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EXPECTATIONS

Bardon stepped forward. “Excuse me, Your Grace. I don’t see how I can accompany Leecent Kale and also finish preparations for knighthood.”

High Chancellor Grand Ebeck grasped the front edges of his silken robes, resting his hands against his chest. “Time enough for that after you’ve been on your own, away from The Hall for a while.”

Kale watched Bardon out of the corner of her eye. She knew some of what the other students said about him. Bardon had been left at The Hall by his father when he was just six years old, two years younger than most candidates were when they entered training. He was a few years older than Kale, so that meant he’d been here at least a dozen years. The Hall was his home, and everyone said he took his obligation to fulfill his father’s will seriously. In fact, they said that was why Bardon was such an unyielding, tiresome bore.

The muscles in Bardon’s neck tightened. With the same talent that enabled her to mindspeak and find dragon eggs, Kale could feel the other o’rant’s tension. Sympathy for him invaded her heart. The emotion surprised her for only a moment. When she’d been a slave, there had been plenty of times when those in charge dismissed what she wanted to do as if it were nothing. People at The Hall were supposed to be more sensitive. They followed Paladin.

Kale’s eyes sought the face of the wise emerlindian chancellor. Surely he understood that Bardon would take this order to leave Vendela as punishment.

Grand Ebeck showed no awareness of her outrage or Bardon’s dismay. The high chancellor picked up his book. He paged through the volume, stopping to scan an entry and then moving on.

Her eyes went back to Bardon. A red flush stained his pale cheeks. Black eyebrows drew together over those blue eyes that so often looked cold and distant. A muscle in his square jaw worked, and Kale suspected his teeth were clenched like a bodoggin’s grip on his next meal.

High Chancellor Grand Ebeck made his next pronouncement without even looking at either o’rant.

“You aren’t ready to go on, Lehman Bardon.”

Kale heard Bardon’s sharp intake of breath. Oh no! He hadn’t known he didn’t qualify.

“There is nothing more we can do for you here. You might as well make yourself useful to Wizard Fenworth for the time being.”

She chafed at the high chancellor’s words. That’s just cruel. Granny Noon would never have been so mean. Maybe men who are grands aren’t as kind as women. I don’t think Grand Ebeck’s so terribly wise after all.

His voice droned on. “Perhaps in a year or two you can reapply for candidacy.”

Oh, that’s nice! She couldn’t help the sarcasm spicing her thoughts. She pressed her lips into a tight line to keep from saying something she shouldn’t. She could feel Metta and Gymn turning around and around restlessly in their pocket-dens. They always picked up on her emotions, and she on theirs. If she didn’t tamp down her anger, they might come out hissing and stomping and ready to fight.

Librettowit came to her side and put his hand on the arm that held Toopka.

“Go pack your belongings. Meet me at the entry to Trell Tower before the next chime of hourly bells.”

With a wrinkled brow, she tried to determine the sense of such a command. “We aren’t going to the dragon field? Celisse is not taking us back to The Bogs?”

Librettowit shook his head. “I came through a gateway. We’ll be home again in Fenworth’s castle this afternoon.”

“But Celisse—”

“—will fly to join you.” He patted her arm. “Don’t worry so, Kale. We will have a pleasant summer. Studying, training, good company, good music, good food. No quests, no adventures, just the camaraderie of intelligent, reasonable, compatible people. Once you have Regidor in hand, life will be comfortable once more.”

Dar cleared his throat. “Sounds idyllic.”

She had known Dar long enough to read the caution in his eyes. She wanted to quiz him, but the high chancellor interrupted.

“Well now,” he said, “we all have things to do. Leecent Dar, I wish to have a word with you. Lehman Bardon, you will also need to pack and meet with Kale and Librettowit. Off with you now.” He gestured with a dark, wrinkled hand toward the door.

The door behind them opened even though the footman could not have heard their dismissal. He jumped to bow them out.

Bardon inclined his head to Grand Ebeck and said, “Good day.”

The high chancellor nodded absent-mindedly and murmured the correct response. Carrying Toopka, Kale followed the lehman out of the room.

As soon as the door closed, she hurried to catch up to Bardon.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He didn’t slow his pace. “For what?”

“That you don’t get to begin your apprenticeship.”

“Wulder’s timing is best.”

“That’s what people say when they don’t understand why things happen.” She wanted to tell him about Paladin’s explanation to her of Wulder’s perfect timing. She believed the saying was true, not just a platitude.

She opened her mouth, eager to relate the images Paladin had put before her, but Bardon’s gruff voice pushed her enthusiasm aside. “That’s what people say to help them accept what has happened. It works, Leecent Kale. Excuse me. I have a lot to do.”

He quickened his pace and left Kale trailing behind.

“He’s mad,” said Toopka.

“He didn’t say he was mad.” Kale turned down the hall leading to the main staircase.

“He’s still mad.”

“Yes, probably. But he doesn’t want us to know.”

“We know anyway.”

“Yes, but let’s pretend we don’t. I think he’s embarrassed as well as disappointed.”

Kale and Toopka reached the bottom of the grand staircase and crossed the wide foyer to the front doors, where a footman bowed them out of the building.

