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By Root 1385 0

cut into straight panels, laced together, then painted. On the tent flap and around the opening hung painted garlands of red roses, so realistically portrayed that it seemed one might smell them. The rest of the tent sported views of Rinbaladelan in its days of glory. One panel portrayed the high tower near the harbor, another the observatory with its great stone arcs, a third the temple of the sun, so detailed that it seemed one might walk among them—not, of course, that anyone alive had ever seen the actual city to judge the accuracy of the paintings. The artist had followed the descriptions in a book belonging to Daralanteriel’s scribe, Meranaldar. While the book was a copy of a work saved from the destruction of Rinbaladelan, some twelve hundred years previously, it lacked any actual drawings.

Even though they were royal, Dallandra found Dar’s wife and daughter sitting on the ground in front of their tent like any other Westfolk family would do, sharing a meal of roast rabbit and flatbread. Dressed in a loose tunic over doeskin breeches, Princess Carramaena of the Westlands knelt by the fire and poked at the coals with a green twig. Some few feet away, her eldest daughter, Elessario, sat with her knees drawn up and her arms clasped around them to allow her to rest her head upon them. Superficially the two women looked much alike, both of them blonde, with pretty, heart-shaped faces. Their eyes, however, differed greatly. Elessario’s eyes were a dark yellow, and cat-slit like all elven eyes. Her mother, a human being, had blue eyes and the round pupils of her kind. At the sight of the banadar, Elessario grinned.

“Cal!” Elessario said. “Where’s your son?”

“Maelaber?” Calonderiel said. “Taking his turn on horse guard. Where’s your papa?”

“Doing the same thing.” Elessi giggled, then hid her mouth with one hand. She was a changeling, or so the People called the wild children who’d been born to them over the years. Although she was the most normal of them, her mind had stopped developing when she’d been about twelve years old.

“Then I’d best go fetch him.” Calonderiel glanced at Carra. “We’ve had some bad news.”

“I’ll come, too!” Elessario scrambled to her feet.

“Say please,” Carra said.

“Please, Cal? Can I come with you?”

“You may.” Calonderiel gave her a smile. “But you’ll have to be careful around the horses.”

They hurried off, with Elessario talking all the while. Carra shook her head and sighed.

“My poor little changeling! To think we thought she’d be the queen of the Westlands one fine day.” Over the years Carra had become fluent in Elvish, though one could still hear Deverry’s rolled R’s and Rh’s in her accent. “I’m so glad we’ve had other children.”

“So am I. You must be looking forward to seeing the girls. I’m assuming they’ll come to the festival.”

“They’d better, or I’ll have some harsh words for them. Perra must have had her baby by now, too. I can hardly wait to see them both.”

Dallandra smiled and sat down near her. “Some news—I’ve heard from Salamander.”

“Has he found Rhodry?”

“Not to say found him, but he did see him, flying over the Melyn River. He’s not sure whether or not Rhodry saw him, or heard him either. Dragons make a lot of noise when they fly.”

“I remember Arzosah, yes, flapping those huge wings of hers.” Carra paused, suddenly sad. “Dalla, is there anything anyone can do for him? Rhodry, I mean, to change him back again. I can’t bear it, thinking of his being like that forever. He would have died for us, after all.”

“In a way, he did. Unfortunately, I don’t have the dweomer to bring him back. I honestly don’t know if anyone does.”

Carra bit her lip hard.

“Well, he may be perfectly happy,” Dalla went on. “In a way, he’d stopped being human long before Evandar gave him dragon form. You saw him after battles. That berserker laugh!”

“I can hear it still, yes, whenever I think of him. If only Evandar were still alive! Do you think he could turn Rori back?”

“Oh, undoubtedly, but he’s gone. I don’t know if any other dweomermaster will ever match his power.”

“Probably not.” Carra reached