'Six?' the Lady of Shadowdale asked slowly, sliding her sword back into its sheath. 'But-'
The end of the table she was facing glimmered suddenly, and Sylune said, 'Ah, they're here-commendably swift of them!'
The glimmering became a flash that died away to reveal a smiling, barefoot couple whose robes and hair were somewhat in disarray. The Simbul and Elminster nodded and smiled at the dumbfounded Shaerl and strode across the room to embrace Storm and Maxer.
The kitchen was suddenly a happy chaos of sobbing, laughing, and hugging folk. Shaerl stepped back and shook her head with a smile. She'd never get used to instant magical comings and goings, not if she lived to see two hundred winters or more!
A sudden aura of light surrounded Maxer's head, and he stiffened in Elminster's embrace. Storm turned quickly in the Simbul's arms to see what had befallen-and saw an identical aura gathering in the air about her.
'What-?' she began, and then fell silent as Maxer gave her both a rueful smile and a nod of reassurance.
'Sorry, lad,' Elminster said gruffly, releasing Storm's beloved, 'but we had to be sure.'
'Of course,' Maxer replied-as Storm felt the first swift darting of her sister's probe in her mind. She stiffened just as Maxer had, and then took a deep breath, forced herself to relax, and let the Simbul do her work.
'Sorry, Sister,' the Queen of Aglarond said quietly, a moment later, releasing her.
'Acceptable, am I?' Storm asked teasingly, suddenly very weary. 'Does that mean I can have tea?'
The Simbul smiled a little sadly, hearing the edge in Storm's voice, and impulsively hugged her sister from behind. Storm stiffened again, in astonishment this time; the Simbul never did such things.
'Mystra save us all,' said the Queen of Aglarond fondly, 'of course you can. Sit down, and cut some pie, and I'll just float those scones out. El?'
'Momentarily, m'dear,' the Old Mage replied airily. 'Ah. . now.' The glimmering at the end of the table began again.
This time the flashing magic brought three obviously startled arrivals: Ergluth Rowanmantle, still holding a bandage roll that he'd been wrapping his arm with; the worried-looking war wizard Broglan; and in his arms, smiling shyly, the Lady Shayna Summerstar.
All three blinked at the cheerful old stone kitchen around them, and Elminster gravely introduced it with a wave of his hand: 'The farmhouse of Storm Silverhand, in Shadowdale.'
Then the Old Mage staggered sideways, nearly bowled over in the Lady Shaerl's rush. 'Ergluth!' she cried, leaping into the arms of her kinsman. 'Oh, I've missed you! How's Cormyr these days, and the family? And when did you put on so much weight? However did you man-'
Ergluth Rowanmantle barked just two words over her head at Elminster: 'Wine,' and then, a few moments later, and a trifle more mournfully, 'Help.'
That was when Sylune, a spectral head floating above the table and trailing a long fall of hair, transported in the feast. Humming happily, she looked this way and that, and steaming platters began to appear by the dozens around her, on every horizontal surface save the floor, which was reserved for the arriving kegs.
Broglan and Shayna stared around in absolute amazement-and then stiffened in unison as auras of light came into being around them both. A third enveloped Ergluth as the boldshield wheeled around to stare at the sudden radiance.
'Right,' the Simbul announced emphatically, 'everything seems safe-let the revel begin!'
In the wee, blue hours before dawn, when all the chatter and lights and revelry and those who'd partaken were gone again, three heads bobbed above the cool waters of the stream in the woods below the farmhouse.
One head floated above the water, surveying the other two critically. Sylune said, 'There's a spell I think will suit you two just fine….'
Maxer sighed. 'If you don't mind,' he said carefully, 'I've had more than enough experience with magic these last few years-' He stopped speaking as the spectral head softly faded away.
'Oh,' a ghostly voice said by his ear, just before he felt the soft touch of invisible lips, 'this isn't that kind of magic.'
'Sylune,' Storm asked warningly, 'what're you up to?'
'I just don't think you'll want to climb all the way back up to the loft, to find a bed-especially as Sir Broglan and Lady Shayna already seem to be using it. Will you want tea tomorrow, say around highsun?'
'Sylune!' Storm protested, laughter bubbling in her voice. 'What're you up t-'
And then she fell silent, knowing she and Maxer were alone.
A moment later the spell took hold. They found themselves rising out of the water, as warm as if they'd been quite dry, and floating just above the gently tinkling waters. Maxer rolled over and lay on empty air, raising himself on one elbow to look at his beloved.
'Lady Storm,' he said, admiring her frankly, 'I like your sister's spells. . but I'll take you over her any night.'
'Why don't you do just that?' Storm asked, setting aside all her cares at last as she drifted gently through the moonlit air into his arms.
In the east, one more dawn was just beginning to creep into Shadowdale, but neither of them noticed it.
