Bardon knelt beside the table as if he were kneeling before a sovereign of one of the many provinces of Amara.

"I am well. Thank you," said Mistress Seeno with a nod of her head.

Her high-pitched voice barely reached his ears. He leaned forward slightly and cocked his head.

The minneken smiled. "And you?"

Bardon blinked, and a grin spread across his face. "Pardon me, Mistress, but I am trying to remember every bit of geography, history, and folklore of the Isle of Kye. Until this moment, I thought Kye was the name of an inaccessible island."

"It is mostly inaccessible." Her small, twinkling black eyes moved to Granny Kye. When the minneken smiled, a row of tiny white teeth gleamed between thin lips. The front two were quite a bit larger than the rest. "There have always been members of the Kye family who fly in on the strongest dragons. The air currents are as treacherous as the pounding surf battering our sheer cliffs."

"Am I right in assuming that Granny Kye is a member of that family and has visited the Isle?"

"Partially. She is a Kye of Kye Island but was born on the mainland. I don't think she has ever ventured out to our little paradise."

Granny Kye shook her head and placed a hand on her chest. "Oh dear, no. Never."

Jue Seeno tapped her fingertips together, then folded her hands in her lap. "Very rarely does one of the minnekens leave the isle." She preened a bit, one small gray hand touching the collar of her cape. "I believe I'm the first in over five hundred years." Her beady eyes turned back to stare earnestly at the squire. "Most of what you had categorized as folklore, you may now move under history. In talking to N'Rae, who is a woefully ignorant child due to her upbringing, though we're rectifying that"-she smiled briefly at N'Rae-"I've discovered that the folktales among the seven high races concerning the minnekens are based mostly in fact."

Bardon's ears perked up. "That raises a question often debated at The Hall, Mistress Seeno. Wulder created the seven high races, yet no mention is made of how other races came into being. The dragons are intelligent and could be said to be a race. And now that I know minnekens are more than just fable, I wonder how this race came to be."

The tiny lady tilted her head and looked quizzically at the young man kneeling before her.

"Wulder is the Creator of all," she said.

"I agree."

"The books He has given to guide and instruct deal with this land. There is no reason why they would mention the creation of life in other places."

"What other places, Mistress Seeno?"

"Places too far to imagine." She smoothed her shiny gray fur with tiny hands. "And this is a conversation for after dinner over a cup of tea, under a starlit sky in summer, or by the hearth in winter."

N'Rae stirred beside him. "Now that you are accustomed to her voice, your ears should be able to make out her words from a greater distance."

Bardon stood and faced her. "How great a distance?"

She grinned. "Four, maybe five feet." Then she scowled. "I'm not so totally ignorant."

"I'm sure you aren't."

"My mother and I lived with a band of ropma for many years. My mother educated me. We didn't have books to read, but she told me everything she could remember."

He looked at her gentle face and asked, "You lived with ropma?"

"Yes, I liked them. But after Mother died, they became afraid that I would endanger their band by being with them."

"How could you do that?"

Granny Kye carried a pot of tea to the table. "We'll talk of that as we eat. Sit, children."

After Granny asked Wulder's blessing on their food and fellowship, they passed around the simple fare. Heavy crockery served as their dinnerware. The bowl from which the minneken ate looked like an acorn cap. Her tin drinking cup had no handle. Miniscule eating utensils were also fashioned out of tin.

The tea in Bardon's mug tasted spicy. The dark brew warmed his throat and took the edge off his trepidation concerning these women. He bit into a chunk of bread and savored the sweet, nutty taste. His appetite awakened, and for a few minutes, he concentrated on enjoying the food.

He noticed the silence around the table. He rarely ate alone and expected chatter during the meal. In the palace dining hall, rapid social prattle would have accompanied each repast. Bardon would answer appropriately but allow those more skilled in social graces to carry the conversation. When out on expeditions, the men swapped stories. Bardon listened well.

Shifting uncomfortably, he wondered if he should initiate a conversation. He wiped his mouth with the napkin provided. "So, how long have you been staying in the mountains?"

"We spent the winter here," said N'Rae.

