“Did you hear that?” she demanded.

“No. What?” he demanded, but instead of answering, her great wings stroked with a sudden energy. The ocean and the ships upon it receded beneath him. He shut his eyes as she beat her way higher still. When he dared to open them again, the ocean below them was a rippling fabric, the islands scattered toys. He could not get his breath. “Please,” he begged dizzily.

She did not reply. Instead, she caught a cold current of air with her wings and hung there. He closed his eyes and endured miserably. “There!” she cried out suddenly. He did not have the breath to ask her what. They tipped and went sliding down the sky. The cold wind bit to his bones. Just when he thought he could be no more miserable, Tintaglia gave vent to an ear-shattering scream. The sound rang in his ears even as his small human soul was consumed by her mental shout of triumph. “See them! There they are!”

“SOMETHING’S HAPPENED!” ALTHEA ANNOUNCED TO THE OTHERS IN THE ROOM. “The serpents cease their attack. They all turn their heads.” She stared out of the small porthole. She could see a small segment of the battle, but by it she judged the whole. Of the five ships she could see, all had taken damage. On one, sails drooped in tatters and there was little deck activity. It would never see port again. The serpents had broken the fleet’s formation and scattered them, forcing each ship to battle individually. Now the serpents had suddenly ceased their attacks and stared up at the sky with their huge gleaming eyes.

“What?” Malta asked anxiously, sitting up straight.

Jek gave up her vigil at the door. “Let me see,” she demanded, coming to the porthole. Althea ducked out of her way and stepped to the middle of the room. She reached overhead to put her hands flat to a beam. “I wish I were more closely linked to Vivacia. I wish I could see with her eyes, as I once did.”

“What does she feel? Wait! Where are all the serpents going?” Jek demanded.

“She feels too much. Fear and anxiety and sorrow. Are the serpents leaving?”

“They’re going somewhere,” Jek replied. She turned away from the porthole with an impatient snort. “Why are we staying in here? Let’s go out on the deck and see.”

“Might as well,” Althea replied grimly.

“Wintrow said we’d be safer here,” Malta reminded them. She lifted her hands suddenly to her head as if even the thought of venturing onto the deck pained her.

“I don’t think he expected things to go this way,” Althea replied reassuringly. “I think we should find out what is happening.”

“I demand that you all remain here!” the Satrap shouted suddenly. He sat up, his face creased with anger. “I will not be abandoned! As my subjects, you owe me loyalty. Remain here, to protect me as necessary.”

A grin twisted Jek’s mouth. “Sorry, little man. I’m not your subject, and even if I were, I’d still go up to the deck. But if you want to come with us, I’ll watch your back for you.”

Malta dropped her hands from her face. She drew a sudden breath through her gaping mouth, then announced, “We have to get to the deck. Right now! Tintaglia comes! The dragon calls to the serpents.”

“What? A dragon?” Althea demanded incredulously.

“I can feel her.” Wonder was in Malta’s voice. She jumped to her feet, her dark eyes growing ever larger. “I can feel the dragon. And hear her! Just as you can know things through the ship. Don’t doubt me, Althea. This is true.” Then she paled, her wonder turning to despair. “And Reyn is with her. He comes, all this way, seeking me. Me!” She lifted a hand to cover her mouth and her face crumpled.

“Don’t be frightened,” Althea said gently.

The girl hunched on her chair. Her fingertips prodded the ridged scar on her brow. She dropped her hands away as if burned, then stared at her claw-like fingers. “No,” she whispered. “No, it’s not fair.”

“What is the matter with her?” the Satrap demanded disdainfully. “Is she ill? If she is ill, I wish her taken away.”

Althea knelt beside her niece. “Malta?” What ailed the girl? “Stop.” The word was as much command as plea. Malta pushed herself ponderously to her feet. She moved as if she were made of separate pieces, none of which fit together very well. Her eyes were flat. She picked up her headwrap from the table, looked at it, then let it fall from her fingers. “It doesn’t matter.” Her voice was distant, impartial. “This is who I am now. But…” She let her thought die away. She walked toward the door as if she were entirely alone. As she passed through it, Jek held it wide for her. The Six Duchies woman gave Althea a quizzical look. “Are you coming?”