His hands were tied behind his back with tough leather. He knew that if he fell, he wouldn’t be able to prevent his head striking the ground. Hauling him by the whipcord, the camel moaned in irritation. The wide-bellied, long-legged beast had no trouble navigating the uneven terrain, forcing him to jog to keep up. Nestled in a huge, curved saddle just behind the animal’s hump, Palemon rode the camel comfortably, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

In the distance, heat rose from the ground in shimmering waves, while high above, the sky was devoid of clouds, promising that the blazing sun would only grow fiercer as it rose to dominate the sky. The air smelled of sweat and animals. All around, camels grumbled and donkeys hawed. Warriors from the frozen north were red-faced in their chain mail but never made a sound of complaint. A sharp crack came from the direction of the baggage train: somewhere a porter’s shoulders had been sliced by the lick of the slave master’s whip.

It was an immense column leaving behind the city of Malakai, heading for Cape Cush and the treasures they hoped to find beneath the sea. The king led from the front, towing Dion like an animal being taken to market, while behind them walked several gray-robed sorcerers and scores of Palemon’s soldiers. Not far from the king, Zara and Kyphos were both riding camels of their own.

Panting as he tried to moisten his parched lips, Dion distracted himself by thinking about the days ahead, and Zara’s plan to unearth the relics of Aleuthea. He wondered whether he would be able to take advantage of the situation to kill the man he’d sworn he would destroy. Much of his submissiveness and halting speech was pretense, but he knew that he was far from at his strongest. Nonetheless, if the chance came, he would seize it without question. He would take Palemon’s life, even if it cost him his own.

With little to do but ponder, his mind turned to Chloe and Finn. He hadn’t seen Cob, but he knew the old man would be with them. Finn’s ruse was over: Palemon was convinced that Fustalonious of Lyre – as he still believed Finn to be – had worked his way into the king’s favor solely to free the dragons. The tall king had raged about his chronicler’s deception, while Dion had fought to keep a smile from his face. He was glad that Chloe and Finn were now far away.

He coughed in the dust. The cord fastened to his collar jerked tight again as he struggled to keep moving.