The evening shadows cast across the common room were lengthening, and the inn was almost full by the time Alandar and his young companion were finished with their supper. The boy had picked at his food, seeming far more interested in the preparations going on around the broad stage at the back of the room. There was to be a show that night, and Alandar knew the distraction would be good for him. If all went well, it would be beneficial to them both.
Alandar sighed and pulled his gray robes up around himself to ward off the chill draft coming from the opening and closing of the door. He scanned the crowd again, noting with some relief that all appeared to be local townsfolk and a smattering of well-to-do merchants. They hadn't been followed, it seemed.
As the servers began dousing the lanterns along the walls, Alandar reached over to clasp the boy's wrist securely beneath the ale-stained table. The child stiffened almost imperceptibly and bore the humiliation stoically, but he did not meet the older man's eyes.
"I'll not lose you in the crowd," Alandar said, his tone sympathetic but firm. He squeezed the small wrist reassuringly. "This will all be over after tonight."
The boy nodded and turned away, focusing his attention fully on the stage. A tall, imposing woman stood there, wrapped in a generous black cloak and hood that concealed her figure. The audience quieted, and, on cue, music seemed to seep from the walls, drifting across the room in a slow, melodious rhythm like the tones of a music box. The woman began to dance, spinning in a graceful circle to loosen her cloak and allow it to drop to the floor.
It was indeed a woman, Alandar thought, with gently curved hips and long, flowing hair that descended to her waist in an ebony waterfall. A soft light bathed the room, and Alandar realized with growing interest and excitement that the light emanated from the dancer's dress. It was made of a fine, filmy silk that shifted from one color of light to another every few breaths as her movements changed from gentle and graceful to frenzied and sharp with the tone of the song that had no words.
The crowd grew still as the music reached a crescendo and broke into enthusiastic applause as it faded away completely. The dancer bowed and blew a kiss to the crowd, sending a shower of golden sparks across the room to drift down over the audience.
Alandar felt the boy tugging insistently on his sleeve; he turned to regard the child in confusion, then cursed harshly as he felt a spell begin to take hold of him. The boy closed his eyes and murmured a few words Alandar could not make out, but he felt a slight warmth on his arm where the boy touched him. Slowly, the magic receded and the light particles drifted to the floor to form a wide ring of gold dust around their table.
Alandar looked around the abruptly silent inn to discover the effect of the spell. The patrons sat motionless in their chairs, frozen by some unseen force. He shook his head in disbelief.
The dancer bowed one last time to her captive audience, collected her cloak, and hopped down from the stage to circulate among the people. She lifted the purses off the wealthily clad merchants Alandar had been observing and dumped half of their contents-although several handfuls of gold-into the pockets of her cloak, then deftly slipped them back in their places.
Enterprising lady, Alandar thought. He kept a restraining hand on his young companion and sat perfectly still as the dancer worked her way over to their table. Oblivious to the deception, she sat down and began sorting contentedly through the money and took a sip of Alandar's untouched wine. A slow smile spread across the young man's face at her beautiful audacity. He liked this woman.
Thrusting his free hand across the table to snatch her wrist, he allowed himself a rare and heartfelt laugh. The woman's ensuing screech was equally satisfying.
A shower of coins spilled onto the floor as the woman struggled to break Alandar's grip, but he merely squeezed harder until she yelped in pain and sat still.
"I've been waiting for you all night, little thief," he said serenely.
The woman's panicked expression slowly shifted to wary alertness, like that of a caged animal searching for escape, and she scrutinized him closely for the first time.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice rich and husky with an accent Alandar could not quite place.
He released her wrist and instead clasped her hand cordially.
"I am Alandar, and this is Kellem," he said, indicating the boy who sat staring in absorbed silence at the woman's dress, which continued to change colors hypnotically and illuminate the darkened room. "Could you possibly switch that thing off?" Alandar asked, blinking his eyes several times in response to the weirdly shifting patterns of light.
"No," the girl replied bluntly, smiling with obvious satisfaction and shaking Alandar's hand firmly. "I am Shantia. I apologize for the scene, but I rather thought everyone in the room would be affected by my spell. You are a wizard, then?" she asked.
Alandar glanced quickly at Kellem and nodded uncomfortably. "Of sorts," he replied simply.
Shantia sat back in her chair and regarded the pair suspiciously. "Not many wizards have cause to come here. What do you want from me?"
"I understand that you also happen to be a wizard and a seamstress of some importance, are you not?"
"Yes."
He grinned. "I see the work pays quite well."
