Author's Notes: I'm actually in France right now, and soon will be in Toronto, Canada. Yay! Therefore it may be a while between chapters, but this may help tide some over. Thanks to Little Mage, my beta and dear friend who can bear to read this without corrections!

Disclaimer: I still do not own anything belonging to Tamora Pierce, gods, lands, or publishing grant (I wish!). I do own (checks growing list) Athis, Oran, Mina, Aiden, and all his brothers. If you want them, please ask first; I'll say yes for borrowing anyways.

Mina stood stiffly erect and tried not to breathe too deeply. She would have sworn stone didn't have a smell nor could keep one; the walls of the mages' prison were proving her wrong. The guards weren't much better, and not one had the majority of his teeth. She could feel their eyes on her chest and rear, measuring. Mina's hand clasped more tightly about the shield spell held in a stick in her pocket. The Dean's secretary had suggested Mina bring one when she heard where the younger woman was going. Mina reminded herself to give the secretary something nice soon.

As another guard leered, she corrected herself. Very soon.

"'Ere we are, milady," a helmeted guard slurred. He fumbled with the lock on the heavy wooden door.

"Milady," another guard said, "call us if you need some help. An' trust me, ye look like ye do!"

Almost against her will, Mina turned to stare at the guard. The man smirked, then patted her stomach. "Yer mage friends aren' doin' ye good enough. If ye need some help, we're men enough to do what yer pretty boys can't."

Mina froze, stifling a sigh of relief as she heard the lock open with a clunk behind her. She was never going to come here again without one of the other mages. The guard opened the door just enough to let her through, his short sword at the ready. "If 'e gets bad, milady," the man whispered, "yell a bit an' we come to get 'um." Mina nodded and slipped through the cracked door, feeling the door shut behind her.

And felt something squish beneath her foot. Glancing down, Mina beheld a dark stain spreading through the weave of her robe's hem. A distinctive scent arose from the floor beneath her.

"Well," the cell's occupant said, "I wasn't putting that where I would find it."

Mina glanced up toward the voice and stifled a gasp. What appeared at first glance to be a pile of orange-brown rags in the corner near the barred window shifted, revealing Oran's filthy face. The boyish mage seemed to have aged years in the past five weeks. His face bore wrinkles that hadn't been there before, some half-hidden by the ragged beard on his cheeks. He had grown thin, almost gaunt. Most worrisome to Mina was the dullness in Oran's dark brown eyes. The man had always had a spark of humor and intelligence in those eyes, even for Mina. Now his eyes did not reflect the light at all.

"Oran Kowiin?" Mina asked, searching for the official detachment the Dean had used at Oran's arrest. "Mage Kowiin, I have some questions."

Oran did not look up.

Mina felt a scowl tug her lips, then smoothed out her face again. "Mage Kowiin, I do not wish to be here long," Mina said sharply. "The quicker you answer my questions, the quicker I can leave you be." She waited as the man in the corner shifted, still silent. "Oran," Mina began again, "I need to know what happened to Athis Termari. I suspect she's still somewhere, but I need to know where to look."

Oran shook his head, shivering in the hot afternoon air.

"Oran?" Mina said. The man's shuddering increased. Mina studied the mage, feeling awkward as she hadn't for years. She had liked Oran. She had turned him in, and through that turned him into this wreck in the corner. No! Mina thought to herself. Not my fault. If Oran hadn't bespelled Athis without the necessary approval from the university, nothing would have happened to him. It was Oran's fault.

She quietly walked over to Oran's corner and crouched beside him. "Oran," she said, "you have to tell us where Athis is. It's not in your notes. Don't you want to help Athis?"

Oran gave a shuddering groan. "She's in my dreams."

"What?" Mina said.

"She's there, accusing me. Pointing at me, screaming. I was trying to help her, she knew that! But there she is again when I sleep. And I see her transform, again and again, screaming. My book, written in her blood. Why can't she leave me alone, I was trying to help her…" Oran's voice cracked into silence, arms tight about his knees, face hidden in the remains of his robe. Mina shivered, then stretched out a hand to touch him. Oran shrugged away, jamming himself tightly into the corner of the stone cell.

Mina stood, exasperated. "Oran, Athis is still in need of your help. Now will you say where in this mortal realm she is, besides your dreams!" Mina said.

