The building burned on into dusk. The Krotes tried to extinguish the flames, afraid that the smoke would be seen from a distance, but they were forced back by the heat. The fires had ignited the hawks’ fatty flesh, and the stench of burnt meat permeated the air across the whole of Conbarma.

That made the warriors hungry. They found wine cellars and good, fresh seafood in some of the homes, and that night they spent a few hours celebrating their first victory on the shores of Noreela.

Lenora sat and celebrated with them, but all the while a part of her mind was farther south, imagining the village of Robenna as she had last seen it. And as she looked around at the Conbarma dead, smelled their insides, watched the hungry hawks crunching them into pulp, she sensed a shade sitting within her. It said nothing, but it was comfortable. It recognized her.

She knew then that she would see Robenna again. And this time, it would be on her terms.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, five specks appeared in the sky out to sea. Lenora ordered a dozen Krotes aloft, while she and the remaining warriors took up defensive positions. The specks grew slowly, their course unerring, finally resolving into hawks. The scouts moved out to intercept them, but at the last minute the Krotes’ mounts veered away, spinning seaward, their riders shouting in dismay, shock and fear. All twelve managed to rein in the frantic hawks and hobble back toward shore, but by then the five new hawks were hovering above the harbor, two of them slowly setting down, tentacles reaching out to make their landing as gentle and graceful as possible.

Lenora could not bring herself to walk along the harbor wall to meet them. Her warriors knelt and rested their foreheads on the ground, muttering words of greeting and reverence.

And the Mages were on Noreela for the first time in three centuries.

“Lieutenant!” the tall one called. “I have need of you!”

Lenora swallowed, smoothed her leather tunic and stepped out onto the harbor wall. She had been in the Mages’ presence many times before but never like this, never in combat.

“Mistress,” she said, approaching the tall, old woman. She called herself Angel, but few people felt comfortable using that name. It was too personal. “Mistress, what an unexpected pleasure.”

“Indeed,” Angel said, stretching her bony arms. She looked around at the harbor and the battle-scarred town. “They’ve done the place up since I was here last,” she said quietly. “A few new buildings. Quieter. They must have known we were coming.” She looked at Lenora then, her old eyes filled with a knowledge and power that Lenora could not meet for more than a second or two. “What news, Lieutenant?”