that as I slid my sword belt around my hips and checked the catch. Satisfied, I carefully placed the two knives I usually carried back into the slots in my boots, and pulled a long black cloak, belted around the waist, over me. I feel the cold, and outside the weather looked no more promising than it had in Morrigan.

I checked my appearance in the mirror that stood beside the door into the bathroom in passing, and ran an irritable hand through my damp hair as I stepped out of the other door into the corridor beyond. It was deserted, to my relief, and I walked unchallenged along and down the steps into the Hall of Pathways. It is from here, a round room that hangs precariously out over the lip of the rock ledge on which it is perched, that the three major bridges across the Valley of Cia'neth go, through the three high archways positioned at angles to each other along the front semi circular wall. I took the middle one, the way onto the Bridge of Veils, and stepped with only a slight twinge of foreboding onto the graceful marble pathway.

This bridge is known as the Bridge of Veils because first thing in the morning the mist hangs over it in huge drapes, due to some natural phenomenon I never pretended to understand, and this morning the veils were unusually pronounced. I walked through them, ignoring the chill as the dampness seeped through my cloak, and defiantly paused at the centre of the bridge to admire the view.

Cia'neth's other name is the Valley of Rainbows, and it is easy to understand why on misty mornings. I was facing the sun, looking down the valley to the open end, where the river at the bottom flows into the Sea of the East, and as the mist rose and billowed with the morning breezes hundreds upon thousands of miniature rainbows glittered and moved across the deep rift in the Earth that holds Cia'neth. Red orange, yellow, green, blue and violet lights shifted in lovely complicated patterns, casting unearthly glows over everything that stepped into their path and I smiled in spite of myself, remembering why I missed this place, despite its somewhat uncompromising attitude to yours truly.

Eventually, when I could no longer ignore the clammy frostiness that surrounded me, I carried on across the bridge and into the North Palace. Very few people were up yet and I passed in a more cheerful frame of mind down the spiralling steps that led into the heart of the Palace, which is actually buried halfway into the mountain that forms the North side of the Valley of Cia'neth. Right at the bottom, deep into the mountain itself, is the cavernous space known as the Hall of Rings. It is a gigantic, well, hall, where all indoor weapons training takes place. It contains three wide rings, wider across than three sets of the chambers I inhabited put side by side, surrounded by a thick white line intended to keep spectators out. The light above the rings is, like the rest of the Hall's lighting, artificial magefire, as bright as daylight but without one blinding source. These are the Practice Circles, which are used by mage and fighter trainees to practice duelling in, instead of the real Duel Circles, which are heavily warded. Those were in the Hall of Duels, on the next floor up.

Also in the Hall of Rings are wide long spaces divided by nets, that can be used for solo sword training, archery targets, which are shielded from the rest of the Hall by thick canvas screens, and small staff and fencing duel rings. Not the big formal ones, just small areas where you can practise without bumping into someone else. The Hall is a vast echoing space, wooden floored with whitewashed walls and doors leading off in all directions, and usually it echoes with the sound of a multitude of blades crashing together, and the triumphant- or despairing- shouts of the players in this age old game. People say that fighting is fun until it happens for real and isn't a game any more. I disagree, I'm afraid. It's still a game, just one with much, much higher stakes.

To my initial disappointment the Hall wasn't empty, which was what I had been hoping for. The central ring was occupied by two boys, both dressed in loose shirts and trousers, and fighting with long solid staffs. The clatter and sharp clack of wood on wood filled the huge space, and I sauntered over, folding my arms as I leant against one of the large rock pillars that hold the roof up and watching. One, dressed in a red shirt, caught his opponents staff with a lazy flick as I watched and I winced slightly as the end caught against the other boy, blonde haired and wearing a pale shirt, and slammed into his chin. Red-shirt swore and dropped his guard, coming over quickly.

"Tres', are you all right?" The blonde boy smiled, rubbing his chin ruefully as he regained his balance and leant on his staff.

"I'm fine. A little too vigorous for first thing in the morning, Linarth." Linarth? I suddenly recognised the dark haired boy who was now grinning, touching his collar bone gingerly. As I straightened up, he caught sight of me, and his eyes widened before he hurried over, dragging his opponent with him.

"Lady Cian!" he called joyfully as he approached me, "When did you arrive?"

"Got in about midnight last night," I told him, "That was some pretty impressive staff work." Linarth smiled at me.

