It happened, however, that when the evening was half gone Queen Damia grew weary of the ball and again took command of the occasion.  During a pause between dances, she approached me, accompanied by Mage Scour.  In a tone as gracious and lovely as her person, she said, "My lady, your guests must have some respite in which to refresh themselves, lest they lose their pleasure in dancing.  If you will permit it, I will offer some small entertainment for their enjoyment."

Her voice and her suggestion chilled me.  I feared her extremely.  And - as ever - I was unable to fathom her intent.  But I could hardly refuse her offer.  The callowest youth in the ballroom would know how to interpret a denial.

I saw Ryzel shifting through the stilled assembly toward me.  To temporize until he reached me, I replied, "You are most kind, my lady of Lodan.  What entertainment do you propose?"

"A display of Magic," she answered as if every word were honey and wine.  "Mage Scour has mastered an art which will amaze you - an art previously unknown in the Three Kingdoms."

At that, a murmur of surprise and excitement scattered around the ballroom.

Ryzel's eyes were wary as he met my glance; but I did not need his slight nod to choose my course.  We had often discussed the rumor that Scour's research had borne remarkable fruit.  That rumor, however, had always been empty of useful content, leaving us unable to gauge either its truth or its importance.  An opportunity for answers was not to be missed.

Yet I feared it, as I feared Queen Damia herself.  She did not mean me well.

My throat had gone dry.  For a moment, I could not speak.  A short distance away stood Count Thornden, glowering like a wolf while his Mage, Brodwick, whispered feverishly in his ear.  Scour's grin made him resemble a ferret more than ever.  King Thone's milky eyes showed nothing; but he had no Mage to support him now, and he held himself apart from most of the guests.  Until this moment, I had not realized that my white muslin might become so uncomfortably warm.  Surely the night was cooler than this?

Though every eye watched me as if my fears were written on my face, I waited until I was sure of my voice.  Then I said as mildly as I was able, "A rare promise, good lady.  Surely its fulfillment will be fascinating.  Please give Mage Scour my permission."

At once, Scour let out a high, sharp bark of laughter and hurried away into the center of the ballroom.

Around him, the people moved toward the walls, making space for his display.  Gallants and girls pressed for the best view, and behind the thick circle of spectators some of the less dignified guests stood on chairs.  Mage Ryzel ascended a short way up the stair in order to see well.  With a conscious effort, I refrained from gripping the arms of my seat; folding my hands in my lap, I schooled myself to appear calm.