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  Bardon rested a hand on the servant’s shoulder. “I will.”

  “Go then.” Namutdonlowmack sniffed and gestured toward the steps. “The gateway’s at the top.”

  Bardon bolted up the stairs and through the portal. He emerged in Paladin’s palace courtyard. One of the two guards on duty escorted him directly into a chamber where Paladin was conversing with two emerlindian grands.

  All three men rose as the footman announced their visitor.

  “Good,” said Paladin as he came to greet Bardon. “Now we have a warrior to send forth. Enough of our academic splitting of straws, gentlemen. Wulder has provided us with eyes and ears. Come in, Sir Bardon. Tell us what you have discovered.”

  “Do you know of the Followers?”

  “Yes, and we are concerned. More than concerned. Ready to gather information so we might act wisely.”

  “They say you initiated their work.”

  Paladin gently shook his head as he guided his knight to a chair. “And you have reason to doubt, of course. We have yet to determine exactly where this offshoot sprang out of the main branch. We know these Followers have taken what was initiated from this office and forced it to grow in a direction not intended. They’ve grafted on a foreign branch and are trying to pass it off as the tree itself.”

  Bardon sat with Paladin and his two advisors. “What do you want me to do, sir?”

  “I hear you’re going on a quest to find the meech colony.”

  “Yes, but I can put that aside if you have another mission for me.”

  “No, this suits our purpose well. You will have a legitimate reason to be seeking information and to be away from your usual business. Go on your quest, Sir Bardon, but along the way, gather the facts we need to face our new enemy.”

  “Enemy? These are mariones and o’rants, our own people.”

  Paladin’s eyes saddened, his face grew more solemn. “It is true that the enemy we face so often turns out to be ourselves.”

  8

  BEFORE THE BALL

  Kale came out of the side room to find Bardon alone in their quarters. “Where—?”

  “I sent the minor dragons out to explore and perhaps bring back some tidbits of useful information.”

  Kale nodded and unbuttoned her blouse. She would hang up her clothes and give them a thorough cleaning before she rearranged the fabric and color to make her evening gown.

  “That water closet is amazing, Bardon. Namee has a cylinder tank that holds water for a bath. The water is heated right there.” She mumbled more to herself than to her husband as she continued to hang her clothes on the wall hooks provided. “Not all of his guests are wizards who can heat their own water. I’ve studied it and see the principle upon which it works but haven’t figured out all the details.” She draped her split-skirt next to her blouse.

  Bardon lounged against a wall, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not very interested in Namee’s system for hot bath water.”

  “What?” Kale turned toward him and saw the look in his eye. “Oh.”

  “I am alone with my wife. Toopka is gone. The dragons are gone. I thought…”

  “I know what you’re thinking. Even with Namee’s block on mindspeaking, I know what you are thinking.”

  “I’d like to kiss my wife.”

  “You are having a string of excellent ideas today, Sir Bardon.”

  “You’re no longer grumbling against my plans?”

  “Who, me? Grumble?”

  An hour later, Kale stirred from a light sleep to sounds from the water closet. Bardon splashed in the tub, obviously having taken an interest in the water heated above the porcelain receptacle.

  Kale pulled the covers close around her and gazed at her clothes. The material began to shake as dirt and oils were vibrated out of the individual threads of the fabric. After she freshened the cloth, she removed the color and infused the basic blouse and skirt with a soft yellow. That pleased her, and she attached the skirt to the bodice she transformed out of the shirt. She rearranged the waistband, making it a wide sash over a full skirt with an added swag of creamy white. She shook her head and dropped the added feature. The material tumbled to the floor.

  “What color would you like me to wear?” she called.

  Her lips moved to form the word pink just as Bardon answered, “Pink.”

  She sighed and, with a nod, changed the yellow to a pale pink. Since the ballroom would be crowded and hot, she chose a lighter fabric and spent some time loosening the weave of the material she worked with. She removed the buttons on the front and made a solid bodice with a scooped neck. She decided against sleeves of any kind as she got up to pull gloves from one of the hollows of her cape. By the time Bardon came out of the bath, her gown was ready, and she had cleaned his clothes and reshaped them into evening attire. She hadn’t asked what colors he would prefer, because she knew he would answer green and black. He truly had no imagination.