"I've been practising with the hope of beating you." He said with a wide smile. "I've never beaten her yet," he confided in the other boy, who smiled, his face puzzled.

"I'm sorry, Lady, but-"

"Linarth, you should remember your manners." I chided him with a grin and he blushed.

"I'm sorry. Tres', this is Lady Cia'nara of Morrigan, but don't call her that, call her Lady Cian. Lady, this is Treselyn of Yamorth." I bowed, smiling, and he returned the courtesy with a wide-eyed stare.

"I visited Yamorth a year ago," I told him, "I met your father there- how is he?"

"Well." Treselyn managed to whisper, still looking at me with a mixture of apprehension and respect. "He never mentioned-"

"It was only a brief visit," I explained, "And on some confidential business. He may have thought it wise not to mention it at all." He nodded, regaining a little of his poise.

"Linarth," I asked, "If you're here, then-" I didn't finish my question because he answered it first, by nodding with a grin over my shoulder. I turned to see a taller double of him walking towards us, a sword belted to his hip, and wearing a deep orange shirt. Linarth's brother and guardian, who was a year older than me and two years older than him, was a good looking member of his species, well muscled and slim, with the dark hair and chiselled features his brother shared. The only difference was the eyes. Reynar's were slanted, dark lashed and amber coloured, ringed dark brown around the outer edges, where Linarth's were more brown.

"Cian," he greeted me with a brotherly hug which I returned with a smile, ignoring the flash of his cheerful emotions across my mind. I find it easy to ignore when the emotions are not extremes- it is anger, distress, pain that are the hardest to deal with and make me sick and dizzy. Some of the glimpses of the future were more disturbing but I always tried to ignore them. Being a clairvoyant isn't easy, and the fact that I am the only one to have ever survived past the age of seven without killing myself makes me slightly distressing to others.

"How goes it?" I asked him cheerfully, and he shrugged, smiling the wide easy smile that was the image of Linarth's.

"Easily," he said eventually, tilting his head as he thought, "But I wonder if it is perhaps the calm before the storm." Like most of his kind, he spoke perfect Human, with a soft lilting accent that I knew a number of the younger noble girls found very attractive. Reynar and Linarth are Salamanders, Fire Elementals, the magickal beings who control fire with a thought.

"I know that feeling," I agreed, then looked speculatively at him, "I was going to suggest I fought Linarth," I told him, "But as I suspect that collar bone is broken from the way he's holding his arm-" Reynar spun to look anxiously at his brother, who shrugged.

"It might be," he admitted, "But if it is, then Tres' jaw is too." Reynar looked worriedly at the other boy. "Linarth, I told you to be careful!"

"I've broken things before." The younger boy said casually. "And if you're going to fight Cian I'm not going to get my arm looked at until I've watched at." Reynar faced him grimly, but I touched his arm and he relaxed and laughed.

"All right, this once. Lady Cian, will you honour me with a duel?" I bowed in response to the formal challenge, then tilted my head up to look at him.

"Weapon?"

"Staff," he said immediately, "So we can show these two how its really done." I nodded.

"All right, but remember I travelled all yesterday." He laughed and, taking Linarth's staff from him, handed it to me before taking Treselyn's himself, twisting it in his hands and examining the smooth wood. Palace practice weapons are always good quality- they have to be- and this was no exception. I examined my own weapon before walking into the centre of the circle. Reynar faced me, his golden eyes twinkling.

"Give us the count, Linarth," I called, and as he began I raised my staff in the traditional salute. Reynar echoed my movement and I smiled a tiny smile at him before adjusting myself into the guard position. Unsurprisingly, he attacked fast, the long slim piece of wood sweeping round to attempt to connect with my head, and I blocked it easily, forcing the momentum backwards, so Reynar had to step backwards or be caught by the locked staffs.

I wrenched my staff away and came down in a low sweep towards his ankles that he caught with his own before sweeping it up in a graceful movement that connected solidly with my shoulder. Sparking pain ran through it, but I ignored it and continued in a sequence of strokes and twists that beat Reynar backwards, towards the edge of the circle. He suddenly swept my legs from under me with a scything kick, and as I fell I twisted my body so I rolled in mid air and landed on my feet, bringing the staff round to smash into his shins.

