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The apprentice sorceressNiniane stepped back from her gazing ball in satisfaction. “I must say that went very well!”
Illusius preened. “I told you that Cador would save the day.”
“Cador? It was Tressalara who saved him and his men from the soldiers. Without her—and my magic—they would all have been lost.”
The apprentice wizard drew himself up to a great height until he seemed to fill the cavern from floor to ceiling. “Enough of your boasting!”
“Are you trying to frighten me?” Niniane waved her arms and turned into a spinning wheel of flame. “Let us see who is the greater magician, then!”
Not to be outdone, Illusius changed to a whirlwind and blew her flames out. Jars rattled on the shelves and fell to the cavern’s floor, spilling exotically colored powders across its width. Niniane was too incensed to notice. She became a great wave of the sea and swept the whirlwind right off his invisible feet. Illusius grabbed at a shelf and pulled it down in his wake. Bottles and flasks broke open on the floor, and sparkling liquids mingled with the powders to produce a burgeoning foam.
Niniane reformed and scrambled to separate the items. She bumped heads with Illusius in her haste. “Oh, no! My love potions! My hate potions!”
He was just as agitated. “Oh, no! Not myshape-changingpowder!Watch out!”
The warning came too late. A flash of light, a clap of thunder, and a violent explosion shook the Caverns of Mist. Crystals showered down from the roof like drops of rain. A great puff of eerie red smoke filled the air. When it cleared at last, Illusius and Niniane seemed to have disappeared. In the cavern nothing was left intact except for the frozen Myrriden…and two large green frogs, glaring at one another.
Tressalara was weary when Cador reined in at the rebel camp, deep in the Mystic Forest. The people in the camp stopped their activities to stare, and Brand scowled from his place by the fire. Cador dismounted and helped Tressalara down. She almost stumbled from tiredness. Excitement had kept her going, but now that she had achieved her goal, she felt drained. Grief and the aftermath of her daring adventures had taken their toll. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep.
She was taken aback when he handed her the reins. “See to my horse and gear.”
Tressalara bit her tongue. Better to remain in her disguise until she scouted out the lay of the land: For all she knew, these rebels might be inclined to rid themselves of their princess and set up one of their own upon the throne. Perhaps even Cador himself.
Brand threw down the harness he was mending and rose. “You should not have brought the boy here. He is unknown to us, and there is no one to vouch for his loyalty.”
His arms akimbo, Cador declared, “I vouch for him! Young Trev has proved himself to be quick-witted, brave, and no friend to Lord Lector. As his actions earlier have shown.” He narrowed his eyes. “If you expect me to lead you and your men to victory, Brand, you must trust my judgment—and accept my decisions.”
For a moment tension spun out between the rebel leader and the highlander. Then Brand nodded his head. “Very well. We have need of every such one we can muster. But he must swear the oath of secrecy.”
Tressalara stepped forward. “I will swear.”
Cador drew his sword. “Place your hand on the pommel stone in my sword.”
Tressalara reached out to touch the dome of rock crystal that held a jeweled amulet in the center of the sword’s hilt. A shock ran up her arm. She stared at the jewel. The glowing opalescent stone in the pommel shone with familiar blue and green and gold lights. It was surely one of the missing pieces of the Andun Crystal.
Besides the original, only one other was known to exist—and its whereabouts were unknown. Tressalara’s eyes widened for just an instant before she recovered herself: she was very aware of the sharp edge of Cador’s sword inches from her hand and had no doubt that the wrong word now would send it arcing in her direction. She fixed her eyes on the crystal, noticing the ancient symbols carved into its surface:
“Do you, Trev, swear that you will never reveal the location of this camp, nor the names of these brave men and women who have gathered to free Amelonia from the hand of tyranny?”
“I so swear!”
“Rise, then, and keep your oath under pain of death.” Cador sheathed his sword. “Nidd, show the newcomer around camp. After he sees to the horse.”
A sullen boy stepped forward, eyeing Tressalara warily. Along with half the camp, he’d already heard tales of this slender youth’s quick thinking and extraordinary riding abilities from Brand. In the course of an evening, Trev had won the unqualified approval of Cador, something he himself had not yet earned. And, he thought woefully, his own fear of horses could not be gainsaid.
“This way,” he said curtly, and Tressalara followed, leading the mighty black gelding as if it were a lamb.
Several of the young ladies in camp eyed the two as they crossed to where the horses were kept. Among them was Ulfin, the pretty girl Nidd worshiped from afar. Trev would easily capture her admiration, just as he had done with Cador. Gloom descended over Nidd. He would have to find a way to put this upstart Trev in his place, once and for all.
An idea formed in his mind, but he would have to wait until Cador was gone to put it into action. Meanwhile, he could sow a few seeds as the opportunity arose. He wandered off, leaving Tressalara while she watered and rubbed down the black gelding, then returned to show her the layout of the camp.
The rumor that Princess Tressalara was missing had made its way from one end of the encampment to the other, and opinion was equally divided. Many thought she was hiding somewhere within the castle precincts; the others were sure that she was dead, either by Lector’s hand or her own.
Tressalara was cheered at the size of the rebel forces. “Lector’s men are better armed,” she told her companion, “but your numbers are higher than I would have expected to have gathered together so quickly.”
“Once Cador agreed to join forces with Brand, they came from every cot and farm. There are no fiercer fighters from the mountains to the great sea!” Nidd put on his most important-sounding voice. “Cador said his victory would be assured if he could just get his hands on the princess.”
Tressalara’s heart sank at those ominous words. She lapsed into silence while Nidd rattled on, thankful that she had not given in to impulse and revealed herself to the handsome highlander. It seemed that she’d jumped from the griddle straight into the hearth fire.