"What would you know of such things?" he observed as he stumped past her.

"I had words with her this morning. She was passing civil with me, and spoke openly of her admiration for you. Let her see you admire her as well, and it will tickle her vanity. Dragon she may be, yet she is female enough that we understand one another." She paused, then added, "She says we are to call her Bolt, as in lightning bolt. The name fits her very well. Light and power shine from her."

Kennit halted. He turned back to face her. "What has brought about this new alliance?" he asked her uneasily.

Etta cocked her head and looked thoughtful. "She is different, now. That is all I can say." She smiled suddenly. "I think she likes me. She said we could be like sisters."

He hoped he concealed his surprise. "She said that?"

The whore stood clutching the linens to her bosom and smiling. "She said it would take both of us for you to realize your ambitions."

"Ah," he said, and turned and stumped away. The ship had won her. Just like that, with a kind word or two? It did not seem likely to him. Etta was not a woman easily swayed. What had the dragon offered her? Power? Wealth? But an even more pressing question was why. Why did the dragon seek to ally herself with the whore?

He found himself hurrying and deliberately slowed. He should not meet the dragon in haste. Calm down. Court her leisurely. Win her over, and then her friendship with Etta will be no threat.

As soon as he came out on the deck, he sensed a transformation. Aloft, the men were working a sail change, bandying jests as they did so. Jola shouted another command, and the men sprang to it. One man slipped, and then caught himself by one brawny arm. He laughed aloud and hauled himself up again. From the figurehead came a cry of delight at his skill. In an instant, Kennit knew the sailor had not slipped at all. He was showing off for the figurehead. She had the entire crew displaying their seamanship for her approval. They cavorted like schoolboys for her attention.

"What have you done, to affect them so?" he greeted her.

She chuckled warmly and glanced back at him over one bare shoulder. "It takes so little to beguile them. A smile, a word, a challenge to see if they cannot raise a sail more swiftly. A little attention, a very little attention, and they vie for more."

"I am surprised you deign them worthy of your notice at all. Last night, you seemed to have small use for any human being."

She let his words slip by her. "I have promised them prey, before tomorrow sunset. But only if they can match their skills to my senses. There is a merchant vessel, not too far hence. She carries spices from the Mangardor Islands. We shall soon catch her up, if they keep my canvas tight."

So she had accepted her new body, it seemed. He chose not to comment on that. "You can see this ship, beyond the horizon?"

"I do not need to. The wind brought me her scent. Cloves and sandal-wood, Hasian pepper and sticks of kimoree. The smells of Mangardor Island itself; only a ship with a rich cargo could have brought such scents so far north. We should sight her soon."

"You can truly smell so keenly?"

A hunter's smile curled her lips. "The prey is not so far ahead. She picks her way through those islands. If your eyes were as keen as mine, you could pick her out." Then the smile faded from her face. "I know these waters as a ship. Yet as a dragon, I do not. All is vastly changed from when I last took wing. It is familiar and yet not." She frowned. "Do you know the Mangardor Islands?"

Kennit shrugged. "I know the Mangardor Rocks. They are a hazard in fog, and in some tides, they are exposed just enough to tear the bottom out of any ship that ventures near."

A long troubled silence followed his words. "So," she said quietly at last. "Either the oceans of the world have risen, or the lands I knew have sunk. I wonder what remains of my home." She paused. "Yet Others' Island, as you call it, seemed but little changed. So some of my world remains as it was. That is a puzzle to me, one I can only resolve when I return home."

"Home?" He tried to make the question casual. "And where is that?"

"Home is an eventuality. It is nothing for you to trouble yourself about just now," she told him. She smiled, but her voice had cooled.

"Might that be the thing you will want, when you want it?" he pressed.

"It might be. Or it might not. I'll let you know." She paused. "After all, I have not yet heard you say that you agree to my terms."

Carefully, carefully. "I am not a hasty man. I would still like to know more of what they are."

She laughed aloud. "Such a silly topic for us to discuss. You agree. Because you have even less choice than I do in the life we must share. What else is there for us, if not each other? You bring me gifts, don't you? That is more correct than you know. But I shall not even wait for you to present them before I reveal that I am a far richer trove than you imagined you could ever win. Dream larger, Kennit, than you have ever dreamt before. Dream of a ship that can summon serpents from the deep to aid us. They are mine to command. What would you have them do? Halt a ship and despoil it? Escort another ship safely wherever it wishes to go? Guide you through a fog? Guard the harbor of your city from any that might threaten it? Dream large, and larger still, Kennit. And then accept whatever terms I offer."

He cleared his throat. His mouth had gone dry. "You extend too much," he said baldly. "What can you want, what can I give you worthy of what you offer?"

She chuckled. "I shall tell you, if you cannot see it for yourself. You are the breath of my body, Kennit. I rely on you and your crew to move. If I must be trapped inside this hulk, then I must have a bold captain to give me wings, even if they are only of canvas. I require a captain who understands the joy of the hunt, and the quest for power. I need you, Kennit. Agree." Her voice dropped lower and softer. "Agree."

He took a breath. "I agree."

She threw back her head and laughed. It was like bells ringing. The very wind seemed to blow stronger in excitement at the sound.

Kennit leaned on her railing. Elation rose in him. He could scarcely believe his dreams were all within his grasp. He groped for something to say. "Wintrow will be very disappointed. Poor boy."

The ship nodded with a small sigh. "He deserves some happiness. Shall we send him back to his monastery?"

"I think it is the wisest course," Kennit concurred. He covered his surprise that she would suggest it. "Still, it will be hard for me to see him go. It has torn my heart, to see his beauty so destroyed. He was a very comely youth."

"He will be happier in his monastery, I am sure. A monk has little need of a smooth skin. Still… shall we heal him anyway, as a parting gift? A reminder to carry with him, always, of how we shaped him?" Bolt smiled, showing white teeth.

Kennit was incredulous. "This, too, you can do?"

The ship smiled conspiratorially. "This, too, you can do. Far more effective, don't you think? Go to his cabin now. Lay on your hands and wish him well. I shall guide you in the rest."

A STRANGE LETHARGY HAD COME OVER WINTROW. FROM ATTEMPTING TO meditate, his mind had sunk deeper and deeper into an abstract abyss. Suspended there, he wondered distantly what was happening to him. Had he finally mastered a deeper state of consciousness? Dimly, he was aware of the door opening.

He felt Kennit's hands on his chest. Wintrow struggled to open his eyes, but could not. He could not awaken. Something held him under like a smothering hand. He heard voices, Kennit speaking and Etta replying. Gankis said something quietly. Wintrow fought to be awake, but the harder he struggled, the more the world receded. Exhausted, he hovered. Tendrils of awareness reached him. Warmth flowed out from Kennit's spread hand. It suffused his skin, then seeped deep into his body. Kennit spoke softly, encouraging him. The fires of Wintrow's life force suddenly blazed up. To his consciousness, it was as if a candle suddenly roared with the light and heat of a bonfire. He began to pant as if he were running an uphill race. His heart labored to keep up with the rushing of his breath. Stop, he wanted to beg Kennit, please stop, but no words escaped him. He screamed his plea into his own darkness.