"Mydalr?" Evalon repeated. "You want to move to Mydalr?"

"For a few months," Uncle Hyron agreed. "I have business there that might take me a while and I think it'd be best to stay together as a family."

"What kind of business?" she asked curiously, trying to look innocent. She was playing the role of not having overheard her aunt and uncle's conversation the night before.

"Oh, nothing serious," her uncle said careless, waving his hand in the air as if to fling her question away. But he wouldn't meet her eye as he said, "Just some things with the organization that need sorting. Really boring stuff, actually."

Strange, Evalon thought. Why won't he tell me? And that wasn't the only question in her mind. Her brain was full of inquires about various subject of the conversation she had eavesdropped on the previous night. It hadn't been a mother dragon that had caused her uncle's limp, had it? And what what did Uncle Hyron mean by 'It's in her blood. Her father being what he was, it's no surprise she bears a love for them'? What was going feral in Mydalr? Was it dragons? She sincerely hoped not. That would ruin her dreams of working with the creatures in the future. Actually, now that she thought about it, it might not be the too-distant future. Excitement coursed through her views at the thought of finally seeing on the majestic, powerful creatures.

"What do you think, Lonny?" Aunt Mylane asked, setting a plate of nutmeg and elderberry pancakes in front of her.

Evalon tried not to let her excitement show too much, but hard as she tried should couldn't help but smile widely.

That was all the answer Hyron and Mylane needed.

"When do we leave?" Evalon asked, taking a bite of her breakfast. An elderberry burst between her teeth, sending sweet juices to glaze over her tongue.

"Next Saturday. I'll need your help packing when you come home from school," her aunt told her.

Evalon nodded and took another bite of her pancakes. Of course she'd be willing to help.

"Speaking of which," Hyron said, looking at the water clock hung on the sitting room wall, "you're going to be late if you don't hurry."

Evalon didn't bother checking the time because she knew her uncle was always right about that sort of thing. And she did sleep in. After Hyron and Mylane had gone to bed she had stayed awake for hours mulling over what she had heard.

Quickly shoveling food into her mouth, Evalon finished eating, grabbed her satchel, gave a kiss on her guardians' cheeks, and ran out the door in the direction of the school. She fell into a long, easy stride that would get her to school on time and she let her mind wander. She was leaving. Not forever, of course, but for a long time. She would be leaving Gisla, the only town she had ever known, and was traveling to Mydalr, the place she had dreamed and fantasized about visiting more times than she could count. A strange buzz of excitement tingled in her stomach.

It was a beautiful day after the soft drizzling of yesterday. The ground was moist and the fields she passed through to get to school were still wet with rain and dew.

When she arrived at school, Evalon was in a much better mood than she usually was. Her shoulders didn't sag on her way to Herbalism, and her Hand-To-Hand class seemed to pass in a blur in her euphoria, and her usual small, quickly-drained supply of energy seemed to have exponentially increased overnight. Her instructor even told her had the end of class, "Good work today, Miss Rolla. Keep that effort up and you'll be doing Langwabo in your sleep." By the time Foreign History arrived, Evalon was convinced she'd had the best day of her life.

"Settle down, now," Mr. Burachel said, calming the loud din of talking students. "We'll be reviewing the Satrian Treaty today. Who can tell me what that was?"

The euphoria must have dimmed Evalon's shyness, because she didn't hesitate to raise her hand.

Mr. Burachel seemed surprised at her instant, confident hand, too. "Yes, Miss Rolla?"

"It was a treaty with Satria that stated that Eslait wouldn't use our dragons against them in times of peace. In return, Satria would open trade routes in its capital." Evalon's answer was confident and loud, so very different from her usual mumbling.

"Precisely, Miss Rolla," Mr. Burachel said, a bit taken about by the instant reply. Much coaxing was usually needed to get an answer out of Evalon. "And can anyone tell me why this was such an important treaty?"

Again, Evalon's hand shot up in the air.

"Yes, Miss Rolla?" he said uncertainly. He looked as thought perhaps he thought was dreaming.

"Through trading we've been able to use firmer and lighter materials for dragon saddles and rider harnesses, and since dragons are our main military power, we've grown stronger in that respect."

"Again, correct," Mr. Burachel said. Now he really appeared confused.

This routine went on throughout the entire class period. Mr. Burachel would ask a question and Evalon would raise her hand and answer. By the time the class ended, Mr. Burachel looked like he was in an alternate reality.

"How was school?" Uncle Hyron asked at dinner that evening.

