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Once we were under way, any fears vanished. For all his boastful streak, Bao never boasted in vain; he was skilled at the rudder. He swung the boat into the center of the river, letting the swift current take us. When Kang took to the oars, the little boat moved at an even livelier pace, much faster than we'd been travelling in the carriage, constrained by the foot-speed of our unlikely attendants. The scent of the river and the chilly breeze against my face made me smile, happier than I had been since our journey began.

The dragon was happy, too.

"He likes being on water," Snow Tiger commented.

Yes. I wish I could see, he added.

"So do I," she murmured, touching her thick veil. "So do I."

I glanced around. No one was watching, and the awning concealed us from the casual view of outsiders. "Why not?" I hadn't summoned the twilight since we'd left Shuntian. Given the effectiveness of our simple disguises, it hadn't been necessary. The princess had not asked it of me; nor had the dragon, eager to be helpful. It hadn't occurred to me that both must be longing for it in different ways. I took a deep breath and called the twilight, wrapping it around both of us. The sky dimmed, the river turned silvery, the green slopes leading down to it turned a soft heather-grey.

Ten Tigers Dai let out a sudden shout of alarm. "Where—"

"Here," I murmured, letting him hear me. "It's all right, be quiet. The lady and the dragon wish to see, and I am helping them."

He stared through me, pale with fear. "Ah… all right."

The princess removed her hat and veil, her dragon-reflecting eyes meeting mine. "It is all right, Dai. I promise. Tell the others."

He eased. "As you say, my lady."

The river? Please?

"Yes." Beneath the awning, Snow Tiger leaned over the edge of the narrow boat, gazing at the moving waters. The dragon sighed with pleasure. She beckoned to me. Kneeling beside her, I watched the reflection of dragon's pearlescent coils undulate with the flowing current alongside our boat, eeling through the reeds.

His happiness was like a song, a caroling chorus of gratitude running through it. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

"Of course," I said softly. "I am sorry I did not offer before. You have only to ask, treasured friend."

The princess dipped her fingertips into the water, letting them trail just below the surface. The dragon's reflection rippled and wavered. I sensed his delighted reaction, like an immensely vast and impossibly glorious dog having his belly rubbed.

"Despite everything, I will miss him," she said in a low voice. "Now that I know what he is. Now that I know him. Does that shock you?"

I shook my head. "I will miss him, too."

"It is not the same."

"No, of course not." All too well, I remembered that quicksilver energy surging through my veins in the Celestial City when the dragon had poured a measure of his essence into me through her kiss. Like a storm in my blood, wild and joyous. "No, it is not, my lady. And yet I will miss him nonetheless."

"And he, you." She withdrew her hand from the water, letting it rest briefly on my shoulder. "Betimes I wonder, Moirin of the Maghuin Dhonn. Bear-worshipping witch, child of desire. The unlikely confluence of deities that begot you flung you into the world to work their will without guidance. Tell me, where does it end? With this greater purpose you perceive? Are you a minor character in my tale, or am I a lesser figure in yours?"

"I don't know, my lady," I murmured. "I suppose it depends on who is telling the tale."

The princess contemplated me. The dragon's doubly reflected image swam in her black pupils, coiling and uncoiling endlessly. "I suppose it does."

Since it made the stick-fighters nervous, I didn't hold the twilight long, only long enough to soothe the dragon. The men whispered and murmured at our reappearance. Bao smirked at them. I wondered what further lies he'd told them about me. I wondered, too, whether he'd done it to protect me, or simply to aggrandize his own reputation.

Both, likely.

Although