Dark Unicorn Lurking: The research was quite enjoyable! But because of it there maybe a couple of days wait in between different festivals. Bitterosemary: I would have preferred to have done it in separate stories, but the majority of people want in carrying on, so I'm going to go with that. I found the Weiryn part flowed quite nicely when I wrote it. I may follow that up in one of the other festivals. Lady Salmalin: You'll find out here about Daine. Numair's will remain a mystery for sometime longer! Neal's Chick: Midwinter's next, so there will be fluff-a-plenty! Celuna Cirrus: Even in three chapters I will attempt to annoy you all by including a cliffy! Goldeneyedwildmage: Thank you indeed. I am going to keep it all in the same story. Dolphindreamer: I read an answer by TP about Kally not becoming a page, that it was because Jon had decided that there must be an arranged marriage in order to build up a link with another country, as there hadn't been on with him and Thayet, and he realised that that hadn't been the best thing for Tortall with regards to politics. I would prefer to think that she had chosen Kaddar, though. You're right about forgetting Thom, I completely missed that! I will go back and correct it at some point. As always, thank you! Daine's Daughter: I will be keeping it as one. Thank you. Lime 63: I write really quickly as well as teach full time, so I find I don't have the patience to go over things as I probably should. I like to get a chapter a day up, although as this is a busy week, it might take a couple of days before Midwinter starts! Keep reviewing! Your comments are appreciated. Kelsey: Thank you – what's your pen name? Alanna 22039: Thank you! Silverlake: I will be doing just that! Aravilui, Jessica, imakeladrygirl, Myrtle Riddle: Thank you for your reviews! Please carry on reading and reviewing, it makes my day! NB44: See what you think of the characterization in this chapter. It was a little difficult! Sonnet Lacewing: Most people wanted the stories to follow on. I was with you on that though. At least the stats will be bigger!

Disclaimer: Not mine, Tamora's, don't sue.

Chapter 3 – Opening the Door

Numair sat up straight, his hand clutching the black opal around his neck. The spirit of the man that Numair had wished to never see again stood up, away from the dying fire.

"Arram Draper," the spirit said in a rasping voice. "I thought I'd take this opportunity to pay you a visit, this fine Samhain evening."

"Well you don't have long," Numair warned, quickly searching his memory to see if he had ever read anything about the dead still being able to use their gift from when they were alive.

"I will have as long as I like, mage," the spirit almost cackled.

Numair sat back, remembering his studies. He knew that he had nothing to fear and that his visitor would certainly have to be gone by midnight, which was a mere third of the clock away.

"Why have you come here?" Numair asked mildly, hoping that neither Daine nor Alanna would wake and come in.

The spirit of Ozorne Muhassin Tasikhe sat down on the double seat where Alanna and George had been relaxing some time ago. His being was weaker than that of the other spirits Numair had seen at previous Samhains, Numair resulted this to the fact that Ozorne had not long since died, and therefore his spirit presence was not as strong as his father's had been two years ago.

"I was hoping to see the bastard child who killed me," Ozorne replied, his manner changing to that of a courteous royal, as he had been back in the days when he and Numair had been friends.

Numair flinched at the words. He disliked anyone saying anything insulting about his lover, particularly the man before him. "She's no bastard," he informed his enemy as calmly as he could. "She's the daughter of a god."

Ozorne laughed, a sound that froze the blood in Numair's veins. "And she's certainly no child now you've had your way with her. I knew that you were never just interested in her out of the goodness of your heart." Ozorne's words were spoken in a very reasonable and gentle manner, which only aided in expanding Numair's complete hatred of him.

"You wouldn't know what love was even if it cast a thousand spells over you. Even when you were alive, your heart was dead. The only person you ever cared about was yourself," Numair growled, feeling his heart beating inside his chest.

Ozorne flipped his head to one side like an interested parrot and smiled at Numair. "I had many lovers, though. I remember you asking me what to do once. You knew nothing without me, Arram Draper. Why, Varice Kingsford would never have looked at you if you weren't the friend of the future emperor of Carthak. You give yourself all these high and mighty morals now, Numair Salmalin, but I remember when you were just a silly little boy, following me round, hoping that I would feed you the scraps off my plate like you were one of the palace's flea bitten mongrels. After all, Numair Salmalin, that's all you were – a mongrel."