Shantia laughed a rich, musical laughter that was as pleasant to the ear as her music. "The merchants won't remember a thing in the morning, except perhaps that they had too much of the expensive wine. Perhaps it will encourage them to cheat the townsfolk a little less in their future visits."
"So you have appointed yourself the distributor of all this nobly acquired wealth?" Alandar asked with a skeptical grin.
"Some of it, yes," she replied. "But my skills as a seamstress also require expensive fabric."
"How are you able to employ such powerful magic," he asked curiously, marveling again at the silent crowd, some frozen in the midst of their applause.
Shantia smiled enigmatically and swept her hand around the room, indicating the glittering dust that remained on the floor by way of explanation, saying nothing.
"Perhaps I was right to seek you out," Alandar acknowledged. "You seem discreet, and I have also heard that you are able to sew all types of garments and imbue them with powerful magical properties." He raised an eyebrow at her elaborate costume. "Am I mistaken?"
Shantia smoothed invisible wrinkles in her skirt and brushed some stray black locks from her face before replying. "You were well informed. What would you have me create?"
"Gloves."
She nodded. "What type of magic?"
"None."
"If you intend to waste my time, good sir, I'm sure you can find several seamstresses in the village who will take your money faster than I will," Shantia said, raising a teasing eyebrow.
"I assure you I am serious, my dear," Alandar said smoothly. "I need a pair of gloves that will protect against powerful magic." He reached across the table to clasp Kellem's hand. The boy yielded it without complaint, never taking his eyes off the exotic woman for an instant. Alandar uncurled the fingers of Kellem's left hand to reveal a wide and gaudy brass band tightly encircling the boy's slender ring finger.
"What is it?" Shantia asked curiously.
"The source of the magic I spoke of," Alandar explained. "Kellem purchased it recently from a merchant who didn't know it had magical properties. Once the ring was on his finger he was unable to remove it. Since then the ring has gradually reduced the boy to a simpleton, I'm afraid. He has lost the ability to read, write, and, most recently, to speak. I am afraid of what might happen if it is not removed soon."
Shantia's eyes widened in shock. "How awful," she said softly, reaching out to cover the child's hand with her own. "Does he realize what's happening to him?"
"I believe he still remembers," Alandar said sadly. "With the gloves I should be able to safely remove the ring and restore his mind to what it once was. I have tried removing it by other means, but it contains a powerful spell that protects the boy's hand from harm and defends itself when touched by anyone but the wearer." Alandar displayed his right hand; it was covered with healing burns and several prominent, ugly scars. "I have been rewarded thus for my efforts to get past the magic," he said, smiling ruefully.
Shantia took his hand and examined the injuries with a practiced eye. "The magic that did this will most likely be impossible to counter fully, but I think I can create a pair of gloves that will soften its intensity and make the pain bearable," she said slowly. "But it will take time."
Alandar produced a large pouch of gold from the depths of his robes and dropped it onto the table in front of the dancer.
"If you can do it by dawn, all of the gold in the pouch is yours," he said flatly.
Shantia's eyes lit up. "I work well under pressure."
"I thought you might."
Alandar glanced around at the enspelled crowd and shivered involuntarily. "Can we go somewhere else and speak of this? If anyone should discover us here-"
"I have taken steps to prevent that," Shantia cut him off quickly. "Anyone coming in will immediately be affected by the paralyzation magic."
"It sounds as if you've done this a time or two before."
"As I said, good fabric costs money."
Shantia rose and began gathering up her stolen coins. "We can retire to my home. All the items I will need are there," she said, pulling her cloak up around her dress to conceal the light. Alandar started to do the same with Kellem's thick wrap when the door to the inn swung open and a blast of chill winter wind and snow blew through the room.
Alandar froze as a pair of burly mercenaries carrying loaded crossbows entered the inn, their faces red and lips blue from the cold. He grabbed Kellem and dived to the floor behind an occupied table as the first mercenary noticed them and raised his weapon.
Shantia's eyes widened in surprise, then became hard, and she smiled confidently. "Don't worry, they won't be able to-"
Her reply was cut short by the hiss of a crossbow bolt cutting the air inches in front of her nose. Alandar cursed and jerked her to the ground beside him. Together, the three crawled between several tables that were still occupied with the frozen inn patrons to put some distance between themselves and the intruders. Shantia cringed as a second bolt buried itself deep in the back of a paralyzed merchant's chair with a sharp twang, narrowly missing its helpless occupant.
"Stop," she cried frantically, and, murmuring a few words, released the spell holding the people captive.
