Calandra’s flashing-eyed gaze flared around the room, visibly scorching her father and the old man. “It is bad enough that I must put up with entertaining lunatics, but this is the house of my father and you are his ‘guests’! Therefore, I will feed you and shelter you but I’ll be damned if I have to listen to you or look at you! From now on, Papa, I will take my meals in my room!”
Calandra whirled, skirts and petticoats rustled like the leaves in a wind-tossed tree. She stormed from the parlor and into the dining room, her passing creating a ripple of destruction- overturning a chair, sweeping small fragile objects off a table-She slammed the door to the hall shut with such force the wood nearly splintered. When the whirlwind had blown over, quiet descended.
“I don’t believe I have ever been treated to such a scene in my eleven thousand years,” intoned the voice beneath the floor in shocked tones. “If you want my advice-”
“We don’t,” said Zifnab hastily.
“-that young woman should be soundly spanked,” stated the dragon.
Haplo unobtrusively replaced the bandages.
“It’s my fault.” Lenthan hunched miserably into his chair. “She’s right. I am crazy. Dreaming about going to the stars, finding my beloved again.”
“No, sir, no!” Zifnab slammed his hand on the table for emphasis. “We have the ship.” He gestured at Haplo. “And the man who knows how to operate it. Our savior! Didn’t I tell you he’d come? And isn’t he here?”
Lenthan lifted his head, his mild, vague-looking eyes staring at Haplo. “Yes. The man with the bandaged hands. You said that, but-”
“Well, then!” said Zifnab, beard bristling in triumph. “I said I’d be here and I came. I said he’d be here and he came. I say we’re going to the stars and we’ll go. We haven’t much time,” he added, his voice lowering. His expression saddened. “Doom is coming. Even as we sit here, it’s getting closer.”
Aleatha sighed. Turning from the window, she walked over to her father, put her hands gently on his shoulders, and kissed him. “Don’t worry about Callie, Papa. She’s working too hard, that’s all. You know she doesn’t mean half what she says.”
“Yes, yes, my dear,” said Lenthan, patting his daughter’s hand absently. He was gazing with renewed eagerness at the old wizard. “So you really, honestly believe we can take this ship and sail to the stars?”
“Not a doubt. Not a doubt.” Zifnab glanced nervously about me room. Leaning over to Lenthan, the wizard whispered loudly, “You wouldn’t happen to have a pipe and a bit of tobacco about, would-”
“I heard that!” rumbled the dragon.
The old man cringed. “Gandalf enjoyed a good pipe!”
“Why do you think he was called Gandalf the Grey? It wasn’t for the color of his robes,” the dragon added ominously.
Aleatha walked from the room.
Haplo rose to follow, making a quick gesture to the dog, who rarely took its eyes off his master. The dog obediently stood up, trotted over to Zifnab, and settled down at the wizard’s feet. Haplo found Aleatha in the dining room, picking up broken knickknacks.
“Those edges are sharp. You’ll cut yourself. I’ll do it.”
“Ordinarily the servants would clean up the mess,” Aleatha said, with a rueful smile. “But we don’t have any left. Just the cook, and I think she stays because she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if she didn’t have us. She’s been with us since Mother died.”
Haplo studied the smashed figurine he held in his hand. The figure of a woman, it appeared to be a religious icon of some sort, because she was holding her hands up, palm outward, in a ritual expression of blessing. The head had been broken from the body in the fall. Fitting it back into place, Haplo saw the hair was long and white, except for where it turned dark brown at the tips.
“That’s the Mother, goddess of the elves. Mother Peytin. Or perhaps you already know that,” said Aleatha, sitting back on her heels. Her filmy dress was like a rose cloud around her, her blue-purple eyes, gazing into Haplo’s, were alluring, enchanting.