I needn’t have worried about Seyzhavye.  Contrary to my expectations, a neat pile of blankets on the floor testified to her presence in the room, and the curtains were drawn back, bathing about two square feet of the floor in radiant golden sunlight.  I was feeling much better than I had the previous night, and was also ravenously hungry.  I quickly got dressed and wandered out in search of Rhisiart.  He was nowhere to be seen in the inn’s main room, so I had breakfast instead, which consisted of what appeared to be last night’s leftovers reheated, but they still tasted pretty good.  I was able to get tea again, and this time it was asthi.  It seemed to be oversteeped, but it did its job, and I was feeling about 92 percent normal when Rhisiart showed up.  “Lady!  I am glad you are ready.  The man who will show us to the dragon’s lair is here.”

“Oh good,” I said vaguely.  Well, at least I’d had a good night’s sleep and a good meal before having to deal with this.

The man himself was youngish and not bad looking, and with excessive bowing and thanking me, introduced himself as the brother of the man I’d supposedly saved last night.  My attempts at denying any great role I’d played were in vain, and he said that guiding us was the very least he could do.  Rhisiart and the rest of his men stood by patiently through all this, and eventually I deflected the man into his original purpose.

He walked beside my horse as I rode alongside Rhisiart at the head of the small column, and kept up a constant stream of talk about anything and everything until I wished I dared magic myself some earplugs.  Rhisiart was ignoring him completely in favor of looking alert and keeping watch.  I began to envy his apparent disregard when finally, out of sight of the village and up a long and dusty cowpath, the man halted.

“I dare go no further,” he said, beginning to look nervous.  “My lady, I have a family.  The lair of the beast is only a minute’s walk that way.  See, already you can hear the roar of the waterfall.  I have led you thus far.  Let me go now.”

“Okay, sure,” I said.  We could find it from here, couldn’t we?  Nearly before I’d finished the words, he had bobbed a last bow, and with a “Fates ward you”, he was gone.  Rhisiart frowned.

“I like this not, lady.  No sign of your stray tribeswoman this morning, and now this man leaves ere we catch sight of the creature’s home.”

“What, do you think the villagers are conspiring with Seyzhavye and the dragon to ambush us all?  I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for her being gone, and he probably was just scared of the dragon and didn’t want to get any closer to it than he had to.”

Rhisiart looked unconvinced.  “Be that as it may, I still like it not.  Is it your wish that we continue?”

“It is what we came to do,” I said, though I was feeling pretty unsure at the moment.  If the dragon was that fearsome…  I mean, it had apparently incapacitated Meluryn in some way, and that would take some doing, by my judgment.

“Very well then.”  Rhisiart nudged Sunheart forward, and I followed.  It didn’t take nearly as long as I had hoped to come out of the surrounding trees onto the shore of a lake.  To our right, a few hundred yards away, a waterfall thundered down some cliffs that had been invisible through the trees.  It was rather lovely, but I would doubtless have enjoyed the sight more if it hadn’t been for the large claw and drag marks in the damp lake shore.

One of Rhisiart’s men dismounted and knelt beside the tracks.  “They are from the worm,” he said, as if any of us had needed a second opinion.  “None too old either.  See how the water pools in them.”

Great.  Not only was this a dragon, but it apparently enjoyed swimming as well.  “Um, if that thing likes water so much, should you be standing so close to the lake?” I said tentatively.

“No fear, lady.  These tracks come out of the water.  The beast is not here.”

“Um…”  My mind went back to every horror movie I had ever seen.  “Couldn’t it have gone in somewhere else?  Or if it is out there somewhere, why are we standing here where it could jump out and eat us at any minute?”

Rhisiart issued a few orders, and most of the men split into sentry groups.  A few, Rhisiart included, dismounted and examined the tracks further.  I joined this group, curious to see real dragon tracks for myself.  They weren’t that impressive really, except for sheer size.  One toe was approximately the size of Rhisiart’s boot.  I wondered what I’d gotten into, since from everything I’d read, we weren’t really equipped for dragon hunting.   No spears, no bows, no fire-proof lotion, no heroes with legendary swords.  I quickly tired of their conversation and dropped back to lean against my mare, who whuffed softly at my sleeve before resuming her search for anything edible within her neck’s reach.

“Sorry, girl,” I said, patting her shoulder.  “No treats here.  Maybe when we get back to town, okay?”  She ignored me.  I began finger-combing her mane, then braiding it.  I never had been very good at braiding.  The plait came out loose and uneven, and started unraveling as I watched.  Rhisiart was still talking to the trackers.  One of the scout parties was out of sight, while another looked around the base of the waterfall.  Suddenly, one of them straightened and called toward us, but before anyone could do anything but look up, something whooshed up from the water not far from where Rhisiart stood.  As the spray settled, I realized it was a long, scaly neck.  The horses panicked, of course, taking off wildly into the trees.  I probably would have joined them if my mare hadn’t knocked me over in her flight, leaving me sprawled on my back and blinking up at the glittering green-brown scales.

