Cacopheny was the one to knock on the door-- he insisted on it. He let Ketvia come with him to the porch, but she had to stand back, because this was his trial to get through. They could see her behind him-- she was big and red and hard to miss, after all-- but he was the one he wanted those Light dragons to address, not her.

And, luckily, though larger and more elaborate than his own home, the house was not dragon-sized, and nor was the neighborhood it was situated in, so he was not going to have a problem with being dwarfed by everything and everyone. Quite the opposite-- he fully expected to be taller than everyone within, and had to consciously stop himself from hunching over even worse than his usual too-tall-feeling slouch.

Well, and from the overwhelming feeling of dragon that sometimes made him uncomfortable. But he could deal with that. He had to do this.

It was, to his mild relief, the young one Luniveus who answered the door. The short, chubby Light dragon-- human formed-- opened the door with his gaze leveled about the middle of his chest, then tilted his head back, and back, and back, until he found Cacopheny's face. "Oh!" he gaped with unguarded-- but wonderfully unfrightened-- surprise. "Mister Cacopheny!"

"I ton't know vere you get sse 'mister' part," he answered with a little smile, quickly deciding that Luniveus was his favorite member of this family. "But yes. Hello, Luniveus."

Ha! Got the Ls right!

The pup actually beamed up at him briefly then, distracted, looked past him and leaned around, probably spotting Ketvia. The pup smiled and waved at her before asking Cacopheny cheerfully, "She with you?"

"Yes. Her name is Ketvya. Ket. Vee. Ah," he corrected himself. He was perfectly capable of saying her name; he'd just gotten lazy, since she didn't usually mind.

"Hey, kid," she rumbled at him amiably.

"Zhe came to make zhure no von tried to arresssst me, comingk here," Cacopheny sighed.

Luniveus actually looked a little embarrassed once he puzzled that out, glancing guiltily over his shoulder and into the house. That didn't seem like a good sign. "Guess you're here about Lanithro, huh?" he asked sheepishly. "Grandma forgot to ask her friends at the Cathedral to take a message, or something. Did they tell you how to get here?"

"Ketvia brought me," Cacopheny said, shaking his head. He doubted the priests at the Cathedral would have passed along a message, anyway, given how annoyed with him they had been. "Zhe knows your grandfassers. How is Ranissro?"

"Out like a light!" Luniveus exclaimed, sounding amazed that someone could wear themselves out so badly that they slept this long. "I mean, like, literally! You shoulda seen it last night," he continued, waving his hand expansively as if to illustrate his memory. "He makes these little golden lights and he had them everywhere, like-- like fireflies, almost. Then they finally all winked out at once and he was gone. Grandpa Fautor, he's a really good psionic, and he can't even wake him."

Then, rather like Sentio when he'd realized his mouth and brain had run away with him, he suddenly stopped, blushing, and said awkwardly, "It's, um, you know, just the darkness. It scares him. He was practicing the alphabet last night, really. I helped him some."

Cacopheny sighed. It looked like the family, disapproving of him or not, had been telling the truth. He rubbed briefly at his forehead, trying to think of what he could possibly do now. Besides kick something, which wouldn't really give anyone the best impression of his maturity. "I'm zhure you did," he told Luniveus. "And I'm zhure he did. Maybe ssis isn't sutch a kood idea...."

"He really was planning on being there," Luniveus assured him, rubbing uncomfortably at his arm, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands. "I mean, he kept saying that-- well, he thinks he hears demons in shadows, and he says he heard one around you say nobody would hurt him, and he says demons don't lie to him, either, but--"

His far-too-uncomfortably-true rambling was cut short by someone calling from further inside, "If it's a friend of yours, Luniveus, you can invite them inside, you know. You can finish your homework later."

"Um. It's, um." The young Light dragon looked back inside again, wide-eyed and obviously bewildered. He reminded Cacopheny strongly of Sentio, when he was younger and thrust into a similar situation. "Should I say it's you?" he whispered.

