Val’ha spent the next day alone for the most part, writing in her log while Trisahn worked with Eedebee to stock the Bugbear with provisions, prepare for his meeting with Mayor Altomaine, bring their horses to Jonathan and nap for some hours in between. Over and again she wrote and crossed out words and sentences. My father killed Xorus. Xorus killed my mother and father. The wraith of Xorus who saved my life carried his spell to set upon my family. Upon my mother. Upon me. That is the only thing that makes sense. The Xoran wraith protected me from Carla and Inez’ attack because Xorus wishes for his spell to come to its conclusion. He saved me only to fulfill its outcome, whatever that is. Val’ha’s flesh crawled at her realization and she desired to go back to the reeds of the silhouette but knew she would not find Ma’hadrin there again. She could not from any reckoning put into place the missing piece of Xorus’ curse and after a fashion gave up and joined Eedebee at the docks.

Flegretha and Tarnac were onboard the Bugbear with wooden chests talking to Eedebee. "Ahoy, Elf!" Flegretha called. "Top of the day to you!" Val’ha’s heart warmed at Flegretha’s insipirility, and the Dwarf reached out to assist her aboard.

"We are meeting your good captain, Eedebee," Tarnac said, "and stocking her with foodstuff worthy of, might I claim, a princess!"

Eedebee and Val’ha laughed and embraced each other. When Val’ha pulled back, Eedebee took her hand. "Oh!" she said. "His ring! Well."

Tarnac set the chest down. "I daresay this is the last of our suggestions, and as you have given us a tour of your fine ship, we will see you in the morning with my sister Oru and remind you that Flegretha and I only need one perch to sleep!" Flegretha came from behind Tarnac and lifted him by the middle. "Good Woman!" he cried gaily. "Let me down or we will need two perches!"

"It is off to packing and readying ourselves for your Elven cousins." Flegretha dropped Tarnac and brushed him forward. "You young maidens have a fine day!"

After they left Eedebee said, "They are the most wonderful folk! I think, Val’ha, you will enjoy your meals much better now, with Elven food made by Tarnac and the Faielves they tell me work in their galley!" Her laughter subsided when again she glanced at the ring; Val’ha told of its enchantment and Oromasus’ desire for her to act as Eedebee’s protectress. "I gave it to him when our love was in its springtime." There were tears in the captain’s eyes; she laughed and slumped onto the chest Tarnac had put down. "Always the sweet caretaker."

"Eedebee?"

"Well, you see," Eedebee began, then, "No."

"Come, my friend, why do you pause?"

"I cannot help, Val’ha, but to regard this as a sign from Oromasus."

"What do you mean?"

"For what other purpose would he perform such actions than to say goodbye?"

**

On the last night before their journey to the Island of Dragons, Val’ha joined Sirs Thoryn and Porcie, Hevoran and Jonathan the Trainer, and Tarnac and Flegretha at the Dragon Inn to make a toast to their departure.

"Good luck to you all! And may the speed of the gods be your back wind!" Hevoran hailed.

"Hail," they shouted.

"I would go with you myself, but with my new apprentice Tim, I daresay I should stay here and tend to business."

"They could not get you out on such a venture with a crowbar and two-keg of hopsbrew, you home-loving halfling!" Jonathan cried, and everyone roared. "I can only say in all seriousness, though, boys and girls, I would love to go with you too."

"But you earn too much watching their horses when they are gone!" Hevoran yelled, and cheers, cups and more festivity drowned out Jonathan’s drunk protestations.

The next morning Val’ha’s head felt swelled to twice its size, and she took a dip in Flooher’ty Sea to awaken. After she and Trisahn breakfasted and gathered their provisions, they locked up their lodging and made for the Bugbear. Eedebee was below deck breakfasting and bade they help themselves to their old cabin while she cleaned up. "Good morning? Hello?" a mousy voice called. It was Oru; Tarnac and Flegretha dragged their belongings down the ladder and hall into Nopaach-to and Andy’s old cabin. Oru clasped Eedebee’s hand in her own. "It is very gracious of you to allow me use of your vessel to travel back to my hometown."

"We look forward to the trip with you." Eedebee hastened Oru, Val’ha and Trisahn out of the galley to their cabins. Thoryn and Porcie arrived within the hour, their horses left at Jonathan’s stables; they took the berths in the Val Tress cabin and with that, Eedebee set course for the city of Denlineil.

