Western Shore

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

As soon as Kheda stepped up onto the far bank, he had his sword and hacking blade ready.

What horrors are lurking on this side of the river?

'Where are we going?' Risala scrambled up to stand close beside him.

Kheda saw that all the savages were looking at Naldeth, who was negotiating the awkward climb up the crumbling bank. 'It looks as if we're all waiting on your convenience, Master Mage.'

'All right,' the wizard said uncertainly.

'Just start walking,' Kheda said curtly. 'Let's hope they show you where to go.'

To his relief, he was proved right. As Naldeth took a few hesitant steps, three eager savages who weren't burdened with fish or fowl flesh hurried ahead, half-turning to draw the wizard onward with beckoning hands and anxiously ingratiating smiles.

Kheda saw they were following the path he had cut through the vicious grasses the night before.

Was it only last night? It seems like an age ago.

He glanced at Risala and saw her face tight with tension. 'I think it'll be all right,' he said softly.

'Do you?' She stared at him. 'I'd feel better if we'd seen some sign that suggested as much.'

'I think we can trust the way these people are behaving towards us,' Kheda retorted.

I'll trust that and my own instincts before I rely on

some omen of the sky or earthly compass. Can't you accept that?

Risala didn't answer. As Kheda walked on, he concentrated on scouring the clumps of grass for any sign of danger. Clouds of tiny black flies were drawn to the fish and bird meat but nothing bigger had shown itself by the time they reached the steep barren slope leading up to the plateau where the bulbous barrel-like trees stood.

The fissures Naldeth and Velindre had opened up in the ground still gaped, the sandy earth deep within still dark where the dew's dampness lurked beyond the increasing strength of the sun. Several of the trees leaned drunkenly askew, their roots flailing impotently in the empty air. One had toppled over completely, an ugly gash in the sustaining earth cutting its feet from under it. Those mighty trees that had burned had been reduced to ragged black shells, the soil all around them grey and lifeless.

Naldeth clicked his tongue in exasperation and waved a hand at the ruined expanse. Sand began flowing like water to fill up the crevices. The wild men picking their way cautiously across the broken ground halted, their murmurs half-appreciative, half-apprehensive. Naldeth turned his attention to the fallen tree. Its exposed roots writhed and the stunted branches thrashed as it strove to stand upright again. Those savages closest to it sprang away with cries of alarm. The rest halted, some kneeling and others cringing as they all turned to the mage.

'Leave it.' Velindre gave Naldeth a discreet shove in the small of his back. 'Save your strength.'

Naldeth sighed and let the tree crash back to the ground. The savages hurried onwards with visible relief. Once they had left the barren expanse of the mighty barrel trees, they found themselves toiling up an apparently endless shallow slope dotted with thistly plants and the

strange scaly fingers of thorny green spikes. The sun was beating down strongly now and Kheda was sweating.

Where are we going to find water in this desert, so far from the river?

As he slowed to mop his brow, savages hurried past him. The foremost began shouting and Kheda saw movement ahead. A gap opened up in the indistinct green as men and women appeared, using sticks and spears to drag aside a woven barrier of thorns and spines.

Kheda took a moment to look around. Behind the tangle of vegetation, the land rose bare and brown, the earth washed away to leave scars of broken rock. Looking inland, he saw that this whole expanse of higher land fell away sharply into deep gullies choked with twisted nut trees and tangled thistly plants. On the seaward side, as best he could judge, the spiny forest sprawled all the way to the cliffs.

So these people at least have the wits to claim land with natural defences on two sides and reasonably open scrub on the other two.

'What do I do now?' Naldeth hovered at Kheda's elbow.

'You look calm and in control.' He pushed the younger man forward. 'And we'll be following you, looking equally confident. Just remember how hounds can rip the throat out of a foe who cowers too low.'

Risala was stony-faced. Velindre still looked drained, though her eyes were brightening with anticipation and a hint of discreet menace. Kheda looked to the old woman, who was still dogging his footsteps, in case her expression might give him some clue as to what to expect. Unfortunately her expression was as impenetrable as Risala's.

Naldeth walked slowly through the rough opening in the spiky barricade. Yellow-green sprawls of the fleshy spiny plants grew along the inside. The wild men separated to

pick their way through this low maze. Those who had appeared to greet them waited, spears ready.

As Risala and Velindre fell into step behind him, Kheda used his hacking blade to knock away the more threatening of the fat spiny leaves. A murmur of awe made him look up. Those who had not seen his steel before were gaping at it. Kheda paused and swung at one of the taller paddle-shaped leaves. It fell to the ground with a soggy thud, cleanly sliced in two. He looked around, his face impassive as he held the gaze of any who caught his eye.

Do you understand this? That if you attack me, you '11 be cut down?

As the wild men and women within the barrier stood still, suitably cowed, a small child naked but for a string of crude beads knotted around his hips ran forward. Squatting down, he thrust a stick deep into the pulpy interior of the severed leaf and lifted it up, wary of the spines. Licking at the juice trickling down to paint dark shining lines on his dusty forearms, he hurried away with his prize.

Naldeth chuckled. 'I don't think he's in awe of you, my lord of Chazen.'

'I don't suppose that matters.' Kheda was satisfied that all the adults' attention was still fixed on his blade as they walked on, leaving the thorny barrier and the sprawling plants behind.

'Do you suppose this is what they call home?' Velindre wondered wryly.

There was something approximating a village in the midst of the area encircled by the tangled barricade. Low huts spread in an irregular fashion around a trampled expanse of bare earth with a fire pit dug in the centre. The walls of the crude dwellings seemed to have been made from lattices of the nut trees' gnarled branches. As best Kheda could tell, a layer of the razor-edged grass had then

been threaded in among the twigs before a haphazard coating of muddy clods was slapped on top. Some had roofs made in the same fashion; others were merely enclosures with an awning of animal hide stretched over one corner.

