In The Beginning by Gail Daley (top 100 books of all time checklist .TXT) 📕

I will see what is available for us there. But in the meantime, we need to show Lewys a guest's courtesy. Please?"

In some matters, Serle knew he could manipulate his grandfather, but when it came to things like being courteous to his host, his usual tactics wouldn't work. The old man could turn stubborn on him and it would be useless to try to change his mind.

Usually Mort Corkian was astute in judging his grandson's feelings; this time he had no inkling of the canker eating at Serle's soul. Serle was bitterly aware of the sorry figure he had cut watching the battle from the side lines, and it galled to admit even to himself he lacked the sheer, raw courage enabling Andre to charge two powerful Magi like McTavish and his son with nothing but a sword (little better than a club in Serle's estimation.) The nasty suspicion Andre would have acted the same if he possessed nothing but a club, was a jagged spur into Serle's pride. Even more maddening—the Merc had taken those two Magi down. Simon McTavish, whom Serle knew to be quite powerful indeed, had even knelt in surrender!

Knowing he could never admit any of this to his grandsire, Serle forced a smile. "You are right," he said. "besides, I confess I would like to know what happened to the family who attacked yesterday."

Serle and Corkian found Lewys and Owen, having recovered from the spell cast on them, dressing for the day.

"How are you feeling, old friend?" Mort asked Lewys.

"I'm fine," Lewys said. "Catrin's getting to be more of a worry wart than Anghard ever was. Bossy too."

"I'm glad to see you are better," Serle said. "I am curious though as to what you intend to do with the McTavishes."

"They've gone from Ironlyn," said Andre from the doorway. "Nothing else need concern you."

"But what did you do with them?" Serle asked. "Did you simply execute them?"

"No, we did not. Strangely enough Corkian, the Merc Code doesn't allow the summary execution of an enemy who has surrendered," Andre said. "That is all you need to know. Either of you. The rest is Ironlyn business."

"And we are not a part of Ironlyn?" Serle challenged.

"No, you are not," said Owen truculently.

"I'm hungry," Lewys announced, after a sharp look at his grandson, whose expression didn't bode well for any relationship with his old friends. "Would you care to join us for breakfast, Mort?"

"I've already eaten thanks. We just came by to check on you," Mort said. "We have classes starting in a few minutes. Come, Serle."

"You realize what this means?" Serle asked his grandsire as they exited the building.

"What do you think it means?" asked Mort warily.

"It means there is a Gate here, and they know how to operate it. They must have sent McTavish and his family through it. I wonder if the Shahen and the Proctor know its here?"

Mort shivered inside himself at Serle's thoughtful tone. He had lately become conscious his grandson didn't always adhere to the principles he believed in, and he couldn't help but wonder if the boy planned to use the knowledge about the Gate in some way.

Coming Home

SEVERAL DAYS AFTER the McTavishes had passed through the Gate, Owen had recovered enough to go out with Sorson Lindgren and his crew to search for the herd of wild unicorns.

Lewys was feeling better, although he was still weak and tired easily. Perhaps he recovered slower than Owen because of his age, or a heavier part of McTavish's spell had hit him instead of his grandson. He was also feeling guilty about excluding his old friend from the secret of the Gate and of all the wonderful things Geri had been showing them. Mort had seemed to accept the slight with no hard feelings, but Lewys was looking for a way to make amends for it. Mort had hinted Serle's hurt feelings might be eased if he was given a chance to make up with Rebecca. Lewys doubted it would serve the purpose Mort intended, but he thought it might be worth a try. He looked across the breakfast table at his grandchildren. "It’s good to have old friends here," he said. "Rebecca, Serle mentioned he’d like to do some exploring. I thought you and he might take a ride out to the coast today. What do you think?"

Rebecca looked up from her plate. "You know it wouldn’t be appropriate, Grandpa. I'm an engaged woman. Perhaps Catrin or Selene would like to show him around."

"No thanks," said Selene, making a face.

"Me neither," added Catrin.

"I think in this case an exception could be made," Lewys protested. "he is an old friend—"

"No," Rebecca said flatly. "Not under any circumstances." She looked up to see Andre studying Lewys thoughtfully. He turned to her and she met his eyes and smiled. He relaxed.

"I don’t blame you," Selene remarked. "Serle’s a toad."

"That's a quick rush to judgement. They've only been here a few days. Why do you call him a toad, Selene?" Catrin asked.

Selene hesitated, casting a wary glance at Lewys. "He’s mean to the kids."

"Mean?" Rebecca repeated. "how is he mean?"

"Just because he’s strict with them doesn’t mean he’s mean," Lewys protested. "He has only just started. You should give him a chance child."

"I don’t think that’s what Selene means Grandpa," Rebecca said mildly. "She certainly has the experience to tell the difference between someone who is just strict and someone who is mean."

Selene shrugged. "He says nasty things to some of the kids."

Rebecca’s eyes narrowed. "What kind of nasty things?"

"Oh, he tells them they’re stupid or no good because they came from the gutter, stuff like that."

Andre gave the girl a penetrating glance. "Has he said it to you?"

Selene hesitated again, and said, "Yes. When I told him he shouldn’t speak to the Lorkeet children the way he had, he said I had no right to say anything to him about how he treated his pupils because I was just a charity case and not a