Such desire! He was tumescent with it. The image, all unbidden, of the Lady of the Ellylon, slid into his mind. Cerelinde, bent over the saddle, the tips of her fair hair brushing the earth.

“Oh,” Ushahin said, grinding his teeth, “I think not.”

Sluggish bubbles rose in the murky water before him; rose, and burst, carrying the sound of laughter, slow and deep. In the branches, ravens arose in a clatter, yammering. Beneath the surface of the water, a pair of greenish eyes opened, slit with a vertical pupil and covered by the thin film of an inner lid.

Gripped by sudden fear, Ushahin propelled the skiff backward.

Iron-grey and slick with moss, the dragon’s head emerged from the water. It was twice the size of the skiff, dripping with muck. Droplets slid down its bearded jaw, plunking into the water, creating circular ripples. It stirred one unseen foreleg, then another, and Ushahin struggled to steady his craft as the swamp surged in response. The dragon’s inner lids blinked with slow amusement as it regarded him, waiting until the waters had quieted and he had regained control of the skiff. Only then did the massive jaws, hung on either side with strands of rotting greenery, part to speak.

“Is thisss desire ssso disstasssteful to you, little brother?”

Ushahin laid the pole across the prow of the skiff and made a careful bow. “Eldest,” he said. “Forgive me, Lord Dragon. I did not know you were here.”

Overhead, ravens circled and yammered.

The dragon’s gaze held, this time unblinking. “You bear Sssatoriss’ mark. You are one of his. You have ssseen my brother and know his fate.”

“Yes,” Ushahin said quietly. “Calandor of Beshtanag is no more.”

Turning its head, the dragon sighed. A gout of bluish flame jetted from its dripping nostrils, dancing eerily over the oily waters to set a stand of mangrove alight. A single tree flamed, black and skeletal within a cocoon of fire. The circling ravens squawked and regrouped at a distance. In the skiff, Ushahin scrambled for his pole.

“Peasssse, little brother.” The dragon eyed him with sorrow. “I mean you no harm, not yet. Calandor chose his path long ago, thisss I know. We know. We always know.” It shuddered, and ripples emanated across the swamp, setting the skiff to rocking upon the waters. “Ssso why come you here?”

“Seeking passage.” Emboldened, Ushahin rode out the waves, planting the pole in the mire and gripping it tight in both hands. “Will you grant it, Elder Brother?”

“Brother.” Beneath yellow-green eyes, twin spumes of smoke issued forth in a contemptuous snort. “What makesss you think I am your brother?”

Ushahin frowned, shifted his grip on his pole. “Did you not name me as much?”

“I named you.” The dragon snorted. “Brother!”

“What, then?”

“Would you know?” The nictitating lids flickered. “Guesssss.”