"Indeed." Antimodes had noted a subtle change in Par-Salian's voice. "You think something is likely to push them?"

"I've heard rumblings," said Par-Salian. "Distant thunder."

"I haven't heard thunder," Antimodes said. "The few Black Robes I meet these days are a little too smooth. They act as if bat guano wouldn't ignite in their hands."

"A few of the more powerful have quietly dropped out of sight," said Par-Salian.

"Who's that?"

"Well, Dracart, for one. He used to stop by on a regular basis to see what new artifacts had come in and to check on possible apprentices. But the only wizards of the Black who have come by lately have been those of low ranking, who wouldn't be invited to share the secrets of their elders. And even they seem a bit edgy."

"I take it, then, you have not seen the fair Ladonna," Anti-modes said with a sly wink.

Par-Salian smiled faintly and shrugged. That fire had died years ago, and he was too old and too absorbed in his work to be either pleased or annoyed by his friend's teasing.

"No, I have not spoken to Ladonna this past year, and what is more, I believe that whatever she is doing she is deliberately hiding from me. She refused to attend a meeting of the heads of the orders, something which she's never done before. She sent a representative in her name-a man who said exactly three words the entire time and those were 'pass the salt.' " Par-Salian shook his head. "Queen Takhisis has been quiet too long. Something's up."

"All we can do is watch and wait, my friend, and be prepared to act when necessary." Antimodes paused, sipped his elven wine. "One bit of good news I have is that the Solamnic knights are finally beginning to pull themselves together. Many have reclaimed their family estates and are rebuilding their holdings. Their new leader, Lord Gunthar, is a keen politician who has the ability to think with his head, not his helmet. He's endeared himself to the local populace by cleaning out a few goblin strongholds, mopping up some bandits, and sponsoring jousts and tourneys in various parts of Solamnia. Nothing the rabble likes more than to see grown men hammer on each other."

Par-Salian looked grave, even alarmed. "I don't consider this good news, Antimodes. The knights have no love for us. If they stop at hunting goblins, that is one thing, but you can be certain that it will be only a matter of time before they add sorcerers to their list of enemies, as they did in the old days. Such is even written into the Measure."

"You should meet with Lord Gunthar," Antimodes suggested, and he was amused to see Par-Salian's white eyebrows nearly shoot off his head. "No, I'm quite in earnest. I'm not suggesting you should invite him here, but-"

"I should think not," Par-Salian said stiffly.

"But you should make a trip to Solamnia. Visit him. Assure him that we have only the good of Solamnia in mind." "How can I assure him of that when he could point out, with considerable justification, that many in our order do not have the good of Solamnia in mind? The knights distrust magic, they distrust us, all of us, and I must tell you that I'm not particularly inclined to trust them. It seems to me wise and prudent to keep out of their way, to do nothing to draw attention to ourselves."

"Magius was the friend of Huma," prodded Antimodes.

"And if I recall the legend correctly, Huma was not greatly respected by his fellow knights for that very reason," Par-Salian returned dryly. "What news of Thorbardin?" He changed subject abruptly, indicating that the matter was closed.

Antimodes was diplomatic enough not to continue to press the issue, but he decided privately that he would visit Solamnia, perhaps on the way back, though that would mean going a considerable distance out of his way to the north. He was as curious as a kender about the Solamnic knights, who had long been held in disrespect and even antipathy by people who had once looked upon the knighthood as law-givers and protectors. Now it appeared as if the knighthood was regaining something of its old standing.

Antimodes was eager to see this for himself, eager to see if somehow he might be able to profit from it. He would not mention this junket to Par-Salian, of course. The Black Robes were not the only members of the conclave to keep their doings secret.

"The dwarves of Thorbardin are still in Thorbardin, we presume, mainly because no one has seen them leave. They are completely self-sufficient, with no reason to take any interest in the rest of the world, and I really don't see why they should. The hill dwarves are expanding their territory, and many are starting to travel to other lands. Some are even taking up residence outside their mountain homelands." Antimodes thought of the dwarf he'd met in Solace.

"As to the gnomes, they are like the dwarves of Thorbardin, with one exception-we assume the gnomes still reside in Mount Nevermind because no one has seen it explode yet. The kender appear to be more prolific than ever; they go everywhere, see everything, steal most of it, misplace the rest, and are of no use whatsoever."

"Oh, I think they are of use," said Par-Salian earnestly. He was known to be fond of kender, mainly so (Antimodes always said sourly) because he remained isolated in his tower and never had dealings with them. "Kender are the true innocents of this world. They remind us that we spend a great deal of time and energy worrying about things that are really not very important."

Antimodes grunted. "And so when may we expect to see you abandon your books, grab a hoopak, and take off down the road?"

Par-Salian smiled back. "Don't think I haven't considered it, my friend. I believe I would be a deft hand at hoopak flinging, if it came to that. I was quite skilled with a slingshot when I was a child. Ah, well, the evening grows long." This was his signal to end the meeting. "Will I see you in the morning?" he asked with a faint anxiety, which Antimodes understood.

"I would not dream of interfering in your work, my friend," he answered. "I will have a look through the artifacts and scrolls and the spell components, especially if you have some elven merchandise. There's one or two things I want to pick up. Then I'll be on my way."

"You are the one who would make a good kender," said Par-Salian, rising in his turn. "You never stay in one place long enough for the dust to settle on your shoes. Where do you go from here?"

"Oh, round and about," Antimodes said lightly. "I'm in no hurry to return home. My brother is capable of running the business quite well without me, and I've made arrangements for my earnings to be invested, so that I make money even when I'm not there. Much easier and far more profitable than chanting spells over a lump of iron ore. Good night, my friend."

"Good night and safe journeying," Par-Salian said, taking his friend by the hand and giving it a hearty shake. He paused a moment, tightened his grasp.

"Be careful, Antimodes. I don't like the signs. I don't like the portents. The sun shines on us now, but I see the tips of dark wings casting long shadows. Continue sending me your reports. I value them highly."

"I will be careful," said Antimodes, a little troubled by his friend's earnest appeal.

Antimodes was well aware that Par-Salian had not told all he knew. The head of the conclave was not only adept at seeing into the future, he was also known to be a favorite of Solinari, the god of white magic. Dark wings. What could he possibly mean by that? The Queen of Darkness, dear old Takhisis? Gone but not forgotten. Not dare forgotten by those who studied the past, by those who knew of what evil she was capable.

Dark wings. Vultures? Eagles? Symbols of war? Griffins, pegasi? Magical beasts, not seen much these days. Dragons?

Paladine help us!

All the more reason, Antimodes determined, why I should find out what's happening in Solamnia. He was heading out the door when Par-Salian again stopped him.