**

Stormclouds meandered over the shoreline of Asch’endra-Conschala that day, but Eedebee guided the Bugbear with steady progress and when they passed it after several hours, Val’ha pointed out to her the Val Tress estate and gardens located at the extended foot of Mount Carias. The mountain itself was a constant feature during the voyage, and Val’ha used the day to gaze upon it, write and remember her life there with Ma’hadrin.

"Ahoy, Captain," Flegretha hailed Eedebee, engaging her in maritime discussion, talk of the weather and Flegretha’s own exploits as captain of the Dwarfkeep. Their laughter and conversation pleased Val’ha, for she knew many days lay ahead where festivity would be short. "How does a Dwarf go about securing one of these vessels?"

Eedebee smiled. "These grey-ships are rare but can be found."

Flegretha’s eyes widened. "To think how many fewer on my pay-list…hm. Perhaps the relations of my Tarnac will be of some use in locating such a magickal vessel. Tarnac!" She went below deck.

Eedebee and Val’ha, sitting nearby, looked at each other and laughed. Eedebee gazed into the sky at the grey clouds and pursed her lips. "This storm should pass over us before it bursts. It appears to be a natural cloud and not the work of Xorus."

Still, a few drops fell on Val’ha’s face, muddying her ink and she took her writing materials down-hatch. Oru was entertaining the Men in the galley, training Trisahn and the knights to play a card game called euchre. Val’ha sat in audience of their game and recognized King Joel and Queen A’gren amongst the face cards. Flegretha and Tarnac spent the time in their cabin.

Denlineil rested on the estuaries of Gyger and Denlineil Streams, branches into the wide Zyzax River; the land to the left, dominated by Mount Carias, was forested with foothills of fir and spruce pines. The highway from Knife to Eastern Moncrovia came into view the closer to Denlineil the Bugbear got, and with the stormclouds blown over Flooher’ty Sea, Val’ha stole above to once more enjoy her home mountain and the occasional horse- or wagon-riders traveling the route.

To their right marshlands made way for unforested hilly terrain populated by farmers and their crops; grains and fruit trees gave each hill a unique color, mostly grapevines tended by fieldworkers. Some land was set aside for small ranches of horses, cattle and camels imported from Azimq’haadrin’s southern desert. Night fell and Eedebee decided they would stop before pursuing the final hours to Denlineil. She located an amenable shore and employed Sirs Thoryn and Porcie to fix the Bugbear to a large tree that grew out over the river.

By dawn Val’ha discovered Eedebee had already arisen, prepared breakfast for her shipmates and set out up the river to Denlineil. Its port rested where the confluence of the Gyger and Denlineil suddenly widened into the slow, deep grandness of the mile-wide Zyzax River, more of a bay for its allowance of vessels from and to Flooher’ty Sea by craft of oar or sail with equal ease. Terr’Sol splashed orange across the port, a row of rock outcroppings and docks with boats and ships whose crews began to stir for the new day; further northeast, a short distance up the Denlineil Stream, the four pillars of the great black torchlit Denlineilian Bridge that joined the eastern and western shores caught the river and sent competing V-shapes into the Zyzax. Inns, elaborate homes and merchantries lined the shore of the narrow-street town, all blackstone with light-brown rock for roofing. As they moved closer the docks, Val’ha noticed they too were carved blackstone, and other than the ships, nothing was made from wood.

The dockmistress approached the Bugbear and Eedebee paid their toll for the stay in Denlineil. Sounds of breakfast below deck told Val’ha the others had arisen; Flegretha joined her. "A new day for Terr’Sol to gaze upon the happenings of our realm." She breathed deeply and grabbed her middle; Val’ha said nothing, appreciating also the freshness of the morning. "Fine lady Elf from the sky, tell me, for my desire to spend the next fortnight with Short Elves does not intrigue me as my musings may have led your beliefs."

"Yes, Flegretha?"

"You are continuing on to the Island of Dragons after this?"

"We are, after Trisahn completes his business with the mayor today."

"Then I would like to go with you, and Tarnac as well. I meant what I said when we first met – we are joined in this battle (and I would rather face an army of Dragons before a day more than I must of Tarnac’s family of arguers and chowderheads). The knights have spoken of the task set before you, and I shake a strong mace! Tarnac has brought his axe and shortsword, all spiced metals, and we carry herbs and spices to spook away the mightiest demon!" Val’ha accepted Flegretha’s offer. "Oru will not join us, she was too wearied by our trek to the Cat Islands and," Flegretha dropped her voice, "she enjoys being with her kin, poor insipirile."

