13
WIZARDS’ CONCLAVE
Kale entered the Wizards’ Hall behind her mother and father. Everyone wore their most elaborate finery. Lyll Allerion had helped her daughter fashion a long shimmering, deep rose dress. She added a jeweled collar to the moonbeam cape and fastened it around Kale’s neck. Then she draped the material over one shoulder so that the subtle gray of the cape contrasted with an array of starlike gems that bedecked the bodice of the gown.
“I’m wearing something a bit more matronly,” Lyll had declared.
Kale laughed when she saw her parents dressed in attire that matched in material and color. She couldn’t help but examine the cloth by tracing the embroidered design of vines with her fingertip.
Lyll’s gown of harvest orange fitted tightly in the sleeves and bodice and then exploded in voluminous swirling fabric for a long, elaborate skirt. The same dramatic orange accented her father’s basic deep green attire.
“Hardly matronly, Mother,” Kale said as she stroked velvet leaves scattered over a lengthy train.
Lyll patted the rich sunset sheen of her sleeve. “Soft fabric is becoming to a woman of my age.”
Sir Kemry embraced his wife. “I appreciate not having to worry about my clothing. Lyll always dresses me for these formal affairs.” He adjusted the gold and vibrant green braid that accented his collar. “I suggested the emerald mingling with the gold. A nice touch, don’t you think?”
Kale examined the trim that brightened his jacket and one leg of his pants. He did look arresting. “Yes, Father. The braid accents the orange in a dashing way.”
“Dashing?” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Do you hear that, Lyllee? Our daughter thinks we still make a dashing couple.”
Lyll coaxed him toward the door. “We don’t want to be late, and she didn’t say we were a dashing couple. She said the braid on the velvet is dashing.”
“How can braid and cloth be dashing? She meant that we are dashing in the apparel you designed.” He touched the braid on his lapel. “With my help.”
The conclave gathered in the wizards’ room, a large chamber, similar to the throne room, except located in a remote area of the castle. Indeed, when they passed through the entrance, they also passed through a gateway, so that the structure could hardly be said to be part of the palace at all.
The splendor of the room reflected the oddity of its inhabitants. One wall resembled a canyon with different colors of rock strata enhancing the natural beauty. Even a thin waterfall cascaded from the ceiling and created a stream that ran through the room. Several bridges of different designs crossed the creek.
A second wall looked like an outside view of countryside with a star-studded, nighttime sky. The third looked as if one could walk into a forest and leave the wizards’ room behind. And the last looked just like the palace wall on the other side of the gateway.
Seating included rocks, logs, elegant chairs and couches, and a boat. Depending on where one stood, the flooring could be grass, cobblestone, sand, rug, or hardwood planks, waxed and polished.
But the clothing of the wizards astonished Kale more than the surroundings. The fire wizard’s dress flamed but did not burn. One wizard’s robe appeared to be a waterfall, the image flowing from shoulder to hem without leaving the wizard’s body and causing a minor flood. The current disappeared in a mist at the man’s feet. A lady wizard wore more tiny, fragile leaves than a ten-foot hedge, fashioned in a gorgeous and delicate frock. Feathers bedecked another pair of wizards. Kale at first thought they were husband and wife, but their features were so similar, she decided they were brother and sister.
A wizard dressed with small shells adorning his robe clattered by, smelling fishy, and trailing seaweed. Kale wrinkled her nose, caught her mother’s disapproving glance, and schooled her features not to reflect her thoughts.
“Look at your own gown, child, before you cast aspersions on someone else’s choice of attire.”
Kale’s eyes dropped to the material her mother had fashioned an hour earlier. Miniscule streaks of lightning dashed hither and yon. The small beads of starlike gems twinkled and had multiplied to cover the entire dress. She looked up and noticed that a wizard approaching her squinted against the light she cast.
“Light wizard,” said her father. “I have suspected as much.”
Her mother beamed at her. “Yes, I thought so too, but I didn’t want to influence her with my interpretation of the signs. There’s nothing special in the cloth, dear. Your element is showing.”
