Dragonquest - Donita K. Paul [115]
“Who are you calling old?” The voice rumbled out of the leaves, but Fenworth did not resume his manly form.
“You,” answered Cam. “Come now, Fen. We have work to do.”
Kale watched as the wizard opened his eyes. His other facial features emerged from the bark, moss turned to hair, sturdy branches to arms and legs. Leaves became cloth and a pointed hat.
No wonder the mariones of River Away are goosy about having wizards around. Cam leaves a puddle of lake water wherever he pauses for more than five minutes. Fenworth transforms into a tree. And he always has small creatures skittering about, climbing through his hair and clothing, some flying out at unexpected moments. I think a year ago, I would have cowered at the sight of him.
“Precisely so!” said Fenworth, looking her straight in the eye. “I’m almost as much of an oddity as you are. Tut-tut. How narrow we are in our thinking! Tut-tut, oh dear.”
“The report?” prodded Dar. “Ladies first.”
He stood up and gestured for Lady Allerion to take his seat.
When she was settled, she took Fenworth’s hand as she spoke. She didn’t direct her words to him in particular, but clasped his hand in a friendly manner. The old man beamed at her, and Kale remembered Fenworth had said Lyll had once been his apprentice.
“We have found the culprits. There are two marione men and two ladies. One woman is also a marione. The other is our meech. She has a tremendously strong personality. She believes in what she is doing. Her drive to succeed is reinforced by her insatiable desire to win Risto’s approval.” Lyll turned to Kale. “Kale?”
“The marione woman is bitter and angry. She resents the devotion her son and husband show to the meech.” Kale turned to Bardon.
“The two men respond to the meech differently.” Bardon reached up and pulled a lock of dark hair. He smoothed it over his ear, a gesture Kale had seen him do many times. Now she understood the subconscious habit had a significance that probably even Bardon didn’t realize.
I’m glad Grand Ebeck sent him with us. Bardon has secrets, and I think he’ll be better off once he gets rid of them. I have secrets too. Only my secrets are hidden from me as well.
She looked at the woman who claimed to be her mother.
There’s one mystery.
“The father,” continued Bardon, “is motivated by greed. The son adores the meech with an unnatural devotion.”
Regidor unclenched his fist and rubbed his palm down the rough material of the clerical robe. “Her name is Gilda. She’s proud, vain, and deluded. She believes Risto is the savior of the people of Amara. She derives pleasure from her power over men and dragons. She enjoys giving orders to destroy.”
Kale’s mind had been puzzling over a problem, and she had to ask her question. “How does she influence the dragons as a fortuneteller?”
“She sets up the farmers to distrust their dragons. She foretells the dragons’ defection. She warns of their treacherous ways coming to the surface. Then at night, she visits the dragons and sows seeds of discontent. She has a poisonous tongue.” He grimaced. “She then confuses their thoughts so her victims have no clear memory of where they acquired these errant ideas.”
Regidor shifted his feet and took in a deep breath. “What I find most disturbing is the smile on her face as she contemplates evil.”
“You could see her face?” asked Toopka.
“No, I could feel the euphoria in her physical being as her mental images conjured up destruction.”
“Not a nice lady,” said Toopka.
“But one Paladin wants us to rescue,” said Bardon.
Regidor clenched his fist once more. “It would be easier to destroy her than to change her mind.”
“Well then,” said Fenworth as he came to his feet, “let’s go. Sounds like a delightful challenge before supper. Stimulate the appetite, or kill it. Interesting either way.”
48
CONFRONTATION
When the companions reached the market field, they discovered two tents had been set up. One sold potions. The other, an elaborate green-and purple-striped canopy over yellow sides, was marked Fortuneteller.
“She’s in the fortuneteller