"Why are you here?" he asked.
"You sent for us, Master," Michael reminded him.
"Humpf." Carefully Astinus replaced his pen back in the inkwell. Folding his hands, he regarded the two impatiently.
"Well, go ahead. Ask your question. I'll have no peace until you do."
Michael stared. "How did you know I meant to ask — "
"Is that your question?"
"No, Master, it isn't, but — "
"Then out with it! Entire volumes of history are passing while you stand there yammering, wasting my time."
"Very well, Master. My question is this: Why were we directed here to search for the Disks of Mishakal when they are not here?"
"I beg your pardon," said Astinus. "I thought you came here searching for the answer."
"I came here searching for the disks that hold the answer," said Michael patiently. "I didn't find them."
"But did you find the answer?"
"I — " Michael stopped, taken aback. "Perhaps… Well, yes, in a way."
"And that is?"
"Those people out there are searching for the answer. Lord Soth was searching for his answer. The knights in the tower are searching for theirs. They were all looking, like we were, in the wrong place. The answer is here… in our hearts."
Astinus nodded, lifted his pen, delicately shook off a drop of ink. "And you discovered that without overturning my bookshelves. Gilean be praised."
"There is one more thing," said Nikol. She laid a bundle that clanked and rattled down on the floor in front of Astinus's desk. "Would one of your people see that this is returned to the knights in the High Clerist's Tower?"
"Your armor," said Astinus, still holding the pen poised above the inkwell. "Or should I say, your brother's armor. What's the matter? Ashamed of being thought a knight?"
"I am not!" Nikol retorted. "I would wear this armor with more pride than ever, but in the lands where we're planning to travel, the people don't use metal armor. They've never seen anything like it, in fact, and may be frightened."
"You are going to join up with the Plainsmen," Astinus said. He put his pen to paper, began to write. "Some of the few who still believe in the true gods. But, eventually, even their faith will weaken and dimmish and die. Still, your mother will be glad to see you, Cleric."
Nikol stared. "His mother! How did you know — We never told anyone — "
Astinus made an impatient gesture. "If that is all the business you have with me, Malachai will see you out."
Michael and Nikol exchanged glances. "He's not even going to say thank you," Nikol whispered.
"For what?" Astinus growled.
Nikol only smiled, shook her head. Malachai waited for them at the door. The two turned to leave.
"Cleric," said Astinus, without pausing in his work.
"Yes, Master?"
"Keep searching."
"Yes, Master," said Michael, taking hold of Nikol's hand. "We will."