“Oh, crap,” I muttered, not that anyone could hear me.  Rhisiart had drawn his sword and the other men their bows.  Arrows clattered off the scales to land with small splashes in the lake as the creature headed toward us, and I scrambled to my feet, trying to collect my thoughts enough to come up with something to do with my magic.

Strangely enough, though, as it came toward us it seemed to shrink.  The great draconic head looked more and more lizardlike, until when it finally stopped not far from shore, its neck was barely six feet long, instead of sixty.  The men continued to fire at it until it snatched one of the arrows in mid-flight, snapping it in two with shark-like teeth.  “Stop that,” it hissed at them.  My mouth fell open, and the men must have been equally staggered, because they obeyed.

“What is your purpose here, dragon?” Rhisiart demanded, swordtip pointed toward its head.

“I would speak only with your mage,” the creature replied in a voice somewhere between whale song and the shrieking of seagulls.

Oh crap.  What did it want with me?  I stepped forward, though not very much, and hoped the tremor in my voice wasn’t very evident.  “What do you want?”

It seemed to smile, and then shrank even more, transforming into a tanned and muscular blond man whose eyes were the same greenish-brown as the creature’s scales had been.  The man stepped forward onto the lake shore, and he was most definitely smiling.  Smirking, rather.  That was definitely a smirk.  He also didn’t seem to be a big fan of swimsuits.  I kept my eyes on his face, hoping my blush didn’t show.  “Ah, there you are.  Prettier than the last one, aren’t you?”  His human voice was more pleasant than the creature’s voice had been, though it still had a rough edge that couldn’t quite be described as husky.

There was no use in hoping my blush didn’t show any more.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snapped, trying to use sternness to cover my discomfiture and fear.  “Where is the Lord Meluryn?”

“What makes you think I know?”

“He came here last to slay the dragon.  You’re the dragon, apparently, and you’re obviously not dead, so where’s Meluryn?  You better not have eaten him.”  My flare if indignation at that thought was surprising, but gave me a welcome boost of morale.

“Eaten him?”  The man laughed.  It sounded like a wounded fish thrashing.  “Hardly, little mageling.  He is alive and well, if not entirely happy with his current condition.”

“Where is he then?  I demand his freedom.”

“Now, now,” he purred.  “We must observe the pleasantries.  What is your name, mageling?”

“I am the lady E- Elen,” I said defiantly, choosing to use the Lindorran pronunciation at the last minute.  “And you?”

“I am Vylkaudinakriephrion, Lady E-Elen,” he said, eyes glittering with mockery.  “And I know where your lordling is.  What will you give me for that knowledge?  A kiss, perhaps, from a fair maiden?”

“Not on your life!” I said hotly.  “I don’t care where he is, I just want him back.”

“That is more to ask.”  His eyes slitted lazily, like a cat in the sun.  “What will you give for him?”

“I… don’t have much money on me,” I said uncertainly, fairly sure that wasn’t quite what he meant.  “I’m sure if you name your price, his family will be willing to pay.”

He laughed again.  I suppressed a wince at the sound.  “But that would take time, and I am so impatient.  I propose a game.  If you should win this game, then you may have your little lordling.  But should I win, then I will take you also.”

I took half a step back.  I didn’t like the sound of that.  “Uh-”

“Wonderful,” he said, smirking again.  “Him or you it is, then.  I enjoy riddles.  I believe that we shall have a duel of riddles.  I will go first.

Silent or roaring,
Caressing or destructive,
Our ancestors’ breath.”

I blinked.  I loved riddles, but only when I could look at the bottom of the page for the answer.  “Um, do I get to phone a friend?” I asked, pointing at Rhisiart and his men.

“You wish to ask for help?  Surely such a simple riddle should not require the help of so many.”  His smirk had an edge of malice.

“Well, fine then.”  I bit my lip, thinking.  Silent or roaring- that could be anything.  Same thing went for the second line.  Ancestors’ breath- ancestors were dead, though.  They couldn’t breathe.  That probably meant something metaphorical then, some figure of speech I didn’t know.  Breath.  Breath was air, right?  Something clicked.  “The answer is wind, right?” I said, crossing my fingers.

His eyes narrowed in displeasure.  “Correct.  It is your turn.”

I blinked again.  I hadn’t been expecting to have one of my own.  In desperation, I said the first thing that came into my head.  “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

He frowned.  “That isn’t even in the correct form.”

“It’s perfectly correct for where I come from.  I’m not composing a haiku in my head just for you,” I said, trying to ignore the cold sweat breaking out between my shoulderblades.

He was quiet, save for some near-inaudible grumbling about children’s play and dignity.  He fell silent eventually, and the silence stretched on.  I considered my choice of question, thinking it might have been cheating to use a riddle with no answer, but he hadn’t even demanded three guesses, so I felt pretty safe.  Eventually, he spoke.  “Quills,” he growled.