'Do you suppose that's where the mage lived?' Naldeth looked askance at the largest building in the makeshift village. Where the other huts were irregular in height and shape, this was a precise circle. The wall was made from stakes cut from the twisted trees and planted with care to minimise the inevitable gaps between each one. The roof was considerably more substantial, thickly thatched with grasses and resting on sturdy timbers that must have been hewn from taller, straighter trees akin to the ones in the dry valley back on the other side of the river.

'They didn't run away.' Risala pointed at the two women lurking in the substantial hut's open doorway. 'What do you suppose they are going to do?'

Kheda could see no clue in their expressions beneath their coronets of plumes, gold and scarlet and orange. Closer to, he saw that their hair was caked solid with some shining red substance, vivid among the ebony heads of the rest of the savages.

'What am I supposed to do with them?' Naldeth asked uncertainly.

'For a start, make quite sure they know your magic outstrips theirs,' Kheda said firmly.

Can we keep them in check until both our wizards are fully restored? Or will I just have to kill them out of hand to be sure we're all safe?

As distaste at the prospect of carrying out such dubious executions knotted the warlord's stomach, the men and women of the ramshackle village clustered around those who had returned laden with the unexpected bounty of fresh fish and meat. They were loud with their exclamations of astonishment and pleasure.

No one seems overly concerned about the loss of their skull-faced mage.

Keeping half an eye on the waiting women, Kheda watched as children, as brown and naked as the first, ran to cut more of the thick yellowy-green leaves from the fleshy plants. They had crude knives of black stone hanging on thongs knotted around their necks. Women in sagging wraps of thin hide knelt to strip the fish from the sticks they had been carried on, gutting them efficiently with more slivers of stone. As the children brought the spiny leaves, the women slit them open and packed them with fish and whatever worms or eels or crustaceans had been dug from the river bed. Older boys hurried to bring twisted branches from stockpiles between the huts while two grey-haired warriors set about rousing the slumbering fire to a new blaze. The slabs of fowl flesh and the long scaly legs were simply propped over the flames still skewered on the spears while the women laid the stuffed spiny leaves in the embers around the edge.

'Do I just stand here?' Naldeth hissed.

'They're coming over.' Risala hadn't taken her eyes off the feather-crowned women, who were indeed reluctantly leaving the shelter of their hut.

'Go and meet them.' Kheda coughed as a shifting breeze hit him with the stench of something revolting singeing in the fire. 'Show them you're in charge.'

'I'll be right behind you,' promised Velindre quietly.

'Can you work any magic without falling over?' Naldeth coughed and strode past the communal fire. All anxious smiles, the savages bowed low as he passed them. The feather-crowned women halted to wait a few paces from their door.

Kheda realised that it was beeswax mixed with red ochre caking their hair to hold their gaudy feathers in

place. As dark-skinned as the rest of the islanders, the women both wore wraps of thin hide tied just above their breasts and reaching to the tops of their thighs. Unlike the other women, their garb was decorated with swirling patterns of beads sewn to the leather, made from polished fragments of red shell and pale-yellow bone.

A wariness in their eyes suggested they had lived hard and dangerous lives and expected nothing else. Kheda watched them closely for any more immediate clue as to what they might do but their faces were unreadable. Unable to distinguish between them, he noted that one woman boasted a necklace of strange three-lobed teeth while the other had wristlets of dark scales threaded on plaited grass. Both were young enough that their limbs were still firm and smooth and they had an air of good health.

So you 've long been used to better feeding than the majority of these impoverished wretches. I can't see how you could be carrying any weapons under those scanty wraps. Why would you need to, if you can kill with your magic?

'Can you tell if they're about to use some spell?' He slid a sideways glance at Velindre and was reassured to see the magewoman regarding the two wild women with open suspicion.

'It all depends how they've been taught to use their affinity,' mused Velindre.

Kheda drew himself up to his full height. The feather-crowned women spared him brief glances which he met with the most intimidating stare he had cultivated through all his long years as a warlord. He angled his hacking blade and his sword with slow deliberation, the polished steel still visible amid streaks of the great birds' blood and catching the sun. Every other savage stared awestruck at this mystery, though the women remained impassive. Kheda stood poised, blades just at rest as if he were waiting

to meet a challenge on the Chazen warriors' practice ground.

Like Telouet testing slaves brought for my consideration. I'm even walking two paces behind and one pace to their new master's open side.

The feather-crowned women slowly turned all their attention to Naldeth. The one with the necklace of teeth was just a little quicker than the one with the scaled wristbands in sinking to her knees, head bowed submissively. As she followed her companion's lead, the one with the scaled wristlets glanced upwards through her eyelashes while keeping her face turned dutifully to the ground.

'Get them up. No, don't offer your hand.' Kheda rebuked Naldeth swiftly as the mage reached out. 'Make it an order.'

After a breath of hesitation, Naldeth snapped his fingers, red fire blinking between his finger and thumb. Both women froze, looking up at him. Their expressions were still masks of indifference but Kheda saw a spark of anger come and go in the eyes of the one with the necklace. The one with the wristlets betrayed nothing.

Naldeth coughed and bade them rise with a sweeping gesture. They rose with fluid grace and turned to walk back into the high-roofed circular hut. Neither looked back to see if they were being followed. Naldeth hesitated again.

'On you go, Master Mage,' Kheda prompted. He stepped up behind the wizard and with Risala and Velindre following close behind, Naldeth had no choice but to go forward.

There was more light inside the gloomy hut than the warlord had expected and the gaps between the stakes making up the walls freely admitted the passing breezes, avoiding any stuffiness. The shade was welcome after the heat of the sun outside.

'How do they cut rafters like that without steel?' Risala looked up, wondering.

'Magic?' Kheda hazarded.

'Not as far as I can tell.' Velindre was looking around the hut with growing interest.

The four thick pillars that held up the roof's framework marked out a wide square. Crude panels of woven stick and grass set between pairs of pillars defined three sleeping areas where hides-were piled on heaps of dried grass. A few meagre possessions were tucked into the corners between the rough screens: little gourds, leafy twigs presumably selected for some virtue or other, and unidentifiable lumps wrapped in scraps of animal skin. In the space between these crude concessions to privacy, the earthen floor of the hut was scored with interlaced patterns. Some were mere scrapes of colour, faded and scuffed. Others were intense with fresh charcoal lines cutting through older symbols.

