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MORNING SURPRISES

“One, two. One, two, three, four. One, two. One, two, three, four.”

The chant penetrated Kale’s sleepy brain and roused her from a wonderful dream about visiting a palace in Wittoom where Dar was the principal chef. If she allowed herself to wake up, she would miss the banquet.

“One, two. One, two, three, four. One, two. One, two, three, four.”

Kale opened an eye to view her mother’s bed. Sunlight made a path across the crumpled linens. Dust motes danced above. Metta sat on the far edge and hummed a tune that matched the beat of the unexplained counting. Gymn lay curled up in a comfortable ball on one of the pillows. But no woman lay on the downy mattress.

With both eyes open and her lethargic body propped up on an elbow, Kale watched two feet appear and disappear from the other side of the larger bed.

“One, two.” A right foot bobbed up, toes pointing to the ceiling. It dropped out of sight, and the left one replaced it.

“One, two, three, four.” Both feet waggled above the horizon of the mattress in a quick flutter of activity.

“One, two.” The right foot, left foot performance repeated.

Kale sat up in bed, dislodging a snoozing Ardeo. Cold air hit her neck and shoulders. She shivered and pulled the covers back up to her chin. “Mistress?”

“Did I wake you, Kale? I’m sorry, but it’s a beautiful morning, and I’m feeling so much better.

“One, two. One, two, three, four.”

This is ridiculous!

Kale threw the covers back and grabbed her clothes. She pulled on her pants and exchanged her nightshift for a shirt. As she shoved one foot into a boot, she heard grunting. Her mother’s arms lay across the edge of the bed. In the next moment, she hoisted herself to a kneeling position and stayed there, watching Kale and panting.

Kale felt her eyebrows shoot up as she gasped at the sight of the old o’rant woman. Or rather, the woman who should have been old.

“You’re younger!” Kale exclaimed.

“Not as young as I used to be,” said Lyll as she struggled to rise. She began running in place as soon as she had her feet under her. “Nothing like a good night’s sleep to rejuvenate the old bones. Give me five or ten minutes, and we’ll see what a little exercise can do.”

Kale collapsed with a thud on her bed. She had one boot on and the other one in her hand. As she watched, the o’rant woman counted to a hundred, lightly prancing in the space between her bed and the window. Then she put her hands on her hips and bent at the knees. Her body descended, only to rise again a moment later. She repeated this action, counting to twenty-five. Next, with her hands clasped behind her neck, she twisted her torso. Then Lyll extended her arms straight above her head, bent at the waist, swinging her arms in an arc. Her upper body bobbed down behind the bed and sprang up again. The thick braid hanging over her shoulder swung like a pendulum.

Kale watched with fascination as Lyll Allerion became younger and thinner with each round of up-down motion.

“There now,” Lyll said, as she finally stood still and took a deep breath. “Getting back in shape takes more work the older I get.”

She strode over to her dress hanging on a peg. She stopped in front of the garment and seemed to be examining the material.

“A bit soiled,” she said.

The dress began to jiggle on its peg. Lyll left it to gyrate and crossed the room to a black bag. She pulled out a brush. Sitting on the windowsill, she undid her long brown braid and spent the next ten minutes brushing and rebraiding the gorgeous fall of dark, curly locks. Metta and Dibl watched with rapt attention. Gymn stretched on the pillow, rolled over, and curled his tail around himself, never waking. Ardeo climbed into Kale’s lap, but she saw that he, too, stared in fascination at the lovely wizard.

The dress on the peg ceased its lonely dance. Lyll finished tying a ribbon on the end of her braid, hopped off the sill, tossed the brush in the open bag, and returned to examine the dress.

“What color today?” She tapped a shapely finger on her chin. “I always travel light, Kale. One dress for day, and of course, a nightgown.”

As she spoke the dress faded from blue to white and then turned pink, starting with a blush at the hem that rose up the material until the shoulders and sleeves had taken on the cheerful hue. As the color changed, so did the texture of the cloth. A patterned brocade replaced the homespun cotton. Lace frothed out at the neckline.

“Now that’s nice,” said Lyll and took the dress off the peg. A plain white bibbed apron hung beneath. Lyll took it as well. “I won’t need this.” The apron transformed into a silk shawl of a deep rose.

Kale blinked and saw her mother was dressed, the nightshirt on the peg, and the dress and shawl on the woman. Dibl rolled so fast in his excitement he nearly missed a turn at the edge of the mattress. He swerved in time and circled the bed once more, this time rolling directly over Gymn. The little green dragon squawked a protest and went back to sleep.

“Well, Kale,” said Lyll, “I’m famished. Let’s go down to breakfast, shall we? I’m also anxious to see what Fen and Cam have decided we should do about this dragon problem.”


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“So we just sit here and wait,” said Wizard Cam, leaning back in his chair at the breakfast table. His wet hair looked as though it had just been washed, but Kale knew he almost always looked damp. Soon there would be a puddle under his chair, and if he sat in one place long enough, a rivulet would wander away, following any downslope.

