“But ghosts don’t know karate.” The white bat kicked his thin leg out from under a round torso, tried to steady himself with a flutter of wings, and toppled backward. He hopped back up, frowning. “Sorry, sorry. Not used to the air out here in this hot, very hot desert. Normally that goes much better. Do you know karate? That’s what Thomas Hunter calls it in his dreams.”

“You mean this?” Darsal lunged from the pond dripping wet, snapped the air with a perfect roundhouse kick above her head, and dropped into a crouch, ready to defend.

Gabil stood as tall as he could, which was just over two feet, stuck out his chest, and eyed Darsal as if trying to decide whether he approved or not. “Close enough, I guess. Although that’s not perfect. One day I’ll show you the finer forms of karate.”

“Show me now if you—”

“No.” Gabil halted her with an extended wing. “Not enough time now. Too much to do. I have a message for you.”

Johnis and Silvie exchanged suppressed smiles as they stepped from the pond.

“He’s so cute,” Silvie whispered.

Gabil’s ears perked immediately. “What’s that? Am I?”

She knelt on one knee and kissed him on the forehead. “The cutest creature I’ve ever dreamed to meet.”

Johnis couldn’t tell if Gabil turned red under his white fur, but he was clearly smitten by Silvie’s generous praise. Or perhaps more by her. He paced unsteadily and stroked his chin, acting the part of importance.

“Well, I’ve never been called cute. A mighty fighter, an expert flyer, a defender of the land, the greatest Roush who ever did terrify Teeleh, but never cute. I’ll take it as a compliment.” He bowed.

But Johnis knew that Gabil would rather be cute, as Silvie put it, than anything. She’d won his loyalty for life.

The Roush cleared his throat. “Now the message Michal sent me to deliver is this: This water”—he pointed at the pond—“is the water you were looking for.”

They stood dripping around him. “That’s it?” Darsal said.

“That’s not important?”

“We already know this is water.”

“Well, it’s not my fault that I waited two days here, baking in this blasted heat while you bickered away the hours in the desert. But you’ve made it. You’re the first humans to ever lay eyes on this pool.”

Gabil glanced at the horizon. “I really should be going. I wasn’t technically supposed to . . . you know . . . swim with you. Just keeping an eye out. That’s all I’m doing.” He sauntered away from the pool.

“Now what?” Darsal asked.

Gabil looked back at her. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Well, he said something about the six lost Books of—”

“Then you know. Did he also tell you that he would die?”

She glanced at Johnis.