**

Denlineil ran quietly; there were no vendors, baskets or goods outside the shops, all trade done indoors. The windows of the inns and merchantries, though some displayed wares, were for the most part curtained; signs were uniform grey, each with Human and Dwarven script on each. The buildings inside the city were more diverse in shape – some triangular, some square and some different-leveled – but all black-rock and on tight streets where few horses and no wagons fit. For all that, Denlineil was well-lit by Terr’Sol and the townspeople went about their errands as cheerily as in Moncrovia.

Oru, Tarnac and Flegretha bade their hosts farewell for the morning – "By the gods I will pry us loose by then," promised Flegretha – and left for their family. With Eedebee and Porcie aboard the Bugbear, Thoryn, Val’ha and Trisahn made their way toward Center Denlineil, the office of Mayor Altomaine, passing along the way a triangular merchantry with no windows, its rocks more weathered than the rest. "Cagliostra’s Shoppe," Trisahn said, "the oldest in the city."

"What does she sell?" asked Sir Thoryn.

"She is an alchemist. We have a piece of time before my meeting with the mayor. Let us go in." A few small candles provided the only light in the dusty merchantry, and to the left behind a counter sat a beautiful Woman, her hands together in spiderleg fashion against her chin. She only noticed them when Thoryn shut the door.

There were counters of bones and counters of dolls; counters of potions in philters and bottles; and half of the shop counters held flasks. "Good day." Cagliostra’s voice was raspy and soothing at once. "What may I interest you in?"

"These are what we came for." Trisahn took six of the flasks to her.

"You are Denlineilian."

"Yes, and have heard of your brew."

"My specialty!" Cagliostra’s expression lifted. "Many come from all the lands for my witches brew, and any who visit forbidden places."

"What is it used for?" asked Val’ha.

Cagliostra gave her a long and hard stare instead of answering. She looked up to the ceiling and closed her eyes, pinching her forehead. Last, she snapped her fingers at Val’ha. "Ma’hadrin! Yours is the face of Ma’hadrin!"

"I am his daughter."

Cagliostra appeared impressed to the utmost. She gave a deep bow and said, "Legend teems with the doings of your forebear, and so it must be true."

"True?" asked Trisahn.

"Take these flasks and give me no silver," said Cagliostra, pushing them forward, "for the scioness of Ma’hadrin comes by here, toward her meeting with the Island of Dragons!"

"How do you know of this?" Sir Thoryn asked.

"Who in the magickal realm is not aware of the Curse of Bjursk-la? Further, on my recent journey from Bylikaegra back to Denlineil I visited my old friend the Wizard of Castle Moncrovia, where all with magickal blood pay their respects when in that city. It is no small thing that he described a she-Elf, a black knight and a Denlineilian. From his conversation I see it is you, for such coincidence as this is, even to me, not likely."

"We thank you for the witches brew," Val’ha said.

"Yes! It is my own concoction. Here, smell it." Cagliostra held one of the flasks up and removed its cork, unleashing an aroma of such distinct sweetness that Val’ha craved to drink of the liquid.

"Do not!" Cagliostra warned. "Do not ever drink my brew, for in its enchantment only its odor pleases. The rest is poison, and woe to those who partake its honeyed death." Thoryn lifted three flasks by their straps and draped them over his shoulder; Val’ha took the others and thanked Cagliostra, who closed her eyes and resumed her chair, putting her hands again to her chin and saying nothing further.

**

The blackstone main street of Denlineil was as wide as an entire block, and here were the wagons and mounts, but otherwise it was well-ordered as the side avenues. Center Denlineil, a modest single story, was indeed at the heart of the city, and the main street opened on both sides of the building, making it an island in the road.

"Do you really want us to attend with you here?" Sir Thoryn asked Trisahn.

"Yes!" A shot of panic sounded in Trisahn’s throat, but he scowled when Thoryn chuckled.

Inside the front office an old Elf sat with his back to them, hm-ing and mm-ing at a document. Around the room were shelves of books, tables piled with books ready to fall over, pegged maps and charts strewn onto to the walls, and a closed door. Trisahn cleared his throat and the Elf turned.

It was Gregarcantz, the posse-going Elf Val’ha met when he was in pursuit of Trisahn. He recognized her and after a fashion Trisahn as well, and his open stare turned for a flash to anger before he rose and spread his arms to greet them. "Good day to you three, and it is true then. Dyphrasian." He swiveled about to consult the document he had been studying, "Trisahn, gone a thief and come back a savior!"