Only tea and juice had been served thus far. Dar and Bardon had not yet joined the gathering.

“The suspicious wagon should be here today,” said the lake wizard.

“Oh great,” said Toopka, a pout pursing her lips. “That means it’ll be next week before they get here.”

Sitting next to her, Regidor tilted his head. He still wore his clerical robes since the populace of River Away had managed to accept a tumanhofer, two doneels, and three wizards, but still had problems with a walking, talking meech dragon. “What kind of wisdom is that?”

Toopka stood on her chair and put her hands on her hips. “It’s wisdom that comes from seeing how things work. Things you want to happen always take a long time.” She pointed one little finger at the meech dragon and shook it in his face. “You may read books and know bunches, but I have lived life longer than you.”

Regidor’s lips twitched as he suppressed a grin.

Toopka stomped one tiny foot. “You may get to be the smartest thing in all of Amara, but you’ll never be older than me. That’s just the way it is, and you’ll have to live with it!”

Fenworth, who was resting in the chair at the head of the table, stirred slightly, rattling his branches.

Cam cleared his throat. “No need to be so pugnacious, Toopka. We are all cognizant of the importance of seniority.”

Toopka sent a puzzled look Kale’s way.

Kale patted the little doneel’s back and guided her to sit down again on the wooden box that had been placed in her chair. “He means, don’t be so feisty, and we all know you’re older than Regidor, and yes, that’s important.”

Toopka nodded triumphantly at her meech friend.

Kale glanced around the tavern. In the days when she helped serve breakfast here, a number of regulars sat at the same tables every morning except Saturday and Sunday. Only her friends waited for their meal this morning.

It’s because of us, I’d guess. People in River Away don’t like to mix with people from outside.

Mistress Meiger came into the room from the kitchen. She carried a pot of tea. Yonny and Cakkue followed with a basket of muffins and a platter of scrambled eggs and sausages.

Kale’s former owner put down the pot and picked up a pitcher of fresh purpleberry juice. She refilled empty glasses in front of her guests. When she came to Kale, she said, “How’s your mother this morning, Kale?”

Kale glanced over at her mother. With a mischievous gleam in her eye, Lyll spoke up.

“Mern, I’m right here, and I’m feeling more like myself this morning.”

Mistress Meiger’s eyes popped. “And here I was thinking these wayfarers had brought in another strange person during the night.”

Oh dear! That was rude. Mistress Meiger only uses the term wayfarers to name those guests she believes are disreputable.

But Lyll Allerion did not take offense. “Now, Mern, you knew me well as a regular traveler years ago and enjoyed our visits to your tavern. Don’t be kerflummoxed by a few surprises.”

Mistress Meiger’s complexion blushed red. “I never would have thought that you and your dear husband were one of them. In fact, you deceived us, Lyll Allerion. I thought you were marione. You disguised your true being.”

“Ah, yes,” said Lyll, and her face grew solemn. “I wanted to be your friend, Mern, and you would not have let me. You’re not fond of things that are strange to your daily living. There are stranger things coming to River Away. Soon you’ll have to face the fact that Wulder is real and expects your loyalty.”

“Wulder’s coming here?”

Lyll sighed. “He’s already here.”

The innkeeper cast a look over her shoulder as if she expected to see a bogeyman. Cakkue and Yonny moved closer to their mistress’s skirts. They, too, peered into the shadowy corners.

Lyll reached out and patted her old friend’s hand. “If you took time to know Him, you wouldn’t be frightened by the prospect of His presence.”

The innkeeper tapped her two little slave girls on the shoulders and waved them off. “Go back to your chores,” she said gruffly. She watched until the kitchen door closed behind them.

With a shudder, Mistress Meiger turned back to the elegant lady at her table. “You’re talking of things that shouldn’t be talked about, Lyll. There’re some things best left alone. Talking ’bout the Mighty Good and the Mighty Bad will bring trouble to us all.”

“And who do you think is best pleased by this lack of talk?”

Mistress Meiger stared, then shook her head.

“I know,” said Toopka. “Pretender.”

Lyll shifted her attention to the doneel child and smiled.

“That’s right, and can you tell us why?”

Toopka screwed up her face. “Because…because Pretender likes to jump out and scare you. If you talk about him and know he’s around, you aren’t as likely to be surprised. But I don’t know about Wulder.”

“Wulder,” said Regidor, “likes to be familiar, Toopka. Like a bed you’re used to. There you relax, trusting in the comfort and safety during the dark times.”

Toopka studied Regidor’s face for a moment and then nodded.

The sound of horses clopping down the street interrupted the conversation. The riders drew up in front of the tavern. A moment later Dar and Bardon appeared in the doorway.

Dar doffed his hat and bowed to those present. “Our quarry approaches. Bardon and I went out early this morning to see if we could locate the band of potion peddlers. Their wagon is a few miles east of River Away. Our wait should not be long.”