Takara spoke with steel in her voice. "We have already won our freedom."

"Yes," the magistrate allowed uncomfortably. "On the other hand, your friends have not won their freedom, or even their lives."

"We ask only a stay of execution while we work out our bargain," Takara said.

"Speak on."

"You have our ship, but you cannot repair it. It is useless to you. We offer this bargain-we will repair Weatherlight and fly it on a mission in service of Mercadia in exchange for our friends' freedom and possession of the ship once the mission is complete," Takara said.

The chief magistrate nodded in consideration. Behind his pursed lips lurked a smile. "Your friends would be held captive until the mission was complete? Their lives are held in security?"

"Yes. And if you wisely choose Weatherlight's mission, you can make its singular appearance have an effect for centuries," Takara said.

The magistrate nodded, jowls rippling.

"There are conditions," Orim spoke up. "You cannot order Weatherlight to assault the Cho-Arrim in any way. They have suffered enough."

"Granted."

"And we need Mercadian assistance to repair the ship," Orim continued.

Shrugging, the magistrate said, "Whatever you require."

"We require passage to Saprazzo, realm of merfolk beyond the sea."

Brow furrowing, the magistrate said, "For what possible purpose?"

"To acquire the piece needed to repair the ship-an artifact called the Matrix."

A hiss of laughter came from the dais. "Do you truly believe you can steal the national treasure of the Saprazzans?"

"No," Orim said. "We will not steal it. We will bargain for it. And that is why we must be sent as ambassadors of Mercadia. We must be entrusted with the right to bargain on behalf of the city for this object."

"Outrageous! How shall foreigners represent Mercadia?"

"Send your own delegation along with us, if you must," Orim said. "They will assure the interests of Mercadia are guarded. We will function as ambassadors only in respect to acquiring the Matrix, and we will do so only to repair a ship that will perform a great service for Mercadia."

The hidden smile behind the magistrate's lips emerged now fully. "Perhaps we will merely acquire this item without you."

Takara spoke with a near sneer, "You have no idea how to incorporate it into the ship. And should you choose to deny us, perhaps we will simply orchestrate another escape, and bring old and new giant killers here to slay you and your Kyren court, and take back our ship and strafe this city until it is rubble." She smiled a dagger smile. "It is, as they say, your choice."

An ironic look crossed the magistrate's face. "Perhaps, and perhaps not. But the bargain is agreed to. You will go as emissaries to Saprazzo, in company with true ambassadors, will secure the Matrix and bring it to Mercadia to repair the ship, then will fly the ship on a mission of my choosing- not against any Cho-Arrim targets-and thereby win your friends' freedom and your ship."

"There is one more condition," Sisay said. "And this is nonnegotiable."

"What else could you possibly want?"

"A thousand gold to the family of farmer Tavoot…"

A week later, Sisay, Hanna, and Orim set out for Saprazzo. Takara remained in Mercadia to tend her father and make certain Gerrard and the other prisoners were treated well.

Though Sisay, Hanna, and Orim had intended to ride Jhovalls to the sea, the Mercadians would not deign the dust and fur of such a transit. Instead, they rode in silk-veiled litters borne by gray-skinned giants. Retinues of servants conveyed wine and fans and cheese. The ambassadors seemed incapable of traveling more than two or three hours a day and that only in the cool of early morning. During much of the day they sat in their tents complaining about the heat, the dust, and the long hours.

At first Sisay and Hanna had ridden in the curtained litters. By the second day, however, they found they preferred to walk or ride Jhovalls. Indeed, the pace was so leisurely that at the end of the day the only aches and pains they suffered were from sitting in one place too long.

Orim did not give up her private litter. She also spent evenings in her tent, meditating on the magic and mythology of the Cho-Arrim. When she spoke with her friends, she invariably directed the conversation toward the Power Matrix of the Saprazzans-what she called the "Mind of the Uniter."

Hanna knew of the Matrix from mentions in the Thran Tome and believed it could recharge-in fact supercharge- Weatherlight's damaged power stone. She sought the Matrix as one of the final pieces of the Legacy. Orim sought it as part of the Cho-Arrim Uniter. Sisay sought it just to get her ship and crew back. Discussions of the device gave the women common ground, but outside of these conversations, Orim spoke little with her comrades.

Onward they traveled. Gradually the scenery changed. The road wound out of flat, dusty plains and into a series of low hills, covered in scrub and broken by dry channels. The earth was a deep reddish brown, and the litter bearers often slipped when climbing down the sides of the chutes. Snakes slithered along the bottoms of the channels, red and black diamond patterns on their scaly backs. Near the mountain, the travelers had occasionally passed outlying farms, struggling to wrest crops from the inhospitable land. Farther from Mercadia, all signs of settlement ceased.

Wind swept over the hills, ruffling patches of long grass. The travelers made camp as best they could each night, servants clearing nettles. The ground was covered in harsh lava-like stones that poked through the bottoms of the tents and their thin blankets. Dry stalks rattled in night breezes, creating eerie moans and sighs that made sleep all but impossible. The hills grew steeper and the knifelike grass thicker.

Impatient with the slow pace, Sisay asked a servant why they did not conjure a dust cloud to take them to the shore.

"The clouds of hassim are present only on the west side of the mountain," the man replied. "Along this way, one must travel by the road." He sighed and looked about the desolate place. "My grandfather's grandfather could have told you of the days when it was lush and green, when water flowed in abundance. Trees rose overhead. Birds and beasts filled the land. But now…" He gestured at the dismal landscape.

Sisay rubbed her red and weary eyes. "So what happened?"

He was about to reply when a harsh cry from one of the Mercadian tents stopped him. He rose and hastily answered the call of his master.

As day after day passed, Sisay and Hanna succumbed to the boredom of the trip. The scenery changed little. After journeying a few hours, they would halt, pitch camp, and sit sweltering beneath the lemon sky and the merciless sun.

At last one morning, Sisay awoke from a restless sleep, emerged, and smelled on an east breeze a soothing scent: the tangy odor of salt water. The camp lay on the side of a long, ascending slope. The caravan had been climbing out of a broad basin, the bottom of which was broken by the crisscrossing dry water channels. Far to the north she saw a low, dark line that seemed to be a stone wall.

Hanna joined her and peered ahead. "The sea?" she asked.

"I think maybe over this ridge. I can smell it, but I can't hear it yet."

"Yes, the Mercadians say we're not far now. Perhaps another two or three days' travel."

The day's journey was somewhat longer than usual, and brought the party, shortly before noon, to the very top of the slope. When they crested it, Sisay stared in ecstasy at the vista spread before her.

As far as she could see stretched the ocean. On Dominaria, the seas were blue. Here, under yellow heavens, the waves were every shade of red, yellow, and orange. Along the horizon were low banks of clouds that promised of rain. The air was filled with sound that the hills had previously blocked: the cries of birds swooping to and fro over the water; the moan of wind as it swept along the shore and over the ridge. Distantly, breakers crashed against a rocky precipice.