Oran's shoulders shook. Mina sighed, shook her head, and headed to knock on the door. A quick rap made the door creak open, the leering guards peering in at her and Oran in the corner. Mina shook her head at them and stepped out.

"She's in the mountains to the east."

Mina turned. Oran was still huddled in the corner, but the cracked voice was recognizably his. "She's in a cave in the mountains. Search there." He shuddered again. "Mage Kerma, should you see Athis, I'm sorry." Oran trembled, causing Mina to twitch as the impulse to comfort him appeared and was stifled. "I'm so very sorry," Oran said, and fell silent.

Mina nodded briskly, head reeling. With a quick movement, she stepped out of the room and the cell door banged shut on Oran Kowiin.

Athis trembled with energy. The air smelled of spices and the sea, hummed with the voices of dozens of people about their lives. The water stretched out, blue with white ruffled caps, for as far as she could see. Seems like forever, Athis thought. And I want to get across that place? She sighed to herself, acknowledging that this would be more difficult than she thought. Serves me right for never seeing this place before. Athis relaxed on the flat, whitewashed roof, once again in rapture at the expanse of changeable blue so alien –and yet so similar to- the wide sands and oases of home. Gentle and energetic at once, the Great Inland Sea promised fresh new life. And that was something she needed. Villagers' searches had driven her from her cave, and Athis knew she needed the updrafts and food of the mountains. The desert would leave her grounded, a large lump in a pile of sand. Besides, the only food would likely be camels and the Graveyard Hag's sacred hyenas. Not good options. The lands across the sea, the exotic places of Tortall, Tyra, Galla, and Scanra, promised lonely mountains rich with food. Athis gave a draconic grin. She had always wanted to travel…

However, accommodations for the voyage were proving more difficult. The trip would have been easy as a woman, but as a dragon, there were no kindly merchants willing to rent room on ship or, for that matter, ship rooms large enough to hold her. Athis studied the boats in front of her, guessing how much extra weight they could take. Dragons couldn't be that heavy, but she was a bit big.

Suddenly, Athis's eyes lit on a larger boat being loaded at the end of the piers. A blue and green banner flapped from the mast, with the design of the Tyra merchants upon it. A flurry of dockhands scrambled beside the ship, pushing barrels as if scared for their lives, ducking away from the large, portly man directing them in a loud, accented voice. With a tremble from her head to her tail and a brief check of her invisibility, Athis carefully took off from the roof and glided on the breeze toward the forward mast of the large ship. The winds tickled over her scales, shifting like a large cat about her. One wind gave out, sending Athis ungracefully down atop the forward mast. With a suppressed hiss and an intense shot of magic to her invisibility shield, Athis dug claws into the mast and attempted to twist her tail about it. The deckhands screamed as the boat rocked.

The portly man came at a slow run to the gangplank. "You idiots!" he yelled. "Have care for that cargo! It came from the Imperial Palace itself, you clumsy oafs, and I won't lose an ounce of it from you lazy rotting fish! So get it set in order, the right way!" He strode back to the side, complaining about crazy dockhands whose handling rocked the boat.

Athis sighed. She released her claws from the mast (wincing at the new gouges in the wood) and climbed atop the crossbeam. The sea breezes whipped her wings, forcing her to tuck them carefully to her back. Stretching her neck about to work out the tension of her excitement, Athis watched as the portly man half-waddled up the ramp with a collection of Carthaki and Tyran sailors following, laughing and waving to those on the dock. They quickly assumed their posts on deck, reminding Athis so much of the Emperor's servants she blinked. However, these people laughed as they worked, sang as they hauled lines, and teased the youngest of the crew gently about the duties and the sea monsters to be seen. Something relaxed inside Athis. This voyage would be a good one; he simply knew it.

"All ashore that's going ashore!" the portly man boomed with a thunderous bass voice. The crew laughed loud and hard. With a smile on his round face, the portly merchant shouted, "Come men, the Likalan shall take us home. Heave to!"

The ropes binding the boat to the dock were cast off. Athis delicately balanced herself as the sails came up, causing the Likalan to jump into motion. The men shouted as the ship came free of the harbor.

Athis laughed, looking back down toward the men. And yet….