"Go ahead," Cacopheny said, not sure whether he was taking pity on the pup or making things worse for him. "Might as vell be honest, yes?"

"Oh, boy," Luniveus muttered, and Cacopheny had a moment where he thought that, perhaps, this wasn't the best idea, either. It was too late, though, because the pup was turning back into the house and whoever had spoken and saying, "It's mister Cacopheny, Dad."

We've really gotta get them to stop saying that, someone grumbled.

"Mister-- what?" The voice inside, as Cacopheny had expected, went suddenly high-pitched and panicky. He winced at the shriek of an almost comically terrified shadow. "Why? Why is he-- what does he-- but Fautor sent--"

"He just asked how Lanithro is," Luniveus soothed feebly. "I said he's still asleep. Dad, he's not-- oh, geez, there he goes...."

Curious, Cacopheny leaned inside and tried to peer past the pup. What he saw was a big table with papers strewn across it; an older female Light dragon in human form with hair blonder than even Sentio's bustling across the room, her shadow clucking with concern; and a purple-haired Light dragon also in human form slumped back bonelessly in one of the chairs, out cold. He recognized the rough bark of Sophosius somewhere further back demanding help up and warning the afore-named Fautor to not scare the demon-beastie off-- claws and teeth, what a mess. Cacopheny leaned back again, so he was properly outside, and had to bring a hand up to his mouth and stick his teeth into a knuckle to keep from laughing. Behind him, Ketvia's surprised shadow was muttering about insanity and stupidity, which only made the situation more ridiculous.

And then there were the shadows, who decided to start making themselves heard right when he needed them to the least: when there was already enough to keep track of.

Blood and claws, I like these people!

You would, Flash.

You like anything loud and obnoxious.

And then the afore-named Fautor was coming down the hall towards him, all pure whiteness--

Wow. That is the whitest person I think I've ever seen.

--with hair in his face like Deiv's. He was tall, though not nearly as tall as Cacopheny, but he didn't look panicked or angry, at least. Cacopheny tried to swallow the amusement and look serious, tucking his now-bleeding hand into his coat pocket self-consciously.

"So," Fautor said, putting a hand on poor, confused Luniveus' shoulder supportingly. "We get to meet the would-be teacher after all? Good afternoon, mister Cacopheny. I would be Fautor Immuto."

"Hello, Fautor," he managed. "Um, I hope I tidn't... er. Cause trouble?" He pointed in the direction of the dining room and the fainted dragon inside, sucking on his bottom lip to keep from smiling.

The corner of Fautor's mouth twitched briefly-- his shadow laughed lightly, for him-- and said, "Well, he's quieter that way, so I suppose it's more just a nuisance than real trouble."

"Ah," Cacopheny said, relaxing a little since there was humor in his host, too.

"Bloody wet-eared yellow-bellied whelp," Sophosius huffed, limping up. "No offense," he added in the direction of the dining room. "Not my son. Should've eaten him when I had the chance. --Are you just going to make the beastie stand outside, Fautor? I told you I could take him."

"With a welcome like this," Fautor told Sophosius with hardly a change in expression, "I would be more inclined to stay on the porch, myself."

"Then go outside with him, instead!" the old Guard growled. "Blast and blazes, arent' you supposed to be the smart one?"

Fautor looked back at Cacopheny, who was torn between laughing and backing up hastily at the volume and bluster. "Well," the white dragon said, "I suppose that all depends on what exactly has brought you to our doorstep?"

"He asked how Lanithro is," Luniveus spoke up helpfully, Cacopheny still struggling to reconcile his reactions.

And make sure these jerks weren't a pack of liars!

And ignore the shadows, who were, as usual, chattering busily, competing with the multiple dragon-shadows. That was easier, though, since he was used to the inner noise.

Luniveus continued, "Miss Ketvia brought him, see?"

Now Fautor looked a little surprised, looking past the doorway to the second guest. "Ah. So I do. Ketvia Pariyani, this is unexpected."

Cacopheny was a little surprised-- and helped back to amused from overwhelmed-- by Ketvia's sheepish and almost shy grin.