Numair bit his tongue for long enough to regain control. He had to keep reminding himself that Ozorne had no power, all his gift, all his stormwing magic had evaporated once he went to the realms of the Black God. Yet somehow, Numair wasn't convinced. Ozorne was too clever, too smart, to just reappear without having some trick prepared to spring on to Numair.

"How did you get here?" Numair asked his old friend, not rising to the insults that Ozorne had just passed.

"As you saw, through the fire," Ozorne replied, gesturing towards the said place.

Numair shook his head. "It's Samhain. There is no great power in fire tonight, that belongs to Beltane. The medium for this festival is air. You're not meant to be here, are you? There's not been enough time yet for you to pass over into the realms of the dead. What magicks are you tapping into?"

Ozorne looked curiously at Numair. "You were always too clever --such a book worm. That was why Varice stayed with me and didn't go with you when you left. She could never compete. She used to come crying to me sometimes, when you'd shunned her in favour of your books."

Numair began to wish he hadn't consumed so much of the potent mulled wine that George had made. Alcohol affected the strength of the gift. He was sure that he was going to need it.

"I never asked Varice to come with me anyway, you must know that. You have me, Ozorne. I cannot understand how you come to be here. Why don't you give me the benefit of your expert knowledge?" Numair bated him, hoping that he would either want to boast and tell Numair what he was about to be dealing with, or he would begin to use whatever magic he had accumulated.

Numair heard the door swing open and prayed to whichever gods he could think of that this would be Alanna or George and not Daine or one of the children. He knew that Daine still had nightmares about Ozorne, and he didn't want her to see him now, sat in George's living room almost as if he had never gone. He turned his head slightly and saw George stood there, no sign of shock or amazement on his face.

"Well, well," George said quietly. "We have a visitor."

Numair wondered what George would do. He had no gift, only the Sight, but he knew how mages worked and his quick brain would have already deduced what Numair needed to know. Numair just hoped that he wouldn't put himself at risk, but then, that would be exactly what Numair would do if the roles were reversed.

Ozorne smiled the self-assured, arrogant smile that he had possessed for as long as Numair had known him.

"You still haven't answered my question," Numair said, a little more sternly at the spirit.

"Who are you to talk to me like that?" Ozorne half-laughed.

"Ye're no emperor no more," George interjected, amusement in his tone. "You got killed. Ye' failed on yer' mission to finish off Salmalin an' Veralidaine, and ye've only managed to get yerself here by the use o' some tired, ol' magic that hasn't even done the job properly."

Numair could see Ozorne becoming irate at George's words.

"And who are you to insult me so? A common born thief married to some lose woman?" Ozorne laughed.

To his surprised George joined in the laughter. "Yes, I am all of that, and more besides."

Numair saw the faint glow resonating of the blurred shape of the former emperor. He realised that whatever spell he had used was nearly at an end. Hesitantly, he sent a glimmer of his gift to see if it would reverberate off Ozorne. It did, Ozorne laughed.

"I would have thought that the great Black Robe mage of Tortall would have known instantly what magic this is," Ozorne's shape grew a little clearer. "In fact we studied it together in our third year at the university."

Numair recalled instantly. "Auxilium Auguralis," he smiled wryly. "Power taken. You've transposed the energy from tonight - that's why you're so late – to be able to break your journey and come here. Surely you can't have missed me that much?"

Numair noticed George calmly sitting down on the chair nearest the fire. He wondered why he wasn't remaining prone or showing even the slightest hint of anxiety.

"You missed me," Ozorne said quietly. "Now you have no fight, no need to run. It's one huge anti-climax isn't it?" He lifted up his hand; Numair saw the multicoloured ball of gift that he held, magic so varied that Numair knew he would struggle to even deflect any of it safely. He wondered how much chaos Ozorne still contained, having acted as the pawn for Uusoae.

Using his gift he coated himself and George in a protective spell and quickly uttered three almost unintelligible words. At first nothing happened, then the fire where only the embers still glowed began to burst in to flames, this time spitting out in all different shades of every colour.

"Where's he gone?" George asked, almost asleep on the chair.

"Back from whence he came," Numair replied, "Into the fire."

"Was he real?" George asked, a little more awake.

Numair shrugged. "It's Samhain. It could quite easily have been the act of some wicked imp and I do hope it was that. I dislike the idea of Ozorne being able to reappear at festivals purely through using the amount of magical energy that is in the air."

