Wizards Conclave

'And in response to your letter, she sent her granddaughter?'

'Yes. She thought Coryn might take the Test, someday. And that I might help her prepare. But that is all premature. I simply brought her along to help with the mules! We can't even locate the forest, much less find any sign of the Tower! Until we do, I don't want to encourage the girl to do any magic. I must get to know her better. I need to find the Tower, first, to obtain the counsel of the Master. Then I will decide about her.'

Coryn waited for Dalamar to spring to her defense, to tell Jenna that she was ready, that she could learn spells, could absorb them in ways that Jenna didn't even suspect. Instead, he seemed to agree with her.

'As you wish. Your secret is safe,' Dalamar said. 'She doesn't seem to know anything about magic anyway; nothing about the orders or the three robes. I have no wish to dispel her ignorance.' He glanced over at Coryn, and she felt as though his eyes penetrated right into the thick shadow before he turned back to Jenna. 'Besides, I was already bored with her when you appeared out of nowhere to cause a scene. She is, as you say, just a girl.'

Cory didn't want to hear any more. The two wizards resumed their conversation, but Coryn was already making her way back through the woods, toward the dying fire in the middle of the cold forest.

The moon was gone by the time Coryn got up again, though it was not yet dawn. Cool mists penetrated the trees, raising enough of a fog to limit visibility to a few feet. Jenna and Dalamar were now sound asleep, wrapped in their bedrolls on either side of the now-cold fire pit. First the girl cast the cone of silence spell over herself; then she rummaged through Diva's saddlebag, taking her bow and arrows and her small knapsack. She wondered if she should take anything else-after all, she felt as though she had earned some remuneration for all of her labor on Jenna's behalf. She was tempted by those spell books… but no, she was not a thief- and besides, there was nothing the Red Robe possessed that she needed.

She slipped into the woods, moving quickly, the sounds of her urgent passage swallowed by the cone of silence that moved along with her. Daylight started seeping through the murk about an hour later. And by then Coryn was more than two miles away, still moving with youthful speed. Much of her route had followed the stony rim of the canyon, where she would leave no tracks. She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she didn't want to be followed. Not by those two… not by anybody!

In daylight, the forest was pleasant. The path at her feet was wide, smooth, and clear of debris, winding through a bed of soft grass; broad birch trunks, alabaster white, jutted up from the ground. The canyon lay behind her now, as she moved steadily away from the precipitous rim. She followed a game trail that avoided the densest trunks of the woods, and it was nearly midday by the time she realized that she was getting hungry. Why hadn't she thought to take some of Jenna's food?

Because it would have been stealing, she reproached herself sternly. 'But I don't need your food; I don't need anything!' Coryn whispered to herself, as if afraid that the Red Robe could hear her thoughts.

She came to a ravine across her path, and shimmied down a rotting tree trunk toward the bottom, crying out as she scraped her leg on a stub of a broken branch. Her eyes swam with tears as she cleaned the cut and wrapped a thin piece of cloth torn from her increasingly tattered shirt around the wound. She found an easier way out the other side of the ravine and limped slightly as she proceeded on the trail.

Still, she was making good time, and her long trek on the dry stone of the canyon rim would make it difficult for her former companions to pursue her. When she thought about the way they had talked about her, it made her so mad she felt like weeping. But she wouldn't let herself do that.

Coryn dropped to her knees to crawl under another large birch deadfall, wincing as her cut leg scraped along the ground. Climbing to her feet on the far side, she patted her hip, making sure that her quiver of arrows was safe. It was then that she noticed the sudden darkness of the forest floor in front of her, the closeness of the looming evergreens.

Indeed, she faced a newly darkened and murky expanse. The pines were so thick here they prevented any sun from penetrating, and the dense brush all across the ground was wet with dew. It would take only moments for Coryn's moccasins to be soaked; her leggings felt damp and chill all the way up to her thighs, and she didn't relish the discomfort.

Moss dangled limply from many of the low branches, and she did a double-take as she glimpsed one beardlike bloom-

she could have sworn that someone was watching her from behind impenetrable whiskers. But it was only the natural vegetation, thick and cloaking on all sides. She listened carefully for a long time, but heard nothing that indicated any person, or any other kind of animal, moving through the woods. Even the birds had fallen silent, however, and that realization made her feel very much alone.

Where were the birches, the open, grassy woodland? Coryn didn't remember the forest changing, but the transition was sudden, absolute. She looked behind, saw the birches and grassy terrain extending behind her as far as she could see. Should she go back and try another way? Could she even find her way back?

The thought was a little unsettling. Even more unsettling, however, was the clear memory of crawling under that big, dead birch. She had just stood up, a moment earlier, after making that tight squeeze, but when she looked back, now, that deadfall was nowhere to be seen.

The wood was changing before her very eyes. A shiver passed down her spine. She spun through a quick circle. She couldn't see any sign of danger-but all the same, this wood was darker, more ancient than before. She stood upon a wide trail, but couldn't see as far as a few steps away, where the path vanished around the bole of a massive, gnarled oak. Hesitantly, and limping slightly, she walked around that huge, white-bark tree, and found that the path continued, wide and smooth, before her. Yet there were shadows on every side of the path, and she sensed that things lurked in the shadows. She heard a noise and ducked, looking behind her. But she saw nothing except the oppressive, cloaking forest.

It was then that she noticed the birds; they were now crying strange sounds, raucous and strangely compelling. She sought to find the birds in the branches, but they remained just out of sight. A dark shadow flashed in the distance, and another whisked around the trunk of a knotty tree, but she couldn't be sure if they were mere shadows. Still, the sounds came so close, so clear, she expected to spot the feathered denizens around each bend of the path. Instead they seemed to flit ahead just enough to keep out of sight.

The cries of the birds then took on a note of urgency, and as Coryn pushed herself along, she heard the cacophony ebb and flow together, forming a melody that was repeated over and over. She chuckled wryly, imagining she heard words in the birdsong. No doubt the solitude was getting to her!

And then she froze, listening.

'Come, girl of the white moon… Come, we will be there soon… Come through the woods… Come along the trail… Come with us… Come to your future, and your life.'

She found herself unafraid, walking again, though she wasn't aware of consciously moving her feet. It was more like the pathway was gliding beneath her, as she effortlessly progressed. The song was seductive, and she felt a sense of wondrous curiosity-she just had to see those birds.

A bend in the trail, the pines and oaks parting with almost visible movement… and the vista opened to reveal a small clearing, and an astonishing sight: a lofty, double-spired structure. As she stepped forward, the birdsong ceased, and she advanced into the meadow with a sense of awe.

She knew instinctively that she had found the Tower of High Sorcery-the place that Jenna and Dalamar had been circling around without success. Then this ancient woodland must be fabled Wayreth Forest! The Tower itself was so tall that she had to crane her neck just to see the tops of the two main spires. She counted innumerable parapets and lesser platforms, some carved right into the Tower's smooth, stone walls, others suspended out from the main structure by a spiderweb of cantilevers and elegant, narrow walkways.

Only gradually did she sense something intangible about this tower. It was beautiful, lofty, and graceful… but more than that, it was suffering. There was no visible movement, yet she could sense tremors within the immobile shape. There was no wetness on the outer walls, yet she could discern tears along its marble facade. She didn't know how a building could feel, much less express, pain, but she knew that this structure was experiencing an awful agony.

For the first time since leaving Two Forks, Coryn was truly afraid. She quivered like a frightened doe, wanting nothing more than to turn and flee.

But she could not. She had embarked from home at Umma's command, and then had followed Jenna's orders uncomplainingly. Now she was on her own, and it seemed as though her destiny was here-as if she had been