'Kheda,' Naldeth said in strangled tones, 'what—'

The warlord looked up from the patterns on the floor to see that the woman with the wristbands had untied her wrap. Tossing the thin hide aside, she stood naked before the young mage, still wearing that same impassive expression. When he made no move towards her, she went over to one of the sleeping spaces. Sitting on the hides, she found a small gourd in a corner and, pulling out a plug of leaves, poured a little oil into one hand. Still expressionless, she looked up at Naldeth, rubbing oil over her bared breasts and belly until her skin gleamed.

'I'd say she's accepted she's yours to. . . command.' Velindre didn't sound overly amused.

'I'm not about to—' Naldeth bit off his heated words as movement outside the hut caught his eye.

'That's probably wise.' Kheda saw there were plenty of curious savages pressing as close as they dared to see

what was going on within the inadequately opaque walls of the hut. 'Not until we know what she - and they -might make of that.'

'Not now and not at all!' Naldeth took a step forward, stretching out his hand to the naked woman. She misunderstood him and lay back on the hides, drawing up her feet. 'No, get up, get dressed,' he said hurriedly. She didn't obey, simply spreading her thighs wider. Scowling, Naldeth caught up her hide wrap from the ground and threw it at her. 'No!'

Even in the dimness of the hut, Kheda could see the young mage's furious blush rising beneath his tan. A murmur spread through the crowd outside, with undertones Kheda couldn't quite identify beneath the wide-ranging surprise. The woman scrambled to her feet clutching her beaded wrap. She hurried out of the hut, retying the hide with jerky movements that spoke of shame and anger, her pace quickening.

The second woman with the strange toothed necklace gave a slight shrug, her face as expressionless as ever, and reached for the knot securing her own rudimentary garment.

'No!' Naldeth swept his hands across in a cutting gesture. 'I won't have this. Kheda, make them understand!'

'How?' Kheda tried to keep his voice calm and reasonable.

'I don't know!' Naldeth wheeled around and strode angrily out of the hut. The crowd outside hastily withdrew as the mage emerged into the sunlight.

As he did so, some scuffle broke out over by the central hearth. Kheda shaded his eyes with his off hand and realised that the first feather-crowned woman whom Naldeth had rejected was on her hands and knees. A wild warrior struck her hard a second time, smashing a thick stone-studded club down onto her spine. She fell flat with

a cry of pain and fear. No one else moved. The man with the club swung the heavy weapon at her head, using both hands and putting all his strength behind the blow. The club connected with the woman's skull with a sound like a melon dropped onto a marble floor. She lay with her face in the dirt, her arms and legs jerking. After a few moments, she was still.

'I thought you said only mages killed mages!' Horrified, Naldeth flung the reproof back at the other three as he hurried towards the dead woman.

The wild man waited, a gap-toothed smile broad on his dark face, the club in his hand smeared with blood.

'That's what I thought.' Kheda saw tufts of the woman's red wax-coated hair caught on the vicious stone shards studding the club.

'Can you do anything for her?' the mage asked desperately.

'I doubt it.' As they drew closer to the corpse, Kheda saw blood sluggishly oozing from her nose and ears. Her eyes were open but unseeing and her skull was grotesquely misshapen. As they stood over her, he could see pale-grey matter exposed among the crushed ruins of her crown of feathers. 'No. She's dead.'

'Why did he do that?' Naldeth raged, turning on the wild man with the club.

The savage's smile faltered and he took an uncertain pace backwards as Kheda raised his sword. 'Do you want me to kill him? Think carefully about that. A death can't be undone.'

'Kill him for doing what?' Risala interjected. 'Murdering her? Or quite properly executing her? We know nothing of their customs, Kheda. Kill him and we could all end up dead.'

'Not while I have breath in my body,' Velindre promised dourly. 'But we can't kill him without knowing why

he did this,' she agreed reluctantly. 'He might have been taking some wholly justified revenge on this woman, now that she hasn't got that skull-faced mage to shield her abuses.'

'I'm less concerned with his fate than I am about ours.' Kheda looked around at the throng of savages, now silent and motionless. 'Naldeth, do you want him dead, to show you're the wizard in charge here?'

As the young mage struggled for an answer, a scream back by the dead mage's hut made everyone jump. Kheda turned to see the second feather-crowned woman backing away from two men who were stealthily menacing her with spears.

'I won't have this,' Naldeth said wrathfully. A ring of crimson fire sprang up around the woman, protecting her from her attackers. One of them tried to stab at her through the brilliant flames. His spear flared and burned instantly to a charred stick that crumbled in his startled hands.

Kheda saw plenty of awe in the other savages' expressions and not a little fear. All the same, confusion was winning out on rather too many faces, and here and there the warlord saw unguarded annoyance. Kheda searched out the old woman and saw her narrow her eyes at him with impatience, before switching her exasperated gaze meaningfully to Naldeth.

He's not behaving as a newly triumphant wizard should. Because we don't know what a newly triumphant wizard should do. Regardless, that could put us all in danger.

'I won't kill her,' Naldeth insisted. 'I'm not her enemy.'

'You may not be her enemy,' Risala countered, 'but you're wagering all our lives on the hope she doesn't want to kill you to regain her status among her people.'

'Get rid of her, Naldeth,' Kheda said, calm and unhurried. 'However you want to do it, just get rid of her. She's trouble we don't need at present.'

Naldeth stared down at the ground for a moment. Looking up, he raised a hand and drew the circle of fire containing the feather-crowned woman towards him. She resisted until the unnatural red flames licked at her. At first the fire didn't seem to burn her and she stayed stubbornly still. Naldeth let a slow breath of exasperation hiss between his teeth and the flames burned gold for a moment. With a cry of pain, the woman yielded and the scarlet prison forced her across the encampment.

Some of the other savages jeered at her, nonetheless staying a discreet distance away. The feather-crowned woman walked as slowly as she could, face downcast yet looking this way and that. She stretched out a hand towards the flames, her fingers outspread. The fire flickered gold once again and she snatched back her hand with a frustrated cry. The mockery of the crowd grew louder as the bright red of elemental fire reasserted itself.

