He encountered Etta in the hall outside his cabin, her arms heavy with fresh linens. Her gaze roved over him, so that he felt almost affronted by her frank appraisal, and yet the approval that shone in her eyes assured him he had succeeded in his preparations. “Well!” she observed, almost saucily. A smile touched her lips.

“I go to speak to the ship,” he told her gruffly. “Let no one disturb us.”

“I shall pass the word immediately,” she agreed. Then, her smile widening, she dared to add, “You are wise to go thus. It will please her.”

“What would you know of such things?” he observed as he stumped past her.

“I had words with her this morning. She was passing civil with me, and spoke openly of her admiration for you. Let her see you admire her as well, and it will tickle her vanity. Dragon she may be, yet she is female enough that we understand one another.” She paused, then added, “She says we are to call her Bolt, as in lightning bolt. The name fits her very well. Light and power shine from her.”

Kennit halted. He turned back to face her. “What has brought about this new alliance?” he asked her uneasily.

Etta cocked her head and looked thoughtful. “She is different, now. That is all I can say.” She smiled suddenly. “I think she likes me. She said we could be like sisters.”

He hoped he concealed his surprise. “She said that?”

The whore stood clutching the linens to her bosom and smiling. “She said it would take both of us for you to realize your ambitions.”

“Ah,” he said, and turned and stumped away. The ship had won her. Just like that, with a kind word or two? It did not seem likely to him. Etta was not a woman easily swayed. What had the dragon offered her? Power? Wealth? But an even more pressing question was why. Why did the dragon seek to ally herself with the whore?

He found himself hurrying and deliberately slowed. He should not meet the dragon in haste. Calm down. Court her leisurely. Win her over, and then her friendship with Etta will be no threat.

As soon as he came out on the deck, he sensed a transformation. Aloft, the men were working a sail change, bandying jests as they did so. Jola shouted another command, and the men sprang to it. One man slipped, and then caught himself by one brawny arm. He laughed aloud and hauled himself up again. From the figurehead came a cry of delight at his skill. In an instant, Kennit knew the sailor had not slipped at all. He was showing off for the figurehead. She had the entire crew displaying their seamanship for her approval. They cavorted like schoolboys for her attention.

“What have you done, to affect them so?” he greeted her.

She chuckled warmly and glanced back at him over one bare shoulder. “It takes so little to beguile them. A smile, a word, a challenge to see if they cannot raise a sail more swiftly. A little attention, a very little attention, and they vie for more.”

“I am surprised you deign them worthy of your notice at all. Last night, you seemed to have small use for any human being.”

She let his words slip by her. “I have promised them prey, before tomorrow sunset. But only if they can match their skills to my senses. There is a merchant vessel, not too far hence. She carries spices from the Mangardor Islands. We shall soon catch her up, if they keep my canvas tight.”

So she had accepted her new body, it seemed. He chose not to comment on that. “You can see this ship, beyond the horizon?”

“I do not need to. The wind brought me her scent. Cloves and sandal-wood, Hasian pepper and sticks of kimoree. The smells of Mangardor Island itself; only a ship with a rich cargo could have brought such scents so far north. We should sight her soon.”

“You can truly smell so keenly?”

A hunter’s smile curled her lips. “The prey is not so far ahead. She picks her way through those islands. If your eyes were as keen as mine, you could pick her out.” Then the smile faded from her face. “I know these waters as a ship. Yet as a dragon, I do not. All is vastly changed from when I last took wing. It is familiar and yet not.” She frowned. “Do you know the Mangardor Islands?”

Kennit shrugged. “I know the Mangardor Rocks. They are a hazard in fog, and in some tides, they are exposed just enough to tear the bottom out of any ship that ventures near.”

A long troubled silence followed his words. “So,” she said quietly at last. “Either the oceans of the world have risen, or the lands I knew have sunk. I wonder what remains of my home.” She paused. “Yet Others’ Island, as you call it, seemed but little changed. So some of my world remains as it was. That is a puzzle to me, one I can only resolve when I return home.”