Ketvia?

Shy?

Now I've seen everything!

"Yeah, well, the kid needed help findin' the place, and all. And Chiya would've killed me if he ran into trouble on the way, anyway."

"Are you not famous forrr bringingk sse half-demon to Sanctchuarry?" Cacopheny asked her dryly.

"It's not exactly something you brag about, mutt," Ketvia retorted.

I would've thought she wouldn't have to.

It's not like we don't drop by all the time.

Like, y'know, right now.

"Ketvia!" Sophosius bellowed, making Cacopheny wince. "You're responsible for this beastie? Hah!"

Ketvia smirked at the happy-seeming thump of his crutch and his laugh. "Chiya started it, but at this point we both hafta claim responsibility."

"Somebody wake our beastie up!" the loud Light dragon hollared inside. "Try boxing his ears."

Does he call everybody a beastie?

Maybe everybody who's not a dragon.

I'd like to see him try calling me a beastie....

"That would do very little good here, Sophosious," Fautor pointed out reasonably.

I'm surprised Lanithro can stand him, dragon or not.

"Well, then, box Virtuano's. I need to tell him he's an idiot."

"Is he sse von who fainted?" Cacopheny asked, finally getting a word in edgewise, between chattering shadows and noisy dragons. "Does he do ssat offten?"

No wonder old Soph' there complains about him.

Bet he complains about Lanithro, too.

"Thankfully, no," Fautor said-- briefly, before Sophosius got going again.

"Just how I managed to have a son born without a spine, I have no blasted idea. If he weren't purple--"

"Don't insult your wife," Fautor interjected. It sounded like something he said all the time, with no bite to it, more like a gentle reminder than a real scold.

"I'm not and she knows it. She doesn't know where Virtuano came from, either-- do you?" he directed the last at someone who was presumably his wife, probably the golden-haired one in the dining room.

Claws, he does talk a lot, doesn't he?

If Ketvia gets like this in her old age, someone put her out of our misery.

Peering around the doorframe, Cacopheny caught a glimpse of a blue-haired woman with her arms locked under Virtuano's arms and around his chest, half-carrying and half-dragging him out of the room. She paused at the sight of him and eyed him cautiously but at least not hostilely, her shadow muttering warily but with resignation, then gave Virtuano another heave and grunted, "Well, come on, bring them in, then. You're all letting in a draft."

Fautor looked to Cacopheny again. "Do you want to come in? Perhaps we could explain ourselves better than our letter permitted."

"Don't say 'our'. Wasn't my bloody damn letter," Sophosius snorted.

"I-- ssink it might be a good idea?" Cacopheny half-said and half-asked, as much of the shadows as of the house full of dragons. The thought of being crammed into one room with this entire family was a little overwhelming, again, but he had started this and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to finish it.

Good idea, Araski agreed.

Yeah, Almadir grunted.

Can I count on you to keep quiet and let me talk to them? Without you all distracting me?

We... can try?

Yes, Araski said more definitively, and Cacopheny got the distinct impression she'd glared at Flash, somewhere in there. We can. Even if I have to muzzle him.

All right, then. Thank you.

Don't thank anybody. It's just expediency.

"Well, don't just stand there, then," Ketvia said behind him, clapping a now-human hand on his shoulder and making him jump. "In, mutt."

Luniveus and Sophosius had already started into the dining room while he'd been focused inward, and he blinked a little, hoping he hadn't missed anything important. The former started tidying up the table, gathering up some of the papers, while the latter, shadow and voice both muttering about the how poorly everything had been handled in this situation, dropped heavily into one of the chairs at the table's cleaner end.

"Please," Fautor said, holding the door open wider, "come in and take a seat."

"Ssank you," Cacopheny nodded, ducking a little on his way in.

Too tall too tall too tall!

Get a muzzle for that one, too.

Figures he'd get talkative now.

