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By Root 797 0

long slope of the valley to the mouth of the pass. There they all dismounted to drink and bathe their hands and faces at the sacred spring, and touch the stony head of the dragon above it for luck. It had died long before they'd come here and turned to stone, as the old dragons did. Most of the body had crumbled away, but the huge head was perfect, down to the sharp spines on its muzzle. Even in winter it was still warm to the touch, as was the water. Hazadriel had taken this as a sign that the valley was to be theirs--they who had the blood of the Great Dragon in their veins, their gift and their curse. That heritage was proven through the tayan'gil, made from some evil distillation of Hazad blood, who had dragon's wings and great powers of healing, as the dragons of their homeland were said to.

The Retha'noi people had been here already, but they kept to the heights with their herds and witches, and welcomed the lowlanders when the Hazad proved to them they meant no harm.

Turmay didn't drink, but instead sprinkled spring water on his oo'lu.

"Why are you doing that?" asked Rane.

Turmay rubbed his wet hand up and down the long horn. "So your moon god will help me find the white child, too. My Mother doesn't mind if I pray to your Aura for guidance, since it is one of your kind that we seek."

"You call it a child. Why?"

Turmay shrugged. "Because it's small like a child."

"You can tell what it is, even without the wings?"

"The Mother knows and she tells me."

This was very strange. The last tayan'gil they had hunted down had been tall and winged, like all the others.

The younger riders talked excitedly among themselves as they began the long ascent. This hunt, their first, would lead them far beyond the world they knew, perhaps all the way back to Aurenen. Rieser himself felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of seeing that lost homeland, even if their purpose in going there was a grim one.

Rieser glanced over at Hazadrien, riding to his left as always. The glamour was a good one; he looked as normal as the others and would be safe while it held. "Ready for the hunt, old friend?"

It was habit, of course. Hazadrien never answered or smiled, or showed any emotion for that matter. He just twitched his shoulders, settling pale, leathery wings more comfortably under his loose tunic. The glamour hid the rest.

CHAPTER 5

Luck and Deep Water

THE DAY of their departure from Gedre, dark rumpled clouds hung low on the horizon and the cold wind promised rain and swift sailing. The wind whipped their cloaks around their legs and pulled at their hoods as Alec and the others said their farewells to the khirnari. It had been a week since the assassins' attempt, and there had been no trouble since.

"Thank you for the chances you've taken, harboring us here," Seregil said, pressing a hand to his heart. "And for the care and friendship you've extended to my talimenios. If ever you need our help, we'll be here like the wind."

"If you can manage not to get yourselves killed in the meantime," Riagil said.

Holding a closely bundled Sebrahn by the hand, Alec managed a grin. "We have so far." The khirnari seemed happier today; Alec suspected Riagil was glad to see the back of them. "And thank you again for this," he added with genuine gratitude. Riagil had given him a bow and quiver when he learned that Alec's famous Black Radly had been lost to the slavers. It was a flat bow made of lemonwood from southern Aurenen and backed with vellum. It was as fine a one as he'd ever handled, well balanced and as light as it was strong. The limbs pulled evenly and true, with nearly the same weight as the Radly.

With the last of the farewells said and gifts given, they boarded the ship and soon got under way. The salt-laden breeze caressed Alec's face and pulled little tendrils from his braid as he stood at the prow with Seregil, Sebrahn between them, savoring the familiar tug of excitement as the clustered white houses and then the harbor slid away into the mist behind them. The start of any journey filled him with anticipation,