"I am in strong fact Trisahn," he responded with a slight chill.

"I am Gregarcantz, Vice-Mayor for the city. Welcome you all, Val’ha, good to see you again, and Sir Thoryn as agent from the King himself." Thoryn bowed and Val’ha acknowledged his greeting, waiting for Gregarcantz to accuse her of lying on Mount Carias to save Trisahn from his posse, but he did not. "I have just completed my final review, by order of Mayor and King, of your decree of pardon, Master Trisahn. Mayor Altomaine and his troth Guinivere are awaiting you, one moment." Gregarcantz rolled up the decree and disappeared behind the closed door.

Trisahn tapped his foot. Val’ha could not help but to smile at him and say, "Dearest friend, calm your spirit, for if you have walked into a trap, then we have as well." She put her arm around his shoulder and he loosened under her touch.

"It is as you say, I am certain, but there is much unrest inside me. In so many ways – coming back here, returning to Denlineil, your presence – it is like a circle I have gone around on."

"Well, replace your unrest with a renewed mind," Sir Thoryn advised. "Your exoneration is near and your new life at hand."

The door to Mayor Altomaine’s office opened and Gregarcantz stepped out to bring them inside a well-ordered room, chairs of leather and fresh-cut flowers in finely painted vases. Altomaine and Guinivere sat holding hands behind a low, broad table upon which the decree lay, and they rose to greet the companions. "Are you surprised I am not out of my wits in anger at you?" Altomaine asked Trisahn without introduction. "With your Elf-wear and your shaved chin and your new name at the King’s feast, I argued with my lady Guinivere almost to distraction for days after, such was our recognition of you and yet our inability to place you. To have you save her life…"

Guinivere embraced the three one by one. "To have you save my life, and free my family from the burden that has plagued us all these years, there is no reward we can give you large enough."

She stepped back and invited the mayor to resume his seat, then the companions to do so as well. "Well, let us be short with this," Mayor Altomaine said, his focus on the wording of the decree; he mumbled and cast his eyes over the parchment at Trisahn several times before placing the decree back on the table, taking his quill and signing his name next to King Joel’s seal. Trisahn reached for the document, but Altomaine held his hand up and said, "Now, wait – though you have convinced the King and all around you of your new calling in life, I wish to read the decree aloud so that you may hear and understand its terms.

"’By decree of King Joel IV of the Blue Rose Dynasty of Asch’endra-Conschala, Commander of the Army, Grand Duke of Carias and Mayor-royal of Moncrovia, and by decree of the office of Mayor and First Alderman Gregory Altomaine, Chief Sheriff and Posse-goer of Denlineil, as follows: He who is recognized by both King and Mayor as Trisahn of Moncrovia shall be absolved of all past crimes and disorderliness for which he has been convicted but not caught…’" Trisahn went to take the decree but Altomaine continued in a raised tone, "’including six counts petty theft, two counts heckling of public figures, one count undue humiliation of a Dwarf with undue cause, fourteen counts lying, ten counts standard theft, one count malicious destruction, two counts public bother …’"

"Trisahn!" whispered Val’ha; he gazed at the floor.

"’…three counts false identity to avoid the law, tax avoidance, one count highway robbery, twenty counts pickpocketing, four counts offering bribe to ignore aforesaid crimes and last, theft of monies from the public trust.

"’By decree this Mocrolester 8 of the year 3100, the issuants understand that if in the future a life of crime is pursued by said Trisahn of Moncrovia, this document shall be declared null and its beneficiary punished to the fullest extent of Denlineilian and royal law.’" The Mayor scrolled the decree and handed it to Trisahn with a glare that softened after a second. "During your years of thievery and graft there have been untold miseries put upon the lives of your victims, and your trespassing onto civic property to pilfer and destroy is not something I will forget soon, but for the life of my betrothed and the relief of her family, who are very prominent citizens of our city, you are thus rewarded." With his pardon in hand, Trisahn bade his goodbyes and hastened Thoryn and Val’ha out past Gregarcantz, who had only time to wave his hand once before the door slammed on Center Denlineil and the companions returned to the Bugbear.

**

The trio made fast pace with many questions from Val’ha for her closest friend. "Bribery, Trisahn? Humiliating Dwarves?"