Her father harrumphed. “So we have a light wizard, a weather wizard, and a mortal wizard in the family.”
“Mortal?” Kale looked at her mother, for it had been obvious for a long time that her father rained when he rested.
“Don’t look so concerned, dear,” answered Lyll. “It merely means my body is more apt to reflect time and wear than another’s.”
“But how is that a talent?”
“Healing, like Gymn. I thought for a while that you would have that talent as well, but it is only through Gymn that your ability to heal is intensified enough to manifest.”
Sir Kemry patted her shoulder. “Of course we all have a tad of each of the talents.”
Kale noticed he had donned spectacles with dark lenses in order to be able to look straight at her.
“Come, dearest daughter,” he said. “We’ve been standing too long. In the future, we must work on your facility to control your light. For now, we will just move to dispel its grandeur.”
Kale followed her parents around the room, being introduced to wizards she knew only by reputation or not at all. She had met a few of them since she and her friends had come through the gateway and now struggled to remember their names. Besides her parents, she knew Regidor and Gilda and the lake wizard, Cam Ayronn. Bardon had counted the wizards in the gallery the night before. Twenty-one. Her father said that was the sum total of all known wizards in Amara. He amended that to specify wizards in Paladin’s service. It had been centuries since Stox or Cropper attended a wizards’ conclave.
Much visiting took place. Refreshments appeared and disappeared. Music played and some of the wizards enjoyed dancing. Intermittently, Kale worried that the conclave didn’t seem to be interested in addressing the serious issues at hand. But the company was stimulating and the festive atmosphere invigorating. She sometimes wondered about the passing of time. But no timepiece of any kind could be found in the chamber. When she thought she might be weary and ready for bed and she knew for a fact that she could not put one more delicacy in her mouth or swallow one more mouthful of delicious punch, a bell rang.
The wizards instantly ceased their chatter.
A male wizard robed in cloudlike material rose into the air above the others.
“Namee,” Lyll whispered the man’s name in Kale’s ear. “Sky wizard.”
“So we have come to some conclusions that I will present to Paladin.”
The others in the room nodded and murmured affirmations.
The knowledge that decisions had been made astonished Kale for only a second. The minds of these great thinkers had been mingling for hours. Of course, they had resolved issues and made plans. Now that she was conscious of the fact, she realized she had participated in the process.
Namee held up a finger. “First, we must engage the enemy to keep them from deterring the progress of the real warriors.”
Everyone nodded, including Kale, who had a sudden hard lump in her stomach.
“Second,” said Namee with another finger uplifted, “we must unite the populace and solidify their purpose.”
Another round of approval, and the knot in Kale’s stomach twisted.
“Third, we have decided dragons will be that unifying force. After all, who can resist the attraction of these winsome creatures?”
A cheer. Kale felt sick.
“Fourth, Sir Kemry and Kale Allerion will be the ambassadors to collect the dragons, train them, and present a mighty fighting force behind which the populace will rally.
“And fifth!” Namee paused. “Harrumph! Was there a fifth? Hmm? Perhaps not. Oh well, and fifth, we offer good wishes as the old Dragon Keeper and the new Dragon Keeper seek to save all of Amara.”
Kale found her father’s arm supporting her. She leaned heavily against him and gazed up at his face. He looked out over the cheering crowd with his other arm raised in salute. His countenance glowed with enthusiasm. Her mother appeared at her other side and also offered an arm around her waist to keep her from falling.
“Mother,” Kale pleaded, “tell me I am dreaming.”
Her mother’s words came out between lips frozen in a smile. “Hardly, dear, and do something with that face of yours. I swear a blind illiterate could read it like a book.”
The people around them started up a chant. “A quest! A quest!”
Kale tried to relax the muscles around her mouth, but she could not muster a smile. She leaned toward her mother’s ear.
“Are you coming as well?”
“What did you say, Kale? Mindspeak, dear, it’s the only way.”
I said, Are you coming as well?
“Oh no! It’s your father’s turn to have some fun.”