“No gate?” remarked the cacica, in surprise. “You cut a gate once in the fence the behiques raised around Kiskeya, young woman. As you well recall, since it was through that gate my murderer entered my realm. Why can you not cut a gate here in the same manner?”

Amadou Barry rudely spoke right over her words.

“You just claimed to know what you are about in this place,” he said in the tone of a man who has had enough of the pretensions of the lesser folk. “It is time you girls gave up this fruitless quest and returned to Adurnam with me.”

Bee turned to look out toward the horizon. “Cat! A light is rising. A dragon is turning in her sleep. I can feel the smoke of her dreams rushing toward us.”

A blaze of white fire splintered the darkness, rolling toward us across a flat, grassy landscape.

“Rory! Come here! Bee, get hold of him. Legate, grab Beatrice’s hand.”

Shuddering with fear, Rory pushed up against Bee as I sheathed my sword and flung one arm around her and with the other grabbed a hank of Rory’s pelt. My hip was pressed into Rory’s heaving side.

“What are you doing?” demanded Amadou Barry.

“Legate, if you don’t grab hold of her now, you will be swept away—”

“Blessed Tanit!” exclaimed Bee.

The tide of the dream, like daylight, illuminated a crowd of animals creeping toward us out of the night. The beasts seemed oblivious to the tide because they were so intent on murdering Bee.

“Brave Jupiter! I shall fight them off!” Amadou advanced like a hero, sword raised to threaten the beasts.

The tide swept down, ripping through them, tearing a gash through the world.

“Amadou!” cried Bee, dropping the hammer. “Grab hold of my hand!”

The light cut through me. The earth fell away as the world tipped to spill me into an abyss through which I would fall for eternity. But Bee was my rock. She was the pillar that no earthquake or storm could dislodge. She was warded ground.

Amadou Barry did not reach for her. The tide struck him full on. One moment I saw his body clearly, streaked with currents of shining smoke. Then he tumbled into an unseen gash in the fabric of the world. The tide of the dream streamed on, leaving us trembling in its wake as the earth shuddered back into solidity under our feet.

Rory nudged me, and I let go of Bee and knelt to bury my face in his thick black pelt. After I caught my breath, I raised my eyes.

Bee did not move. In one hand she still held the head of Queen Anacaona. Her other arm was extended, but her hand was empty.

She swayed as if caught in a gust of wind, then crumpled to her knees and began weeping.

The tide had taken him.