Oh mother! he thought at the last.

It was fast, the dragon’s head striking like a snake, low and sure and swift. Massive jaws stretched wide, breathing sulfur fumes. A snap! A gulp and a swallow, the impossibly long gullet working, neck stretched skyward. In the swamp of the Delta, the tall palodus tree stood unmoving, while small creatures keened in distress.

Inch by inch, Calanthrag the Eldest settled.

An insect chirruped.

Stillness settled over the Delta, ordinary stillness. Lizards crept, and snakes stirred their coils. Gnats whined, protesting the fall of darkness. A dragon’s talons relaxed their purchase in the mire. Straining wings eased their vanes. A long neck settled, chin sinking into muck. Membranes closed over glowing eyes to the lullaby of the Delta. In the moonlight, a hummock, black as slate, encrusted with moss, loomed above the swamp.

Calanthrag the Eldest slept.

GREEN. GREEN AND GREEN AND green.

It whirled in the Ravensmirror, reflected in the sheen of glimmering feathers. Green leaves, palodus and mangrove, a dense canopy. Dark green, pine green, the forests of Pelmar. Softer green, new vines and cedars, wings veering in fear from Vedasia, where death lurked, arrow-tipped.

“ENOUGH!”

Ushahin Dreamspinner pressed his fingertips to his crooked temples, his head aching at Lord Satoris’ roar.

The Ravensmirror shattered, bursting into feathered bits, heads tucked under wings in fearful disarray.

Back and forth he stormed, red eyes glowing like coals. The tower trembled beneath his tread. A smell in the air like blood, only sweeter. “What,” Lord Satoris asked with deceptive gentleness, “is Malthus doing?”

“I don’t know, my Lord,” Ushahin whispered.

“My Lord.” Tanaros executed a crisp bow. “Whatever the Counselor attempts, it matters naught. Our plans proceed apace, and your army stands in readiness. Our course through the Marasoumië is plotted, and Lord Vorax has seen to our lines of supply. Haomane’s Allies walk into a trap unwitting. We are prepared.”

The glowing red gaze slewed his way. “I mislike it.”

“My Lord.” Ushahin cleared his throat. “There is one way.”

“What?”

He flinched under the Shaper’s regard. “Ask the Ellyl. Put her to questioning. I cannot breach Malthus’ defenses, my Lord. I have tried. It may be she knows his plans.”

Tanaros shifted, disturbed.

“No.” The Shaper shook his head. Deep in their throats, ravens muttered. “I am a Shaper, one of the Seven. Let my Elder Brother name me what he will; I will not play into his hands by accepting the role he has allotted me. He holds his pride dearer than I, yet I am not without honor. Would you see it stripped from me? My Elder Brother has made a move, and I have countered it. I will not become the monster he has named me.”

Frustration surfaced in Ushahin’s crooked gaze. “It is better to live a monster than to die with honor, my Lord!”