Page 280 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

“Now,” the dragonrider said, “or your leader dies.” Her hand was steady. “The key.”

“Somebody give it to her,” the Golden Empress said, sounding almost irritated by this interruption. “If she wants her beast, let her take it.”

Ghonra stepped forward. If her adoptive mother died here, she would be the next Golden Empress, but Niclays had sensed a filial loyalty from her. She reached under her collar and held up a bronze key.

“No,” the dragonrider said. “The key is made of iron.” The blade drew blood. “Take me for a fool again, and she dies.”

Ghonra smirked. She produced another key and tossed it.

“For you, dragon-lover,” she purred. “Best of luck getting back to the ship.”

“Let me leave unharmed, and I may not have to use this.”

The dragonrider threw the Golden Empress aside and held up her free hand. In it was a jewel the size of a walnut, blue as smalt.

Surely not.

Niclays started to laugh. A climbing, unhinged sort of laugh.

“The rising jewel,” the scholar breathed, staring. “You.Youare the descendant of Neporo.”

The dragonrider stared back in silence.

Tané Miduchi. Heir of the Queen of Komoridu. Heir to an empty rock and a dead tree. It was clear from her expression that she had no idea. Riders were often taken from deprived homes. She must have been separated from her family before they could tell her the truth.

“Take my friend with you,” Niclays said to her suddenly, hot tears of laughter still in his eyes. He nodded to Laya, whose lips were moving in prayer. “I beg you, Lady Tané. She is innocent in all of this.”

“For you,” the dragonrider said, with the utmost contempt, “I donothing.”

“And what of me?” the Golden Empress asked. “Do you not wish me dead, rider?”

The younger woman clenched her jaw. Her fingers wrung the hilt of her sword.

“Come. I am old and slow, child. You can put an end to the slaughter of dragons, here and now.” The Golden Empress tapped the flat of her own blade against her palm. “Cut my throat. Earn back your honor.”

With a cold smile, the dragonrider closed her fist around the rising jewel.

“I will not kill you this night, butcher,” she said, “but what you see before you is a ghost. When you least expect it, I will return to haunt you. I will hunt you to the ends of the earth. And I vow to you that if we meet again, I will turn the sea red.”

She sheathed her sword and walked into the darkness. With her walked the only chance of escape.

That was when one of the pirates fired his pistol after her.

Tané Miduchi stopped. Niclays saw her fist tighten around the jewel, and he felt the slightest tremor.

A wet roar filled the sky. Laya screamed. Niclays barely had time to look up, and to stare at the wall of water that was churning up the beach, before it swept them all into icy darkness.

Niclays went head over heels. His nostrils burned as he breathed salt water straight into his chest. Blind with dread, he grappled with the flood, bubbles swarming from his mouth. All he could see was his hands. When he broke the surface, his eyeglasses were lost. From what little he could make out, the pirates had been flung far and wide, the boat that had brought them here was empty, and Tané Miduchi had disappeared.

“Find her,” the Golden Empress roared. Niclays coughed up water. “Back to the ship. Bring me that jewel!”

The sea withdrew in a rush, as if sucked into the belly of a god. Niclays found himself on all fours on the sand, spluttering, hair dripping into his eyes.

A sword lay before him. His hand closed around it. If he could find Laya, they still had a chance. They could fight their way on to the boat and be gone . . .

As he called her name, he became aware of a shadow. He raised the sword, but the Golden Empress knocked it away.

A flash of steel, and another.

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