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snorted until the hapless crab was evicted, then sat back down to think about all of the ways he could kill Riolla and get away with it. The sun was going down, and the waves on the Silver Sea had quieted to gentle swells.

"By Nin's empty glass, I must have been here all day," Saelin muttered aloud, taking another swipe at the curious crabs, who had ventured forth sideways from their holes once it seemed safe again. They instantly pulled back into their small dark tunnels, brandishing their blue-and-red claws behind them. But Saelin could still see their little gleaming blue eyes, held high on stalks above their heads. "Stay there, or I'll have you all for dinner!" he threatened.

Instantly, his stomach reminded him that he had not eaten since yesterday. Time to try for the other shore, before he was stuck here all night with the sea fog cold and wet upon him. His outer robes were long gone, shucked against the deadly pull of the cauldron. If he stayed here, he knew he would freeze to death. He looked at the beach and the water between. There was nothing for it.

Saelin removed his short tunic, wound it into a tight ball, and slung it around one shoulder and onto his bare back in hopes of reducing the drag of the water as he swam. He gritted his teeth, smoothed his dark mustache, and dove into the cold sea, thinking about the little music box he had found and left in the sedan chair, wondering if it had survived Riolla's crossing.

Visions of how much kohli it would bring again filled his head: how he would spend it raqa bars, recounting for his guild members how he had never yet lost a single head he'd been sent for. The memory of Cheyne's incredible escape from their first encounter burned in his mind with each stroke toward the shore. And that woman's combs! His freshly opened cuts stung with the salty water. They would probably scar his handsome face… He would bring those combs back as a trophy-perhaps he would even

kill the digger with them after he had dispatched the girl.

By the time he reached the shoreline, he had convinced himself that he could find the little clock and had changed his mind about Riolla. But not about Cheyne.

Far down the beach, lavin pulled himself from the swirling surf, clutching in his good hand a waxed linen-bound bundle, red ribbon still tied around it, that he had pulled from the wreckage of Riolla's sedan chair.

"What is that, Muje?" said Doulos, coughing up more of the salty seawater.

"It looks like a little clock-very old. It seems to be dry, despite its recent treatment. Sort of like us. Thank you for your help in the water-I would never have made it without you. Where did you learn to swim so well, Doulos?"

lavin sat back on his haunches and gave the chroni-clave a small shake. When he was satisfied that it had remained watertight, he tried to get it to work. "Oh. It needs a key," he said, turning it over.

"I learned to swim in the Sumifan River, Muje. During the wet months, when I was not the old king's carrier, I worked my birds on the river. When we were children, before he left, my brother Rafek and 1 had twelve cormorants, and they fished for us. The prince sold the fish for much kohli."

Doulos's eyes followed the flight of a waterbird to the far side of the Silver Sea. "I miss my birds, but my friend will care for them now," said Doulos, spotting and retrieving one of the drowned ores' spears, which had washed up a few feet away. "Muje, lost things always find their way home. If there is a key to your clock, we can find it." Doulos smiled. lavin smiled back, humoring him.

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"It's a remarkable piece. Probably…" Javin wiped at the smudge on the bottom of the clock. It did not come off. Doulos waited patiently for him to finish. "Probably someone loved it," the archaeologist improvised. The smudge looked like a glyph. In fact, it looked like the same glyph that was on Cheyne's amulet.

"Muje, look… your hand." Doulos frowned.

Javin put the chroniclave down. The scorpion sting had flared again badly, despite the cold seawater and the drawing action of the salt. The wound was turning black and would have to be lanced again before they could go on. Javin took out his knife, shoved it hard into the sand several times, then struck his firestone against a rock. He held the knife over the firestone, and slowly put its heated point to the swollen sore.

When favin came to, Doulos was pouring water over his face with a shell. "Don't worry, Muje. It has been only a little while. But the assassin passed not fifty feet away from us, moving toward the mountain. He must be trying to catch up with his party. You should rest a while. They are taking an easy road; the Schreefa is now on her own feet." He chuckled. "She's taking the old caravan route, I think, so your son must still be going that way. It is probably overgrown, but far more passable than the forest."

"I know that route, Doulos. Come on. We're losing the light. I'll be all right. We have to get to Cheyne."

toward the selkies' lodge, Og dropped back a bit and fell in beside Wiggulf.

"Urn, sire, I was wondering if you could tell me just a bit more accurately when you think the, ah, orcess you left on the bridge piling will be arriving at your lodge to be reunited with her father…" he whispered nervously, thinking Yob could probably still hear him. Wiggulf turned and smiled, his large front teeth white against the shadows of the darkening forest.

"Oh yes, of course. Well, I would suppose her to be coming soon, unless the guards meet trouble. I take it you do not return her affections."

"I have been promised to another for many years," Og said delicately, as Yob's left ear twitched a bit in his direction. "I could never break that vow."

"I see," said Wiggulf, his bright eyes twinkling.

"Soon, you say? When might you be reckoning as soon, sire?" Og waited for more information, but the old selkie held his peace, an odd smile upon his lips. The songmage gave up and caught back up with Cheyne and Claria.

"She's coming. What are we going to do? You know

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what kind of trouble Womba can be. If she sees me, she'll never let me go. You have to protect me," he pleaded. Cheyne shook his head.

"Og, you have just sung us over the sea, turned a rash of vipers away, and brought Yob back to life. What can we do to protect you? You are holding half of your power again, in case you hadn't noticed," said Cheyne wearily.

It occurred to Og only then that Wiggulf had not asked for the water sapphire to be returned. Even more strangely, Og noted that he had not thought once about stealing the gem for himself. He opened his hand and looked at the stone.

"Oh. So I do," he said quietly.

They walked the next mile in companionable silence, watching the woods for unwanted company, though Wiggulf had agreed with Cheyne that it was unlikely Rotapan would follow them until he could find reinforcements, now that Og had the staff. But Riolla was very resourceful. And Wiggulf was quick to recount that she had long ago allied herself with Drufalden, the queen of the cold country, and the seIkies' other main enemy.

They stopped on a rise about a mile from the lodge. The sentry, a man with skin the color of copper and a head of short, blond hair, saluted Frijan readily, but had to be told his king was also present.