“It’s lovely,” Warna said, but then she jerked her head at a further thought. “They really exist?” She stared at the skull hanging next to it, covered in etched engravings. “Is that a dragon skull?” she breathed.
“Wyvern.” Verice said.
“Are you coming?” Wolfe asked from the stairs above. “Watch your step,” the old elf said, as Warna hastened up. “I fear I’ve fallen behind in my cataloging.”
There was a snort from Verice. Warna glanced back to see him shake his head.
The dogs swarmed around them, heading up the stairs, knocking things over as they scrambled past.
“Here now,” Wolfe said irritably.
“Don’t blame them,” Verice said.
“It’s my tower, lad,” Wolfe retorted. “Age has its privileges.”
“Age is not an excuse to avoid cleaning,” came a female voice from above.
Warna climbed up the final flight of stairs and found herself emerging onto a rooftop. She stopped dead, and Verice had to urge her up the last few steps.
There were chairs in the center of the roof, clustered around an area rug and a table. Chairs with padding, the kind that Warna had heard of but never seen. But that wasn’t what commanded her attention. It was the night sky above them, clear and crisp, with stars scattered over a velvet sky, and the moon low over the mountains that surrounded the tower.
Yet the air was warm. She took a breath, and laughed at the wonder.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” a low female voice asked. A woman stood at the table, smiling at them, dressed in embroidered robes of red and gold. Her skin was the color of dark honey, and her white hair was piled on the top of her head. Her eyes were the same silver as Verice’s and filled with welcome. Warna couldn’t see her ears, but she had the same air as Wolfe, and she looked as what Warna had imagined elves to be, when reading her childhood tales.
“May I present to you Warna of Farentell,” Verice said, coming to stand next to Warna. “Warna, these are my friends and mentors, Mage Wolfe, and Seer Kalynn.”
Warna would have curtsied, conscious of her tunic and trous, but Kalynn stepped forward and took her hands. “Come, sit. Farentell, eh? That’s a barony in Palins, is it not? Next to yours, I believe, Verice.”
“It was,” Verice said. “Farentell has fallen to the Usurper now. Warna came to Tassinic, fleeing the conflict. She is under my protection, now.”
Kalynn drew Warna to one of the stuffed chairs. She sat, trying not to notice the startled looks on the faces of Wolfe and Kalynn. The dogs had followed them up the stairs, and were settling all around them, sprawling on the rugs.
“Protection?” Wolfe asked sharply.
Kalynn silenced him with a glance. “You are most welcome, Warna. It’s not often we have visitors.”
“As to that—” Verice set his burden down and settled on a chair next to Warna’s. “I’ve come with two requests. I’d ask that you shelter Warna for a time. For her own safety, she cannot continue to stay at the castle.”
“Continue?” Kalynn asked sharply.
Wolfe now silenced her with a glance. “She’d be welcome, of course.”
“And the second, lad?”
“I’d like Charrin to hear her sing, and evaluate her skills in music,” Verice said. “I believe that she has a gift for music that should be nurtured and protected.”
Wolfe and Kalynn both stared at Verice. Warna concentrated on the dogs, avoiding the looks of dismay on their faces.
“Verice, are you sure that’s wise?” Kalynn asked quietly. “Charrin is still healing, and I am not sure that he would…” Her words trailed off as she glanced at Warna again. “I am not sure this is advisable.”
“At the very least, its damned insensitive, lad.” Wolfe shook his head. “There are other Bards who could evaluate her abilities.”
“Yet you’ll shelter her,” Verice pointed out.
“Of course,” Wolfe said. “And we’d resolve any issues that came up as a result. Might even do him good, to live with a—” He stumbled over a word. “To have other people around. But to ask Charrin’s opinion about her talents is just asking for—”
“Whose talents?” A warm, baritone voice floated over to them. Warna turned to see another elf coming up the stairs slowly, with a stick in his hand. She drew in a sharp breath. Unlike Verice and Wolfe, this elf’s hair was black, a silky curtain down his back. But his face—