Cacopheny slid himself carefully into another of the empty chairs-- a far enough distance from Sophosius so that he wouldn't wind up deafened by voice and shadow both-- while Ketvia, by contrast, flopped casually into the one right beside the old Guard. The golden-haired older one drifted back in from another door, smiling shyly at him and Ketvia. Her shadow was still murmuring with concern, but... that was about all he could get. He stared at her a moment, bewildered by the wordlessness of her inner voice.

"My wife," Sophosius spoke up, pointing his crutch at her. "Apanacea. Can't speak a lick and her psi works funny, so don't mind her for standing around looking pretty. --Beastie even twitched in there?"

She shook her head.

That distracted him from pondering trying to talk to that odd shadow, and he blinked at Sophosius. "Ranissro's in ssere?"

"No room for him upstairs," Sophosius nodded as Fautor settled in next to him. There were two seats between Cacopheny and the others, and he felt a little silly, but maybe Luniveus would take one and it wouldn't look so obviously like he was trying to give himself space.... "So we shuffled that one around for him. Works better this way, anyhow. Never turns the lights off. I'd hate to have to room with him."

Cacopheny winced at the very idea. "I'd never sleep," he agreed. "Knowingk him, I probably voodn't even be able to see...."

"Kid can't see well in bright light," Ketvia explained, and Cacopheny resisted the urge to growl at her. That was one thing he hated about Ketvia: her apparent desire to explain every little quirk of his to anyone who he happened to be talking with.

"Well, you're just about as opposite from our beastie as you could possibly be, aren't you?" Sophosius grunted in amusement, eying him with his one good eye. He glanced at Apanacea again. "This that goddess of yours working in mysterious ways again?"

Apanacea huffed voicelessly and the wordless murmur of her shadow took a definite chastizing tone. Cacopheny watched her a moment, trying to puzzle her out. Mute, psionic in an odd way, and with a shadow that didn't speak-- he really wanted to try talking to it and see what happened, but--

That'd be a bad idea.

Yeah.

"I am not being irreverent," Sophosius answered the vague scold. "I am asking."

"Well," Fautor cut in mildly, "goddess or not, it is that nature of direct opposites wherein lies our particular problem."

It took Cacopheny a moment of staring at him to work out what exactly he'd said. Not even Sentio used words like that. Once he had it figured, though, he sighed. "I ton't know vat to do," he admitted. "I vant to help-- and I ton't know ssat he vill rearn your vords vissout sse kind of help I can give him. But I ton't know if eisser of us can handle his fear every day."

"Which is why I wrote out--" Sophosius interrupted, shadow growling irritably, by thumping his crutch on the floor, and Fautor unblickingly redirected himself. "Sophosius, I do believe you have made your personal stance perfectly clear, but our wives, your son, and I make it count as 'our'."

"Well, then, thank the Lords and Lady that Luniveus still has a sound head on his shoulders-- don't you, boy?" He shot a grin at Luniveus, who was skulking obviously in the kitchen. "Sit down, sit down, nobody bites around here but me and Ketvia."

"And I only bite my stupid students," Ketvia added with a toothy grin of her own. "You're not one of mine, so you're safe."

With that encouragement, Luniveus at least came out, slipping into the seat opposite Cacopheny and smiling bashfully at him, a thick book of some sort clutched to his chest. Cacopheny tried smiling a bit, back, but since he knew what Fautor was going to say was complete agreement with everything he'd said in his letter, it felt a little flat.

Sure enough: "I wrote what I did in consideration of Lanithro's mental state. It is not as if we cannot converse with him at all, given those of us who are psionic and Shijet's unique manner of communication, so we prefer keeping him unafraid versus having a more efficient means of teaching him our language."

"I suppose," Cacopheny said reluctantly, eyes on a claw tapping idly on the table top, trying not to look sullen. He thought he did all right. "Ssat makes sense."

"Tell me, Cacopheny--"

Oh, good, no more 'mister'.

"--if you would allow me the point of reference, for Lanithro could only tell us you have been here in Sanctuary for a few years... how old are you, and how long were you among the Caetrae?"

