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Hederick thought the ruby-eyed figure was a statue, but then it shifted position, unfolded
     papery wings, and looked around. Ancilla whispered and repeated the movements with her
     left hand. A tiny replica of Tarscenian, half the size of the dragon, appeared on her
     palm. It drew a sword the size of a sliverfar shorter than the dragon's lance. The little
     dragon glimpsed the figure, screeched, and leaped into the air, hurtling toward the
     Tarscenian figure with talons outstretched. “No, Ancilla!” Hederick cried out. “Bhazak
     cirik,” Ancilla said immediately. Both figures vanished. She gazed at him. Compassion
     shone in her eyes, but thwarted power was apparent, too. "You protect this 'priest,'
     Hederick? What
    has happened to change you?“ Hederick wrenched his arm away from Venessi. ”Tarscenian
     saved my life.“ Briefly he told her of the lynx and all that had happened since Tarscenian
     had come to Garlund. ”He's been teaching us about the Seeker gods. I ... I want to learn
     from him, 'Cilia.“ ”But I came back for you, Hederick,“ Ancilla reminded him. ”I've
     dreamed of this day. I will instruct you in the true ways. My gods, unlike this phony
     priest's, are real. Get your things, Hederick.“ The temptation to escape Garlund was
     strong, especially when Hederick felt Venessi's hand clamp down on his arm again. But
     Ancilla had been away too long. Hed-erick had found a new champion, and Ancilla had
     maligned that champion. ”I want to study with Tarscen-ian,“ he said stubbornly. Hederick
     heard the Seeker priest expel a long sigh. Again Hederick shook off Venessi's grip. ”He
     has much to teach me.“ Ancilla stayed silent for a moment. Her gaze flicked from her
     brother to Tarscenian. She ignored Venessi. ”No doubt he does,“ his sister whispered at
     last. ”This warrants some prayer. I'll be in the copse, Hederick, if you change your
     mind.“ Ancilla turned. Her robe swirled like white wings. ”People of Garlund, heed me,“
     she cried. ”Know that I will set wards around the copse. Do not attempt to interfere with
     me if you value your safety.“ ”Witch!“ one man exploded. He hurled a beer-filled mug at
     her head. She raised a hand. ”Esherat!“ The flagon crashed into an invisible barrier and
     shattered. Shards of glass clattered around her but never touched her. Then Ancilla
     shrugged. ”Mage, witch, whatever. I use magic. But I use it for good.“ ”Good as you see
     it, witch!“ the man shouted. Ancilla looked surprised. ”Certainly. What on Krynn did you
     expect?“ She clapped her hands and, with a whispered command, vanished in a swirl of
     silver snow. At the same moment, a puff of glitter appeared in the air above the copse,
     then drifted into the trees. The villagers were quiet for a moment. Then chatter and oaths
     filled the air. ”Shall we go after her, priest?“ shouted the man who'd thrown the mug.
     ”Surely if we all...“ Venessi cried, ”Kill the witch!“ She half stood, hands clenched in
     fists, leaning over the table like a fat hen. ”Ancilla has harmed no one,“ Tarscenian
     stated firmly. ”And don't forget that she is of this village, too. She is still your
     kinswoman.“ ”But the dragon! The figure of you!“ Tarscenian snorted, but his face was
     unusually pale. ”Illusion. Any sleight-of-hand artist could do it. Sedelon talimen overart
     calo." The priest opened his hand. A tiny dragon and miniature Tarscenian lounged together
     in his palm. They were statues, not moving figures. The priest closed his hand and
     reopened it, and they were gone.
    *****
    Nothing more was heard of Ancilla, although none of the villagers could forebear
     occasional worried glances toward the copse in the distance. Two days later, in the depths
     of the night, Hederick went to Tarscenian's prayer house to speak with him and found the
     Seeker shrine empty. The same occurred the next night, and