The velvety Savannah night spread above him studded with stars.  So few stars, so close to the city.  Pity.  Pity there was no one to share the darkness with him tonight.  It would be nice to have company.

The wood railing, worn smooth by generations of men standing where he was looking out at the stars, was comforting tonight.  There were many ways to not be alone.

The grassy slope stretched down below him, a gentle cascade of soft velvet, silver under the moonlight.  The pond rippled like a pool of power.  Yes, tonight that silvered lake could bring forth a sword for a righteous king... or a demon to eat the unwary.  There was only one way to tell.

A soft cough sounded at his elbow and he turned, stroking the short deep chestnut goatee.  The black silk of his button up and the black slacks made him look sinister to the staff.  Another pity.  He smiled and took the wine the woman offered.  

"Thank you, Ethel.   When the guests arrive, would you please show them in?"  He smiled and knew his eyes were an unsettling amber tonight.  Well, that couldn't be helped either.

"Certainly, sir.  Is this about..."  She cut herself and shook her head.  "Never mind."

He smiled and turned back to the night sky, breathing in deeply the air of the sea, though their little lake hardly counted.  It was less than two miles to the ocean from here and the sea breeze carried only freshness with it tonight.  Tonight.

But the tang of power lingered.  Sipping the vintage one finger traced the patterns woven into the crimson of his tie.  A silly patterning.  To anyone but him.  Best to lay the groundwork now.  Best to do this alone.

He closed his eyes, shutting out the stars.  Shutting out the moon.  Shutting out the call of the night birds.

Set aside the scent of the sea.  Set aside the distant smells of the food made ready for his guests.  Focus on only the power.  His fingers traced the ridges in the tie.  Contrary to what some thought, there was no hidden meaning in the ridges.  No hidden power.  But it helped him focus as he wove more intricate workings of power himself.

Powers of unlocking and unbinding.  What would come his way this time? 

The veil of powers thinned and a sense of trouble leaked through.  Well that he had expected.  Faint hints of music came from below.  Natoli and Sergei must have arrived.  The rhythm of their magics, and his wife's, pulsed with the music.  Her fire to their swords.  

Set it aside.

He pulled his own powers more closely about him, weaving an intricate shape with only his will.  He needed no physical displays for power to obey him.  Back and forth weaving substance from power, even if it was only symbolic substance.

Weight built in his hand, even as joy built from below, a distraction now... it would be  a relief later.  The shape fought him.  It always did when he didn't know what form the binding or unbinding would take.  Knowledge was always easier.  

At last a solid weight settled into his hand in the form of an unpreposing key... now he simply had to find which poor soul he was supposed to unbind with it.  Natoli and Sergei had been unbound already, as had his wife Mary.  But tonight there would be a new soul to add to their network.  

Hopefully they were willing to cooperate.  Willing or not they were needed and at it was up to him to persuade them.  No one had promised him this job would be easy.

David Thudy slid the little two inch key into the pocket of his black dress trousers and turned towards the house, away from the stars.  It was time to go to work.

***

The press of bodies, smiling and laughing, assailed his sense of touch, even as the pounding of the music was assailing his ears.  Normally he wouldn't consider classical 'pounding' but someone had decided Wagner's Ring cycle was the music of the day.

Too loud.  Conversations bounced around him with maniacal cheer. He stroked the cool side of his drink with a thumb, drawing patterns in the beads of moisture on its side.  

Someone jostled him and murmured an apology, and he murmured appropriate pleasantries, edging more towards the fringes of the room.  The scent of wine, perfume, and the savory spice of the food added to the noise and crowding.

Brightly clad guests shifted and flowed like candlelight through shattered glass.  Breath.  Even in this heavily laden air.  His back met the bookshelf and he relaxed, at least a little.

He slowly twisted the wine glass in his hand, allowing himself one single sip of the sharp garnet vintage.  Savoring the heady flavor.  He'd never been fancy enough to learn the terms, but he knew good wine when he tasted it, and he bet whoever selected this vintage, did know all the fancy wine terms.

The crowd shifted and he let himself drift further and further from the main throng.  Blue eyes scanning restlessly.

Why had he accepted the invitation?  He knew none of these people, and his short cropped nearly black hair, and simple polo shirt and jeans was as out of place as a hawk amongst cardinals. But Wesley had said it was worth considering and they went way back. 

No, better not to think of that either.  Breath.  His head began to ache.  He let his free hand run along the spines of the books and wished he dared look at them.  That would mean turning his back on the room.  No.  

"Joseph Damrin?"  The voice was light and pleasant, and the figure who stepped out of the throng was dressed soberly.  Head to toe black in what was a jacket away from being a full business suit.  The dark hazel eyes smiled, but there was something in his demeanor that set Joseph on edge.

"Yes, sir."  Some habits died hard, but the man had offered no offense to justify discourtesy.

For a moment the newcomer simply inspected him and Joseph felt his stomach knot.  He was doing something.  But the skin crawling feeling was only too familiar.  Then the man nodded as if satisfied with something.

"David Thudy.  If you have a moment, I would like to speak to you," He motioned towards a small side door away from the main guests.

Well if it got him out of this crowd... he could probably take one man if he had to and he wasn't exactly unarmed. Besides, David Thudy was the name on the invitation. Insulting his host was a good way to get thrown out but a bad way to find out what all this was about.  He had just suddenly a sinking feeling he might not want to know as much as he thought he did.  "Your home, lead the way, sir."

His host turned without, apparently any concern what Joseph might wind up doing to him.  Now was that just the usual incaution most civilians had? Or was there something else at play? Unfortunately there was only one way to find out.