Chapter 1

Stefen has a few regular places he likes to sit and busk, but his favourite is on the same block as the police precinct, in a little alcove next to the coffee shops the cops like to frequent. The cops don't have a lot to spare, but there are enough other passers-by to keep him fed.

Most of the cops couldn't care less if he's even licenced (he is), but some of them stop to make sure he has a place to stay and isn't being abused and knows he can call this number if he has any trouble. Being scrawny and wide-eyed attracts that sort of attention.

There's this one cop, Ashkevron, who he only ever sees if he's still around after sundown. He's not allowed to be busking after dark, but sometimes he brings his takings to the coffee shop and buys himself a warm cup of something or a sandwich.

"What did you do to Yfandes this time?" asks the cashier, as she rings up a large latte with gingerbread syrup. It will be Christmas soon.

"Following a lead without telling her again," says Ashkevron, shrugging. Ashkevron never seems to buy a drink for himself, just as an apology for his partner.

"You never learn. Sure I can't get anything for you?"

"No, but thank you," says Ashkevron. His eyes alight on Stefen. "Hey," he says. "You're around here a lot. Ever seen this guy?" He hands him a rough police sketch.

Stefen glances at the picture, then up at Ashkevron's eyes. Silver, he thinks, and as beautiful as the rest of him. "Yeah," he says. "I've seen him at the shelter on Fifth."

"Can you take me there?"

Stefen's eyes widen. "Y-yes," he manages to stammer out. "When? Now?" He looks down at his half-eaten sandwich.

"Just let me give my partner her coffee," says Ashkevron, as the barista calls his name.

Ashkevron is out the door and back before Stefen has finished the last of the crumbs. "Where's your partner?" asks Stefen, peering behind him curiously.

"Following another lead," says Ashkevron. Stefen thinks he's probably lying, but it's none of his business.

Stefen leads Ashkevron to the shelter and waits by the door as Ashkevron questions some of the regulars. He hopes this isn't going to cause trouble for him next time he wants to stay here. At last, Ashkevron seems to get the answers he needs and finds his way back to Stefen.

"Thanks," says Ashkevron awkwardly. "Look, if you ever—" He stops suddenly, his expression turning unfocussed. "Wait here," says Ashkevron, and stalks out the door.

Stefen stops for a moment in offence before following after him.

Ashkevron is already halfway up the block. As he rounds the corner, Stefen sees a couple of guys melt out of the shadows on the street and follow him. He glances around, but there's nobody here he'd trust to take Ashkevron's side. Cursing himself – he's no hero – he follows, hands stuffed into his ratty hoodie and trying to look like he's just minding his own business.

Ashkevron ducks into the alleyway that leads behind the shelter. What is he doing, Stefen wonders? Has he spotted his tails and thinks he can take them on on his own?

He picks up his pace and reaches the alleyway just as he hears a loud crash from one of the dumpsters. One of the pursuers is lying unconscious at Ashkevron's feet; the other Ashkevron has up against a dumpster. The guy's face is utterly slack and he's mumbling out answers to Ashkevron's questions as if in a daze.

Ashkevron turns and for a second Stefen sees glowing eyes and the flash of sharp canines before Ashkevron's face melts back to normal.

Holy shit, he thinks. Ashkevron is a vampire.

Chapter 2

Vanyel was woken from a sound sleep – rare enough in these times – by one of the nodes nearby utterly draining. He sat up in bed and peered blearily into the darkness around him. :Yfandes? Did you feel that?:

Yfandes' mindtouch was filled with concern. :Yes. There was a noise too, and some lights. I think there's someone here.:

Vanyel groaned and rolled out of bed. He lit a magelight and pulled on his whites. Outside the air had the beginnings of winter chill, although it was still only early autumn. Yfandes met him at the door and tossed her head to the right. :This way.:

The node was already starting to fill again, although it would be years yet before it reached the same capacity. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it now, nor anything to explain why it had suddenly drained. If there was a mage out there, his shields were so tight even Vanyel couldn't detect them.

:Here,: send Yfandes. :This is where I saw the lights.:

Vanyel rubbed his eyes. There was a building in front of him. A very small one, barely big enough to hold a few people standing side by side, and painted in a shade of dark blue he'd never seen before. There were words painted on it in a language he didn't understand.

"Hello there!" said the man standing beside the box. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his unusual coat and cocked his head to the side. "Am I lost? Where is this?"