Oh.  Maybe there was an answer.  Crap.  I summoned a smile.  “Pretty sharp, aren’t you?”

He ignored me.

“Friend on battleground,
Born through earth and fire, hard-pressed,
Water kills at last.”

I bit my lip, glancing around while thinking, and my eyes lighted on Rhisiart.  This Vilka- Vilker- oh, whatever his name was must be getting sloppy if the answer was that close at hand.  “It’s a sword,” I said triumphantly.  “What’s black and white and read all over?”  It was an old joke, but he probably hadn’t heard it before.

“You dishonor our contest with what you claim to be riddles.  These are foolish questions, fit only for children.”

“Where I’m from, only children ask riddles any more.”  He looked angry, but he wasn’t wearing armor and Rhisiart’s sword was very close to him.  I felt relatively safe, as long as he didn’t turn back into that monster.

He curled his lip and was silent again.  “Don’t think too hard,” I said cheerfully.

He turned his unsettling eyes to mine and glared.  I didn’t like it; it made my brain feel funny, but I couldn’t turn away.  “Stop that,” I snapped, and I could feel the power in the words, though I hadn’t meant to use magic.

His head jerked back, and I could move my head again.  “Newspaper,” he said, eyes glittering triumphantly.

“Cheating.  You read my mind.”  I scowled at him.

“It is not cheating for my people,” he said, sounding very self-satisfied.

“I’m not your people.  I can’t read minds.  Give me a chance, all right?”

“Very well.”  He still looked smug, but I saw the glint of anger behind his eyes.  “I will grant a boon to Lady Elen the mageling.”

What was it with people calling me that?  “You’re very generous,” I said sarcastically.

He inclined his head to me, equally sarcastic.

“Born in silver light,
Warm colors kill silver soul.
Born again in dark.”

I wouldn’t have had a prayer if I hadn’t just been working on concepts for such a thing.  Oddly enough, Meluryn was going to have a duel of riddles with some monster in the future.  I just hadn’t decided what or when yet.  “It’s a moonflower,” I said, relief flooding me.

He hissed quietly in displeasure.  “Clever mageling.”

I smiled nervously.  “Thanks.  Why is six afraid of seven?”

He scowled, glaring at me, but I quickly looked away, looking again at Rhisiart.  He smiled faintly at me, and for some reason, that heartened me.  I returned the smile, hoping that this one would stump Viky and we could get Meluryn and go home.

“This is foolish, worthy only of children,” he growled.  “I refuse to acknowledge this riddle.”

“Then I win, don’t I, if you don’t answer?  Hand over Meluryn.”

He snarled and began to grow and elongate, but a wild shout made us all jump, and Viky’s expression changed to shock before he crumpled to the ground.  Seyzhavye kicked sand into the wound, carefully wiping the blood from her sword before sheathing it.  “Cheating lying Fay scum,” she said darkly, accent thicker than usual.

I turned away, trying not to gag.  “You just killed him,” I said numbly when I felt I could speak again.

“Before he did the same to you, or worse.  That king was a fool to wed one, and even more of a fool to think his treaty with them would last any longer than was convenient to them.”

Rhisiart began to voice his objection to this, but there was a loud splash from the direction of the waterfall.  We all turned sharply in that direction, hands on swordhilts and bowstrings, and I slid behind Seyzhavye, but the figure that emerged from the lake was fully clad and vaguely familiar.  He coughed up some water, shaking his sandy hair back from his face, and turned in our direction.

“Rhisiart?” he said incredulously.  “What in the name of…”

“My lord?”  Rhisiart sounded every bit as amazed as Meluryn.  “My lord, we have found you.”

“It’s about time!  What has Mother been getting herself into now?  No, time for that later.  I need ale.”  Meluryn plucked a bit of waterweed from his shoulder, flicking it back into the lake, and then noticed the corpse.  “Oh, you killed him?  I’m impressed.  Good show.  Who did it?”

Rhisiart grudgingly indicated Seyzhavye.  Meluryn’s eyes widened in surprise.  “My lady.  I beg your pardon.”  He bowed gracefully.  “I thank you for my rescue.”

Seyzhavye jerked a thumb at me.  “That one is the lady who you should be thanking.  She is a powerful mage who distracted the creature until I could strike.”

Meluryn bowed to me, and I managed a vague curtsey.  “My lady.  I thank you also.  You will be well-rewarded for this.”

“I- reward?  I don’t want a reward.  I just volunteered to bring you back.”  A slight stretch of the truth, maybe, but true enough for the time being.

“Then I thank you for relieving my lady mother’s worry.”  He looked around.  “Where are the horses?”

“They ran off when he showed up.”  I waved vaguely at the corpse, avoiding looking directly at it.  “I don’t think it’s too long a walk back to the village...”