'What are you going to do?' Risala couldn't hide her growing unease.

'I'll get her out of this village,' Naldeth said grimly. 'Then she can take her chances.'

Kheda watched as the wizard steered his now apparently acquiescent captive towards the woven thorn barrier. 'You don't think she'll come back in the night to slit your throat?'

'Then at least I'll have some reason to fight her,' spat Naldeth, 'instead of murdering her in cold blood. Now open that sorry excuse for a gate!' he shouted, waving an authoritative hand at the bemused wild men. Three understood his meaning and immediately ran to do his bidding.

As her magical prison halted, the woman made another attempt to touch the scarlet flames. Naldeth narrowed his eyes and the fire surged higher and brighter. At the same

time, the circle shrank and the woman cowered within its reduced confines. As soon as the busy savages had ripped an adequate gap in the thorny barrier, Naldeth set the fiery circle moving once more. Now the woman began struggling, shouting what could only be threats and forcing her hands against the flames, which burned white where she touched them.

'Just run, you stupid bitch, and good luck to you,' Naldeth muttered, frustrated, as he drove the circle of fire out onto the slope dotted with thistly plants and thorny spikes. He snapped his fingers and the fire extinguished itself.

'If she's stupid enough to try fighting you, at least make sure she dies a quick and painless death,' Velindre choked out with reluctance.

The woman stood, panting, blistered hands hanging by her sides. Sweat soaked her hide wrap, leaving it clinging to her body. The wax in her hair had melted and her feathers were all hanging askew. Trickles of red ochre ran down one side of her face and dripped on her bared shoulder. She stared back at Naldeth, utterly confused.

All around, wild warriors raised whoops and cheers that chilled Kheda's blood. Snatching up clubs and spears, they ran towards the gap in the thorny barrier. The boldest favoured Naldeth with enthusiastic, appreciative grins, the rest doing their best to at least bob a bow as they ran. The feather-crowned woman took to her heels, fleeing for her life.

'They're going to hunt her?' Appalled, Naldeth raised his hand.

'There's nothing you can do.' Kheda grabbed the wizard's wrist and forced his arm back down again. 'You wanted her gone. Let her take her chances.'

'Because that's her destiny?' spat Naldeth. 'You saw it in the stars?'

'Because there's nothing you can do to save her.' Kheda ruthlessly set aside his pity for the young wizard and the doomed wild woman alike. 'Not without putting the rest of us in danger.'

'She's heading for the hills.' Risala watched the woman skirting the thorny stockade.

'They'll catch her.' Velindre pointed to a group of wild men using their spears to rip a new hole in the barrier to take the most direct path after their fleeing quarry.

The feather-crowned woman was running as fast she could now, not looking back, heading for one of the thistle-choked gullies cutting into the slope on the landward side of this stretch of higher ground. Kheda watched, a sick feeling gathering in his stomach.

Movement caught his eye. A deep shadow in another of the rock-strewn gullies shifted. Murky shapes melted, the lines of the random tumble of broken stone blurring and redrawing themselves into an ominously familiar shape. Darkness took on form and substance and the sun glittered on a deadly sheen of spines and scales. The earth dragon coalesced out of gloom and dust into implacable black solidity.

The woman saw it and veered away, her terror-filled screams tearing the dry air. The wild men who'd been so keen to pursue her fell over each other in their haste to retreat, running headlong back to the spurious safety of the thorny palisade. Ignoring them, the dragon loped after the fleeing woman. It ran low to the ground like a lizard, feet set wide, with its broad, blunt head thrust forward and thick tail lashing behind.

She was running away down the long, shallow slope now, her arms flailing wildly as she tried to keep her balance. The dragon sprang forward with a flash of silver beneath its folded wings. It didn't quite reach her, but as its forefeet landed the earth shivered like a living

thing. An impossible ripple reared up through the solid ground to fling the woman off her feet. The dragon took a quick step as she tried to get up and skewered her with a swift downward thrust of its metallic grey talons. Ducking its head, it bit, cutting short her scream of agony.

'Kheda, look.' Swallowing her revulsion, Risala pointed.

The woman's would-be hunters were tearing at their matted heads as they ran back, some even hacking at their mud-caked locks with stone knives pulled from their loincloths. They tossed unidentifiable lumps back over their shoulders as they fled.

'What are they doing?' As Kheda spoke he realised every man, woman and child still within the thorn barrier was drawing closer and closer to Naldeth.

Because the only thing that can protect you from a dragon is a wizard. So you indulge his whims and his brutality and his women's arrogance. Until someone strong enough to defeat him turns up out of the blue ocean.

The first of the men flung themselves through the gap in the spiny circle. Sweat was running down faces and bare chests, mingled here and there with blood. Hands and faces were bleeding freely where the razor-edged stone daggers had slipped.

'It's gems,' Velindre said suddenly. 'That's what they had hidden in their hair, stuck in all the mud and wax.'

Kheda saw she was right. Several of the erstwhile hunters still clutched rough stones that sparkled with the promise of an unpolished gem beneath the muck.

To throw to a dragon in hopes that the beast might just slow down to lick up a jewel and give them a chance of getting away. Which is pretty much what we did in Chazen, leaving caskets of jewels on the beaches to draw that fire dragon away from the inhabited islands.

'What do we do now?' Naldeth asked slowly.

The menacing black beast turned in a leisurely circle, deadly tail-spike dragging to carve a sweeping trough in the dust. Lifting its head, it looked towards the spread of flimsy huts within the pitiful thorny barricade. Eyes of burning amber unblinking, it advanced towards them. Every few paces it halted, sniffing in the dust before licking something up with its forked ebony tongue.

Accepting the savages' offerings. But I don't think that's going to persuade it to leave us alone.

'Can you call up another dragon to lure it away?' Risala didn't look at Velindre, all her attention fixed on the advancing dragon.

'I don't think this beast will fall for a trick like that,' the magewoman began.