Evalon smiled and said, "Great."

He eyebrows drew is surprise. Evalon rarely had such enthusiasm about her education. He continued with his daily supper questions. "Anything exciting?"

Evalon shook her head. "Unless you count finding a spare pencil in the hallway exciting, no."

"Why such the good mood, then?" Aunt Mylane asked curiously, also noticing her niece's strange behavior.

"I'm not sure," Evalon admitted. "I think I'm just excited about going to Mydalr. It will be like an adventure!"

Her aunt gave a tight smile. "Yes, I'm sure we'll find some excitement there. And you may just find a few new friends while we're there." Her aunt said it casually, but Evalon could read the deeper meaning of her words. Her good mood evaporated.

"Oh, yeah," she said. She silently took a bite of her steamed beets and potatoes. "Friends." The word felt strange on her lips, like an ancient language that she didn't understand. She had never had any friends. She'd had plenty of acquaintances, but never friends. She had always had her books, fantasies, and her aunt and uncle, and that was company enough for her. She knew why her aunt wanted her to have friends-- she couldn't live her life alone forever, of course-- but she didn't like being pressured into it.

Mylane seemed to read her mind, because she reached across the table and took Evalon's hand. "Just try?" she pled. "I'm sure many of the children there have similar interests to you."

Evalon looked at her lap and nodded.

The rest of the week seemed to pass like a turtle swimming through syrup-covered peanut butter. The weekend came and went just as slowly. Finally, the week came when they'd be moving. Every morning Evalon would wake up, quickly shower and dress, eat breakfast, and leave for school. Once at school, Evalon would sit through her classes with something less than enthusiasm. Each minute felt like a day in itself, and the water clock on the wall seemed to drip slower than hard honey. Even Foreign History, her favorite class, no longer held its appeal. All she could think about was Saturday, when she and her family would move to Mydalr.

After school, Evalon would hurry home and help Aunt Mylane pack. Everyday a new armful of trunks were added to a large pile by the front door. Evalon was surprised at how much there was to do. All the little knickknacks and decorations on the walls and tables had to be wrapped in cloth to protect from damage and stacked neatly within trunks and chests. They packed away Aunt Mylane's grandmother's antique water clock and family pictures in one chest and all of Evalon's clothes in another. There were at least three large trunks full of the family's books.

Finally, at long last, the day came. Evalon woke bright and early, her excitement evident in every aspect. She jumped up from her bed and let the light blanket that she had slept with fall to the floor. She quickly dressed, folded up her blanket, and collected the few things in her room she still hadn't packed: A small blue box full of jewelry; a comfy pillow; a large novel she was planning to read on the journey; the only picture she had of her parents. It had been taken when she was a baby, and the smiling faces of her parents were on either side of a small bundle with Evalon's bored-looking face poking out of it. Evalon smiled sadly at the picture. It was the one thing she had to remember her parents by.

Her mother had been a beautiful woman. She'd had long, curly hair darker than night, and eyes of the same caliber. She'd been tall and elegant, and her smile brightened the picture significantly.

Evalon wished she looked like her mother. Instead, she resembled her father, a short, plain-looking man. He'd had a very round face with hair that wasn't exactly brown but not exactly blonde, either, and eyes that weren't exactly blue but weren't exactly gray, either. He'd been somewhere in between. Just like her.

Evalon slipped the photograph into her pillowcase and looked around her room. Not much had changed since packing away all her clothes into a small trunk by the door. The walls were the same dark oak as the rest of the house and the wooden floor was worn and jagged. The bookshelves were empty, and the only other knickknack she'd had was now tucked away in her pillowcase. Was that really all she had to show for twelve years of living in this house? A case full of books and a picture of her dead parents?

Things will changes once we reach Mydalr, she reminded herself. The thought sent a tingle of excitement through her body to her toes.

Uncle Hyron lifted all the heavy trunks that Evalon and Mylane had spent the week packing into the back of the large cart hitched up to two large mares, one the color of custard and the other black and shiny like a beetle. It was strange to think that the entire Rolla family's lives could fit into a single cart.

"Are you ready?" Aunt Mylane asked with a tight smile as she came out to where Evalon was watching her uncle. She felt bad she couldn't help, but she was much too weak to lift the heavy trunks and chests.

"Absolutely," Evalon said excitedly.

"Well, this is the last one," Hyron grunted as he lifted a chest containing Mylane's kitchen supplies into the cart. The chest made a loud thud! and, and with that thud! the Rolla family's fate was sealed.

They were finally going to Mydalr.