Now, he'd been asked to dress nicely for visitors. For Trik, it was his nicest outfit, handed down from one of his cousins. Seev had outgrown just about everything, and this particular tunic and pair of pants hadn't seen much wear before Seev needed something larger. Trik hadn't asked why he needed to dress nicely—he'd heard the whispers. If these people didn't take him, he'd be sent off to one of the state-run homes and spend the rest of his natural life there, an oddity that nobody wanted.

* * *

Toff had seen the photographs, just as Ry and Tory had. Tory swallowed hard at the image; Ry's expression had been grim. Toff's heart thumped painfully in his chest—here was likely another who'd been bullied and ignored because he didn't have what the others did. Now, Toff stood between Queen Lissa and Roff, while Tory and Ry stood with their fathers. Karzac had come, too, with Connegar and Reemagar.

Toff learned how easy it was for the Larentii to disguise themselves. They looked like any other humanoid, now. They were waiting in a reception area of Belancour Manor until the contingent from Grey House arrived. A Belancour Wizard—an old woman, stood near the door, waiting for all of them to gather before taking them to see Trikleer Belancour.

"Toff?" Nissa's voice was almost breathless when she tapped him on the shoulder. Toff's grin was wide with relief as he hugged Nissa, lifting her off the floor the moment he turned around. He'd been afraid she wouldn't be allowed to come.

"I missed you," Nissa whispered in Toff's ear as he set her down again. Nissa stepped back and adjusted her finely woven tunic; the fabric was dyed a beautiful shade of green. Toff thought Nissa looked very pretty in it.

"Come with me," the female wizard snapped, bringing Toff's attention back to their mission. He thought he heard a slight snicker from Lissa before they all moved forward.

"Straighten up, Trikleer," Marid ordered sternly as Trik leaned over a bit to catch a first glimpse of the group of people walking toward Marid's private study. Trik stared, his mouth open. The woman was stunning. And the man standing near her, did he have wings? Marid hadn't given him any information regarding the identities of these people—he'd only said that his mother had ties to them somehow, and since Marid could no longer keep him in his home, he would either go to these people or to the state facility. After getting a good look at these, however, Trik knew what his fate would be. All these people were whole and pleasing to look upon. Trik had none of that. They would turn him away without even speaking to him. That's why he was shocked throughout when the woman walked up to him, took his withered hand in hers and said, "Hello, Trikleer. Are you well today?"

* * *

"Call me Trik," Trik had no idea how he'd come to be seated between the woman who'd introduced herself as Lissa, and a man who said his name was Connegar. Trik thought that slightly humorous—someone had named his son in the Larentii fashion. Everyone knew Larentii names always ended in "gar." They were having luncheon at Marid's formal table today—Marid ordered an appropriate meal for his guests, at least.

"How far have you advanced in your studies?" Lissa asked, watching Trik work his way around the veal on his plate by cutting it with the edge of a fork. Trik had given up years ago on any hope of holding a knife and fork at the same moment.

"I have read all of grandfather's history books—he doesn't have anything newer than sixty turns ago," Trik said, nibbling the piece of veal. He waited until he'd chewed his bite and swallowed before continuing. "The mathematics books are probably outdated as well, but likely are still good unless there have been new advances. If so, I would certainly like to see the new materials. I wish I had a comp-vid, but grandfather doesn't allow them in the house."

"Do you ever want to practice wizardry?" Another male—dark-haired and gray-eyed, asked from farther down the table.

Wizardry. Trik longed for that more than he longed for anything. Yet his hand—his grandfather had refused to consider wizardry for Trik because of his hand. Trik sighed.

"Don't tell us what others think," Lissa said quietly beside him. "Tell us what you think. What you want."

"I've always wanted it," Trik dropped his fork and lowered his good hand to his lap. "But I don't have two good hands."

"How do you feel about coming to live with strangers?" Lissa asked.

"I think it might be worth a try." Trik found almost anything more appealing than a sterile existence at a state-run facility.

"Trik, if you agree to do your best, I will agree to do my best in this matter." Lissa's blue eyes met his.

"Then I will do my best. If you wish for me to work to help earn my keep, then I will do what I can."

"Then we may put you to work," Lissa nodded. "Don't worry, everything we put in front of you will be within your ability and hopefully to your liking." Lissa patted Trik's shoulder.