'Then what are you going to do?' Kheda gripped his sword impotently. 'Naldeth?'

'I think—' The young wizard broke off with a choking sound.

The dragon stopped and reared back on its haunches, spreading its wings just a little. The smaller scales in the folds of its belly skin were the exact shade of the steel of Kheda's sword. It opened its mouth and growled low. Kheda didn't so much hear the sound as feel it vibrating through the ground beneath his feet, up through the leather soles of his sandals. It shook his bones, reverberating ominously inside the hollow drum of his chest. He rapidly felt light-headed and increasingly nauseous.

'Naldeth!' snapped Velindre. 'Fight it!'

With painful effort, Kheda forced his head around to look at the young mage.

Naldeth's soft brown eyes glittered like white crystal, all their colour drained away. His tanned skin shone with the implacable translucence of chalcedony, while his dirty white cotton clothes had taken on the rigidity of flow-stone. Only the metal of his false leg was moving. The

painstakingly fashioned steel flowed like quicksilver, rivets and folded seams melting away. The ungainly facsimile reshaped itself into a flawless limb, albeit one of living metal. The powerful muscles of a thigh formed above a sturdy knee where bone and tendons shone with amber magic beneath the silver flesh. Shin and calf emerged regular and straight and the liquid steel shaped itself around golden bones to make a strong high-arched foot, each separate toe tipped with a neatly trimmed nail that shone like quartz.

We 're dead. We 're all dead, except perhaps Naldeth, and he soon will be. Or he'11 wish he was, if he suffers Dev 's fate.

Kheda found he couldn't turn his head any more, not even to look back at the dragon. He could feel it approaching all the same, its every step sending tremors through the earth. Naldeth groaned like a man in torment and Kheda saw a faint red glint kindle in his crystalline eyes. Warmth wrapped itself around the warlord, not the sun's warmth but a harsh, punishing heat like the blast from an open furnace. Just when the heat was becoming too painful to bear, scorching his unprotected hands and face, Kheda found he could move again, albeit with every muscle screaming in protest.

How does that help me? Other than by letting me see my death coming?

He twisted his head to look for the dragon and saw it had halted on the far side of the thorny barrier. It crouched, cavernous mouth wide open, black tongue running around its grey metallic teeth. Golden fire burned in its amber eyes and the ebony ruff of spines around the back of its head bristled. Muscles rippled beneath its jet-black scales as it extended its steely talons, ripping gouges in the sandy ground. Dust rose from the holes the dragon's claws were making. Dust and then steam. The holes widened and belched hot metallic vapour. The dragon looked down

and sniffed. It retreated a few paces, lowering its head to growl menacingly.

Kheda's head throbbed unbearably. The oppressive heat wrapped still tighter around him and every breath he took threatened to sear his lungs.

As the dragon's tongue flickered at the ground, sand and soil flowed into the gashes. Only as soon as one was filled, a new fissure opened up with a whiff of sulphur and a soft crack reverberating deep under the ground. The dragon growled more angrily and slapped at an importunate cleft with a murderous forefoot. The ground gaped to swallow its foreleg and the beast recoiled with a deafening roar. It would have taken a pace forward but a fissure split the earth just where its foot would have landed. Red fire from some unimaginable depth reflected off the polished black scales of the beast's chest. The dragon reared up to rattle its black and silver wings furiously.

The ground shook and the dry sandy soil fractured all around the beast. Thistly plants and spiny fingers toppled into crevices opening wider and wider. Unseen in the depths, the plants burst into flames, adding a homely note of wood ash to the rising smell of sulphur. The dragon retreated, head swinging from side to side, its ceaseless growl now ringing with wrath.

The crevices grew wider still and molten rock bubbled up to spill out over the barren ground. The trickles flowed faster down the slope, running together, merging into one swelling line of glutinous fire. The dragon walked slowly backwards, looking from one implacable stream to another. Each crawling line of burning red was curving slightly, not to follow the lie of the land but to take the most direct path to the black beast. It halted and crouched low, opening its mouth and growling so low that Kheda could barely hear it. The trickles of

molten rock slowed and dulled and the murderous heat all around died away.

Intense cold replaced it as the air above them filled with twisting whiteness.

What are all these feathers?

As Kheda's bruised wits went begging for any explanation, the soft whiteness drifted down. It wasn't a cloud but something carried on the breeze. It wasn't feathers, nor, as he next guessed, ashes. As the flakes of this mysterious stuff landed on his skin, they instantly melted. He shivered violently, gooseflesh rising all over his body. Kheda found he could move freely now. The stuff was falling thicker now, blinding him. He wiped it away from his eyes, finding it turn to water at his touch. Where the stuff was falling into the crevices and onto the motionless trails of solidifying rock, it turned to steam.

Where's that accursed dragon?

The black shape was still visible among the storm of white and wreaths of vapour. It snapped at the swirling mystery, brutal head twisting this way and that. Abruptly it sprang into the air. The furious downdraught from its wings drove the whiteness into Kheda's face where it stung like wind-flung sand. The dragon roared, sending furious eddies spiralling through the clouds of steam. It soared away, its shadowy shape soon lost in the milkiness.

Kheda ached with cold, his teeth chattering. 'Risala?'

'I'm here.' As the wind died and the whiteness began falling precipitately to the ground, Kheda wrapped her in his arms. He could feel her shivering violently through her sodden, freezing clothes.

Velindre appeared as the blue sky cleared overhead. 'Where's Naldeth?'

'Over there.' Kheda couldn't resist a shudder as he looked over Risala's damp head.

The young mage was flesh and blood once again, his

metal leg the same blacksmith's contrivance it had always been.

'Snow?' The wizard turned a ghastly gaze on Velindre. The tiny veins in both his eyes had ruptured, bleeding vivid red to utterly obliterate the whites.

'I didn't dare commit myself to anything more.' She shrugged. 'I just hoped any beast who'd spent its life hereabouts wouldn't have seen it.'

'Snow,' Kheda marvelled. 'I've read about it—'

'These people haven't.' Risala twisted in his embrace to watch the wild men and women staring astonished at the piles of white now melting rapidly as the fierce sun reasserted itself. Several matronly women ran to fetch hollow gourds as they realised this unknown stuff was turning to precious water that was just being wasted.

