I wasn’t certain there would be an after this, but I was ready to agree to anything if he just kept touching me.

But then his gaze flickered beyond me, and he gasped. Shock went sharp over his features—shock and hope and disbelief. I followed his gaze to see what had struck him into such a clear display of emotion, there for anyone to see.

In the fore of the crowd, a girl stared up. She was maybe three or four years younger than us, with dark brown skin and a sweet round face, and black hair that floated around her head like a halo. She had both fists pressed against her mouth, as though trying to crush the sound of her squeal, but even that couldn’t hide the huge grin stretching across her face as she looked back at Aaru.

My heart twisted—with jealousy, at first, as much as I hated to admit it—but then I realized who we were looking at.

Safa.

Suddenly, I remembered this girl from my dragon dreams—all those girls in boats, this one in particular—and I knew why Aaru had been so interested when I told him that part. He’d known, somehow, she might be one of those girls, and only a few days later . . .

My chest tightened as I scanned the crowd, but some people were never hard to find. I saw him immediately. Altan.

Altan was here.

Aaru had sent Altan after Safa.

And Altan had done it.

Then more familiar faces stuck out to me: warriors. Or, rather, the dishonored. Naran was in the lead, but several others stood behind her.

Had Altan retrieved them, too? I couldn’t imagine why. Unless . . .

Aaru had told Altan everything—about the spies, the empire, the high magistrate’s duplicity—in exchange for finding our friends.

I couldn’t be mad, not when Aaru’s face was shining with relief, and just beyond him, Gerel was noticing Naran in the crowd. And not when LaLa and Crystal shrieked with draconic joy and went diving off the ship—straight for Kelsine, the Drakontos ignitus who’d been separated from us back on Khulan. The dragons tumbled together, clicking and roaring with complete happiness.

After only a few minutes, Safa, Naran, Altan, and Kelsine had come aboard the Star-Touched, along with several other dishonored and young girls I recognized only from my dreams. Aaru and Safa embraced, while Gerel and Naran clasped hands. LaLa and Crystal were perched on Kelsine’s back, chittering and preening their larger wingsister, as though updating her on everything that had happened since they’d separated; I could almost hear the awe of such scandals in their tones. Kelsine puffed out smoke and cocked her head, listening.

Altan approached me, ignoring Hristo and Ilina at my sides. The burns LaLa had given him were healed now, but his skin was lumpy with scars. “Nice performance, Fancy.”

I ignored that. “What do you want?”

“To help.” He grinned, lopsided now, thanks to the burn scar, and motioned over his shoulder to the others. “I found an army for you,” he said, “and good thing, too, because I’ve been keeping track of Paorah, and I have some bad news.”