"But what about your children?" Trik hadn't failed to notice those four. He hoped they wouldn't tease him or take his things away the moment the adults' backs were turned.

"Ask them."

Trik jerked his head up. "Now? Here?"

"Of course." Lissa smiled. Trik drowned in that smile.

"Don't worry, I think everybody wants you to come," Nissa leaned her head over her plate so Trik could see here easily.

"If you don't like it," Trik lowered his eyes again, "you can always take me to the home."

Trik, the voice came into his mind, shocking him speechless, I don't think that will be necessary.

* * *

"Don't worry, I'm new, too." Toff came to sit on the sofa next to Trik's motorized chair. "I've only been with them a few weeks. I—I love all of them already. Just be prepared for some of them to be, well, different."

"I know about different," Trik blew out a breath. "I've dealt with it all my life." He stared at his withered, useless leg.

"I think you have a better education than I do, and you've taught yourself," Toff went on. "I'm trying to catch up with my studies. Master Morwin is very patient."

"Master Morwin?"

"Our tutor," Ry came to sit next to Toff. Trik watched as the tallest of the males, Tory, sat beside Ry. Nissa was talking quietly with the black-haired, gray-eyed man in the corner.

"We'll have the same tutor?"

"I think so," Tory said. "I think they'll put you in our class," Tory pointed to himself and Ry.

"He won't be—is he—will he?" Trik couldn't think of a way to ask if Morwin would mistreat him because he wasn't whole.

"Hmmph. Wait until you meet him," Ry grinned. "He has bushy red eyebrows that wiggle when he talks. Don't ever point that out or you'll get extra homework for a week."

"What's taking so long?" Toff asked Nissa as she wiggled her way onto the sofa beside him. Toff put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

"Legal stuff—Marid wants to sign all rights over. Mom keeps asking him if he's sure he wants to give up the rights to his grandson. She's telling him that once he does it, he can't ever come back for any reason, even if he wants to. She's offering to let Trik keep the Belancour name if Marid still wants to consider him family."

"Let him sign it," Trik grumbled. He wasn't surprised that Marid wanted to get rid of him completely. Marid always considered Trik to be a useless mouth to feed.

* * *

"Ready?" Lissa looked tired but still she smiled at Trik. They gathered in the reception room again, Trik with them. Trik had only been transported this way twice in his life. His mother and grandfather could do it; they just seldom had seen fit to take him anywhere. Not that he didn't want to go; he did. They just hadn't wanted to take him along. Everything went dark for a moment, and then he found himself in a brightly lit space.

"Where are we?" Trik's heart stuttered and he stared in surprise. He'd landed in the rotunda of what looked to be—it couldn't be. He was inside an enormous library. They'd just looked for a place large enough to land all of them safely, he surmised. After all, there were at least twenty around him.

"Greetings, young one, this is the Palace of the Queen of Le-Ath Veronis," someone stepped forward to greet them. "Lissa, the Council meeting was a little bumpy today."

"That's Aurelius. Gavin's sire," Ry bent down to whisper to Trik as Trik stared at the golden-haired bear of a man who stood before him.

"What's the problem now?" Lissa really did sound tired.

"Lissa, I suggest you get something to eat and sit down to discuss this with Aurelius," Karzac said. "Connegar and Reemagar can go with the young ones."

"Why is Lissa discussing a Council meeting?" Trik looked up at Ry.

"He doesn't know," Ry grinned and elbowed Tory, who'd come to stand next to Trik's chair.

"Mom's the Queen," Nissa and Toff came to stand on Trik's other side. "And my Dad is Shadow Grey of Grey House," Nissa continued when Trik stared at her in shock. "Dad says you have talent, but until you go through the rite, he can't say how much for sure."

"But before that takes place, young one," Connegar grew before Trik's eyes and his skin turned blue, "Reemagar and I will see about healing as much of this as we can."

Trik couldn't speak for minutes as Connegar, a real, blue-skinned Larentii, lifted him from his motorized chair and folded him and the other teens into a spacious suite.

* * *

"It'll take a while to do all of it, and the muscles will have to be exercised," Ry said as he and the others admired what the Larentii had done with Trik's hand.

"Mom says that there are hospitals and clinics all over the Alliance that could have done this easier when you were a baby, but since Shaaliveer isn't an Alliance world, then your family would have had to pay for the medical care. It can be expensive," Nissa said.