"Alone?"

"Grandmother is never alone for long. We had visitors every week. Sometimes twice in one week. They came through the gateway."

"Sir Dar didn't mention a gateway."

"It's in the cellar. Have you ever been through a gateway? I thought I would suffocate."

Bardon thought Sir Dar had left out several important details about this little cabin getaway. Perhaps one of them was the presence of the ladies. He practiced his court calm and answered civilly.

"Yes, I have. It's uncomfortable but an expedient way to travel across the continent." Bardon slowly ate the rest of his fish, then put down his fork. "I think it's time you ladies tell me what service you require of me."

"An escort to the Northern Reach," stated Granny Kye.

"We're going to rescue my father," said N'Rae.

Oh, is that all? Bardon couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his thoughts. Bardon couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his thoughts. And what outrageous ideas does this little minneken have? And what outrageous ideas does this little minneken have? The squire leveled his eye upon the smallest member of their party. The squire leveled his eye upon the smallest member of their party.

Mistress Seeno solemnly returned his gaze. "I have been charged to be N'Rae's protector."

His training in diplomacy had, indeed, been effective. He didn't sputter the absurdity of a three-inch-tall, rodentlike lady being anyone's protector. He also managed to stifle an immediate objection to a journey starting at the southernmost region of Amara and proceeding past the northern border into a barren, sparsely populated land. Instead, he posed a question, hoping for a rational answer.

"Who is your father?" he asked N'Rae. "What are we rescuing him from?"

"My father is Sir Jilles. Wizard Risto holds him captive."

"Risto is dead."

N'Rae squirmed in her seat. "Well, yes. We had heard that. But the stronghold is now under the possession of Crim Cropper and Burner Stox. I guess I should have said that they they now hold him captive. But he was first taken prisoner by Risto." now hold him captive. But he was first taken prisoner by Risto."

Bardon crossed his arms over his chest. If Sir Jilles's capture is common knowledge, why hasn't someone else made an effort to penetrate this stronghold and bring out the prisoner? If Sir Jilles's capture is common knowledge, why hasn't someone else made an effort to penetrate this stronghold and bring out the prisoner? "Why have you chosen this time to begin the quest?" "Why have you chosen this time to begin the quest?"

Granny Kye poured more tea into each mug. "The knights have been under Risto's spell for many years. At the end of the appointed time, the spell must be renewed, or they will die. Risto is dead, as you pointed out. However, the spell remains intact until the Wizards' Plume blazes across the heavens and passes beneath the Eye of the North."

Bardon recalled the beautiful new addition he had seen in the sky only the night before. "This Wizards' Plume wouldn't be a comet rising from the southwest, would it?"

"Yes, indeed," Granny Kye smiled at him. "You've seen it?"

Bardon managed a polite smile in return. "Yes, I have." So much for a harbinger of peace and contentment. So much for a harbinger of peace and contentment.

Granny Kye offered tea to Mistress Seeno, and the minneken declined. "Crim Cropper and Burner Stox may not know the particulars of renewing the spell. They may not even remember that the chamber holds sleeping warriors. They may not care to interrupt their own enterprises to journey to the north. We intend to undo the spell and bring the knights home."

"Knights? There is more than one knight in this chamber?"

Granny Kye nodded. "We don't know exactly how many, but our resources indicate quite a few."

Kale's father! He's been missing for years. Kale's mother said he was under Risto's spell. Perhaps he, too, is in this chamber.

Bardon leaned forward. "How have you acquired this information?"

The minneken piped up. "See, a sensible young man. Thinks things through. Wants all the facts up front." She pointed a finger at N'Rae. "Take note."

Granny Kye patted her granddaughter's arm but spoke to the young squire. "I have been working for years to find the right contacts. You see, Sir Jilles is my son. He was captured by Risto and enchanted. His older brother Joffa went to his rescue. Joffa first intended to transport his own lady and child to a safe haven. However, as the family left their estate, they were attacked, and all were killed."

"So," said N'Rae with a sigh, "Grandmother and my mother lost Uncle Joffa and all hope of saving my father."