  “You should wear a tiara,” he suggested.

  “I hate wearing a tiara. It always sparks.”

  “It sparkles.”

  “It sparks, and you know it. I nearly caught a curtain on fire at the urohm wedding.”

  “The affair needed a little more excitement.”

  “I need a bath.”

  He stepped out of the doorway, made a bow, and swept his arm toward the water closet.

  “I’ve used all the hot water.”

  “It’s a good thing, then, that you married a woman who can heat her own bath.”

  When they were dressed and ready to go down to dinner, a tap on the window announced the arrival of a minor dragon.

  Bardon unlocked the casement and pulled the glass panel open. Filia and Tieto flew in, gave Bardon a disgruntled glance, and landed on Kale.

  “You locked them out?” Kale tried to look stern but barely hid her amusement.

  He shrugged.

  “Oh dear,” she responded to a bit of news Tieto related.

  “What is it?”

  “He says he doesn’t like the aura he sees around some of the guests.”

  “Pretender’s people?”

  Kale shook her head as she puzzled over the continued chittering of the unhappy dragon. “Tieto says the light contains threads that look almost identical to those surrounding teachers of Wulder’s Tomes.”

  “Almost?”

  “Yes, but the difference is so subtle, he can’t discern the discrepancy. He wishes Regidor were here.”

  “That’s one person I know will not be attending tonight.” Bardon tilted his head, studying Tieto. “He matches your dress well enough. Bring him along, and maybe we can ferret out the underlying cause of his dislike.”

  Kale looked at the blue and green dragon and at her pink dress. They didn’t clash, but the dragon would not blend in either. Filia came along, and as they walked down the hall, Kale allowed the dress to absorb the colors reflected off the pink and purple dragon. The original shade altered subtly to form a good backdrop for Filia clinging to her sleeve. For Tieto, Kale arranged a shoulder cascade of flowers, one of which was the blue and green dragon.

  When they entered the banquet room, a servant ushered them to a partially filled table. Kale embraced Sir Dar, Wizard Cam Ayronn, and Lord and Lady Brunstetter. Leetu Bends, Lee Ark, and his lady wife greeted Kale and Bardon. Leetu went so far as to hug Kale and plant a kiss on her cheek. Bardon’s father, Sir Joffa, blustered in his usual way and clapped both Bardon and Kale on the shoulders. His pride for his son shone through his gruff exterior. Shimeran and Seezle, two kimens she hadn’t seen since her first quest, sat on the far side of the table on raised chairs.

  Wizard Namee had worked some spell that subdued the sound in the crowded room. She knew she spoke in a normal tone, but the words floated softly to the listener, without disturbing those at other tables. And she heard distinctly any comment made to her. But the voices of all the guests together only made a soft murmur, not unlike the sound of the sea quietly advancing on a sa
ndy shore and then flowing back.

  A string quartet played dinner music, and each note drifted above the dining crowd without hindering individual conversations.

  Kale soaked in the sight of so many dear faces and relished each bit of news, but the aroma of seared meat and the buttery sauces held no appeal. She visited with first one person and then another, discussed ideas with several people at once, and expressed joy at hearing the good news among them. She ignored her plate.

  Bardon drew her attention by placing a hand on her arm and leaned in to whisper, “Are you all right?”

  “Of course, why do you ask?”

  He pointed to her untouched kitawahdo, a tumanhofer bean dish that she ordinarily devoured.

  “I must be too excited to eat. My stomach is bubbling, and I have a tight place, like a muscle spasm.” She placed her hand over the top of her abdomen. “Right here.”

  “Can you call for Gymn?”

  She concentrated for a moment. “Horse feathers! What has Namee done here? I’ll send Filia to find him.”

  The small dragon flew away, and Bardon put a piece of bread broken from a round loaf in her hand. “Here, eat this. You may just be hungry. You haven’t touched your food.”

