Sintara opened her eyes again. There was no recapturing the dream and the memory was a thin and tattered substitute. She could hear the river muttering past the muddy banks, but she also heard the stentorian breathing of a dozen other dragons sleeping close by. There was no comparison between the dream and her reality.

Mercor had set his plan into motion with meticulous precision. He had never voiced his rumour directly to a human. Always, he had arranged for the dragons to be speaking casually of the wonders of Kelsingra when humans chanced to be nearby. Once, it had been as workers were carrying a beautiful mirror frame out of the buried city. She recognized the material it was made from, a peculiar metal that when stroked, emitted light. Mercor had glanced at it and turned aside to remark to Sestican, 'Do you recall the mirrored chamber of the Queen's Palace in Kelsingra? Over seven thousand gems were set in the ceiling mirrors alone. How they flared with light and perfume when she entered!'

Another time, it had been when the hunters had brought them the gamy remains of a stag to eat. As Mercor accepted his pitifully small share, he observed, 'There was a statue of an elk in the King's Hall at Kelsingra, was there not? Of ivory overlaid with gold, and his eyes were two immense black jewels. Remember how they shone when they activated him, and how he would paw the earth and toss his head when anyone entered the king's chambers?'

Lies, all lies. If any such treasures had ever existed anywhere, Sintara did not recall them. But each time the humans paused and watched him as he spoke, even if he did not glance in their direction. And before the moon had changed, humans came to them in the darkness, without torches, to whisper questions about Kelsingra. How far away had it been? Was it built on high ground or low? How large a city? Of what were the buildings constructed? And Mercor had lied to them as it suited him, telling them that it was not all that far, that it had been built on high ground and that all the buildings were built of marble and jade. But more than that, he would not tell them, not landmarks that had been nor how many days travel it had once been from Cassarick. Nor would he consent to help a human make a map of where it once had been.

'Impossible to tell,' he explained affably. 'In those days, the river was fed by a hundred tributaries. There was a great lake before one came to Kelsingra. That I recall. But more than that, well, I could not say. I could go there and find it again, I am sure, if I had a mind to do so and a way to feed myself. But, no, it is not a thing I can put into words.'

The next evening, there had been other men, asking the same questions, and two nights later, still more. All received the same teasing answers. Finally there had come by daylight half a dozen members of the Cassarick Traders' Council to offer a proposal to the dragons. And with them, incensed and fearful, came Malta the Elderling, dressed all in cloth of gold with a turban of white and scarlet on her head.

Only at Malta's request had all the dragons gathered to hear what the Council proposed. The Council had seemed to think that if they spoke to the largest dragon and gained his assent, they would have a binding agreement. Malta had laughed aloud at that and insisted that all be summoned. Then the head of the Council, a thin man with so little meat to his bones that he wouldn't have been worth the trouble of eating, spoke for a long time. Many unctuous words and promises he uttered, saying that the Council was troubled by the poor conditions the dragons were enduring, and that they hoped to help them return to their former homeland.

Mercor had assured them that they knew the humans were doing their best, and that dragons had no 'homeland' but were in their rightful forms lords of the three realms of earth, sea and sky. He had blandly pretended not to understand the broad hints the Council leader dropped until finally Malta cut through his foolishness to say bluntly, 'They think you can lead them to Kelsingra and that they will find vast treasure there. They seek to persuade you to leave here and go in search of that fabled city. But I, who love all of you, fear that they are merely sending you off to your deaths. You must tell them no.'

But Mercor had not heeded her advice. Instead he had said sadly, 'Such a journey would be an impossible undertaking. We would starve long before we led you to Kelsingra. Every one of us is willing to undertake such a journey. But there are among us some that are small and weak. We would need hunters to feed them, and attendants to groom us and tend us as the Elderlings used to do. No. I fear it would be impossible. I need not say "no" because "yes" would be meaningless.'

Then despite Malta's interruptions and pleadings and even her angry shouts, they struck a bargain. The Council would find for them hunters, and attendants who would accompany them and hunt for them and tend them in every way. And in return, all the dragons had to do was lead them to Kelsingra or where it once had been.

'To this, we can agree,' Mercor had told them gravely.

'They are tricking you!' Malta had objected. 'They wish only to be rid of you, so that they can dig up Cassarick more easily and be done with feeding you. Dragons, listen to me, please.'

But the deal had been struck. Kalo had pressed his muddy, inky foot to a piece of parchment held up to him, as if such a ridiculous ceremony could bind one dragon, let alone all of them. Malta had gritted her teeth and knotted her fists as the Council proclaimed this was indeed, the best plan. And Sintara had felt a shred of pity for the young Elderling who stood in such firm opposition to what the dragons themselves had manipulated the humans into offering them. She had hoped Mercor would find a way to have a quiet word with her. But either he did not care to do so or he thought it might endanger his plan. When the Council members left, she went with them, still pink-cheeked with fury.

'This is not final!' she had warned them. 'You need the signatures of every Council member to make this legal! Don't think I'll stand idly by while you do this!'

The glimpse of Malta had made her sad, and no doubt was responsible for her dreams. She was a young Elderling, a human newly changed into that form. She had years of growing and changing ahead of her, if she were to become all that the Elderlings of old had been.

But she would not. Some of the humans looked at her with wonder, but as many regarded her with disdain. She wondered what would become of Malta and Selden and Reyn now that Tintaglia had abandoned the new Elderlings, just as she had abandoned the other dragons. She did not fault Tintaglia for being gone. It was the dragon way to see first to one's own needs. She had found a mate and better hunting grounds and eventually she would lay eggs and they would hatch into serpents. The dragon cycle, the true dragon cycle, would begin again as those serpents entered the sea.

But in the years until then, Sintara and the other dragons were all that existed in the Rain Wilds. All of them were creatures from another time, re-born into a world that no longer remembered them. And unfortunately they had returned in dwindled forms that were unfit for this world.

Lords of the Three Realms, they had once called themselves. Sea, land and sky had all belonged to dragons and their kin. No one had been capable of denying anything to them. They had been masters of all.

And now they were masters of nothing, doomed to mud and carrion, and, she did not doubt, a slow death by slog up the river. She closed her eyes again. When the time came, she would go. Not because she was bound by Kalo's word, but because there was no future in staying here. If she must die as a crippled, broken thing, she would at least take a small measure of life first.