Bardon forced himself to remain still. The women's story made him want to squirm. Or maybe it was the instinct to spring to his feet and vow to avenge the loss of this family that made him squirm. He would not jump into their wild scheme.

"Why not give the information to Paladin?" he asked. "Paladin would take interest in your plight and provide a party to carry out the rescue."

The old emerlindian nodded her head. "We have petitioned him, and he gave us permission to rescue my son."

"Gave his permission? He won't send a questing party?"

"The questing party is now being organized."

Bardon sighed his relief and sat back. His curiosity toyed with some of the other aspects of his tablemates' backgrounds.

"N'Rae and her mother were hiding while they lived with the ropma?" he asked.

"Yes," answered Granny Kye.

"I've only met one ropma. His name was Dirt."

N'Rae smiled. "That is a very common name among them. So are Bug, Stick, Rock, and Leaf."

"Um...Dirt possessed a very simple mind."

"They all do," N'Rae agreed. "And they are easily frightened. But they are generally kind and shared everything they had with us."

"They lived in houses?"

"More like huts."

"And clothing?"

"Simple weaving."

"Food?"

"Vegetarian."

"And Lady Jilles protected the band as long as she was alive?"

"Yes."

N'Rae glanced away. "She cloaked our presence so no one could see us except the ropma."

"And you couldn't continue after her death?" Bardon asked. "She didn't teach you how?"

The minneken spoke up in her high-pitched voice. "Singularly untalented, essentially inept, remarkably...clumsy. But we're working on these shortcomings. N'Rae has made admirable progress."

Bardon looked with compassion on the young woman. Being raised among the ropma must have been trying. "How did your mother die, N'Rae?"

Her expression saddened. "She coughed all winter and then into the spring. One morning, she didn't wake up."

That's too much for a young girl alone. N'Rae certainly needs to be reunited with her father. Granny Kye should have her son back. Bardon stifled a sigh of resignation. Bardon stifled a sigh of resignation.

"All right," said Bardon. "I'll join you. Who is in charge of your quest?"

Granny Kye patted his hand. "I believe you are, dear."

.5.

QUESTIONS.

Wulder, is this a test?

Bardon paced along the shore. Moonlight danced on a path across the lake. Breezes carried the perfume of pines and the sweet mountain flower azrodhan. The vine cascaded over a rocky hillock near the shoreline. Greer dozed, curled up on the grassy bank. And sitting to the left of one of the peaks in the southwestern range, the Wizards' Plume hung as if immobile for the moment in its climb through the night sky.

He could not sleep, although those in the cabin had gone to bed hours before.

Turning away from the taunting Wizards' Plume, Bardon focused on his thoughts. He had too many questions about the design behind this latest turn of events.

If this is a test, what is being tested? Can I exhibit noble instincts when my teachers are not around? Or perhaps this is a test of discernment. Should I recognize this to be an irrational endeavor and avoid it?

Pardon me, Wulder, I mean no disrespect. I'm just frustrated. I'm willing to do whatever You demand of me, but I'm not certain escorting these women to some unknown destination in the Northern Reach is really Your plan.

You know what I'm thinking and even what I am trying not to think. He sighed and thrust his fists deep into his pockets. Looking up, he admired the beautiful starlit sky but avoided looking at the southwestern firmament. Wulder deserved a servant who knew what he was doing. He sighed and thrust his fists deep into his pockets. Looking up, he admired the beautiful starlit sky but avoided looking at the southwestern firmament. Wulder deserved a servant who knew what he was doing.

I want this to be from Your hand. The truth is I'm excited to go on an adventure rather than spend hours upon hours pondering life's choices. In spite of all the noise I've made about this time alone...

He strolled over to the sleeping dragon. Greer snored, ruffling the blades of grass in front of his chin. His breath smelled distinctly of fish. Bardon wrinkled his nose, moved to the back of the dragon's neck, and folded his body to sit on the lawn. He rested against Greer's shoulder. The animal didn't even flinch. Bardon crossed his arms over his chest, noticing that the wrestling match with the writher snake had left him sore.