My head started to buzz! My heart beat faster, and suddenly I was awake-gloriously and mightily awake. I broke the chain holding me and came to look for you.”

“Thank Kiri-Jolith you did,” Linsha said gratefully. “Thank Afec for that liquid.” She twisted around to Callista and asked, “What happened to him? How was he killed?”

The merriment died from Callista’s blue eyes and she sighed at the memories. “When Sirenfal flew overhead, one of the Akeelawasee guards tried to pull us inside the palace. Afec fought him. He told me to run to you and get away. He fought the big guard to keep him away from me.” She wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. “Why would he do that? Why would he sacrifice himself for us?”

Linsha did not reply at first. Afec had been an unexpected gift in a foreign world, a friend and an ally. She thought back over the time she had spent with the old Damjatt, his hidden intelligence, his quiet manner, and his determination to help them get free. Thinking of him reminded her of the sack Afec had pushed into her hands. What could be so important? She pulled open the drawstrings and lifted out an ancient book bound in leather and tied with silken cords.

“By the gods!” she breathed. “It’s the text the priests were reading that mentioned Amarrel, the Warrior Cleric. He stole it! Why would he give this to me?”

Callista tried to shrug while keeping a tight grip on the dragon. “What did he say to you? Didn’t he speak Amarrel’s name?”

Linsha dredged her memory for the words she had scarcely heard. “He said Ariakan is not Amarrel.”

“Didn’t Lord Ariakan convince the Brutes he was?”

“Yes,” Linsha replied. She had to shout to be heard over the roar of the wind. “But if he wasn’t… who is?”

It was all too big a puzzle to worry about now. They still had to find their way home. Linsha tucked the book carefully away in its bag and said a silent prayer of farewell. She pulled out the ends of the knotted blue rope belt around her waist and admired its handiwork. Afec would never be forgotten in her lifetime. “At least he won’t have to suffer Lanther’s wrath,” she added at last.

The courtesan shifted carefully behind her. “Lanther.” She chuckled. “I assume he did not have the wedding night he was hoping for.”

“I’d say not.”

“Good. So, do you think your Tarmak marriage is legally binding in Ansalon?”

“I don’t think so, or I am going to have some explaining to do.” A pang of hunger in her stomach diverted her attention to a subject more pressing. “What supplies do we have? Were you able to bring anything?”

Callista showed her a single waterskin and a small bag of food she had kept concealed under her clothes during their escape. It wasn’t much, and it would have to be carefully rationed, but with some self-discipline and a stop or two along the islands that bordered the Blood Sea of Istar, they might be able to make it.

The women talked a little more before they settled down on the warm, broad shoulders of the dragon and took turns trying to sleep. Sirenfal flew on, the open sea before her and a rosy dawn on her left.

Linsha was the first to awaken hours later. She opened her eyes and stared blearily at the world around her, wondering why the sky was moving at such an odd angle. Something was changing-rapidly downward. She sat up, suddenly alert and worried for Sirenfal. Below her the sea rushed up to meet them, and as far as she could see there was nothing but water in gently rolling waves.

“Sirenfal?” she called worriedly.

“I’m sorry, Linsha. I have to rest. My wings aren’t accustomed to flying anymore,” the dragon told her. She had to struggle to maintain her controlled flight while she dropped toward the water, and there was a wheeze in her breath Linsha had not noticed before.

“Rest? Rest where?” Linsha said incredulously.

“Well, down there. I can’t swim like a bronze, but I can float. I just need to rest my wings.”

There was no time to answer. Linsha had just a moment to steady the sleeping courtesan as the dragon braced her legs in front of her. Her wings tilted to brake her speed, and she touched down on the surface like a huge swan. Warm water sprayed out in her wake; a wave washed over Linsha’s legs. Callista came awake with a scream and grabbed Linsha’s waist. Then they were down, settling in the sea, while Sirenfal’s wings spread out on the water like outriggers to help hold her bulk on the surface. A sigh of relief whistled out her long nose.

Linsha peeled Callista’s fingers off her waist. “We’re safe on the dragon,” she said as much to reassure Callista as herself. She felt the waves gently rock the exhausted dragon. “You can take off this way, can’t you?” she asked after a while.

“If not, you can get off and push,” came the brass’s drowsy retort. She curved her neck and pulled her head down just like a swan and let herself float. “We’re in the southern current,” she told Linsha. “We’re still moving toward home.”

The dragon fell quiet, and Linsha decided to let her rest. Remarkably, Callista had survived the entire landing and still sat upright on the dragon’s broad back. Linsha debated about trying to sleep again, but she was wide awake now. She looked at the sun still shining hot in the west. She looked at the dragon and the waves, and without a second thought she gave in to impulse. Her clothes flew off, and she dove into the warm water.

With lazy strokes she swam beside the dragon, diving around her and splashing like a child to wash the stink of the Tarmaks off her body. Eventually she stopped to rest against Sirenfal’s wing.

“Where did you learn to swim like that?”

She glanced up to see Callista staring down at the waves in suspicion and fear. Her blond hair had been tied back in a pony tail, and her face and arms were still smudged with soot and dirt and smeared with blood.

“My brother taught me the strokes, but Crucible taught me to enjoy the water,” Linsha said. “Why don’t you join me?”

A grimace marred the courtesan’s lovely features. “I can’t swim,” she admitted. She blinked and stared down at Linsha. “Where did you get that key? I don’t remember seeing that before.”

Linsha’s fingers touched the scales and the key hanging on the gold chain. “It was a gift from Lanther.”

“A key?” Callista said dryly.

“It’s supposed to be the key to the chamber where the eggs are being kept.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I’m willing to take the key back to the Missing City and try it.”

“Who is Crucible?” Sirenfal’s tired voice asked.

“He was my friend,” Linsha replied.

“Tell me about him.”

Linsha climbed up to the dragon’s back, pulled her grubby clothes on, and sat in the warm breeze to drip-dry. “It’s a long story,” she sighed.

“We have the time,” Callista pointed out. “I haven’t heard the whole story either.”

So while the dragon rested, rocking gently on the waves, Linsha told them both about Crucible and Lord Bight, Iyesta, Lanther, Sir Remmik, and the fall of the Missing City. She hadn’t meant for her tale to be anything more than a quick, cool assessment of the bronze dragon, but once started the story came out in full passionate detail. Neither Callista nor Sirenfal interrupted her once. They listened avidly to the end, when Linsha told Sirenfal of her meeting with Lanther and his promise of the eggs.

When she finally stopped and stared silently at the darkening sky, Callista said, “Gods of all, Linsha, I had no idea.”

A faint glint of tears shone in the corners of Linsha’s eyes, and she whisked it away before anyone noticed. “Yes, I hadn’t realized what a tale it becomes when you put it all together.” She retrieved the water bag and took a small swallow to ease her dry throat.

“Do you know if Crucible is alive?”