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NEITHER HERE NOR THERE

Kale puzzled over the fine cape Granny Noon had given her. Draped around her shoulders, it fell to the floor and swayed gently as she moved. Something odd happened to the color every time she glimpsed it out of the corner of her eye.

I’m not used to such elegant clothing, that’s all.

That could be the explanation, but still something about the cape made her vision kind of muzzy.

She stood in the center of the snug sitting room, marveling at the feel of her new clothes. Everything—her undergarments, stockings, boots, skirt, blouse, and cape—smelled new. Soft colors of brown, beige, and white enveloped her small frame from shoulders to toes. Kale couldn’t help the grin on her face. She liked looking clean and neat. She’d be warm, and she’d look respectable. But the cape…

Inside the lining, Granny Noon had sewn pockets in two rows down each side of the opening. From her waist to the hem, eight pockets, four on each side, held one dragon egg each. Two deeper pockets hung in the side seams at her hips. Granny Noon called them hollows and had Kale stuff them with objects she said were essential for a quest. With all the things they’d slipped into those pockets, the cape should have bulges. It didn’t.

I may not know much, but I know pockets should look full when they’re full.

Granny Noon had explained each item, but the familiar objects had bizarre purposes. Before Granny tucked the last feather into the right side pocket, Kale knew her mind was muddled with bits and pieces of information she didn’t understand. She tried to sort out Granny Noon’s instructions as the others busied themselves with their own preparations.

Dar stood beside an ironing board, pressing out wrinkles in clothes he had washed and dried. Leetu studied the bookshelves, looking for a book to borrow. Granny Noon bustled from cabinets to the table, packing provisions for their journey.

Kale patted the smooth surface of the cape where a “hollow” pocket lay underneath. The beans will grow breakfast. The dried yellow leaves cure headache. The dried pink leaves cure stomach pain. The twigs tell which way to water. The white feather is a peace token. The black feather signals trouble. The gray feather means “follow me.” What is the little shell for?

Kale stared at the fire trying to remember. Oh yes, to summon a crow. But I don’t remember why I would want to summon a crow.

She slowly turned her head, watching the others in the room and wondering how she could ask Granny Noon without alerting Dar and Leetu Bends to her inability to remember simple instructions. She could try to speak to Granny Noon’s mind. How could she block Leetu’s hearing and reach Granny?

Her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror, and she snapped to attention. For just an instant, she had seen only her head…

The cape! There was something odd about the cape. The light gray fabric shimmered in the light—rippled, really—catching the colors of other things as if the material reflected images like the old mirror on the wall.

Dar broke the comfortable silence of the room. “Granny Noon spun the cloth from moonbeams.”

“Moonbeams!” Kale cried out. “Cloth made from light?” She stroked the smooth, warm fabric, tilting her head to examine it even more closely.

“Dar, you’re incorrigible,” said Granny Noon. She cast a frown in his direction and then looked over her basket at Kale. “It’s a type of bush with round white flowers. Thus the name, moonbeam plant.”

“Why does it look so strange?” She moved her arms to hold the cape away from her body. Squinting, she tried to see what she had seen just a moment before. She sighed, shaking her head in bewilderment. “And then it looks normal.”

“When you move, the material looks like any other cloth,” explained Granny Noon as she went back to wrapping small bundles with gauzy white cloth. “But when you stand still, you blend into your surroundings.”

“I’m invisible?”

“No, not invisible. More like a chameleon, well hidden. And you would need to put up the hood to keep your head and face out of sight.”

Kale reached over her shoulder and pulled up the soft material that lay like a rumpled collar around her neck. The hood surprised her by dropping over her face as well as her head. She peered through the loosely woven fabric.

“That’s it,” said Dar. “Now tuck your hands under and keep still.” Kale heard him clap his hands together. “That’s it! You’re gone.”

“Really?” The folds around her face muffled her voice. Her warm breath came back to tickle her cheeks.

“No,” said Leetu. “Dar, you’re going to give her too much confidence in that cape, and then she’ll get into trouble.” Leetu carried three books in her hands as she crossed the room to stand in front of Kale. “The cape is more effective in shadows or at night. In the blazing sun, your outline will be clearly visible. Never risk your life, thinking the cape will save you. It’s one of the first rules of service to Paladin. Trust in what is real, not illusion.”

“Finally!” Granny Noon came over to hug Leetu. “I was beginning to think we were mistaken to send you as mentor to this o’rant child.”

Leetu’s face clouded over as she shrugged out of Granny Noon’s embrace. The young emerlindian handed the three books to Kale. “Here, stick these in your cape hollow.”

“My pockets are full,” said Kale, looking at the titles: The Care and Feeding of Minor Dragons; Training for Performance—An Overall Guide to Dragonkeeping; and Pitfalls of Magic.

“Your hollow isn’t. They’ll fit,” said Leetu. She crossed the room with a few graceful steps. Even when irritated, she moved like a leaf floating on a gentle breeze.

“Don’t mind her.” Dar approached, speaking too softly for Leetu to hear. He handed Kale her own blue scarf, laundered and ironed. “She’s miffed because Lee Ark sent her with us instead of taking her to defend the southern border from an invasion of quiss.”

“Quiss? Sea creatures?”

“Nothing but rumors,” said Dar. “The quiss migration isn’t due for another year. Leetu will likely see more adventure with us than patrolling a remote seashore.”

Kale looked at her scarf folded in a neat square. Why had Dar done this kindness for her? He was not a slave or a servant. Why?

Grawligs and gateways, mindspeakers and grannies, Pretender and quiss. All of this is more than I bargained for when I left River Away. Is anything normal out here?

She felt the smooth cloth Mistress Meiger had given her. The beautiful blue scarf had been in a sad state last time she saw it. She looked at the doneel’s friendly face. He stood next to her, eyeing her expectantly.

“You washed my scarf?” she asked, still not quite believing that someone would do this menial task for her.

Dar looked away, apparently embarrassed.

“Thank you,” said Kale.

He nodded with a smile quirking the corner of his mouth, gave a courtly bow, and then returned to his ironing.

Granny Noon put her hand on Kale’s shoulder.

“To a doneel, clothing is symbolic. He saw me throwing away your old clothes and salvaged the scarf. It would be important to him to carry or wear something from his home.”

Kale looked from Leetu’s rigid back to Dar’s small figure. The emerlindian again examined the bookshelves as the doneel meticulously pressed a crease in a pair of trousers. Leetu might be worthy of wearing the colors of The Hall and heading their expedition, but Kale was very glad Dar would be along.