Hearing "Caetrae" still sounded strange, but he wasn't going to turn down the change of subject. "I ton't know," he admitted. "I rived my whole rife-- rrr. Lived my whole life. Viss two demons, never counting years, until Ketvya and Tchiya found me."

"Chiya guesses he's about the equivalent of sixty," Ketvia put in helpfully. "But that's just a guess."

"In comparison," Fautor said, "Lanithro only escaped his captors perhaps four or five weeks ago, and as best as we have been able to discern from things he remembers-- the birthdays his mother counted before she was slain, the growth of the demon-pups around him, that sort of thing-- his age is somewhere around sixty or seventy. A month of freedom against over half a century of conditioned fear and subservience which he was born into. Perhaps if you had encountered him after he, too, had several years of freedom behind him, and if he had escaped sooner, he would not react so badly to you... but perhaps not. He is still more unstable than mere 'obedience training' could attest for."

And is that supposed to make anyone feel better?

Since when did you care about anyone feeling better?

... shut up.

"Beastie's half-mad, is what he means," Sophosius snorted.

Well, isn't that just going around.

"And nobody here," Sophosius continued obliviously, "but me and the boy think an old beastie can still learn new tricks."

"After all he has been through, we would rather err on the side of kindness," Fautor admitted mildly, without looking away from Cacopheny-- though Cacopheny had looked away from him early on in the monologue, uncomfortable with the direct regard, and back at his claw playing with some tooling on the table-top. "In this, that means not exposing him to the sense of demon-magic, even when its source means no harm."

Which definitely doesn't make anyone feel any better.

Though it's kind of fun to watch the mutt sulk.

I am not sulking. And I thought you said you were going to be quiet.

Araski said. I said no such thing.

"Was he improving?" Ketvia asked in the pause that followed, her shadow trying vocally to remember what Cacopheny had been like at four or five weeks out. It wasn't terribly comfortable to listen to. "I mean, in the time you've known him, was he getting better?"

"He has been with us about two weeks," Fautor answered, "but it is hard to say. Certainly he now has contentment and happiness that he never had among the Caetrae, but he still remains terribly afraid of darkness and shadows, is acutely paranoid, and distressed that being among Asandae does not give him the sense of safety that he always believed it would."

"Huh." Ketvia frowned, slouching back in her chair. "I dunno. I always felt like this one--" She jerked a thumb at Cacopheny, who winced. "--did better after he had to face things, but he wasn't exactly the kind of wimpy mess Lanithro seems to be like, either."

"Ketvya," Cacopheny muttered unhappily, glaring at her sidelong.

"It's pertinent," she protested. "And it's not like you would talk about it. --You call Lanithro half-mad. Cacopheny was, too, really."

"Is," Cacopheny grumbled.

"Don't be stupid. You're much better, now. Though I suppose bathing regularly helps, too."

Thoroughly embarrassed, Cacopheny hid his face in his hands, since he didn't have enough hair to hide behind yet. Luniveus was staring at him, Fautor unbent enough to blink, and Apanacea's hand flew to her mouth uncertainly. There was a babble of shadow-voices from everyone in the room-- even Apanacea, though it wasn't anything he could understand.

"Now that's what I think," Sophosius barked, his real voice just as strident as his shadow's. "They want to keep our beastie tucked away in his little asylum, and I say he won't grow out of whatever was taught him unless we run him through some new drills!"

"He is a troubled soul, Sophosius," Fautor interrupted patiently. "A casualty of war. Not a new recruit."

Both Sophosius and Ketvia shrugged off his protest, the former with a wave of his crutch and the latter with a little roll of her eyes. Sophosius leaned across the arm of his chair in Ketvia's direction to ask, quite as if Cacopheny wasn't there, "Does your beastie think he's got demons hunting him down for revenge, too?"

Smirking, Ketvia answered, "No. He had that, for real, once, but looks like that's over with, at least. He just hears voices in shadows, sees things that aren't there, and gets all fragmented when he's upset."

"Claws," Cacopheny groaned through his hands. "I tid not bringk you arongk to gossip about me, Ketvya!"

