The dark elf set down his mug and stood up with a sigh. "Do you see me carrying a spell book? No, Palin, I have nothing to study. My spells are gone, and I don't even have an apprentice's scrolls to relearn them. Ironic, isn't it? I awakened with every one of my spells fresh and vibrant in my mind. I have used them-I teleported to Qualinesti. I used illusion and fireball against those who stood in my path. But each spell, when I use it… it is gone, as always. Only this time I have no book, no means to study, to relearn the spells. So the spells are leaving me, one by one, and it is like I am fast spending all the accumulated knowledge-the treasures-of my life.

"As for the next stage of my journey, it will be made on foot, or horseback… at least until I can board a ship for Palanthas. Then I will ride through the storms, puking my guts out, white knuckles on the railing like any tin merchant or coal shipper. There are still penalties I pay, daily."

"There is, perhaps, something I can do to help," Palin said. He leaned forward, conspiratorially. "You have to promise not to tell Laura-or Usha."

"You have my word," Dalamar said, irritated at the childish guise, even as he was fully intrigued.

The innkeeper rose and opened the side door. He called into the kitchen. "I'm taking Dalamar to the stables, Lar. I'll be back in an hour."

The elf heard several platters slam onto a tray, and an unpleasant snap of sound that he took to be Laura's dismissal. Palin turned back with an apologetic smile and led the dark wizard down the winding stairway toward the street. Dalamar felt good to stretch his legs. He supposed Palin was going to offer him a horse, and in light of the dark elf's current circumstances, that was something for which to be grateful.

The inn's stable was located against the bole of the great vallenwood, and Palin led him through the barn, where a stable boy was forking straw into various stalls. The former White Robe went into a small office at the very back of the rambling structure, a tiny room that was actually a small cubby chiseled right into the trunk of the great tree.

Palin carefully and quietly closed the door after Dalamar followed him through, and only then did he strike a match to a thin candle. Dalamar watched expressionlessly as the man touched a panel in what looked like the solid wall at the back of the room. The dark elf was moderately surprised when that section of wood slid backward to reveal a small alcove.

When Palin reached into that hole, Dalamar felt an unmistakable tingle at the back of his neck. Despite Palin's vow to the contrary, there was some hidden magic here! Carefully, the former white-robed mage pulled out a heavy object-a large, square object wrapped in what looked to be a soft doeskin. The dark elf's heart pounded with anticipation.

"I guess you could say that I have hedged my bet," Palin said. "I saved my very first spell book. It has many useful spells, and it could have taken me anywhere I needed to go, if I ever felt that I had to return to the life of sorcery."

Without hesitation, Palin held out the heavy book to Dalamar, who took it rather more quickly and fervently than he had intended. Palin smiled, with a hint of sadness.

"No, I want you to have it. And I am glad that you came here. I am sure you did not intend to do so, but your visit has confirmed for me that I've made the right choice-for Usha, for our children, but even, and without question, for me. I am through with that life, Dalamar, and you should make good use of this last vestige of my magic."

"I understand," said Dalamar; meaning that he understood that Palin was freely giving him this book of spells. In point of fact, he could not begin to grasp how Palin, a man capable of wielding almost unimaginable power, could turn his back on that power. But that was not a riddle the dark elf needed to solve. His hands trembled as he took the tome, clutched it to his chest.

Palin smiled now in genuine good humor. "Perhaps you would take that room, now? Just for the night? It seems that, after all, you might have something to study."

Dalamar nodded his thanks. He could hardly wait to sit down, light a lamp, and start to read.

Passing through Palanthas

Jenna was already walking as the teleport spell faded around her. The lingering wisps of sparkling light quickly evanesced into nothingness. She crossed the anteroom of her villa, her temper foul and her skin clammy. Her assistant, Rupert, stood nearby, as usual having uncannily anticipated her arrival. He came forward to take the heavy cloak as his mistress sniffed in annoyance.

"Kendermore was even worse than Kothas," she declared haughtily. "Not a true wizard to be found in either place, though there are quite a few pretenders. Wild sorcery, on the other hand, is everywhere."

"The minotaurs, as you suspect, are making trouble?"

"Very much," Jenna said, with a shake of her head. "But that's not my problem."

"And the humans in the east, the caliph's realm?" inquired Rupert. "You had no luck there, as well?"

"They might as well be barbarians!" snapped the Red Robe. "Their women are kept locked away, or else put up for sale. And the men are so busy cheating each other that they wouldn't know real magic if it turned them into toads!"

"That is unfortunate, my lady. I do hope you will not lose faith."

Jenna sighed. "In truth, the people are as backward everywhere," she declared. "Simply ignorant of the ways of real magic. Perhaps our gods were gone away for too long."

"I trust that is not the case," Rupert said solemnly. "Keep heart, my lady! As I recall, this is no less than you expected."

"No, you're right," Jenna said, pulling the pins out of her bun, letting her gray hair-as soft and luxurious as a much younger woman's-cascade across her shoulders. "But I suppose I had my hopes up. After all, it's been more than half a year since the gods of magic returned to the skies-surely some of my order should have emerged, somewhere on Krynn!"

"The Tower of High Sorcery might hold your answers. You still have not discovered the key?"

She shook her head again. "The Master is as stubborn as ever-if he still exists. I have concluded that, by myself, I will be unable even to find the Forest of Wayreth, much less gain access to the Tower of High Sorcery."

"Undoubtedly you will find that secret, and in good time," said the dignified servant. "For now, you should know that you have received visitors in your absence."

"Visitors? When did they arrive?"

"Only this morning, my lady."

"Well, who are they?"

"A young lady… from the country, I should say, if not the wilderness itself. And"-Rupert sniffed audibly-"a kender."

Jenna chuckled for the first time all day. "Well, maybe things are about to get more interesting. Where are they?"

"I took the precaution of having them wait in the breeze-way. I posted several of your men-at-arms there, as well."

Jenna crossed the wide hall and threw open the doorway to the outer porch, the balcony where she so often enjoyed the breezes coming off the Bay of Branchala.

"Moptop Bristlebrow!" she declared, immediately recognizing the diminutive visitor. She nodded at the two stout guardsmen who stood within an arm's reach to either side of the kender. "You two can go now," she allowed. Then she turned her attention to the second visitor, a dark-haired girl-or young woman-who regarded her with a strange mixture of curiosity and aloofness.

"Welcome to you both," Jenna said. "And what brings you the Red Manor of Palanthas?"

Coryn was staring at the most striking woman she had ever seen. This Jenna had graying hair that was nevertheless lush and full, and the smooth skin of her face belied her apparent age. She wore many necklaces, and an array of jewels, feathers, and precious rings dangled from them. More rings adorned her well-manicured fingers, and she wore a robe of deep red that swished easily as she walked, like soft velvet.