Outside, the sun shone brightly on the azure towers. The translucent globe floated fifty feet in the air, unmoved by the breeze fluttering the banners on each of The Hall’s turrets.

“Can I have new clothes?” asked Toopka. “I’d like new clothes.”

“I don’t think we will have time.”

“A bath? I’d like a bath, inside, with smell-good soap. Maybe pink soap.”

“As soon as we get to Wizard Fenworth’s castle. He has a nice tub. Actually, it’s a huge wooden bucket. But hot water comes out of a reservoir in the treetop. The sun warms the water. I don’t know about pink soap.”

“I was thinking I didn’t want to leave Vendela. I have friends here, you know. But maybe this will be fun. I’ve never been on an adventure.”

“We are not going on an adventure. Adventures are not fun,” said Kale as they crossed the courtyard. “I know. I have been on one.”

She walked briskly to the dormitory, aware of the curious glances from fellow students. Once within the doors, she sprinted down the empty hall, up three flights of narrow stairs, and into the room she shared with five other girls. No one was there.

“I guess that’s good.”

“What’s good?” asked Toopka. She craned her neck around, trying to see everything.

“No one’s home, so I don’t have to explain why we’re leaving. Sit here, and don’t touch anything.” She deposited the little doneel on her own cot.

“Is there anything to eat?” Toopka slipped off the bed and headed for a chest of drawers.

“Toopka!” Kale snatched her up and put her back on the cot. “We aren’t allowed to have food in the rooms.”

Toopka squirmed toward the edge again. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t any.”

“Stay where you are. I’ll find you something to eat but not right now. I have to pack and get to the tower.”

Toopka’s face folded into a grumpy frown. Kale ignored her and opened a drawer. She stuffed clothes into the hollows of her cape. When she glanced at the doneel again, she saw Toopka’s eyes had grown large, and her mouth hung open.

“You’re putting all those things in that pocket I went in?”

“Yes.”

Kale dropped to her knees and pulled a shallow box from under the bed. Toopka lay on her stomach and peered over the edge. Kale continued to pack. When she’d emptied the box, she stood up and pushed it back under the bed with the toe of her brown boot.

“Let’s go.”

“Aren’t you going to take the books?” Toopka nodded toward the clutter on the desk beside the bed.

“No. Wait until you see the castle. It has rooms and rooms full of books.”

A sharp rap on the door sent Kale to answer.

“Dar!”

“I brought some clothes for our little friend.”

He entered the room and placed a folded stack of clothing on the bed beside Toopka. She squealed with delight and rummaged through the pieces, cooing as she shook out a white shirt embroidered with an ivy vine. Metta and Gymn emerged from the cape, flew to her side, and examined her new possessions.

Kale studied the furry face of her friend. “What did Grand Ebeck want to talk to you about?” she asked.

“Oh, he wants me to attend a dinner tonight. A doneel diplomat will be trying to influence a regional governor to increase trade with their district. Dull, political stuff.”

“I don’t think I like Grand Ebeck as much as I did before.”

“He doesn’t particularly care whether you like him or not. He was more interested in softening your attitude toward Bardon.”

“What?”

Dar plopped down on the bed beside Toopka and helped her lace up a boot she’d found.

“Diplomacy. He detected your dislike of Bardon and set about constructing a situation in which you would side with him.”

“That’s sneaky.”

Dar shrugged and concentrated for a moment on getting Toopka’s tiny foot into the other boot. “If he had told you to consider Bardon a comrade, you would have resisted. However, when he revealed Bardon’s weakness and need for a friend, you jumped right in. He counted on your noble instincts.”

“How does he even know I have noble instincts?”

Dar rolled his eyes and commenced working the laces through the boot’s eyelets. “He’s a grand. He knows. He wanted you to discover for yourself that you could feel sympathy for Bardon.”

“A lot of good it did. Bardon didn’t want to talk to me.”

“Maybe not, but now there is a chink in your prejudice against him.”

“Prejudice! I’m not prejudiced!”

“Your opinions of Bardon are formed out of gossip and surface impressions. That’s prejudice.”

Toopka looked up from her new boots. “If it’s prejudice, it has to be called prejudice.”

“Very wise,” said Dar and chucked Toopka under the chin.

Kale glared at both doneels. She inspected the little black boots on the child’s feet. They fit well.

“Where’d you get these clothes?” she asked Dar.

“I’ve been collecting some things to send to my sister’s family. One of the reasons I wanted to go to the market.”

Kale thought about the huge family Dar claimed and felt a sudden loneliness. Dar was like a brother, and she didn’t want to leave him.

The doneel stood and squeezed her arm. “You’ll be all right, Kale. You have lots of family now in the form of good friends. And two new additions as of today, Toopka and Regidor. You’ll be too busy to miss me.”

“Are you sure you don’t read my mind?”

Dar just laughed and moved to the door. “You’d better hurry.” He went into the hallway, then turned, laying a hand on the door frame. “You will do well to follow closely the teachings of Paladin and remember Wulder in all your dealings.”

Not trying to hide the grin on her face, Kale answered in mock approval. “Don’t you sound proper all of a sudden.”

“Exactly!” Dar winked and saluted. “And Kale?”

“Yes?”

“Give Bardon a chance.”