"It is one I bought," said Antimodes with a grimace. "And as it turns out, I believe I was swindled. It is not

what the man promised me."

"My dear Antimodes, didn't you read it first?" Par-Salian asked, shocked.

"I only glanced over it quickly. The fault is mine, a fact which merely increases my annoyance."

"I don't suppose you could return it."

"Afraid not. One of those deals in an inn. I should know better, of course, but I have been searching for this

spell for a long time, and she was so very kind, not to mention pretty, and assured me that this would do precisely

what I wanted." He shrugged. "Ah, well. Live and learn. Please, sit down. Will you have some wine?"

"Thank you." Par-Salian tasted the pale yellow liquid, rolled it on his tongue. "Conjured or purchased?"

"Purchased," Antimodes said. "Conjured lacks body, to my mind. Only the Silvanesti elves know how to do it

right, and it's becoming harder and harder to acquire good Silvanesti wine these days."

"Too true," Par-Salian agreed. "King Lorac used to bring me several bottles whenever he visited, but it has

been many years since he has been to see us."

"He'ssulking," Antimodes observed. "He thought he should have been elected head of the conclave."

"I don't think that is it. Yes, he did feel he deserved the position, but he readily admitted that he was extremely

busy with his duties as ruler of the Silvanesti. If anything, I think he wanted to be granted the honor so that he

could have politely turned it down."

Par-Salian frowned thoughtfully. "Do you know, my friend, I have the strangest feeling that Lorac is hiding

something from us. He doesn't come to see me anymore because he fears discovery."

"What do you think it is? Some powerful artifact? Is there one missing?"

"Not to my knowledge. I could be wrong. I hope I am." "Lorac was always one to act on his own, the conclave be

damned," Antimodes observed.

"Still, he abided by our rules as much as any elf ever abides by rules not of his own making." Par-Salian finished

his wine, permitted himself another glass.

Antimodes was silent and thoughtful, then he said abruptly, "The gods grant Lorac good of it, then. He'll need it, I

fear. Whatever it is. You received my last report?"

"I did." Par-Salian sighed. "I want to know this: Are you absolutely certain of your facts?"

"Certain? No, of course not! I will never be certain until I see with my own eyes!" Antimodes waved his hand. "It is

rumor, hearsay, nothing more. Yet..." He paused, then said softly, "Yet I believe it."

"Dragons! Dragons returning to Krynn. Takhisis's dragons, no less! I hope, my friend," Par-Salian said earnestly, "I

hope and pray that you are wrong."

"Still, it fits in with what facts we do know. Did you approach our black-robed brethren about this as I advised?"

"I discussed the matter with Ladonna," Par-Salian said. "Not mentioning where or how I had heard anything. She

was evasive."

"Isn't she always?" Antimodes said dryly.

"Yes, but there are ways to read her if you know her," Par-Salian said.

Antimodes nodded. He was an old friend, a trusted friend. There was no need between them to mention that Par-

Salian knew Ladonna better than most.

"She has been in fine spirits for the last year," Par-Salian continued. "Happy. Elated. She has also been extremely

busy with something, for she has visited the tower only twice, and that to go through our collection of scrolls."

"I do have verification for my other news," Antimodes said. "As I had heard, a wealthy lord in the north is

recruiting soldiers, and he is not being very particular about the type of soldiers he recruits. Ogres, hobgoblins,

goblins. Even humans willing to trade their souls for loot. A friend of mine attended one of his rallies. Vast armies are

being raised, armies of darkness. I even have a name for this lord-Ariakas. Do you know him?"

"I seem to remember something of him-a minor magus, if I'm not mistaken. Far more interested in gaining what he

wanted quickly and brutally by the sword than by the more

subtle and elegant means of sorcery."

"That sounds like the man." Antimodes sighed, shook his head morosely. "The sun is setting. Night is coming,

my friend, and we cannot stop it."

"Yet we may be able to keep a few lights burning in the darkness," Par-Salian said quietly.