"Even if that was him, I doubt he'll be able to do that again," a voice from the door interrupted. Alanna stood, wearing a long black night gown, her red hair hanging lose to her shoulders. "Samhain is the most magical of all the celebrations, so it's unlikely that there would be enough energy at any other time of year. Also it is when the veil between the worlds is at its thinnest. By this time next year, he will be in the realms of the dead, safely tucked away to face the mercy of the Black God. Unless someone emulates my brother and decides to bring back the dead," the last sentence was said with a wry, almost humorous tone to her voice.

"That is true," Numair agreed. He yawned loudly, forgetting he was in the presence of two other people. "Now it's happened I feel inclined to believe it was the work of some mischievous imp that had been summoned by someone's thoughts or wishes by accident."

Alanna nodded. "Thom was fixated by that fire all night. I would wager that he's seen some faerie playing in there, and hasn't said anything. He'll be wanting to do some experiment there tomorrow," Alanna wandered to the large fireplace where the flames had now shifted to their usual colour. "At least we don't need to stoke the fire now."

"That was what I had come ta' do," George grinned. "An' then I saw Numair havin' a nice chat with our ol' friend."

"How come you were so calm?" Numair asked curiously.

"Well, I never get too stirred up by things like that, anyhow, and with it being Samhain, I thought it would be some evil faerie having her fun," George replied, unscrewing a bottle and pouring himself a night cap.

"He's also had far too much of that mulled wine to become perturbed," Alanna said, frowning slightly at her husband. "I do think it was some faerie that had manifested itself to look like Ozorne." The bell in the main tower at Pirate's swoop called the midnight hour. "See, they were nicely away by midnight as well."

She began to ward the fireplace with protection spells, murmuring words that Numair could say in his sleep. Feeling calm once more he stood up to retire to his bed and Daine.

"I'll speak to Harailt about this when we get back to the palace," he told Alanna once she had finished. "Either way it will be interesting to discover what really happened."

Alanna nodded. "Everyone's safe now anyway. I have two of the mages we employ here to sleep in this room in case anymore happens. I doubt it – all the faerie folk will have to be back now as the veil will have grown thicker. You be off to bed, mage," she swiped at Numair with the blanket that Numair had found on top of him when he had awoke.

He walked quietly back to the bed chamber, undressing and shivering in the cold of the night and then jumping into the bed where Daine already was, a warm ball under the covers. He curled himself around her, his long legs overlapping hers. She stirred with the movement, and in the dim light he found himself looking into her grey-blue eyes.

"Hello," she murmured, moving her hands onto his bare chest, her fingers gently grazing over the scattering of black hair that grew there. Numair kissed her softly, his mind escaping from the events of a few minutes before.

"Don't you want to know what I wrote on my slip of paper as my promise for the New Year?" She asked him, her tone still drowsy, but with playfulness edging into it.

"I do actually," Numair replied, revelling in what her fingers were now doing. "You were the only one who didn't tell."

"I had two," she whispered, her mouth so close to his ear that he felt the words vibrate. "The first was to stop being so shy about things that I am sure of," she began to nibble at his earlobe, then lowered her mouth to plant butterfly kisses along his neck.

"What was the other?" Numair groaned, his own hands beginning to wander.

"To still concentrate in lessons with you," she told him, her voice disappearing under the covers.

Numair didn't reply.

-------------------------

Daine woke slightly later than usual the following morning, given the late hour before she had gone to sleep. She felt the same sense of pleasure that she had done each morning since she had moved in with Numair, waking up in his arms, feeling his skin pressed against hers. She remembered what he had told her the night before and shivered. Faerie or not, she did not like the idea of having to see Ozorne again. She began to wake her lover, gently prodding him to get his attention.

He opened one eye and looked at her. She recognised the glare and left him be, easing herself out of bed and pulling on breeches and a shirt. She new that George, at least, would now be up and about, and probably the children. Daine headed toward the private rooms of Baron Cooper, thinking about the events of the previous night. She had heard of such things once before when some of the Riders had been gathered in the stables at the palace one evening and were telling stories. One of them, Ashvin, had describe faerie folk playing a trick on his grandda, so the old man believed that his wife had come back from the grave and was cursing him for taking a mistress. Daine had laughed at the story, but now she realised how terrifying it would have been for the old man.