  Kale laughed. “I’m too busy talking. It is so good to be here. Thank you again, Bardon, for dragging me away. I think I could go back home and be content for years on this one evening alone.”

  “Nothing doing, lady of mine, we’re off on a quest tomorrow.”

  Kale sighed, nibbled on the bread, and soon got interested in a story Sir Dar told of a castle being built by one of the mountain wizards.

  “Perhaps a relation of mine,” she whispered to her husband. “My mother comes from the mountains.”

  “Is that why she is seemingly ageless?” Bardon grinned. “As old as the hills, but beautiful in a majestic way?”

  Kale narrowed her eyes at him but couldn’t contain the twitch at the corner of her mouth that threatened to bloom into a smile. “My father is from the hills. My mother is from the mountains. A definite distinction is made among the families.”

  “Snobbery,” said Bardon.

  “Exactly,” said Kale.

  “Next, your relations will be looking down their noses at my ears.”

  She giggled. “I love your ears. A half-emerlindian is just what this stodgy old family needed.”

  “Your mother is not stodgy.”

  “And my father is?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t say it. You did.”

  Wizard Namee approached and claimed their attention. As host he walked from table to table, greeting his guests.

  “I am particularly happy to see you, Lady Kale. Regidor and I have perfected a weaving of the old gateway spell that innovates—” he broke off, cleared his throat, and continued. “But that’s a treat for tomorrow. Before you all leave, I will gather the wizards who have graced this evening’s celebration and teach you the weave. Then you can teach it to those you meet as you travel.”

  “Celebration?” asked Kale. “I’m sorry. I don’t know the occasion.”

  “Life! Life is the occasion. I envy your going on a quest, a peaceful quest, at that. I’m too old to be gallivanting around the countryside.” He smiled, patted her shoulder, the one that didn’t hold the flowers and Tieto, and wandered off to attend to his other company.

  Tieto climbed out of his camouflage and nestled against Kale’s chin.

  “Bardon, Tieto says that Namee’s aura is off, pushed to one side as if something was trying to get in from the outside.”

  “Odd.” He watched the man as he moved away.

  Namee now spoke to a gentleman urohm, and although the large man spoke with a booming voice, they could only make out a whisper of sound from the conversation.

  Kale leaned against Bardon’s side. “He doesn’t look a bit different to me. Yet Tieto insists something is amiss.”

  Bardon placed his arm around her shoulders. “I don’t detect anything in his manner that is untoward.” He shook his head. “Now I’m wishing Regidor were here.”

  Filia returned with Gymn, who wrapped himself around Kale’s neck. The little healing dragon was unconcerned that someone might comment on the Dragon Keeper bringing her entourage to the banquet. Truthfully, dragons didn’t like to mix with the high races in their festivities. They thought the activities always overdone.

  Kale’s stomach settled immediately, but she still ate sparingly, giving more bites to the three dragons than to herself.

  The musicians ended a song, packed up their instruments, and left the raised platform at one end of the room.

  Moments later a chorus of trumpets heralded the beginning of the ball. The guests filed out through several sets of open doors and entered a dazzling white hall where shining alabaster walls glistened with pale yellow lightrocks. Pillars supported a towering ceiling too far above their heads to discern the structural design. Magnolias, gardenias, lilies, and sprays of snowdrops twined around each column. Minuscule, but brilliant, pastel lightrocks nestled in the green vines.

  Wizard Namee led his lady to the center of the dance floor and bowed to the orchestra to begin. Kale was not educated in music other than tavern songs and ballads that the wandering minstrels sang. Bardon named the tune and the composer for her. The melody enchanted her. Gracefully, Namee and his wife twirled around the room. When they had completed one turn, others began to join them on the polished floor.

  “Kale, would you like to dance?” Bardon bowed to his lady wife.

  “Not yet. May we watch?”

  “Of course.”