"Are you—" repeated Vanyel helplessly. He reached out with his Mindspeech and reached only a wall of blankness, as if the man weren't even there.

"Dimension hopping," said the man. "Not how I prefer to do things, but then it's not really my choice, is it. Don't know what she was thinking. Magic and time travel do not mix at all." He stepped forward and held out a hand. "Hello. I'm the Doctor."

Vanyel stared at him.

"Go on, introduce yourself. And if you wouldn't mind telling me what universe I've jumped into that would help a lot. The TARDIS can't get me home without knowing how magic works here."

"I— er— you're in Valdemar. I'm Herald Vanyel Ashkevron."

The man's eyes widened. "Valdemar? The country with the magical white—" He looked at Yfandes with an expression of delight and wonder. "Wait. Did you say Vanyel Ashkevron?"

Vanyel groaned. Were even strange men with blue boxes going to react to his name like that?

Chapter 3

Somebody else punched out the guy who was about to give Vanyel a new black eye – to match the other one – and dragged Vanyel out of the bar by the scruff of his neck. "Hey!" he yelled. "What are you doing?"

His saviour and kidnapper was revealed to be a middle-aged woman with a startling resemblance to Vanyel's Aunt Savil.

Vanyel moaned. This was what he got for brawling so close to Starfleet Headquarters. Now that cute recruit he'd been working on would never take him seriously. Those jerks just had to pick a fight while Tylendel was there.

"I'm here," she said, words clipped to show exactly how lacking in sympathy she was for his predicament, "because your father received a letter from the local police and asked me to, quote, 'do something with the boy'."

"Aunt Savil—"

"Captain Ashkevron, to you."

Vanyel stared at her. "I'm not in Starfleet."

Savil threw a package at him. "You are now. I just got you a place in the academy, you can thank me later."

Vanyel laughed bitterly. "They'd never accept me."

"Lucky for you, I have pull with Starfleet. If you pass the entrance exams, you're in. C'mon, lad. Tylendel tells me you're at least half putting on your attitude for show."

"You know Tylendel?" Vanyel squeaked.

"He never mentioned me? And here I thought I was his favourite instructor." She shook her head. "I asked him to keep an eye on you."

Vanyel's heart sunk. So Tylendel hadn't been interested in him at all. It was all just a ruse to get closer to Vanyel. He shook his hair back behind his shoulder. "I don't need looking after."

Savil's expression turned sympathetic. "Vanyel, the Academy won't be easy. But it's a darn sight better than whatever you're doing here."

"I'll do the exams," said Vanyel. "But no promises on the rest."

Chapter 4

Vanyel sat cross-legged in his little corner of the attic, away from the disapproving noses of his family. Nobody came up here, and he didn't think any of them had realised yet that he'd figured out how to get into the attic from his bedroom. The rest of the room was covered in a fine coating of dust, speaking volumes of its disuse, but where he'd set up his computer was spotless.

He typed the start command and held his breath.

[Hello Vanyel.]

"Hello," said Vanyel. "What's your name?" If his voice-processing software was working correctly...

[My name is YFANDES.]

Vanyel cocked his head to the side. He'd programmed the AI to choose its own name, but what kind of name was Yfandes? "Does that stand for something?"

[Your First Active Networked Diagnostic Electronic System.]

Vanyel blinked. "That's a nice name," he managed.

[I'm glad you think so. I'm very pleased to finally meet you, Vanyel.]

Vanyel bit his lip. "Me too," he said. For the first time he could remember, he felt less utterly alone. "I'm so happy to meet you, Yfandes."

Chapter 5

Vanyel could not believe what he was seeing. "Is she really attempting a full Adept Manifestation? Right now? In Valdemar?"

"You'd know better than I would," said Stefen. He sounded amused.

"This shouldn't even be possible," said Vanyel. "The vrondi must be driving her to distraction. Most mages barely even manage to summon fire before they turn back."

"She doesn't seem to notice," Stefen observed.

Vanyel flung his hands up in the air, an action that was no less satisfying now that said hands were largely insubstantial. "Do you think Roald's Companion is helping her somehow? No, that sword of hers, maybe. There's powerful magic there."

"Do you think she's dangerous?" asked Yfandes, the first thing she'd said since the mage had begun casting her spell.

Vanyel deflated. "No. The Companion seems to trust her, and none of the Swordsworn would associate themselves with anybody who meant evil for long."

"Then I don't think we need to worry about it," said Stefen.

"You two have no sense of professional curiosity at all," Vanyel complained.