"It's pertinent!" she repeated stubbornly. "I bet they hadn't even guessed there was anything wrong with you-- and if there was hope for you, there's hope for Lanithro. I expect you had it worse off, anyway. --Demons usually eat kids like him," she explained for the benefit of the Light dragons, to his horror, "but the bitch who had him decided she'd rather have a play--"

"Ketvya!" he interrupted before she could get the whole word out, furious. "Ssat. Is. Private!"

There was a brief, stunned pause, wherein Ketvia snapped her mouth shut and had the grace to look chagrined, Fautor and Luniveus stared, Cacopheny glared murderously at the babbling Fire, and Sophosius smacked the table loudly, making Cacopheny jump. "Blast and blazes!" he broke the silence with another of his bellows. "We've got his twin! Ugly twin, mind, but... damn!"

Ugly?

Who're you callin' ugly, ugly??

You'd think the show of temper would prove his statement false.

Rranissro would never yell at anyone like that.

--Honestly, I'm a little surprised the mutt did it, himself.

Cacopheny leaned on the table and put his head back into his hands, half to keep the latter from shaking, then buried them in his hair when it didn't really work. "Yes," he said finally, not looking at any of them, eyes firmly planted on the table-top. "Ssere are ssingks wrongk viss me. I vas nearly as pa-- para-- noyd-- as Rranissro. Jzumpingk at ssingks vitch vere not ssere, crintchingk, hidingk. Ssat is part of vy I vanted to help him. I to not know vesser being faced viss somessingk he fears vill help, but I also to not ssingk meetingk viss him vonce is enough to know if it vill or not." He took a deep breath, dropped his hands, and sat back, feeling a little steadier. The dragons were no longer staring: Fautor looked thoughtful, his hand on his chin; Luniveus was scribbling furiously in the book he'd brought to the table; Sophosius looked vindicated, glaring at his mage-partner; and Apanacea was glancing back through Lanithro's door worriedly. The blue-haired one peered in through the kitchen, but didn't look particularly concerned, probably just disturbed by all the noise.

"Vy don't ve ask him?" Cacopheny finished pointedly. "Instead of makingk decisions vor him."

"Because," Fautor said gently, "Lanithro does not make decisions. He obeys."

"All the more reason to make him make one, then," Ketvia shrugged. "He's got to learn how, sometime, and encouraging bad habits isn't going to make them go away."

"He decided to get away from the demons just fine," Sophosius added huffily. "When he decided he wasn't ever going to be rescued."

"And it took him some sixty years or so to even make that decision, did it not?" Fautor pointed out.

"Is he Elucid's son or is he not?" Sophosius scowled. "You're not giving him enough credit."

"Sophosius, all his insistence that he is used to being afraid and would continue meeting Cacopheny, anyway, means very little when he leaves himself unconscious from that fear."

"It vas onry his virst time," Cacopheny said softly, more to himself than the dragons. "Maybe it vill ket better."

The old Light made a disgusted noise, then wrestled himself to his feet. "He's my blood relative, not yours," he said definitively. "If I can get him up, I'm getting him up. Lend me your mind, Apanacea."

Cacopheny looked up at him with a start. He'd meant his "we" purely metaphorically, when he'd said "why don't we ask him", since he'd fully intended to be long gone by the time Lanithro woke of his own accord. He really couldn't see a good ending coming out of confronting Lanithro, himself, in his home. At the very least, Lanithro would feel pressured and uncomfortable in what he'd thought was a safe place; at the worst, he could feel like his formerly safe place had been violated by demon-magic and was now no longer safe. Either one he could imagine himself feeling, in the same situation.

Unless his wearing himself into collapse the night before means he already thinks it's not a safe place. He had to be trying to ward off something with all that light.

And maybe it'll do him good, seeing a so-called demon welcomed into his home by his family.

I think it's a bad idea.

Tek, you're too much like old Fautor.

The kid will never learn anything if he's babied all the time.

Knowing Soph' there, even if it is> a bad idea, there isn't much hope of changing his mind.

