She thrust her great head at him, but Reyn held his ground. Ronica, gripping Keffria's shoulders, tried to drag her back, but she would not budge. She grasped Selden as he strained toward the dragon. Their tableau held, a frozen statue of fear and longing. Then Keffria heard Reyn gasp out his breath, and not take another. He was transfixed by the swift silver spinning of the dragon's eyes. The creature did not touch Reyn, but the Rain Wilder leaned toward her, his muscles standing out as if he resisted a great force. Keffria reached to restrain him, but beneath her hand, his flesh was set like stone. Reyn's lips moved, but he uttered no sound.

Abruptly, the dragon's eyes stopped their silver swirling. Reyn dropped at their feet like a puppet with severed strings. He sprawled motionless on the cold stone floor.

REYN HAD NOT KNOWN SHE COULD REACH OUT AND TOUCH HIS MIND SO effortlessly. As he stared into her eyes, he felt and heard her within his thoughts. "Faithless little man," she said scathingly. "You measure me by your own actions. I have not betrayed you. You blame me because you could not find your female, but I had already kept my word to you. I could not rescue your Malta. I did all I could and then I left you to solve your problem. You failed. That was not my fault, and I do not deserve to be reviled for it. The failure is yours, little male. Nor did I lie. Open yourself. Touch me and know that I spoke true. Malta lives."

Twice before, he had touched souls with Malta. In the mystic intimacy of the dream-box, in the joining made possible by finely powdered wizardwood, their thoughts had mingled. They had dreamed well together. The memory of it still stirred his blood to heat. In the dream-box unity, he had known her in a way he could never mistake for another. Beyond scent, touch or even the taste of her lips was another sensation that was the essence of Malta in his mind.

The dragon seized his mind: he was held, whether he would or not. He struggled, until he sensed in the dragon another reaching. Faint as perfume on the wind, a rare yet familiar sensation touched his mind. Malta. Through the dragon he sensed her but could not touch her. It was as taunting as seeing her silhouette on a blowing curtain, or smelling her scent and feeling the warmth of her cheek on a recently vacated pillow. He leaned toward it, yearning, but could find no substance. He felt Tintaglia's efforts, as if she sorted Malta's thread from a tangled skein of sensations. Here it was strong and clean, and then it vanished into memories of wind and rain and salt water. Where is she? his mind frantically demanded of Tintaglia's. How is she?

1 cannot know such things by this sense! the dragon replied disdainfully. As well sniff for a sound, or taste sunlight! This is the bonding sense, not meant to flow between human and dragon. You have not the ability to reciprocate, and so she is unaware of your yearning. I can only tell you that she lives, somewhere, somehow. Now do you believe me?

"I BELIEVE MALTA IS ALIVE. I BELIEVE SHE LIVES. SHE LIVES." REYN HOARSELY whispered the words. Agony or rapture could have been his emotion; it was hard to tell.

Jani had clambered from the dais and forced her way through the crowd to kneel beside her son. Now she looked across Reyn's body at Selden. "What did she do to him?" she cried.

Keffria watched them both. Did Jani know how much she resembled the dragon? The fine scaling on her lips and brow and the faint glow of her eyes in the torchlight all contributed to the effect. Jani knelt by Reyn's body and stared down at him just as Tintaglia looked down on them. How could one who looked so like the dragon ask her son such a question? Selden knelt beside them, but he gazed raptly up at the dragon that loomed over them. His lips moved as if he prayed, but his eyes were on Tintaglia.

"I don't know," Keffria replied for her son. She looked down at Malta's stirring betrothed. He looked half a dragon himself, but he had been willing to risk his life to save her daughter's. His heart was as human as hers. She glanced at her own son, regarding the dragon so intently. Light ran across Selden's light scaling. He, too, had stood before the dragon and begged for his family. He was still hers. In an odd way, so was Reyn. Keffria set her hand gently on Reyn's chest. "Lie still," she bade him. "You'll be all right. Just lie still."

Above them, the dragon threw back her head and trumpeted triumphantly. "He believes me! You see, folk of Bingtown. I do not lie! Come. Let us seal this bargain we have made, and tomorrow begin a new life for all of us."

Jani swept suddenly to her feet. "I will not agree. There will be no bargain here until I know what you have done to my son!"

Tintaglia gave Reyn a careless glance. "I have enlightened him, Trader Khuprus. That is all. He will not doubt me again."

Reyn abruptly clutched Keffria's wrist in his scaly hand. His eyes bored into hers. "She lives," he promised her wildly. "Malta truly lives. I have touched minds with her, through the dragon."

Beside her, Ronica gave a broken sob. Keffria still could not find hope. Was this true, or a dragon's deception?

The whites of Reyn's copper eyes glowed as he struggled to a sitting position. He drew an uneven breath. "Strike what bargain you will with Bingtown, Tintaglia," he said in a low voice. "But before you do, we will make our own agreement." His voice dropped. "For you have handed me the final piece of a puzzle." He lifted his eyes to stare at her boldly as he offered, "Others, dragons like yourself, may still survive."

At this last sentence, Tintaglia froze, looking down on Reyn. She twisted her head speculatively. "Where?" she demanded.

Before Reyn could reply, Mingsley had clambered down from the dais to push between the dragon and Reyn. "This is not fair!" he proclaimed. "People of Bingtown, listen to me! Do the Rain Wilds speak for all of us? No! Should this one man be able to halt our bargaining over a matter of the heart? Of course not!"

Selden stepped up to him. "A matter of the heart? A matter of my sister's life!" He switched his gaze to the dragon. "She is as dear to me as any serpent is to you, Tintaglia. Keep faith with me on this. Show them all that you see my family's need for her is as pressing as your drive to save your own kind."

"Silence!" The dragon's head shot down. A tiny nudge sent Mingsley sprawling to one side. Her eyes fixed on Reyn. "Other dragons? You have seen them?"

"Not yet. But I could find them," Reyn replied. A faint smile played about his mouth but his eyes were grave and hard. "Provided you do as Selden suggests. Prove that you understand our kin matter as much to us as yours do to you."

The dragon flung her head up suddenly. Her nostrils flared and her eyes spun wildly. She spoke as if to herself. "Find them? Where?"

Reyn smiled. "I do not fear to tell you. It will take man's work to unearth them for you. If the Elderkind took cocooned dragons into shelter in one city, perhaps they did in another as well. It is a fair trade, is it not? Restore my love to me, and I shall endeavor to rescue any of your kin who may have survived."

The dragon's nostrils flared wide. The glow of her eyes brightened. Her tail lashed with excitement and from outside the walls, Keffria heard the fearful cries of watching folk. But within the walls, Reyn stood still, teetering on the edge of triumph. All around him, folk were frozen into a listening silence.

"Done!" roared the dragon. Her wings twitched, shivering and rustling as if she longed to spring into flight immediately. They stirred the cold night air and sent it whispering past the huddled folk in the roofless building. "These others will make plans for the dredging of the river. You and I will leave at first light, to begin the search for the ancient ruins-"