He grinned at me, then jumped to avoid my next stroke, catching my weapon in a rattle of wood. He initiated the next round of thrusts and feints, which I blocked relatively easily, before feinting one handed and cracking a fist into his chest, sending him stumbling backwards. I forced him to the floor, freefalling towards him with my staff horizontal so it shoved him backwards like a bar. I landed over him, one knee on either side of his chest, and his staff still clutched in his hands over his head.

"You've been practising," he noted and I nodded. As my concentration waned and I answered him, he slid from beneath me in one fluid movement, then caught my stomach with one foot and flipped me neatly onto my back. He grinned down at me, and said, "So have I." I flipped backwards onto my feet, using my staff as an aid, then swung into a barrage of blows that forced him to return just as fast. As I distracted his eyes with my blurring staff, I drew up one foot and kicked him backwards, hard. For the second time in ten minutes he sprawled on the floor, and staggered to his feet shaking his head.

"Enough, Cian," he wheezed, clutching at his ribs. "You've gotten too good. You kick like-" Reynar searched for a comparison then shook his head again. I came forward anxiously and lifted his shirt, touching his skin and finding the hurts. I had broken a couple of his ribs, I found, shutting my eyes to try and ignore the welter of pain, emotion, and future that I caught from him, and sent a shot of healing magick, cool, calm and tinged blue, into him, healing the ribs and removing the pain. Peace covered my mind again as I took my hand away and he smiled at me.

"I'm sorry," I said contritely, "I never meant- I mean, I-"

"Don't worry, Cian. You're looking in no better a state." He nodded to the shoulder I had been using awkwardly. I shut my eyes and instructed my magick, heal. The pain subsided and I turned my eyes on Linarth and Treselyn.

"No," Linarth backed away hurriedly, holding out his hands. "Not me, Cian. I'll go to the Healers, I think. Your healing magick tends to be a little rough and ready about it. Come on, Tres'." They hurried out, Treselyn bowing quickly to me before being dragged out by his friend.

Reynar stretched, then looked at me, his head tilted to one side. "Come and get some breakfast?" he suggested, and I nodded eagerly. My small early breakfast seemed like hours ago now, and we walked in companionable silence up the wide shallow steps onto the main corridor after I collected my cloak and sword. Others were about now, nobles dressed in rich clothing and hurrying servants filling the spacious passageway through the mountain. Here arches had been cut through to form windows in the rock, looking out over the Valley of Cia'neth, and I huddled into my cloak as the damp wind blew through.

"Why haven't they got round to glassing those over?" I asked irritably, more to myself than to Reynar, but he looked down at me, amused.

"Sairen likes them that way, she says," he told me, "She says it wakes up the nobles on their way to breakfast." As he spoke we reached the large doorway that led into the breakfast hall, which was teeming with nobles. We found seats in one corner, at the end of one of the long tables, and began to collect food from the dishes spread up and down the long lengths of wood. I felt my usual twinge of disgust at the waste of the place, and settled to eating slices of bread. Reynar, who was eating an apple, grinned at me.

"You really hate this place, don't you." It wasn't a question, but I shook my head.

"No. I hate what it represents, not the place itself. I can't say I'm too keen on the people, either." He laughed wryly.

"Who does? Anyway, why are you back?" I shrugged.

"Our Adored Queen. She called me back, I'm afraid- I think she wants some advice on something, but what." I spread my hands in a gesture of ignorance. "I've been instructed to present myself after dinner this evening, and then hopefully I can be on my way back to Morrigan before midnight. I've abandoned my people a little too long for my liking, and I have the ward key with me. Not much use when I'm not there."

"Haven't you still got that housekeeper? Haven?" I nodded.

"Yes. Next time I go away, I'll give her the Ward Key. Haven'll use it wisely, I know she will." He nodded.

"From what I've seen of her, she'll look after it like her own kingdom." Reynar agreed, his amber eyes sparking suddenly with curiosity. "So- do you have any idea what Queen Sairen wants with you?" I shook my head.

"No. No idea at all. Everything seems quiet."

"Mm. Too quiet in my opinion. Linarth and I have heard nothing from home in a month, which is unusual but not too worrying. Something makes me uneasy, though. It may be that no-one has anything to say now- it's all quiet- or something major has happened."

"We'll see." I said, finishing my bread, and I tried to block my sense of foreboding. I never got images of the whole future, just of that of specific people when I touched them, and for the first time in my life I found myself wishing desperately that I knew what was going to happen.