"Did you send assassins into Luthcheq?"

"Again, of course not. The dishonor aside, what possible reason could there be?"

"Did you lend warriors to High Imaskar to serve aboard her ships?"

"You know better than anyone how fast I've danced to stay neutral in the quarrel between Chessenta and the Imaskari. And even if my policy had changed, I need every soldier I have to fight the giants."

"You know," Balasar drawled, "the last I heard, the Imaskari have an ambassador in Djerad Thymar. Somebody could ask him what's going on in their navy, and possibly unravel one little corner of this tangle, anyway."

"That," said Tarhun, "is a sensible idea. Certainly more sensible than what usually comes out of your mouth, scapegrace. Fetch Nellis Saradexma."

They didn't have to wait long. The Imaskari ambassador probably lived in apartments handy to the royal residence. Tall and thin, he had a high, broad slab of a forehead and a receding hairline that made it seem even more prominent.

Gray lines marbled his skin. Khouryn might have taken them for scars or a souvenir of some illness that marked its victims like the pox, except that the retainers accompanying Nellis had them too. Evidently the marks were a characteristic peculiar to their race, like the patterns etching the bodies of the genasi.

The envoy wore a high-collared coat with three layers of shoulder cape attached. The silvery fabric gleamed and rippled in the light. The shirt, sash, and trousers underneath were black, as were the several rings on his fingers and the wizard's orb tucked under his arm.

He had to palm the crystal globe in one long-fingered hand to bow as the dragonborn did on entering the presence of their overlord, and he managed it deftly. "Majesty. How may I be of service?"

"You can tell me," Tarhun said, "about the Imaskari's naval operations against Chessenta."

Nellis frowned. "As Your Majesty knows, Chessenta has been raiding High Imaskar for years, with no better justification than a hatred millennia out of date. We're simply retaliating in kind. I daresay that in our place, Tymanther would do as much and more."

"Maybe," Tarhun said. "But the war hero believes there are dragonborn serving aboard your warships. I need to know if it's true before I end up in the middle of your quarrel."

Nellis hesitated. "To the best of my knowledge, Majesty, that's not true."

"What does that mean?" Tarhun replied. "To the best of your knowledge?"

"I have a guess," Medrash said, "if you wish to hear it."

Tarhun gave him a nod.

"High Imaskar has never been much of a naval power," the paladin continued. "That's why the Chessentan privateers were able to cause so much harm. And my suspicion is, the Imaskari still don't have many warships they can truly call their own. Someone else is striking back at Chessenta on their behalf, and that's why even a high official like Lord Nellis doesn't know the details."

The vanquisher turned his gaze back on Nellis. "Is it so?"

The envoy took a breath. "Essentially. As Sir Medrash says, my people have no great seafaring tradition. Nevertheless, we laid plans to defend ourselves from the war hero's pirates. Then, however, enormous worms and other creatures started attacking from the Plains of Purple Dust. We've always had some trouble with them, but in times past the Giant's Belt and Dragonsword ranges served as natural barriers to hold most of them back. Suddenly that didn't seem to be true any longer. Which meant we had to counter multiple threats, not just one. It was at that point that emissaries from Murghom came to us with a proposal."

"Murghom," Tarhun said. His disgust was plain, and mirrored in the expressions of other dragonborn in the hall.

"Yes," Nellis said. To his credit, his voice remained steady despite the dragonborn's sudden hostility. "As you'd expect, not all of it, but several of the principalities allied for a common enterprise. They offered to see to our naval defense in exchange for gold, free access to the Alamber, and certain trading concessions."

Khouryn had never visited High Imaskar-or Murghom either-but he visualized the map of the East he carried in his head, and then he understood. If they chose, the Imaskari plainly could deny the merchant vessels of Murghom passage down the Rauthenflow to the sea, or charge them a toll to traverse the river.

"I understand your need," Tarhun said, "but it still sickens me that your empress would strike a bargain with dragons. I thought better of your people."

"Majesty, I'm sorry if we've lost your good opinion. But we needed help, and neither you nor ... anyone else who claimed to be our friend would join us in a fight against Chessenta. We took aid where we could get it. And earlier, I alluded to feuds and prejudices that persist even after they stop making any kind of sense. I respectfully suggest you consider the fact that the dragon princes of Murghom aren't the same wyrms who oppressed your ancestors in the faraway land where you once lived. They're a different group of dragons altogether."

"A dragon is a dragon," Tarhun replied. "Your people will learn that eventually, and I hope you don't pay too high a price for the lesson. Now, since your people have helped to poison Tymanther's relationship with Chessenta-"

"Majesty, as I already made clear, that isn't so. There can't be dragonborn on those warships, because dragonborn only come from Tymanther. If a significant number of them had traveled to Murghom to take service with the dragon princes, surely you'd know."