Eedebee had prepared a midday meal for the returnees; Val’ha and Sir Thoryn relieved themselves of the witches brews and joined Trisahn and the captain for lunch, updating Eedebee on their encounters with the Mayor – including, after a deep breath, Trisahn’s past – and with Cagliostra. "Cagliostra It is true what she stated, many come to Castle Moncrovia to confer with High Wizarder Oromasus as they travel through. I have met Cagliostra many times over the past years and she is favored by him."

"Now how could you know this?" Thoryn and Trisahn asked at once. Eedebee swallowed; Val’ha sensed the time was nigh for another confession and nudged her friend and with that, Eedebee told the Men of her love affair with the High Wizarder, the first coming of Xorus and his curse upon them a century ago.

"Many things are now clear to me," Sir Thoryn mused when she finished.

"By my certainty," added Trisahn, "you already knew about me – you were in the room!"

"Cat-Woman," said a voice, for in the galley door stood Flegretha with Tarnac returned from his cousins. "A great tragedy, and if you can forgive us too, Trisahn, we wish you happiness in freedom." Eedebee and Trisahn started.

"How is your family, Tarnac?" Eedebee said, faster and higher than she normally spoke.

"As painful as they ever were," answered Flegretha for them; Tarnac appeared ready to make a point, then held his silence.

"Is anyone about? Below deck there – greetings!" A Woman made her way to the galley, dressed in brown skins, bow and arrows on her back and a pack of provisions in her hand. She shook her lively red hair. "I am Tropruscht of the Caves, and wish to accompany you to the island."

**

The Zyzax River carried the Bugbear into Flooher’ty Sea on course toward the Island of Dragons. "We chase the stormclouds at this rate," Eedebee after some hours told Val’ha, who wrote in her journal nearby. "I am of a mind to slow down our rate of speed."

"If that is your counsel, please do so," invited Val’ha, then, "It was very brave of you to speak to Thoryn and Trisahn about Xorus’ hex upon you. It brings back to all the importance of the High Wizarder and his fellow Sages finding and destroying the Xoran birthstone."

"My greatest joy is that once freed back into the world I may have a claim in my own destiny. I may know not of any cure for the curse on Oromasus and me – but at least I can be of assistance in these islands."

Below deck the sound of glass pounding the galley table over and again teased Val’ha’s curiosity and she went to find its source. Trisahn and Tropruscht tottered, Tropruscht pouring a vaporous amber liquid from a large flask into small glasses. They lifted the glasses in a click, kicked back their heads and Val’ha thought consumed the glasses whole before slamming them rim-down onto the table. "I won!" proclaimed Tropruscht in a slow drawl.

"Hog swallow!" slurred Trisahn. "I finished my whiskey first, and that is ten points for me, and I win!"

"Men! Another contest!"

"Another!"

The stench of the whiskey filled Val’ha’s nose and she almost passed out. Tarnac and Flegretha were quiet in their cabin and Sirs Thoryn and Porcie smoked pipes and played cards in theirs, so she returned above-hatch to continue her journal. "Tropruscht is an archer then," Eedebee said after Val’ha told of their meeting on Mount Carias. "She must be close to Gregarcantz, to have him report to her when we were in their city."

"I agree – with her archery skills, I believe she will add much toward Oromasus’ final quest. She is by her passion a posse-goer, she said, and I can see no investment other than the desire to save the city of her parents as her interest." Val’ha went back to her journal and Eedebee her wheel.

**

"If I am correct," said Sir Porcie, analyzing along with Val’ha, Thoryn and Eedebee a map of the Caterwauler Islands, "Mapkeeper Anschweiss indicated that the island upon the horizon is a dot called Z Isle, so small it has a letter for its name."

"Porcie, can you show us the map you received for the Island of Dragons?"

"Certainly, Val’ha." Porcie retrieved a drawing of a rough-crescent island with several much smaller to its west. "There is a mountain range from the center proceeding northwest to the opposite shore, and also on the southern tip, but beyond that this map, though our best, is from over a century ago and crude, for like other such enchanted islands, Dragon is feared and mappers have avoided it."

"DO not cast palls, brother knight," Sir Thoryn chided. "We will beat a great victory into the land – we have the chosen one." Val’ha felt Thoryn’s confidence, but with his last comment her spirit shrank. She did not desire the position the High Wizarder thrust her into. She did not want to be singled out after Ohrt, Sipsids and the sky-palace from her friends, and was torn even with the sense that she grew closer to them and further from them at the same time.

