A short distance before Sisay, the ground fell away precipitously, ending in a cliff, with the sea a thousand feet below. The road here ran north along the top of the ridge, its seaward side bordered by a wall. Sisay slipped from the saddle of her Jhovall and approached one of the Mercadian servants.

"Where is Saprazzo?"

He gestured toward the sea. "There. Beyond the waters and within the waters."

Sisay shaded her eyes against the glare. "I can see something way off there, but it doesn't look high enough to be an island."

"Nonetheless, that is the isle of the unnatural and vile Saprazzans, may their names be cursed forever." The epithets rolled easily and unthinkingly off his tongue. "We will halt here and rest before traveling on to the great port city of Rishada."

"When will we get there?"

"It is hard to say. So many things are dictated by the gods, who may intervene in even the best-laid plans. Weather, accidents, enemy raids-"

"All right, all right!" Sisay, having had some experience with Mercadian answers to simple questions, beat a hasty retreat. She led her Jhovall back to where Hanna sat looking at the sea.

"We're camping here, evidently."

The navigator nodded.

The curtain on Orim's litter drew aside, and the healer slowly emerged. She looked about, not seeing anyone in the traveling party, only the sea. It seemed to Sisay that Orim's face was changing. The expression of irredeemable grief she had worn since her return from the settlement had been replaced by something else. The sadness was still there, but now it was mixed with joy.

"Orim!" Hanna stepped toward the healer, hand outstretched.

Slowly the Samite turned to face her. Her eyes changed focus as she looked at the tall, blonde woman.

"Hanna." Her voice sounded like that of someone waking from a long dream. She turned. "Hello, Sisay."

Sisay smiled tentatively. "How are you doing?"

The healer made no reply, turning back to the sea. "Where are we?" she asked.

"Somewhere south of Rishada-another city-state. Kind of a jumping-off place for Saprazzo."

Orim nodded, seeming to lose interest. She turned to Sisay's Jhovall, stroking its flank, patting it gently. Then she put her head close to its ear and whispered something. The beast gave a loud purr, as was its wont when contented, and arranged itself peacefully in a sitting position.

Sisay stared. "How did you do that? It took me a week of hard work and falls before I could even get the damn thing to let me sit on its back."

The healer ruffled the short fur on the top of the Jhovall's head. She turned to her companions. "It's good to see you again. I haven't said that before."

Sisay looked at her thoughtfully. Orim was more than a friend. On Weatherlight she had been under Sisay's command. "Orim," she said quietly, "tell us what happened to you."

The healer shook her head. "No, Sisay. I'm not ready for that yet. Maybe never. But regardless, I'm happy to see you and Hanna."

Next day, as they journeyed northward, Sisay, Hanna, and Orim grew accustomed to the spectacle of the Outer Sea on their left. On the third day, the road broadened. A low stone wall ran beside it, along which small empty guardhouses stood every mile or so. After perhaps fifteen miles, the road descended toward the water. Long, sweeping turns burrowed into the cliff wall, and Sisay sometimes closed her eyes as her Jhovall's claws slipped on the spray-covered rock. The travelers' view to the north was blocked by a long spur of rock that thrust out into the sea. The sound of breakers filled the air all around, and many birds nested along the cliff wall.

A tunnel loomed before them, piercing the spur, barred by a great wrought-iron gate. The party came to a halt. One of the Mercadians approached the gate and placed his hand on the intricately carved iron plate at its center. He spoke a word, and there began a musical ringing that spread throughout the cavern and echoed above the crash of the waves below. Then, with a rumble, the great gates swung open, sliding into recesses in the rock. The party moved forward into the tunnel. As they entered, lights sprang up on the walb, illuminating the way. The passageway was long and straight, carved by picks. At the far end, a similar pair of gates opened as they approached. Sisay appreciated the military advantages of an approach that could trap invaders in a narrow space where they could be disposed of with impunity.

The caravan emerged from the tunnel, lights behind them fading into blackness. Before them, a steep, cobbled causeway descended into the main street of Rishada. Jhovalls' claws clicked along the street. Mercadians nodded condescendingly at the crowds that stared at them, shouting at the few foolish enough to block their way.

Rishada was a smaller version of Mercadia, with the same profusion of market stalls, the same clamor of merchants- but all of it had a distinctly nautical flavor. Many folk roamed the streets with the rolling gait of sailors. Fresh fish were laid out on stone slabs, along with crabs, lobsters, squid, shrimp, and other, less identifiable creatures.

The Mercadian procession made its way through the confusing maze of streets, down to a broad, open square. Around three sides of the square were low stone buildings. The fourth side was open to the sea and extended outward in a long pier lined with docked ships. Most were small fishing smacks, but a few were sleek schooners.

It was beside one of these that the caravan paused. The ship Facade had been chartered to take the ambassadorial contingent. The company loaded on the ship and settled in for a night in the moorings.

One night's stay in Rishada was enough to last the Weatherlight companions a lifetime. The cabin in which they were housed was dark and narrow and smelled intolerably of fish. The beds were small, lumpy, and damp, and there was little privacy save the darkness. All three women-Sisay, Hanna, and Orim-were crowded together, and since Orim chose to speak no more than a few words, Sisay and Hanna felt constrained to silence as well. They slept as best they were able and were roused the next morning by a sense of motion.

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Sisay rose and climbed to the deck. The crew had just cast off the lines, and Facade drew away from the city. Sisay breathed deeply. It felt wonderful once again to be aboard a ship under sail. Hanna came to join her, and the women traded quiet smiles.

On the water, the Mercadians seemed abnormally silent and tense. They huddled together on the deck while Sisay and Hanna stood in the prow of the ship, watching the water.

Rishada dropped quickly behind them. Before them the sea spread out in an endless horizon. Both women found the rush of air and water exhilarating after the long, hot, dusty journey. The wind filled the sails, and the flag of Rishada, gray with a red ship surmounted with a blue crest of arms, snapped smartly from the mast.

Along the surface of the water, small fish skimmed. One suddenly rose from the waves and, spreading a pair of broad fins from its sides, took to the air with a graceful swoop and soared away on air currents. Sisay and Hanna stood openmouthed as an entire flight of the flying fish followed their leader and disappeared into the yellow sky. The water was very clear, and Sisay at times glimpsed stranger creatures moving about in the depths. When she stared hard at the distant forms, they seemed only shadows that flitted over the dimpled waves.

Gazing at the illimitable ocean, Sisay said to Hanna, "What wonders await us out there?"

Hanna's eyes too were filled with the oddly colored sea. "What wonders, and what horrors?"

Two nights hence, Orim was at the prow when the horrors began.