  They sat in dainty chairs set against the wall. Rows of seating encircled the dance floor in three tiers, the highest against the wall, the next level just in front of that, and the lowest level on a platform eight inches above the floor. The chairs were grouped in sizes so that kimens and urohms could each find a comfortable place to rest. Outside on the veranda, seats were clustered for socializing between the races.

  After the third dance, the lights dimmed and the orchestra began to play a piece that reminded Kale of music she had heard Sir Dar play on his flute. The partners on the floor stood still. They couldn’t see well enough to proceed. Between the dancers, shimmering lights began to appear.

  “Kimens,” whispered Kale.

  The small creatures danced, twirling between their larger counterparts, circling couples, then spinning away and gliding in and out of the unmoving spectators.

  Kale took Bardon’s hand and stood. “I want to dance with the kimens.”

  They hurried to the floor. Bardon encircled her waist with one arm, held her other hand, and sailed into the midst of the others. Two by two, the couples shook off the awe of the beautiful kimens surrounding them. The colors of the kimens’ lighted garb reflected off the shiny material of the dancers’ clothing. “It’s like being inside a kaleidoscope,” Kale whispered. “The shifting colors could be disconcerting, but you know they’re held together by a pattern even if we can’t see the overall design.”

  “Very philosophical, but that reminds me of a principle.” Bardon pulled her closer, laid his chin against her hair, and murmured in her ear. “Don’t go analyzing it, Light Wizard Kale. Some things are meant just for us to enjoy.”

  “That’s not a principle.”

  “Ah, but it is, an underlying principle that shows itself in many of the more formal wordings.”

  She felt him stiffen. “What is it?”

  “I see evidence of Tieto’s concern.”

  Kale’s head swiveled so that she could look all around them. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Our kimen friends are dancing freely among us, but there are those that they never circle, never come close to. I surmise that these are the folks that Tieto has identified as having an odd aura.”

  “Oh, dear.” Kale sighed. “Things are never perfect, are they?”

  9

  EARLY MORNING CONFLICT

  Bardon slipped out of bed, dresse
d, strapped on his sword, and left his wizard wife for his rendezvous with Sir Dar, Lee Ark, Lord Brunstetter, and Wizard Cam. Mikkai came along to provide directions to the exercise field. Tieto chirred his displeasure over such a short night’s sleep. He refused to fly, remained perched on Bardon’s shoulder, and grumbled at being required to keep an eye out for tainted auras. He claimed all were skewed after so little sleep.

  Bardon’s footsteps echoed in the great hallways. He passed only a few people, mostly servants. They nodded in deference to a guest, but he grinned at their drooping eyelids and slow, shuffling steps. Most likely, no one eagerly jumped out of their beds this morning.

  Sunshine greeted him as he stepped out onto a lawn that stretched over a rolling hill and ended at the base of a cliff. Those who had managed to rise that morning sparred in pairs or did forms in a line. Bardon unbuckled his belt, removed his outer jacket and boots, and laid them on a bench with Tieto and Mikkai standing watch over his possessions. He joined a group of men and two ladies who performed slow, dance-like stretches.

  Bardon’s body responded to the movements as if he had never burned with the fever of stakes. He breathed deeply and felt energy flow from his core to his fingertips. With the next measured lift of his right leg, he swung it easily to the side and down. A burst of vigor made it hard not to speed up beyond the required slow motion into a more energetic expression of pleasure. Perhaps this time the kimens’ treatment would last forever. Perhaps he wouldn’t return to that stiff condition that had almost paralyzed him.

  He located Lee Ark with a group of men who were further along in the routine exercises. Sir Dar and Wizard Cam ambled onto the field a few minutes later. Bardon became engrossed in his forms and laughed at himself later when he saw that the giant urohm Brunstetter had somehow slipped into the activities unnoticed.

  When Bardon finished his regimen, he joined Lee Ark to wait for the others. The men sat on benches along the castle wall. Servants brought them towels to wipe away the perspiration and tankards of cool well water.

  “Ah,” said Bardon as he took a slow draft and wiped his lips on the back of his sleeve. “Wizard Namee has a sweet supply.”