"What is that?" Eedebee’s question pulled Val’ha from her reverie and she turned toward Z Isle, guessing its length to be several hundred leagues. Tall nut-trees with long green leaves swayed with the breeze that pushed the stormclouds out ever ahead of them, now over the Island of Dragons. "There!"

Four small figures formed into Humans in the sand and Eedebee brought the Bugbear around toward the islet. Pieces of wood and various flotsam and jetsam bobbed about the yellow-green water; those on the ship were aroused and peered into the sea or at the Humans. When they pulled near as Eedebee could, Trisahn said, "Dear captain, I will, when my fortunes are made, purchase for you a smaller craft for times such as this." He jumped overboard and swam the short distance to the four figures, three of them standing but a fourth – a Woman with the left side of her face bloodied – who lay still. Thoryn, Porcie and Tropruscht joined them.

Val’ha slipped into the sea. With the waves a few feet above her, the amethysts of the Ring of Ashley glowed and she could breathe again; finally her head broke water and the beach into view. Strewn about the sand were pieces of broken ship, barrels and chests. Trisahn was in conversation with the three Men and Val’ha jolted, for though she did not know the Woman or one of the Men, the other two were Nopaach-to and Andy.

Her first attention was to the Woman who lay injured, and she knelt in the wet sand. All else turned blue; Val’ha’s heart pounded strong and she tingled throughout. The fine-boned Woman, with long curled chestnut ringlets of hair around her pale, light-freckled face, long torn velvet dress, ruby heart on a gold chain about her neck and wet leather satchel fallen off her shoulder, bled from a wound on her forehead. Val’ha placed her hand over her. A drone of sound and silence, such as she experienced breathing underwater, rushed about her ears, leaving her to hear nothing else. The entirety of her energy went to the wound and the healing green-light took almost of its own. The Woman stirred a little, and Val’ha kept the light upon her until the cut and blood vanished.

Val’ha heard then the ocean wind and stood to embrace Nopaach-to and Andy. "Dear, dear, dear Val’ha," raved Nopaach-to, his hair and robes disheveled, wet and sandy, and then he knew of nothing else to say and was silent. Thoryn had his arms around his brother, Tarl-Cabot, and Porcie hugged him as well. Tarl-Cabot still possessed his magickal Sword; his clothing, leather and chain mail were ripped and deeply weathered.

"Val’ha." He sounded familiar with her name. "Thank you, Val’ha, for saving Aeysla, our shipmate and friend."

"How was it that your ship came to ruin, Sir Tarl-Cabot?" asked Porcie.

"Some hours ago the Goddess became trapped by the storm now ahead of us, but it was of little concern to us after our years on the sea. Then from the east flew a Blue Dragon, as big as a house, with its flames. The Goddess was afire, and I let go the crew on the lifeboats until it was just the four of us. I threw up my Sword Crundin and cast its flame, catching first another of the beast’s blasts and then setting fire to the thing’s flesh itself! It flew into the clouds and Aeysla was readied – she is a wizard – to cast her red-bolt into the sky. We heard a great cry from up there when she struck. We did not see the Dragon again, but the clouds rained dirt and stones and boulders upon us. One struck Aeysla, and others what ship was not burning. We caught Aeysla and made toward this island, and here we are."

"A Dragon!? It is not Mocrolester…"

"There are some who have said that sentinel Dragons would arise in the days before the invasion." Aeysla held Val’ha’s forearm, the warmth of her body and smile letting Val’ha know her appreciation. "I am certain this was one of the sentinels."

Val’ha remembered the reason for the Goddess’ voyage. "What of the Baroness Val Tress?"

Andy pushed his brown sandy hair behind his ears. "She did not join us on this venture, I am pleased to let you know."

"You did not see our other crewmembers then." Sir Tarl-Cabot held little hope in his voice.

"No," said Sir Thoryn. "There are many directions they could have gone off to, however."

"Many." Tropruscht proceeded to stand face to face with Tarl-Cabot, arms akimbo and tongue clicking.

Tarl-Cabot grimaced at her for a moment, then a look of recognition ran across his face and he almost stepped back. "Tropruscht! Tropruscht of Denlineil! It is good to see you."

"And likewise to see you, Tarl-Cabot. For a glance of time, I wondered if you were gentle enough a Man to remember me."

Tarl-Cabot produced a flagon of wine from the beach. "There was but some luck in our misfortune." He passed around the flagon for all to drink and hailed the auspice of King Zeus and Ashley, challenged, "Come then, Porcie and Thoryn, let us have a race," and jumped into the sea.