As the magic dissipated, the inn erupted into chaos and several things happened at once. People everywhere scrambled from their seats and ran for the exits in confused frenzy to avoid the mercenaries, who were swiftly advancing further into room and drawing finely crafted swords.
Scooping up Kellem effortlessly in his arms, Alandar ducked through the rapidly thinning mass of people to where Shantia crouched on the floor behind an overturned table.
"We have to get out of here!" he shouted, pulling the woman to her feet. She was very pale and obviously quite surprised that her magic had failed twice.
The group moved quickly to the back exit, losing themselves easily in the throng of people. The frigid air outside did much to clear Shantia's head, and she quickly took the lead down a twisting maze of alleys away from the inn.
"My house is not far," she cried breathlessly as they ran through the snow. If Alandar heard her, his reply was lost to the wind roaring in her ears. Numbness in Shantia's feet reminded her painfully of something she'd forgotten back at the inn. She promised herself she would never dance barefoot again.
Shantia skidded to a stop in front of a small, well-kept house on the corner of a dark street, with snow-covered windows and a heavy wooden door. Alandar scanned the darkness behind him, and his eyes fell on their fresh tracks in the snow.
"We may be followed here," he warned as Shantia swung open the door and motioned for them both to enter.
"The snow is falling faster," she reassured him, "Hopefully it will soon cover our trail."
Alandar nodded and led Kellem inside the small dwelling to the cluttered kitchen. Shantia moved about expertly in the darkness, lighting lamps and gathering wood to build up the kitchen fire. Her hands trembled slightly, and the silence lay heavily between them while Alandar spoke softly to Kellem and steered him to a seat on the floor near the fireplace. He then knelt beside the dark-haired woman; she turned away from his gaze to stare into the growing flames.
"I'm sorry that had to happen," he said softly, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Luckily no one was hurt."
Shantia swung around to face him squarely, and two distinct flames burned brightly behind the sheen of unshed tears in her deep, dark eyes.
"They came for you," she accused. "And you knew they would."
Alandar shrugged helplessly. "I feared so. I have some powerful enemies."
"Those were bounty hunters," Shantia said tightly, "well-paid by the looks of them. She shot a glance at Kellem, warming himself in front of the fire and absently toying with the braided rug on the floor.
"Did you kidnap that boy?" she asked suddenly.
Alandar laughed out loud at that and quickly raised his hands to stave off any angry retort.
"No, quite the opposite. I am the boy's guardian. His parents are both deceased, so I now see to his education."
"In magic?"
"Of sorts."
Shantia sighed wearily and rose gingerly to her feet, noticing in dismay that they were still numb and stung painfully from exposure.
"You are hurt," Alandar said, reaching out to steady her as she swayed on her throbbing feet.
Pushing his hand away, Shantia limped from the room, returning a moment later with a needle and a large spool of white thread.
"I will not ask about the men following you; the Guard will take care of them. But I want you to leave this city as soon as I have completed the item you requested."
"You will be paid handsomely for your services," he replied solemnly, "and I will be most grateful. But I'm afraid the watch will only delay the bounty hunters and buy us some time. You must work as quickly as possible."
Shantia cringed and sat down once again, smoothing the skirt of her dress around her.
"I do this only for the boy, not for the money and not for you," she stated firmly.
"Of course."
Kellem's gaze flicked back and forth between the two during the exchange, then moved beyond them to take in his surroundings.
Shelves and open cupboards lined most of the wall space in the kitchen, containing all varieties of cooking herbs, scented candles and oddly shaped pots and pans. The lamps around the room burned scented oils that helped to mask the odor of the smoky fire and damp wood. He rose cautiously and headed for a shelf filled with several large, dusty books. He selected a cracked leather-bound volume and hauled it back to the fireside with all the strength in his bony arms. It slipped from his grasp, landing with a satisfying thud on the rug that drew Alandar's attention from the window.
"What are you doing?" he asked, more sharply than he'd intended. "I told you to stay put."
The boy glanced up at him impassively and then began flipping through the book, looking for pictures.
"Let him be, Alandar," Shantia scolded, slipping the thread deftly through the eye of the needle. "He is a child, after all."
Alandar watched the boy anxiously as he flipped the pages from picture to picture, devouring all the details in each with childish curiosity. The mage began pacing the room nervously, pausing briefly beside Shantia to watch her tie the thread onto the needle.
"What will you use for cloth?" he asked curiously.