Tarhun faltered, no doubt because Nellis had made a sensible argument. Assuming it was valid, it also explained why unidentified dragonborn shouldn't be committing outrages in Luthcheq and Akanul either. Even though Khouryn had come face to face with the former and was starting to believe in the existence of the latter.

The vanquisher started again. "Be that as it may, milord, High Imaskar professes friendship for Tymanther. Will you stand with us if Chessenta attacks?"

Nellis shifted his gleaming black orb from the crook of one arm to the other. "Majesty, we're already fighting Chessenta on the sea, and I'm confident that will continue. I can't commit land troops to Tymanther's defense without consulting the empress. I know she'd want to send them, but it might not be possible until we counter the threat from the Purple Dust."

"Will she also want to send them if Shala Karanok grants passage to a genasi army?"

Now it was Nellis's turn to hesitate.

"I'll spare Lord Nellis the awkwardness of answering that question," Perra said. "Toward the end of my time in Luthcheq, it came to light that Akanul and High Imaskar have sealed an alliance."

"That's an ... overstatement," Nellis said. "Naturally, we Imaskari want to trade with as many-"

"Dragons and genasi?" Tarhun snarled. "Get out, milord. I'll send for you again when I feel sure of my ability to give you the courtesy due an ambassador."

The Imaskari bowed and withdrew.

Light rippling on his emerald scales, the vanquisher turned to Khouryn, Medrash, and Balasar. "Sirs, I excuse you as well. No doubt you'd like to refresh yourselves after your journey. Perra, my deputies, and I have a long palaver ahead of us."

Gaedynn woke in absolute darkness. For a moment, he was confused, and then memory flooded back.

The last thing he recalled was flying tied to the blue dragon's back. His wounds throbbed and made him weak. The ropes cut off his circulation. The high air chilled him. At some point it had all been too much, and he passed out.

And ended up lying on hard stone. Thanks to the wyrmkeeper's magic, his wounds only hurt a little now. But he was parched and stiff, and when he sat up, he felt the shackles around his wrists and the weight of the rattling chains attached to them.

"Gaedynn?" asked Jhesrhi, somewhere to his left.

He swallowed away some of the dryness in his throat. "Yes."

"Are you all right?"

"More or less, as best I can judge. You?"

"Yes."

"Well, now that I'm awake, I recommend you rid us of our chains, strike a light, and lead me to safety. While slaughtering any foes we meet along the way."

"I can't. Someone enchanted the shackles to inhibit spellcasting. If I had my staff, I might be able to overcome the effect, but I don't."

He sighed. "That's inconvenient. Do you know where we are?"

"A cave inside Mount Thulbane."

He winced. The volcano was the lair of Jaxanaedegor, the vampiric green dragon who was the Great Bone Wyrm's principal lieutenant. "I have to say, I'm a little offended we don't rate the hospitality of Alasklerbanbastos himself."

"Is there anything you can do?"

"At the moment? Just wait for a chance to present itself. Well, that and divert you with witty and erudite conversation. I referred to Alasklerbanbastos as 'himself,' but in your opinion is that accurate? I understand he started out male, but supposedly there's nothing left of him but a skeleton. Is a fellow still a fellow if his manliest parts have rotted away?"

Jhesrhi didn't answer.

"I suppose we could pose the same question about Szass Tam," Gaedynn continued. "The last time Aoth saw him, he was nothing but bone and flame. Although he probably looks more lifelike now. That's one of the advantages of being a lich and a necromancer, isn't it? If you need a patch job, you just find or make a fresh corpse and cut-"

"I didn't freeze," she said.

He hesitated. "What?"

"Fighting in the street. The enemy didn't overwhelm us and take you prisoner because I wasn't doing my part."

"I know that," he said. "It happened because we were outnumbered and Lady Luck was busy elsewhere."

She was quiet for several heartbeats, then said, "I thought you might think it was my fault because of what happened with the kobolds. And the way I've been since we arrived in Luthcheq."

"I have wondered and worried about you. So has Khouryn."

"What about Aoth?"

"Well, I could tell he's not puzzled. He knows what's bothering you, although much to my annoyance he kept your secret. But he was concerned. I think it's one reason he wished we had somewhere to go besides Chessenta."

Another silence. Finally she said, "I was born in Luthcheq. I started showing signs of having a talent for wizardry from an early age."

"Were your parents mages?"

"No. They were respectable merchants who shared the general prejudice against wizards. They were afraid I was going to draw demons into their home or grow up to commit horrible crimes. Most of all they worried that other people would find out I was an abomination, and that would damage their own reputations. So they forbade me to use my gift and prayed to Chauntea to take it away."

Chauntea, Gaedynn reflected, being the goddess who oversaw natural, healthy growth. "Obviously, that didn't work."

"No. I tried to be good and obey, but I couldn't keep from experimenting with my talent any more than you could have refrained from picking up a bow after you saw your elf friends practicing archery. And so my mother and father grew ever more afraid and loved me less and less.

