They took rooms on the manor’s top floor, formerly occupied by the now-departed servants. The ceiling slanted where the roof descended, and the windows were tiny. All four wolfhounds were settled in a separate bedchamber. Dally would have preferred to keep them with her, but there simply was not room. As it was, she and Edlyn could only pass one another by turning sideways.
Dally endured another dose of the dragon’s elixir, bathed, and was brushing her hair when Edlyn emerged from the bath. Dally stood before a tall chest of drawers, watching her reflection in an age-spotted mirror. All the room’s furniture held a rough-hewn quality. The beds were narrow, the carpets threadbare. But the room was spotless and smelled of recent cleaning.
Dally had seldom seen her reflection, and never for very long. Her hair when freshly washed tended to spring out in every direction, so a vigorous brushing was required. There was a reassuring normalcy to be found in the action. Her mouth still held the pungent flavor of her latest dose. She was tired, yes, but she knew her strength was returning. And tonight she was especially glad for the chance to stand there and study herself. She disliked the taut skin over her cheeks and the feverish glint to her gaze. But they suited the moment. She felt both calm and frantic. She looked famished, which she was in a way, but not for food. She desperately wanted to lie down and rest, enjoy a languor that might last for days, even weeks. But it was not going to happen. Instead, she faced the prospect of another short night, and then . . .
Dally gasped and jerked back. The mirror no longer showed her reflection.
Edlyn demanded, “What is it?”
Dally heard Bryna’s voice, though the Ashanta Seer’s lips did not move. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
Edlyn asked, “Yes, what?”
Dally gripped Edlyn’s robe and drew her over to where she could see the mirror’s surface. The older woman echoed Dally’s indrawn breath.
“Good,” Bryna said. “I have been contacted by our friend. Wait there.”
Swiftly Dally explained to Edlyn what she had heard.
They stood there together. Two faces full of anxious expectation. Finding strength in the company of a trusted friend.
Waiting.
When Bryna returned, she glanced at Edlyn and asked Dally, “Can she hear me?”
“Greet the Mistress for me. Tell her I wish I was standing beside you both.”
When Dally relayed Bryna’s words, Edlyn replied, “You are precisely where you need to be just now. As close as you are permitted to approach. For the moment, that is enough.”
Bryna smiled her gratitude and asked, “Can you find two more mirrors?”
They rushed down the hall, pounding on doors, and returned as swiftly as possible. Connell was with them now, and Myron and Alembord. They gaped at the woman watching them from the right-hand mirror.
Alembord demanded, “What—”
“Silence, all of you,” Edlyn commanded. “Dally, can she hear me?”
“I can,” Bryna replied. “These are all trusted allies?”
“Our lives and futures depend upon one another,” Dally assured her.
“Very well. Let us begin.” She vanished for a moment.
When she returned, Jaffar’s familiar scowl filled the second frame. “What nonsense is this?”
“It is nothing of the sort, and you know it,” Dally replied. “It is good to see you.”
“I suppose if I must have my sleep disturbed, it’s not altogether bad to be woken by a beautiful young lady.” He waited, then demanded, “Aren’t you going to tell the others what I said?”
“Certainly not.” To the room she said, “This is Jaffar. He is—”
“Mayor of the hidden desert enclave called Olom,” Alembord said. “A renegade Elf. A desert caravan merchant. And a scoundrel.”
“I heard that,” Jaffar said. “Greet the rogue for me.”
When Dally passed on the message, Alembord replied, “I wish you were standing here beside me. We could use your eye and blade both.”
“Where are you, then?”
“Inside Port Royal,” Alembord said. “Crouched within the enemy’s shadow.”
“He is there?”
“We have seen nothing, save fear on every face,” Edlyn replied. “Come sunrise, we will know for certain one way or the other.”
Jaffar demanded, “How large is your army?”
“All such discussions must wait,” Bryna interrupted. “Our ally is growing impatient.”
She vanished, and when she returned once more, the entire room cried with shock. For there in the third mirror stood a dragon. Or part of one. He remained at some distance, but even so he could not fit his entire head into the frame. He shifted back and forth, inspecting them first with one eye then the other as he chattered.
Jaffar said, “The dragon greets you and is glad to see you are still alive. He was uncertain you would survive this long.”
Edlyn replied primly, “We are harder to kill than we may appear.”
“Let us hope our enemy feels the same way,” the dragon replied. “I greet you, Mistress of the Three Valleys orb. It is good this young one can rely upon your wisdom and guidance.”
Edlyn bowed low. “All my childhood dreams are now alive before my eyes, good sir.”
The dragon allowed Dally to introduce her company and offered gallant words to each in turn. When it was Alembord’s turn, the dragon said, “I am very glad to see you again, Captain, serving this company in their direst hour. You represent the finest of human virtues. Stalwart in the face of odds you understand better than all the others combined. Courageous when you have every reason to fear. Armed only with steel when you know the enemy can melt your weapons with a glance. Loyal to a queen who has no throne. Trusting the guidance of an untrained woman because others call her an adept. I salute you.”
Alembord bowed, his jaw clenched tight. “You do me great honor, lord.”
“When this is over, we must meet. Tell Hyam I said as much. Or the Elven queen.”
“I shall cherish that as a reward and honor both, my lord.”
The dragon then turned to Dally and announced, “I have uncovered spells ancient as the wind. I think they may help you in your quest.”