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"Perhaps you can now trouble yourself to answer our questions," Kalrakin snapped with a bored look. "What are you doing here?"

She drew a breath, deciding that boldness would be her best tactic. "I have come to take the Test of Magic!"

She wasn't sure what to expect from her announcement, but the contortion across the whiskered face of the tall man frightened her deeply-then it made her mad. Before he could speak, she lashed out.

"Who are you to make such a fuss anyway?" she demanded. "I was invited here, and I came!" She felt a growing sense of righteousness, certain that she belonged here as much as or more than this bearded maniac. However, he was powerful-she glanced again at that pearly gem and shivered inside.

As if sensing her wavering, Kalrakin flicked his hand. The floorboards under Coryn's feet rippled. She tumbled to the side, watching from a sitting position as three stout beams twisted and warped, snapping like twigs.

A moment later, she felt a surge of fresh agony, a thrumming of deep pain that washed over her through the floor, the air, the very essence of the Tower.

"Stop it!" she shouted, clenching her fists. Trembling with fury, she jumped up and faced him. Her mind flitted through the few spells that she knew. Somehow, however, she sensed that her feeble magic missiles would prove but sputtering fireworks in the face of this sorcerer's obvious great power.

She instinctively grasped the nature of the conflict in which she had become involved. It was wild magic that tortured the Tower, that had broken apart the floor under her feet-the same she had turned to her own purposes since she was a little girl. But she understood one more very important fact.

Wild magic was blasphemy here.

"I am here to take the Test, and I intend to do just that,' she repeated, keeping her tone level, giving no hint that her knees threatened to turn into water.

"You dare to make such pronouncements?" Kalrakin sneered contemptuously. "You will not take this test-and your very life itself depends on my pleasure. Have a care with your tongue, girl!"

"My lord!" Luthar spoke urgently, immediately drawing the taller man's attention. Kalrakin lowered his hooked beak, which, Coryn saw, extended outward and down over the tangled nest of his bristling mustache.

"What?" he demanded.

"Please, let us confer discreetly." The shorter man stepped backward through the arched entryway, beckoning his companion, who, after another glowering look at Coryn, followed Luthar out of the room.

She let out a long, tremulous sigh, relieved to be alone again, even if it was only for a few minutes. Picking up her chair from where it had toppled onto the floor, she sat down heavily, feeling the trembling of nerves in her limbs as she tried to think what to do.

Coryn's plan had progressed no farther than an admonition to herself: "Be careful!" when the two men returned to the room. This time Kalrakin halted a few steps behind, and it was Luthar who advanced toward her. His round face was beaming, but she glared over his shoulder at the tall sorcerer, unwilling to be softened by charm or blandishments.

"Of course, you shall take the Test," Luthar said graciously. "And please forgive our initial surprise. In fact, you are the first visitor to arrive here since we made this Tower our home. You must understand that we are new to these duties-but of course, as you say, this is the Tower where the Test is given, and naturally this is what you have come here to do."

Coryn knew that this Tower was no more home to these men than it was to bugbears, but she decided to let the point pass, for now. A truce had been offered, she realized, and though the very thought was repugnant to her-and the Tower-she understood that she could buy some time.

"Thank you," she said, still watching Kalrakin.

"Now, it will take some time, perhaps a day, to make all the necessary preparations," continued Luthar smoothly. "There are several very nice guest suites in the Tower, and you are welcome to have your pick of them. Perhaps you would care to rest, refresh yourself, in readiness?"

"Yes," she replied, standing up. Her eyes never left Kalrakin's face; she could sense the emotions roiling inside the towering sorcerer, knew that he was forcing himself to go along with Luthar's hospitality. But why?

"I will look at the guest suites immediately," she said, speaking as she imagined a great noble lady would. She addressed Luthar but stared defiantly at Kalrakin as she walked out of the dining room.

"And I will take the one with the strongest lock on the door."

Chapter 16

A Fence around a Forest

She is a slippery one," Jenna said in a mixture of disgust and admiration. The red robe she was wearing was dusty and damp as the enchantress came wearily up to Dalamar. The dark elf was sitting on a moldy log, his head in his hands. "I thought she would be too frightened, too overwhelmed by the wilderness, to try to sneak away. Yet she has vanished utterly! Lunitari knows, we've looked everywhere up and down the trail. Where could she be? Damn it, what if something has happened to her?"

"Silly of her to run off like that," Dalamar said, shaking his head wearily. "You must have given her the scare of her life, with your heated outbursts-not to mention your invisible cone of silence."

"I'm not the one who tried to take advantage of her!" the Red Robe retorted. "Come on. She is hiding her tracks. We have to try to think like her and figure out where she went." She tugged on the lead, and the three heavily laden mules shuffled their feet with a barely perceptible shift in momentum. The enchantress cursed under her breath. "I never knew how good Coryn was with these mules. These animals are as stubborn as, well, mules!"

"We've already wasted a day searching for a trail that vanished on dry stone," Dalamar said, raising his hand to stop her momentarily. "If I were to guess, I'd say she went looking for the Tower. Why not? She heard us talk about it, over and over. She knows it's supposed to be in the vicinity. Why don't you give me access to your artifacts and see what I can find out?"

The red-robed mage narrowed her eyes. "You have nothing left of your old life? Not your spell book, not a ring, or a staff, or even a few bottles of potion? You don't have a lot of bargaining power, not much to offer me in return."

"On the contrary," Dalamar retorted. "We are partners in this quest. We are both looking for the Tower, but we both know that we will need the most powerful wizard of each of our three orders, working in concert, to restore the powers of godly magic. I know that you are the mistress of the Red, and I am the master of Black. And there is no White wizard anywhere, so far as we have been able to learn. But you and I both know that for some reason-perhaps he is losing his wits, in the wake of his return to our world-Solinari has appointed this naif, this silly wench, as his own champion. She is destined to wear the White Robes!"

"Ridiculous! First of all, she is neither naif, nor silly wench," Jenna replied tartly. "She does know some magic. True, it's mostly wild magic, but at this point I don't believe that she is destined for anything. Be careful, Dalamar, lest your arrogance lead you into another mistake."

Jenna was right: The dark elf could not afford to be wrong, but he suspected that Jenna still was not telling all that she knew or believed.

"Perhaps you are right. But have a care of your tone, Red Robe." Dalamar pushed himself to his feet and started to pace before the massive log.

The forest was gloomy and cool, even early in the afternoon of a sunny summer day. The ferns were wet, and Dalamar looked down with distaste, seeing that the hem of his black robe was repelling the water that would have soaked a mundane garment through within a few seconds. "I still think she went looking for the Tower. Where do you think she went?"