“Because you helped Marcus escape,” the child replied calmly. “He did escape safely, by the way. He and the young woman. They’re on their way back to his kingdom by now.”

The child cocked her bright eye at him. “Aren’t yon pleased?”

Ven shrugged. To his surprise, he was pleased. He didn’t plan on showing it, however.

“Good for them,” was all he said.

“You don’t care what happens to your brother? Or to Evelina?”

“Not particularly,” Ven replied. “I treated her badly and I made amends. My brother took her safely away from here. That’s all that matters.”

“So that is why you lured him here.” Draconas nodded in understanding. “To rescue the young woman. You never planned to betray Marcus to Grald, did you?”

“No,” said Ven shortly. “He’s my brother.”

“A brother you never knew you had.”

“I knew,” said Ven, remembering the small hand that had reached out to him when he was a boy, alone and crying in a cave.

Draconas was silent. Ven could almost see him rearranging impressions in his mind.

“Why didn’t you take the young woman away yourself?” Draconas asked. “Why don’t you leave now? You can see through the illusion. You know where to find the gate in the wall.”

Ven continued walking. The girl trotted along at his side. She was forced to take two and half steps for his one, to match his long strides. They’d left the watchful monks far behind. Ven could not see any others, though he had no doubt they were there, keeping an eye on him. Now was the time to reveal his plan and ask for aid. The words stuck in his craw.

Fortunately, Draconas was able to answer his own question.

“Your name,” said Draconas. “Vengeance. That’s the reason you stay. You’re here to kill Grald. Avenge your mother. Or maybe, that’s not quite right.” The girl cast him a bright, sharp glance. “Maybe you’re here to avenge yourself. Take out your wrath on the father who made you what you are.”

“What do you want with me, Draconas?” Ven demanded. “Are you going to lecture me on the folly of trying to slay the dragon by myself? If so, don’t waste your breath. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

“I’m here because you wanted to talk to me,” Draconas told him pertly.

“I never—”

“Oh, not in words or even in colors,” Draconas assured him. “Good thing, too, for if Grald discovered your plan, he would have your entrails for lunch. We don’t have much time and there’s something you need to see.”

Ven drew in a deep breath, let it out. “Look, Draconas—”

“Draca,” the girl corrected. “Don’t say or even think my name if you can help it.”