'How did the dragon take you unawares like that?' she snapped at Naldeth with sudden anger.

'What did it want?' Kheda asked in a more moderate tone. 'Before the snow came—'

'It's a stealthy beast, and I was concentrating on saving that woman—' The wizard stopped, closing his eyes momentarily to veil their bloodshot eeriness. 'It didn't want to kill me,' he continued painfully after a long moment. 'It wanted me to feed it. It would have been quite content to leave me here corralling these people and offering up whomever I chose when it felt hungry.' His face twisted with emotion. 'Now leave me alone. I want some peace and quiet.'

His voice rose perilously and he stumped away across the snow-covered ground. Stopping by the sodden corpse of the first feather-crowned woman, he made an angry gesture and scarlet flames leapt from the body. Flesh and bones were consumed with incredible swiftness, the snow all around shrinking away. The savages watched him disappear into the dead wizard's hut. Most were still

looking stunned, fearful respect blended with awe in their faces.

'He's worked more magic today than he'd have done in a whole circle of the compass back in Hadrumal,' Velindre said slowly. 'He needs to rest, and to eat and drink, before he exhausts himself and collapses.'

Risala pulled herself free of Kheda's arms. 'I'll see if I can persuade him.' She went over to the communal hearth where various women were looking askance at the comprehensively quenched fire. Risala clapped her hands together and pointed authoritatively at the fat fleshy leaves. A woman immediately hooked a couple out of the wet ashes and offered them up. Nodding curt thanks, Risala went on her way.

Looking around, Kheda saw that nearly all the whiteness had vanished. He shivered. The sun was beating down as hot as ever before but some chill seemed to have got into the very marrow of his bones. He stripped off his sodden and clammy tunic. 'Are you recovered enough to drive off that black dragon if it comes back?'

'I very much doubt it,' Velindre said dryly. 'Still, let's have something to eat, before all the food goes.' The wild men and women were all delving in the wet ashes and salvaging whatever they could. The magewoman walked towards the dampened fire pit and an anxious girl hastily proffered a fat spiny leaf, wizened by the fire.

'Will it come back?' Kheda waved away an offer of inadequately cooked fowl flesh and took a stuffed spiny leaf instead.

'Eventually,' the magewoman said thoughtfully. 'We gave it plenty to think about. And it gave Naldeth plenty to think about.'

'What happened to him?' Kheda struggled with the memory of what he had seen.

'I don't know.' Velindre walked over to an empty space

and sat cross-legged on the ground. 'He'll tell us when he's ready.' She drew her belt knife and slit open the spiny leaf. 'Oh.' Her prize proved to be filled with noisome coils of some worm or eel.

'You must have some idea.' Thanks to blind chance, the leaf Kheda opened contained fish, and he used his dagger to skewer a lump. It tasted sweeter than he had expected.

'You have to understand that a wizard must learn to live within the boundaries of his or her elemental affinity.' Velindre gingerly raised a twisted grey coil to her mouth, chewed and swallowed. 'Those wizards who cannot, who become totally enthralled with their element, lose all sense and caution as they go further and further, searching for the limits of their power.' She scowled. 'Only there aren't any limits. Those mages trying to find them either go utterly mad in the process and destroy themselves, or are destroyed by the Council and Archmages of Hadrumal.'

'What has this to do with dragons?' Kheda shook his head, confused.

'A dragon's power is utterly intoxicating.' Velindre closed her eyes, torn between longing and abhorrence. 'It offers a wizard the possibility of going beyond every constraint of elemental affinity that they have learned to live with, without penalty, without fear, to learn secrets undreamt of by countless generations of mages.'

'Do you think Naldeth can resist such temptation?' Kheda asked bluntly.

Velindre opened her eyes and scraped the rank contents from the inside of her leaf with her knife blade. 'Don't you think I could have found a competent mage with two flesh-and-blood feet to bring on this voyage?' She tasted the leaf pulp cautiously.

Kheda ate some more of his fish. 'What do you mean?'

'I've already told you. The puzzles of this place are not about magic, they're about power.' Velindre continued

eating. 'Naldeth, of all the mages I know, understands only too well what it's like to be utterly at the mercy of someone who is more than happy to abuse all the power within his reach.'

'You mean this pirate who cost him his leg?' Kheda prodded at the yellowish-grey pulp underneath his own fish.

'Exactly.' Velindre scraped down to the leathery outer skin of the leaf. 'He wouldn't take that dragon's power, not if the price was abusing these people for the beast's convenience. He didn't only lose his leg when those pirates captured him. He saw a wholly innocent friend clubbed to death.' Her gaze strayed towards the scorched black earth where no trace of the feather-crowned woman now remained.

'You thought other mages you might have brought on this voyage would have succumbed.' Kheda spoke his thoughts aloud without thinking. 'Dev would certainly have been looking for his own best advantage in such a situation.'

'Perhaps. Dev could be quite vile when the mood took him. Mages are just men and women like every Archipelagan or barbarian.' Velindre fixed him with a cold glare. 'Good-hearted or weak-willed and everything in between. Would every Aldabreshi you know behave with impeccable restraint and decorum if they were suddenly raised to a warlord's rank and privilege?'

'It's hardly the same.' Kheda wasn't about to be deterred from his questions. 'Do these wild mages command these dragons or do the dragons command the mages?'

'I don't think it's that simple,' Velindre said slowly. 'Or that complex, if you prefer. The dragons were drawn here by the confluences of elemental power. That's the key to this place, Kheda. Once the dragons arrived, they found easy prey in these people.' She gazed around at

the savages in their crude garb with their mud-caked hair. 'Only with all the raw elemental power hereabouts, amplified through a dragon's aura, any mageborn among these savages would have found the magic to fight back out of sheer instinct. Using magic isn't the difficult part of being mageborn, it's controlling the magic before it kills you or you cause some catastrophe. That's why Hadrumal was founded, to save mageborn from themselves and from mobs who would stone them to death to be rid of them.'