Still, Cacopheny made an effort, as much because he wasn't sure he was in a good place to be trying to reason with the irrational as because Lanithro didn't need his safe place ruined further. "No, no," he said, half-rising, himself, as Sophosius hobbled towards Lanithro's door. "It's-- if he needs sleep, ret him sleep. You can ask him rater. Rrr, later."

You don't give yourself enough credit. You'd be fine.

Is that a compliment I hear?

Is the world coming to an end?

Shut up.

Sophosius actually paused and looked over his shoulder, though he didn't look happy about it. His wife took the opportunity to put a restraining hand on his arm, shadow flickering with unspoken things that Cacopheny couldn't even put words to, himself, and Fautor took the opportunity to speak up, himself. "Whether we were to ask him now or later, his answer would be the same. The easiest thing for everyone involved would be for you to release him from this 'obligation' he feels compelled to fulfill."

They weren't going to give in. Kind or not, understanding or not, they just weren't. Well, Fautor wasn't, and probably not any of the others, too. Sophosius might have felt perfectly happy to argue the point, but Cacopheny didn't have any arguments. He just had what he wanted to do, and vague suppositions that maybe it would turn out all right in the end. He sat back down, though maybe he should have just been going for the door.

"It might be easy to give up," Ketvia put in, equally as softly as quiet Fautor, "but easy isn't always right. In fact, from what I've seen, easy usually isn't right."

Fautor tilted his head at the point, but the calm of his expression remained unchanged. The sudden loss of bluster in Sophosius's shadow at whatever he was getting from his wife, plus that unshakeable calm, meant there was no way the family was changing their minds. "But there is no point to making something vastly harder than it has to be, either. Lanithro will have more peace learning our language from us, no matter how much longer will take."

"And his fear of demons-- and the dark?" Ketvia challenged, sounding frustrated. Even Sophosius glanced at her, but he didn't say anything-- he just took his now-subdued shadow into Lanithro's room with him as he slipped off. "His seeing things?"

"Ketvya, stop," Cacopheny sighed. "If ssey vant him to ket better, or not, by ssemselves, ve haff no rrrright to ket involfed."

You're kidding--

You're giving up?

No fair!

It's the only thing I can do.

"All Cacopheny offered Lanithro was our language. We appreciate your trying--" Fautor glanced at Cacopheny again at that, his shadow murmuring an, I'm sorry, then directed the rest to the dragoness: "But the rest of Lanithro's troubles should best remain only our concern."

"This is shit," Ketvia muttered mutinously.

It is, Almadir growled.

And that seemed like the cue to leave, before somebody got too angry. Cacopheny stood up. "Ssank you, Fautor. Tell Rranissro I am sorry I could not help him, and I hope he is happy."

Fautor stood up, too. "We will."

"Ketvya," Cacopheny said, eying her just as pointedly as the blue-haired lady in the kitchen doorway did.

"If you think you can start ordering me around, mutt," she growled, "you've got another thing coming."

However, she did throw herself off her chair and prowl unhappily towards the door. Since her shadow was shouting about unfairness, and prejudice, and stupidity, Cacopheny didn't take her "threat" seriously. Instead, he told Fautor, "You vill vant to cleanse ssiss room, and sse doorvay. Or Rranissro vill know I vas here. It vill propably dissssturb him."

"He will know anyway," Fautor said, coming around the table, "since we will tell him, but I will take care of the traces, do not worry."

"Knowingk and feelingk are two different ssingks," Cacopheny answered with a faint smile, and started for the door, himself. Ketvia was already out, apparently too disgusted-- or too afraid of making too big of a scene-- to stay inside any longer. Fautor's shadow hovering inflexibly behind him-- and warning him that no matter whether he drew the leaving out or not, nothing would change; if he'd had more energy, he'd have been offended-- was not exactly encouraging him to linger, either.

"Farewell," was all Fautor said.

For a moment Cacopheny tried to look at him, but it was all so bright, and he couldn't think of anything to say. He finally just nodded, turned away, and left, following the sound of Ketvia's shadow swearing down on the curb.