Without answering, Shantia fingered the soft folds of her dress fondly for a moment-it was truly her favorite-and began tearing away the hem. The light emanating from the garment brightened for an instant, then flickered and faded away with the color, leaving behind an expensive but plain gray silk. The hem in Shantia's hands shone a dull silver.
Shoving his book aside, Kellem crawled over to where the dancer sat and ran his hand over the tear in the fabric; disappointment shone in his blue eyes.
"What happened to the magic?" Alandar asked.
"It was concentrated here in the hem," Shantia explained. "The spell that gave the illusion of light and color to my dress was very basic, so I could easily concentrate it in the hemline and spread the magic out to include the rest of the fabric. The magic I intend to place in the glove must be many times more powerful, and I don't have time to prepare any new fabric. I must use what I have here and that will only be enough to make one glove." She glanced pointedly at his burned hand. "To spread the magic any thinner with normal fabric would weaken the protection and increase the risk of injury to you."
Alandar nodded in understanding. "But how can you use the hem of the dress when it has already been enchanted with illusory magic?"
Shantia held up the needle and thread. "I will channel the spell I want through these vessels to the fabric. When the stitches are complete, the spell will be in place. Since this fabric has already been strengthened and prepared to hold the power without being consumed, the process will take less time."
Alandar let out a low whistle of appreciation as he ran the delicate thread through his fingers into a pool of shimmering silk on the rug.
"How long has it taken you to master this skill?"
"Many years of practice and even more of dancing."
"Where did you learn how to do it?"
Shantia smiled. "I taught myself, somewhat. My mother was a seamstress, but my father was a wizard of no small talent. They gave me the best of both their worlds." She smiled at the memory, then shook her head as if to clear it. "Now, if you don't mind, I'll need silence while I work."
Alandar nodded and returned to the window as Shantia threw herself into the task at hand, pausing from time to time only to watch the boy idly flipping the pages in his book. His face remained unexpressive, but the keen intensity and curiosity in the boy's eyes tugged at Shantia's heart, and she redoubled her efforts each time she looked at him.
The hours passed swiftly as Shantia painstakingly sewed the fabric together and wove her magic. Her hands cramped painfully from the exertion and her eyes burned mercilessly from squinting at the tiny stitches by the flickering firelight, but she worked on into the night. Her murmured words of magic, spoken in that musical, accented voice lent the scene a dreamlike quality, and made the exotic woman seem otherworldly to Alandar, made of firelight and shadow.
As the first gray light of dawn illuminated her work, Shantia bit the end of the thread off the needle and tied it securely into a knot, murmuring the final words of her spell. She examined her handiwork through bleary eyes and presented it for Alandar's inspection. He cradled the glove nervously in his burned hands.
"It is perfect," he breathed in relief. "I can see no flaws in the weave of the fabric."
"There can be no flaws," Shantia said, rubbing her tired eyes, "or the protection will not be sufficient."
"Thank you for taking so much care with them," Alandar said sincerely, gathering up his and Kellem's cloaks. "We must leave now, before the bounty hunters discover we are still in the city."
Shantia looked up at him in alarm. "But surely you're going to try the glove first to see if the magic can be broken."
Alandar shot her a rueful smile. "I suppose we'll have to find out on the run," he said. "A back door, perhaps...?"
"This way," Shantia said. Dousing the fire quickly, she grabbed her cloak and a warm pair of boots. "I'll show you the shortest way out of the city."
"Not necessary," Alandar said, checking the window one last time for signs of pursuit. "I don't want to put you in more danger."
"I have to make certain the glove is going to work," she countered, ushering them towards the back of the house. "If it doesn't, I cannot accept payment." She smiled cheerfully, ignoring Alandar's incredulous expression. He was about to protest further, but Kellem took hold of his arm and towed him after Shantia, who was already halfway out the door and into the alley beyond.
"She's crazy," he murmured absently to the boy. "I hope you know this."
Outside, the wind howled more fiercely than ever, and the snow was collecting in large drifts that slowed the companions' progress. Alandar picked up Kellem as they crossed the open ground for the safety of the woods outside the city. Here the wind was less intense and the travel easier. Even so, Shantia was grateful for the added protection of her boots on the run.
They slowed and eventually rested in the shadow of several dense pines-the evergreen scent was thick in the frigid air.
"We may as well try the glove now," Alandar panted, "Since I'm already wearing it." He smiled at Kellem. "And I see no need for further delay."
Kellem's eyes lit up in understanding of what they were about to do. He stretched out his hand eagerly and laid it over Alandar's gloved one.