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 'But as we've seen, these dragons here don't necessarily want to fight each other to the death, despite what Azazir told me about the dragons of legend up in the mountains of the northern mainland. And however it happened, I think these dragons are content not to fight the mageborn either, as long as the mageborn don't stop them eating the lesser folk. Dragons aren't stupid, Kheda. Once one had learned how to live an easy life with easy prey, the rest would soon have copied it.'

'Like a jungle cat preying on villagers who can't run as far and as fast as deer,' the warlord said slowly. 'Where there's one man-eater, others will follow, not least because the mother will teach her kits the same tricks.'

Which is why a warlord will hunt down every spotted cat on an isle once one has turned man-eater. He'1l skin the carcasses and nail the hides on the gates of his residence. Which is, as it happens, what we also customarily do with wizards.

Velindre was staring up into the cloudless sky, unblinking. 'That dragon I made from the air, the one that seized its chance for life by killing the sky dragon, it had no thought of preying on these people. All it wanted to do was fly after the most enticing coils of wind and weather. That sea dragon that we saw had no notion of coming ashore, not with plenty of fish in the sea for it to chase

and eat. The dragons who prey on these people only do it because that's doubtless what they've learned from those who've gone before them. They're not responsible for the choices these wild mageborn have made, whether that be just saving themselves and their allies by offering up captives and slain enemies, or the evil of deliberately feeding anyone useless or burdensome to a dragon.' She forestalled any comment Kheda might have made. 'And that choice didn't arise from any inherent evil in the magic of this place either.'

'If mageborn have all this power, why do these people live like this?' Kheda glowered as he surveyed the dirty, inadequately clad savages. 'Even the poorest islands in the most despoiled domains in the Archipelago live better.'

Velindre raised her brows at him. 'If you had Naldeth's abilities to shape the earth, just for a little while, could you make me a model of a Soluran keep and curtain wall?'

'I don't know what one of those might be.' As Kheda frowned, he realised he had fallen into her trap.

'Do you think these people know any better way to live? Magecraft is a tool.' Velindre waved her smeary blade to and fro at Kheda. 'Of itself, it's no more good or evil than this dagger, which can cut my food or cut your throat. What you do with magic depends on what you know and what you're taught.'

'Perhaps.' Kheda looked around the feeble excuse for a village. 'But as far as I can see, it's still these dragons and the rule of these wizards that keeps these people wretched.'

'If you can suggest any way to improve their lot, I'll be interested to hear it.' Velindre rose to her feet and went over to the cook pit again.

Kheda contemplated the spiny leaf in his hands and realised with some surprise that he had eaten nearly all the fish. He still had no appetite for the greyish-yellow

pulp. Seeing a small child hovering hopefully, he smiled encouragingly and held out the soggy remnants to her.

The little girl approached, hesitantly at first, then snatched the fat, fleshy leaf from Kheda and immediately buried her face in it.

She eats like an animal. Is that because she is no more than an animal? These people don't farm any crops. They hunt, but matias hunt together, to take on snakes too big for one to tackle alone. Loals use sticks or stones to smash stubborn nuts and they fight among themselves in bands led by the strongest. That doesn 't make them men. But loals or matias couldn 't have painted that cave.

The little girl looked up, ecstatic, her mouth and chin smeared with leaf pulp and fragments of fish. Too young to have her curly black hair caked with mud or wax to hold the rough gems that might buy her life from a dragon, she could have been an Aldabreshin child. The sweetness of her smile pierced Kheda as unbidden memories of his lost daughters assailed him.

Does this little one live like an animal because she knows no better? Could these people drag themselves out of filth and ignorance if their lives weren't brutalised by this accursed alliance between mageborn and dragons that makes them little more than geese penned for the slaughter?

Kheda watched Velindre standing by the fire pit and trying to convey her appreciation of the food to the women there with wordless gestures. The women were smiling tentatively. Kheda saw that the old woman whom they had first encountered was among them, looking more animated than he had yet seen her.

Emboldened, the old woman reached out to touch Velindre's golden hair. The magewoman stiffened for a moment, then bowed her head meekly. The other women laughed and several did the same. Velindre bore their curiosity with commendable patience. One of the other

savage women rubbed the cotton of the magewoman's sleeve between finger and thumb, her expression marvelling.

Kheda got to his feet and walked past the fire pit and through the scatter of rough huts. He noted cautious eyes following him and here and there he caught a thoughtful expression.

Ignorance is not the same as stupidity. I should remember that.

'Naldeth?' Kheda entered the dead mage's hut.

'Go away.' The young wizard's voice was muffled. He was lying on one of the heaps of grass and skins with his back to the door and the crude screens protecting him from breezes as well as the intrusive curiosity of the savages hovering outside the inadequate walls.

Not the dead mage's bed, nor yet the one where that murdered feathered girl offered herself to you as her old master's conqueror.

He glanced across the dim interior to see Risala sitting against one of the pillars supporting the roof. Her feet were drawn up and she was hugging her knees, her head resting on them and her face hidden by her arms. The food she had brought lay untouched on the ground beside her. Beyond her, Kheda saw a dull gleam in the shadows.

Why have you taken off your false leg?

It looked as if Naldeth had thrown the steel contrivance over there. One of the buckles had been almost wrenched off its strap.

'What exactly happened, with that black dragon?' Kheda asked quietly.

'It held me in thrall with its element so it could show me how to mend myself.' Naldeth's voice shook. 'They can do that, dragons, heal themselves. It could see how I was made and how I was injured and it knew how I could make myself whole again. You're a physician — you must

know there are rare earths in our bones and blood, that we'll sicken for lack of them. That dragon would have taught me how to use my elemental power to draw what I needed to renew blood and bone and flesh and skin out of the earth around me.'

'What did it want in return?' Kheda already knew the answer.

'That I let it feed on whatever people I have no use for.' Naldeth's voice was thick with loathing.

'And you refused that trade,' Kheda said firmly. 'I can't think of one other man in a thousand who would have had the fortitude to do that. You fought free of whatever elemental thrall it wrapped you in. You have nothing to reproach yourself for.'