George was in the kitchen attached to the sitting room that they had been in the night before. Daine could smell the aroma of bacon and eggs being cooked and suddenly realised she was hungry. One of George's favourite pastimes was to cook, hence any servants or chefs were banished from this kitchen. These rooms were the place where he and Alanna and their three offspring could be an ordinary family. George Cooper was a man who still remembered his roots, and had no desire to see his children growing up anything less than grounded and wanted them to be appreciative of the privileges that they had. For this he insisted on having the use of a small suite of rooms that they treated as a family house, without maids or servants, and they learnt how to do things for themselves.

Daine sat down on one of the light wood chairs next to the large dining table where George was beginning to load hot plates with eggs, bacon and thick pieces of toast, laden with creamy, yellow butter.

"Has Numair woken yet?" George asked, placing lids over the plates to help keep the contents warm.

Daine shook her head as she hurried to swallow the mouthful of toast. "An eye opened when I got up, but closed fair quick. I think last night's activities tired him."

A wicked grin crossed George's lips. "Really? Please give no more details, Veralidaine. What goes on in your bedroom should remain private…"

Daine threw an evil glare at the man. "I wasn't referring to that," she defended. "Although…" she decided to try to not rise to George's teasing.

"Seriously, Daine, I heard the noises coming from your room, you need say no more," George smiled victoriously as she blushed. He had heard no such thing, of course, but he could never resist tormenting the new couple.

Thom and his little sister entered, ceasing the conversation as they sat at the table. Alianne had obviously dressed herself, buttons fastened in the wrong holes, and she had forgotten to brush her hair. Daine alighted from her seat and went over to the small girl, showing her how to button up her shirt from the bottom up, and then she wouldn't get mixed up.

George saw Numair watching Daine and Alianne's interactions from the doorway, Numair's eyes filled with a mixture of emotions. George grinned, recognising the feelings that Numair was probably going through, and remembering his and Alanna's early days as a couple, when bed was not a place for rest and the future was too bright to look towards.

"Any theories on last night yet?" George asked the tall man once he had sat down at the table and applied an egg and several slices of bacon to two pieces of toasted bread.

"I'm inclined to think it was some kind of sprite," Numair replied once he had swallowed his first mouthful.

"What happened?" Thom voiced from helping his sister cut her bacon with the small, rather blunt knife she used. No one had dared give Aly a proper knife yet.

Numair looked at George for permission to speak about this topic to his son. George nodded. Aly was too interested in her breakfast to listen to the tale, and Thom would undoubtedly here much worse things sooner or later, than visit from a once gifted mage.

"We saw Ozorne emerge from the fire last night. We aren't entirely sure if it was him or if it was some Samhain menace," Numair explained briefly.

Thom went a little red, and Numair's eyes widened, putting two and two together and making at least five. The boy was a student at the University and he knew that he had amazing potential as a future strong and brilliant mage. Numair wondered if he had been playing around with a little magic the night before.

"Is there something you want to tell us, son?" George asked, his voice stern but unthreatening.

"It… it… was nothing…" Thom began, stuttering, his cheeks now fully red.

"It was obviously something," Numair answered, as gently as he could. "No harm was done, so why don't you tell us. You won't be in any trouble."

Thom sighed at looked at the table, suddenly finding his sister's breakfast extremely interesting. "We had a book in the dorms about spells that could be done at Samhain."

"What was it called?" Numair asked, knowing what damage exuberance, mischief and a powerful book could do from his own university days.

"Libellus Concubius," Thom replied, knowing full well that Numair would not be happy with the knowledge that any of the students at Thom's level had had such a text.

Numair matched Thom's sigh. "You did the Adoro abdo Accingo spell?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Thom nodded. George and Daine looked puzzledly over at Numair. Alianne smothered herself in butter and egg yolk, wondering why no one was paying her much attention and enjoying the fact that she could get messy for once.

"You realize that doing a spell such as that on Samhain could have had drastic consequences, had the spell been successful?" Numair's voice was now at its most awful. Daine felt sympathy for the boy; he obviously hadn't realised the depth of what he was doing and had probably acted out of curiosity.

"Numair," she interrupted. "I'm sure that you have made similar errors when you were Thom's age. He looks very sorry," she looked toward Thom whose eyes had filled with tears that he was desperate not to shed in front of one of his heroes.

Numair sighed once more and settled back in his chair, his large hands clasping a giant mug of tea that Daine had passed him in an attempt to pacify him slightly.