Kellem's grin vanished in the next instant as a crossbow bolt sliced through the air and buried itself deep in his exposed shoulder. Jerking back in shock, the boy opened his mouth to try to cry out, but instead crumpled weakly to the ground.
A ragged scream tore from Shantia's throat as Alandar turned to the source of the attack. The men from the inn stood a few paces away-one tossing aside his empty weapon.
Alandar's face hardened, and he placed himself in front of Kellem and Shantia, who kneeled beside the boy's shivering form and cradled his head in her arms. Kellem reached out and dazedly clenched a handful of her exposed dress tightly in his small fist.
"Get him away," Alandar said harshly, drawing a dagger from the folds of his cloak and tossing the precious glove to Shantia.
The bounty hunters laughed as the dancer desperately snatched the boy up and half dragged, half carried him slowly deeper into the cloaking darkness of the woods. As they casually moved in with swords drawn, Alandar dropped the dagger and thrust his hands in both of their faces, chanting quickly the words of one of the few spells he knew.
Light spat from his fingertips and flashed brightly in the faces of the fighters, blinding them and lighting up the forest all around. Alandar smiled in cold satisfaction as he heard their cries of pain. Picking up his dagger again, the would-be wizard waded in to strike first before the two could recover.
Meanwhile, Shantia led Kellem in a zigzag pattern through the trees in their flight, but secretly she held little hope that they would be able to escape. Alandar could not stand against both fighters, she thought bitterly.
Abruptly, Kellem's legs buckled beneath him and the two fell hard into the snow. Breathing raggedly, Shantia ripped off her cloak and wrapped it around the boy, who had begun to shiver uncontrollably from the loss of blood and exposure.
"I will not let them have you," she said fiercely, ignoring the lump in her throat as Kellem clasped her hand.
"Use...the...glove," he whispered in a faint, gentle voice that made Shantia gasp.
"What did you say?" she breathed, staring at him incredulously.
The boy looked deep into the dancer's dark eyes. His eyes bore into her with an intensity that surprised and frightened Shantia. There was power in that gaze that Shantia realized had always been there, hidden just below the surface. There was also a sense of serenity, as if the two stood in the eye of a massive hurricane. Shantia's thoughts whirled in a confused jumble, and she could not break away from Kellem's hypnotic stare. She slipped the glove onto her shaking hand.
"It will be...all right," Kellem said, his voice weak but confident. "Do it now."
Shantia nodded slowly. She was resolved to help the boy no matter what it took. More than that, she doubted she could physically bring herself to do anything else under the power of Kellem's gaze.
The snow crunched not far from them, and she knew they were out of time. Without turning around, she grabbed the brass ring tightly and closed her eyes. This was really going to hurt, she thought ruefully.
Pain that was hot and blinding shot up Shantia's arm and coursed through her body in waves that only grew in intensity. She clutched the ring with all of her rapidly waning strength, slowly easing it off the boy's finger; it fell to the snow in a flaming ball. A brilliant light obscured her vision and she was tossed roughly into the snow a few feet away by the force of released magic.
Shantia lay trembling on the ground and vulnerable to attack by the approaching mercenaries. She knew it, but she hadn't the strength left to move. Squeezing her eyes shut against the light, the dancer waited for a killing blow to strike her. It never came. Through a haze of pain, Shantia heard men's frantic screams as an explosion of heat washed over her body and seemed to set the earth beneath her trembling with its intensity. The silence that followed the blast was eerie and complete; nothing moved save the hollow wind.
Slowly, unsure of what she expected to find, Shantia opened her eyes and gingerly managed to prop herself up on one elbow, careful to protect her burned hands.
The moonlight illuminated a mangled body and a large patch of newly scorched and smoking earth just behind her. Alandar stood a few feet away, clutching a bloody dagger and staring over her head, eyes wide in surprise.
Shantia turned her head slowly, gazing up at the face of the largest creature she'd ever seen. The dragon towered over her and put to shame all the pictures in all the storybooks she'd read in her youth. Muscles rippled beneath burnished copper skin as the beast stretched its leathery wings experimentally, as if discovering them for the first time. But it was the eyes of the creature that made Shantia's breath catch in her throat. They held a soft wisdom and yet burned with the same raw power that she had glimpsed briefly in the boy. Now the source stood before her.
The creature bent its massive head and accessed her wounds with a kind of protective gentleness and compassion that stood in stark contrast with its massive bulk. Shantia smiled despite her pain. As she drifted toward unconsciousness, the dancer swore she could see Kellem's inquisitive face reflected in those eyes.