She looked up. Carthak was fading into the distance, her white-yellow sands and her brown rock mountains blurring from individual places to a child's streaky painting. Athis twisted about the mast to face behind, looking for the golden brightness of the Palace, or the woods before the mountains, or the villages that drove her out. Only a hint of gray village on a nearby mountain peak suggested her life had occurred there. Athis ducked her long head.

Good-bye Father. Good-bye Mother. Good-bye Asha, I'm sorry I never met your newborn, my sister. Good-bye Naveed, little brother, and keep them proud. Good-bye Hana, be a better mage than I am. I know you are.

Good-bye Oran. I love you all, and I miss you so very much.

Feeling stiff and tired, Athis draped herself over the crossbeam and watched the lines of the docks fade away into the blue sheets of sea and sky.

"Now you see, my dear, I told you she would have the sense to head out," the Graveyard Hag cackled, snatching a few dark gems from Jihuk. Aiden covered a snort and pretended to be enwrapped in his chess game, watching as Mynoss dealt both gods a glare before stalking off.

"Now you know," a soft, quick voice said in his ear, "that Mynoss is just annoyed about how the Hag always wins. Swears she must be cheating, rankles the judge alright!"

Aiden glanced up at the lean, red-haired man who directed a quick, crooked grin at him. "Kyprioth, you're not about to do what I'm thinking, are you?" he asked with the low tone he had perfected over the eons to keep the other gods from noticing him.

The Trickster's grin widened. "Watch and see, little one, watch and see." Ignoring the irritated noise from Aiden at the pet name, Kyprioth sauntered over to the Hag and Jihuk.

Jihuk's fierce frown seemed not to worry the Hag not at all. "If you can't risk losing, dear, you shouldn't bet," she cackled at Jihuk. Jihuk raised an eyebrow, dealt her a scowl, and walked off. The Hag twisted about on her staff, studying the grinning young man before her and glancing back at Aiden. The youngest of the Scanran Great Gods shrugged, settling his head on his hand to watch. The Graveyard Hag smirked, then tipped her head back to study the Trickster. "Yes, my dear Kyprioth?"

"You're taking bets on Athis Termari, the one they're calling the Dragon Mage?" the Trickster asked.

"But of course, dearie," the Hag said. "It's been a while since we've had entertainment like this."

"Hm," the Trickster hummed. "Lay a wager?"

The Hag grinned. "What for?"

"Let's say a favor, to be called in whenever."

"And the bet?" the Hag said, her one eye glittering.

"I bet Athis reaches the Roof of the World by Midsummer."

"She reaches the Roof in eight months from Carthak? My dear, I accept."

"Good," the Trickster said with a grin. "I thought you would."

The Hag smiled with a mouth of broken teeth. "I'll be watching, dearie." She started out towards her spot in the courtyard of the gods.

Aiden got to his feet and approached the red-haired god. "I'm not so sure that was wise, my friend," he began. "The Hag is going to win that one, hands-down."

"Ah, but I've an ace up my sleeve," the Trickster commented. He took a sharp look at Aiden.

"Me?" the brown-haired god said in shock. "Kyprioth, my brothers will kill me if I interfere, and you know it! Mother above, this is exactly the sort of thing Yorrad and Scaer would use to keep me here another thousand years." Aiden shook his head, wondering when his two oldest brothers would allow him out of the Divine Realms again.

"Come on, Aiden, you'll never get anywhere if you let your brothers dominate you," Kyprioth said, tapping the younger god on the head.

"Spoken like someone without siblings," Aiden said, ducking away. "And I've got six older ones to worry about. Forget if Mithros or the Goddess notices. No, Ky, not on your life."

"Now, look, Aiden," Kyprioth said, "just use some of that wonderful foresight and strategy you have and find a way around it. I'll even help you. And I know you're interested in this matter."

Aiden sighed. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"

"Nope." The Trickster grinned.

Aiden ran a hand through his hair, looking more like a very young nobleman than the god of wisdom he was. "If I go and look for Athis, see what I could do, would you leave me alone?"

"Deal."

"It had better be," Aiden said with a groan. "Yorrad will have my hide."

"Ah, brothers," Kyprioth said. "Aren't they just wonderful!"

Aiden shook his head. With a subtle glimmer of gold light, he transformed into a small brown hawk and disappeared.

The Trickster settled at Aiden's chessboard, picked up a bishop, and rolled it about. Aiden's help was excellent, but it would take time. Time, however, was something he had.