"You're excused Thom," George said to his son. "Could you find Alan and bring him here for breakfast please? And tell your mother that she's had enough of a lie in!" George looked at his friend. "What did this spell do?"

Numair looked at the older man. "I'm sorry for telling him off, George," he uttered.

George shook his head. "He needs to learn," he said simply.

"The spell he used opens the door to what is termed as "the passing dead"; those who have not reached their resting place. It's powerful, and he has shown quite astonishing potential by being mildly successful at it, although he was obviously aided by the fact that it was Samhain and all that that entails," Numair explained.

"So was it Ozorne?" Daine asked quietly.

Numair shook his head. "It's a spell used by people who are grieving and wish to see that person one last time. It calls back an element of their spirit by interfering with the consciousness of the person in grief in order for the magic to look like the dead and it will then speak as the griever expects them too. It is meant to provide comfort. Thom must have cast the spell fairly early on in the evening and it took some time to work. When it was operating, I was the only person around whose consciousness it could feed off, hence I saw Ozorne."

"How could it have turned out badly?" George inquired, cracking more eggs to feed Alanna and Alan with.

"If it had been stronger it could have toyed with some dangerous things in my mind and attacked me quite easily. Opening a door into your brain like that is not recommended unless you have protected yourself strongly. Thankfully, Thom's not adept enough yet to have produced a powerful enough spell to do that; although I have no doubt that he will be in the near future. I'll have to tell Harailt to keep close watch on him," Numair answered, his eyes clouding over at the thought of having another great mage in Tortall, who would hopefully carry on from him at some point in the not too near future.

"He's been sad over the death of one of the horses we had here, a stallion that died of old age a few weeks ago. Maybe he was wanting to see him one last time as he was at the university when he died and I think he felt that he hadn't had chance to say goodbye," George offered, his face looking thoughtful.

Numair stood up. "I'll go and see if he's alright," he muttered, nearly knocking a glass of juice over as he rose.

Daine looked at George. "Well at least we know it wasn't really Ozorne," she said, matter-of-factly.

George nodded. "Wait till Alanna hear this story about one of her children!"

"Don't you mean "our" children?" Daine corrected.

George shook his head. "When they step out o' line they are definitely her children!"

Daine laughed, helping George to tidy up for when Alanna joined them

--------------------

They regrouped after breakfast to walk down to the field where the bone-fire had been the night before, Thom and Numair staying deep in discussion the whole way there. It was tradition on the day following the bone-fire that the ashes of it were spread across the fields, helping to prepare the ground for the new year, when hopefully an abundance of crops would be successfully grown.

Daine was also anxious to collect the stones that she and Numair had thrown into the fire, wondering what the future would hold for them.

She looked around at the party she was walking with and noticed Kalasin's expression now looking more optimistic than it had done for several weeks. She linked her arm through the younger girl's and smiled warmly at her, hoping that she would now feel more secure in knowing something of what the future held for her.

They reached the spot where the bone-fire had taken place, now a heap of ash. People were searching for stones that they had thrown in, longing to know what treats fate would hold for them in the coming year.

Daine stepped into the melee, looking to where her and Numair's stones seemed to have landed the night before. Scanning round, she began to feel disheartened when she could find neither stone.

Numair came to join her, seeing the worried look upon her face and feeling his heart lurch as he understood what she was feeling.

"Never mind, Magelet, maybe someone has picked them up by mistake," he comforted, putting an arm around her small waist.

"Aren't these them?" A voice called from nearby. "The stones were feldspar, weren't they?" The pair looked up to see Thom holding a large stone in the palm of his hand. They stepped over to him, inspecting his find.

"But we threw in two separate stones," Daine muttered.

"They've welded together in the heat of the fire," Numair said, taking the stone from Thom's possession.

Daine looked at him, fascination and amusement shining in her eyes. "Does this mean we're going to have an accident with glue and become stuck together, then?" She jested.

"I think you got stuck with me a long time ago," Numair said softly, bending down to illustrate his words with a kiss, his hopes high for their future after the sign that fate had sent them.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I'll go with what most of you suggested and follow on the next short story from this, so Midwinter Part 1 should be up shortly. I am researching quite a lot for each one, so there might be a break of a day in between stories, although it's half term next week, so I'll probably spend most of my time writing. Please review - I can't believe how many reviews this story has already! It's been amazing, so thank you everybody who has reviewed - please continue!