Suddenly, with a savage grunt, Knucklebones threw both bars over so they closed on the enemy flitter. Below, the redheads blasted another ball of fire upward that plowed through the cockpit. Sunbright felt flame lick his thigh, smelled burnt wool and wicker. Then the dangling hook snagged on a strut of the flitter beneath.

For a second, the two craft were tethered together like a mad horse and cockeyed cart.

Then Knucklebones snapped the bars the other way. With a splintery crash, the top wing of the enemy flitter tore free. Sunbright glimpsed two surprised faces topped by red hair, and felt his own craft lurch from the added weight and the pinwheeling of the hooked wing. He yelled, "We won! We won! You did it-"

Fire-damaged wires under the cockpit snapped: one, two, three. The bars in Knucklebones's hands stopped jerking-because they were free, unattached.

Unfettered, the flitter banked, stalled, hung, then dived nose-first for the city of Ioulaum. In flashes Sunbright saw a wall, a building corner, a garden, a treetop -then an explosion of green and brown and brilliant light. Then nothing.

Voices split Sunbright's skull, hands tore at his flesh, and fire seared his eyeballs. Lurching in midair, he grabbed for support and heard a man yelp. His back slammed earth.

Gradually pain subsided, though his head hummed like a hive of bees. Someone rolled back his eyelid and peered close. It was Knucklebones. She wore a split lip and blood was running from her forehead. "Sunbright? Can you hear me?"

Over the buzzing, he roared, "Yes! Let go of my eyeball!" With a grunt from pangs and twinges, he rolled to his knees, pushed against the grass, and staggered erect.

Nobles in fine gowns and capes and hats, and servants in house colors and aprons filled someone's yard. Maids and serving boys were smeared with blood: Knucklebones's and Sunbright's. Besides her scalp and lip wounds, the thief had a lame arm stuck in her belt.

Sunbright checked, found numerous scratches, scorched skin, and a leg game from a wicked bruise. Cable was still twisted around one ankle. The wreck of the flitter hung in an elm tree. Cardinals and squirrels skittered over it, investigating. Servants had tugged them out of the trees, and Sunbright groggily thanked them.

Lady Bly was neither thankful nor quiet as she berated Knucklebones. "… told you repeatedly not to crash in the city! This is not my tree, it's Lord Kyle's, and I must pay damages! If you'd listened-"

Knucklebones sniffed, closed one nostril, and blew blood, making Bly jump backward for fear of staining her clothes. In a scratchy voice, the thief asked, "What of the redheads?"

"They're not my problem!" Bly snapped. "They're Lady Fayina's charges! And they ruined a dining hall belonging to Lord and Lady Greatas! Their blood has soaked the carpet-"

"So they're dead?" Knucklebones groaned.

"Don't interrupt me, you saucy tart! I don't care if they're dead-they knew the risks-and if you think I'll pay after you-"

Quicker than a mink snatching a chick, Knucklebones's one good hand flicked her long, black blade from her belt. The crowd gasped as the knife tapped Lady Bly's upper lip. Ever so gentle, ever so threatening. The archwizard froze.

"You'll pay us," Knucklebones hissed quietly. "We flew your craft, killed the other crew-who cheated like you, you skiving parasite-and won your bet. It will take you seconds to scry for us, and you will, or you'll be Lady No-Nose until they regrow a new one. And I suggest you other 'nobles' refrain from employing any magic. It might jiggle my hand. Let's walk to your workshop."

"Certainly," squeaked the archwizard. Her eyes bulged to see the blade under her nose. "Howsoever you wish."

Knucklebones slid behind the mage, prodded her, and waggled at Sunbright. The three left crowd and garden behind.

It was only two houses to Lady Bly's, and Knucklebones made the elderly mage skip. On the stairs, the thief ordered, "Sunbright, block the door! Pile furniture against it. They'll have guards immediately. You, milady, make magic. And be quick, or you'll snort your own blood! Brush Sunbright with that sage-"

"No need," the archwizard said, standing ramrod straight with the knife under her nose. "The table remembers the last enchantment. Let me just touch it." Leaning forward, she brushed the night-black surface, crooned softly as if putting a child to sleep. A faint gray blur formed on the tabletop, then widened and clarified as before.

"Sunbright, hurry!" called the thief.

Still weaving from being knocked out, Sunbright nevertheless had dumped crates, books, chairs, and a table against the door. Now he crawled upstairs for fear of pitching backward. Knucklebones watched Lady Bly while Sunbright peered at the scrying table. Blood dripped from an ear, splashed the black stone, and sank without trace.

As promised, the same scene appeared, the common house, but time had lapsed, and the dim room was empty except for an elderly couple who huddled by the fire and gazed into smoky depths.

"Iceborn and Tulipgrace! Oh, Mother Reindeer guide me! I need to see more!"

"Patience," gargled Bly. "The image grows."

As if the viewers were birds taking wing, the old couple grew smaller. The picture changed to a scabby rooftop made of brush. Sunbright saw that the ground around the common hut was oddly littered with bones and offal and trash. His tribe had always kept their camp neat. Higher rose the view, until they saw more huts of bark slabs and brush, or sunken homes of stone, haphazard and slovenly. He didn't have time to study the camp, for the scene shrank rapidly. Soon they were a bowshot in the air, and details were obscure. Across a broken plain of rocks he saw a village-no, a whole town! His people had never camped near towns before! Then a flash of silver. Sunbright recognized the salt waves of the Narrow Sea. He'd seen them a thousand times. His tribe was camped near the sea, and a town, in summer?

But that put them on the wrong side of the sea! Why…? He caught his breath as a trio of mountains swirled from the distance. "I know them!" he said. "The Channel Mountains! The last we call the Anchor! They're northwest… The town must be Scourge, and my people south of it! But why?"

He blinked as the image went black. Lady Bly had touched the tabletop and ended the scrying spell. Poised once more, she ignored the thief's blade and commanded, "You have it. Now leave."

"You can find them?" Knucklebones asked her lover.

"Aye, I can…" Lost in thought, the shaman barely heard himself say, "But why there?"

"We'll go ask them," Knucklebones snapped. The shattering vision had left Sunbright more stunned than any bang on the head, so she took charge. "Watch her a moment."

Jerking a leg from under her, the thief tumbled Lady Bly across her own magic table. The old woman squawked. Pinning her hands, Knucklebones tugged down twine used to bind herbs and lashed the woman's thumbs together, passed the twine under the table, and lashed it to her ankles. The archwizard cursed, but the thief conceded, "You won't lie here long. Your precious city guards-may the gods rot their livers-will come hunting us criminals. Rest easy, and be glad you survived trying to weasel out of a bargain. Come on, Sunbright!"

Knucklebones flew to the stairs and spiraled down. The barbarian clumped after, entered the cellar. The thief dumped their satchels and weapons onto the remaining flitter and lashed them tightly. "Open the doors!" she said.

"We're not flying again, are we? We've crashed twice!"

"We've had practice, then. Get the doors while I check these wires. The guards will break down her doors soon enough, so there's only one way out. Besides, your tribe's at the Narrow Sea, aren't they? We saw that from the air."