'I could only break free of its earth magic because it misread my affinity.' Naldeth refused to be comforted. 'And curse it, I want two whole legs again. It knew that. You've no idea—'

'Being cut off from my family in Daish has been like losing a part of me,' Kheda said without heat. 'Losing my children, born of my flesh. I live with it because I have to. You do the same. You could have curled up and died when you lost your leg. As you say, I'm a physician. I've seen men die not from wounds like that but from despair. You didn't succumb to either. You didn't capitulate to the dragon, despite temptation few could withstand.'

And I cannot allow you to give in to despair or self-pity just at the moment. You don't seem to realise it, but this fight has barely begun. If I cannot rekindle your spirit, we're all dead.

'I don't see much virtue in declining to become a murderer,' Naldeth groused, but the anger in his voice was blunted.

kheda went to sit beside Risala, limbs leaden and

fatigue tightening his neck. He rolled his head on his shoulders to ease his neck as best he could.

At least I'm not wearing armour.

Risala didn't move. Kheda put an arm around her rigid shoulders with some difficulty. Her tunic was cold and damp and unpleasant to embrace. She didn't yield to his attempt to draw her close. Surprised, he reached over to brush tousled hair from her forehead, trying to raise her face with a gentle hand. She refused to cooperate, shoulders hunching.

'I hate this,' she muttered with low vehemence. 'I hate this place and I hate these people and I hate being so scared and I hate seeing no end to this chaos.'

Kheda still did his best to hug her. 'We've survived death and magic before.'

'This is different.' Risala looked up, her eyes flinty and cold in the muted light. 'Before, we were among our own islands, with some hope of fleeing to our own people if worst came to worst. We were risking our lives to save our own people and, beyond them, the wider Archipelago. You were reading the signs in the skies and in the earthly compass that offered us some hope that we would see peace and safety again. All the omens reassured us we were doing the right thing, even if we were breaking every law and custom. What do we have to guide us now, if you've abandoned all trust in such lore? I thought if you got away from Chazen, from all the demands and debates and the burdens upon you, you'd see the compass clearly again, out on the ocean with nothing between you and the stars.'

She looked out of the bright rectangle that was the hut's entrance, her face smudged where tears had mingled with windblown dirt. 'We weren't even supposed to make landfall here, or to get involved with these people. These wizards were supposed to keep us safe and bring us

home when we'd learned all we could to safeguard our own. What are we supposed to do now, Kheda? There's still a dragon and a wild mage between us and the Zaise and we've stirred up this place as thoroughly as if we'd stuck a stick in an anthill. How do we get out of here? How do we get back to the ship?'

Naldeth rolled over and sat up awkwardly. 'I know this isn't what we planned,' he began with some distress, 'but I'm sure we can leave soon enough. With the sky dragon gone and the skull-faced mage dead, I'm sure Velindre can work an effective translocation sooner or—'

'You don't think that black dragon will be back?' Risala looked angrily at the mage, flinging out a hand in the direction of the distant river. 'With his pet mage and as many spearmen as the tree dwellers can muster? Assuming it doesn't catch you off guard a second time, as soon as you're gone, these people will still be prey to the first wild wizard or hungry dragon that comes across them. Those who aren't killed outright will just be thrown into some foul stockade. You killed the mage who protected them, even if he was a monstrous man.'

She hunched her shoulders, hugging her knees again, refusing Kheda's embrace. 'Don't tell me you haven't realised all this, my lord of Chazen. And don't tell me you'll leave these people to death and torment, even if they are savages. I know you too well. What I don't know is how we're going to get out of this alive - and don't tell me you've any better idea, my lord, because you wouldn't accept an omen if it rose up in front of you. Not that that will stop you.' She pressed her mouth against her knees as if to stop herself saying anything more. Staring straight ahead, she refused to look at Kheda.

You're one of the most astute women I've ever known. It's only one of the reasons why I love you. And you 're right. We 're mired deeper in this with every step we take and I can't

give you any answers, any more than I can give you any consolation read in the heavens or in omens.

Velindre appeared in the doorway. 'It's a good thing these people don't understand our tongue.'

'I want you to try scrying, to see exactly what lies between us and the Zaise' Kheda ordered her without preamble. 'Which is almost certainly going to draw unwelcome attention, so you'll need to keep watch for that black dragon, Naldeth. Don't let anything else distract you.'

Velindre switched her gaze from the younger mage to the warlord. 'I'm not sure that's a good idea.'

'Then come up with a better one.' Abandoning his attempts to comfort Risala, Kheda got to his feet. He looked down at Naldeth, his expression implacable. 'We certainly won't get home to Hadrumal or Chazen if we're dead and in a dragon's belly, so you had better strap on that leg of yours and start thinking how best you two mages can defend us from the magical malice of beasts or wizards. I'll see if I can come up with some plan to get the better of their spears and slings. Between us, we must get back to the ship.'

'You honestly think we can?' Naldeth looked at him, half-sullen, half-hopeful.

'As long as we're not attacked in the meantime,' Risala said dourly. She glanced at the magewoman. 'Can you scry out for more immediate dangers yet?'

'I think so.' Velindre shrugged. 'But I'll need something to hold some water.'

'I'll get it.' Risala looked warily up at the sky as she went out of the doorway. She didn't have to go far before she reached a knot of women clutching straw-coloured gourds veined with brown. As she held out her hands, the sweetness of her beseeching smile pierced Kheda.

When will you smile at me like that again? How could I

have been so blind to your distress at my rejection of both compasses and all omens?

The savage woman handed over her gourd, her scowl making it plain she begrudged it though she didn't dare refuse. Stony-faced once again, Risala brought it back to the mage woman.

Velindre took it with a sigh. 'Come on, Naldeth. How are we going to get past that black dragon without it noticing us? Unless you're going to change your mind and settle for a lifetime as the magical tyrant of this tribe.'

'I have no intention of staying here any longer than I have to.' Kheda managed a humourless smile. 'And as I see it, the only way we're going to get out of here is by cooperating and using all our skills. Let's get to it.'