"And then," she continued, her voice still oddly cool and matter-of-fact, "they led a caravan north. This was during one of those times when Chessenta and Threskel were supposedly at peace. But the north country was still full of brigands, human and otherwise, and a band of elemental magi waylaid us."

Elemental magi were ogres who, somewhat like the genasi, possessed an innate affinity for fire, earth, or air. "When you half saw that big kobold-thing standing in the dark, you took it for an elemental mage, didn't you? That's what ... rattled you."

"Yes. But let me finish telling this my own way. The caravan was better prepared than the giants expected, and the guards withstood their first attack. But the magi still posed a threat, and the creatures knew it. They demanded tribute to let my parents go on their way."

Gaedynn felt sick to his stomach. "You were the tribute, weren't you? Or a part of it."

"Yes." Jhesrhi's voice, though still soft and calm, grew bitter. "The elemental magi liked the idea of having a human child for a slave, and by that point my parents barely thought of me as their daughter anymore. I was just a problem, and this was a solution."

She took a breath. "The next several years were bad. The giants brutalized me in all the usual ways. When the shaman perceived my gift, they taught me their own kind of magic, but even that, which should have been joyous, was awful. Partly because they made me use it to help them attack other travelers."

"Knowing you as I do, I assume they must have taken precautions to keep you from turning the power on them."

"Yes. I don't know where they got it, but they had an old leather collar with an enchantment of obedience on it. And they made me wear it. But even if they hadn't, I don't know if I would have found the courage to rebel. I was so afraid of them! To some extent, that fear started trickling back as soon as I learned we were bound for Luthcheq, and it grew stronger when Aoth asked us to travel to Threskel."

"Levistus take him for that, and for dragging you to this wretched kingdom in the first place."

"He has to do what's right for the Brotherhood. The whole Brotherhood. And I have to perform the duties that fall to me, or I never should have joined the company in the first place. And I have performed them, except for those few moments with the kobolds."

"You performed them then too." He chuckled. "It just took you a little longer than I found comfortable. Still, for Aoth to send you on this particular mission-"

"He needed a mage, and he probably thought it might help that I spent years wandering the wilds of Threskel. Please don't be angry with him. I'd still be a slave if he hadn't rescued me."

"Oh?"

"It was pure chance, Tymora smiling on me or Ilmater taking pity on me at last. The Brotherhood was sailing to start a new commission, and storms damaged the ships. They had to put in to a port south of the Wizards' Reach for repairs, and while they were stuck there, some minor Jedea cousin wanted to hire a few sellswords to travel inland and do a job. Aoth was bored, so he decided to attend to it personally. When the elemental magi and I attacked, he and the other Brothers killed the ogres, but they let me live. Because those eyes of his could see it was the collar forcing me to fight. He got it off me and offered me a place in the company. Maybe because he realized I had nowhere else to go."

"Or maybe because he realized such a powerful wizard would be damn useful, especially after he arranged for additional training. Still, you've made your point. Perhaps I won't shoot him when we see him next."

She was silent again.

"Jhesrhi?" he asked.

Her chains clinked. "Now maybe you understand."

"I do."

"Not about the kobolds and all that. About before, and you and me. I thought that if it could be good with anyone, it would be good with you. But when we tried, all I could think about was the ogres. They were so ugly and rough and big, and I was so little. Just the stink of them ..." She drew a ragged breath.

Guilt twisted Gaedynn's insides. Which was completely unfair, since he hadn't known about the magi and certainly hadn't intended to put her through an ordeal, but the feeling persisted nonetheless. "I'm sorry."

"No. I am."

"Don't be. At least we stayed friends, and I finally understand I shouldn't take your revulsion personally. As for the rest, I can get that in any festhall." He faltered. "I didn't mean that the way it may have sounded."

She laughed. He couldn't remember the last time she'd done that, and it was strange to hear it sounding from the darkness of their prison, especially considering the torments she'd just revealed. "Now I know why you generally avoid saying how you truly feel. You're terrible at it."

A retort sprang to mind. But before he could voice it, a cold hand gripped his shoulder.

The apartments of Clan Daardendrien were high up the south wall of the pyramid, which meant Khouryn and his fellow sellswords had a long climb up stairs and ramps to get there. But the supper of roast pheasant was worth it. So was the tart white wine.

Afterward, pleasantly replete and a little tipsy, with full goblets in hand and a fresh bottle awaiting their pleasure, he, Medrash, and Balasar lounged on the balcony overlooking the atrium. The magical illumination had dimmed to match the night outside. Across the empty space, the lamps in other dragonborn homes glowed like stars. Somewhere, a lutenist plucked out an air in a minor key.

Balasar sipped from his cup. "Do you like the view?"

"Yes," Khouryn said. "Now that the light's faded, this feels very much like certain portions of East Rift."

Speaking the name of his home brought a pang of melancholy.

Evidently Medrash sensed it. "There must be some way to get you there," he said.