THE DAY AT sea was the most peaceful I'd had since the night of the earthquake. A strong breeze blew from behind, catching in the sails and sending us cutting through the waves. Cristine clambered in the rigging, keeping the sails adjusted right. I had no idea how she was able to see with the wind blowing her hair everywhere.

Nick had disappeared belowdecks to explore. I was standing at the wheel, letting the wind hit my back as I steered us through the channel between Newid Isle and the landmass containing Dourbridge and Bloomingdale. Erik had migrated to the prow of the ship, where he stood, watching the ocean ahead of us. Occasionally he'd call back about rocks ahead or a sudden narrowing of the channel. I had to admit, it was useful to have him up there.

We were lucky enough to have a good wind to push us along at a steady pace. I wasn't sure exactly where we were going next - we were debating between the Iluugazar Plains and Gleeba - but at this rate, we'd reach landfall at either place long before sundown. And honestly, I didn't really care how long it took. I loved sailing.

"Oi!" I called across the deck of the ship. Nick (who had just come up from the hatch), Erik, and Cristine looked back at me. "Where are we headed next?"

"Let's go to Gleeba," Cristine said, smiling dreamily. "I love it there."

None of the others had any arguments. "Gleeba it is, then," I said, and smiled. I loved the desert kingdom, too.

We reached the place where the channel widened as Newid Isle and the other landmass curved away from one another. I steered us northeast and then just east, into a new channel between the Djust Desert and Dourbridge. To the north, the mountains that bordered most of the Djust Desert coast rose up. To the south were lush trees and to the east and west ocean stretched out in front of and behind us. I sighed with pleasure. Beautiful.

The air grew steadily warmer a the mountains to the north grew lower, letting hot breezes from the desert blow our way. It was good that I liked the warmth, I reflected, because we'll definitely see a lot of it here!

As Cristine showed Nick how to adjust the sails so we'd keep the wind in them, the Pride lurched. My head whipped round. Something had hit us from behind.

"Weapons out!" I called, drawing my sword. I had hoped we'd be able to avoid a fight, but I hadn't counted on it. Between the irritable monsters that lived in the ocean and and the increased numbers of them since the earthquake, we had no chance of getting to Gleeba without monster dust on our weapons.

We waited in silence for a second. Then, with several loud splashes, three monsters leapt on deck: two spinchilas and a knocktopus.

Erik and I heaved the anchors into the ocean and ran to join the fight. Cristine had cast Whoosh and sliced through the spinchillas; Nick had smashed the knocktopus over the head. One of the spinchillas spun at Cristine. She danced back, but the spinchilla still managed to clip her head. She winced.

I jumped off the ladder and sprinted into battle, slicing deep into the spinchilla that had attacked Cristine. Its friend clawed at me. I blocked it with my blade.

The knocktopus spat out a volley of spikes. Nick and I ducked behind our shields; Cristine dodged behind the mast; Erik got hit with one on his bare arm and grunted in pain. But it couldn't have hurt too badly, because he raced at the knocktopus and raked both sets of claws across its eyes, scoring deep lines and probably blinding it.

We had a pretty easy time of it after that, and soon enough we were moving again. It was another half-hour or so before we made landfall on the coast. From there, we had about two kilometre's walk inland to reach the walls of Gleeba.

The city was bustling. It wasn't a market like it had been when we'd gotten to Bloomingdale, but there were still merchants out and about. It was nowhere near sundown, but things were beginning to cool off a bit, and the shadows were getting longer. Shade was easier to find than it would have been a couple hours before.

Nick didn't seem big on the heat, although the white silk robe he was wearing probably had something to do with that. "How do these people stand it?" he wondered aloud. "It feels like a brick oven! I don't know why you like it so much, Cristine."

She smiled. "Yeah," she said, "it is hot, but it's really pretty. I mean, just look round! All the desert, and the mountains and the sea way off that way... And the people are really nice. The way they build stuff, too - I love the buildings! And I've heard that their dancers are some of the best in the world, though I haven't yet had a chance to watch a performance."

"Dancers?" Erik asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cristine nodded. "Gleeba's known for its dancing traditions - belly dancing, mostly, which is unique to the area. I've never actually seen it, but it sounds quite interesting. And the dancers are incredibly well-trained. There was one who came to Coffinwell once when I was little - she was a minstrel from here, absolutely brilliant. I'd love to see a performance one day."

I glanced round. "Well," I said, "I think we've all deserved an afternoon off from fygg hunting and monster fighting. What do you say we hang round here for the rest of the day, have supper someplace, and go see the dancers tonight?"

Cristine's face broke into an excited smile. "That would be brilliant! What do you say, Nick? Erik?"

"Could be fun," Nick said.

Erik shrugged. "As long as I do not have to perform anything."

I grinned. "Coward," I said.

He rolled his eyes. "I shall go inquire about the performance," he said. "And then perhaps wander about the merchants' booths. There ought to be interesting wares in such a different place as this."

"Gonna look for what's-his-face too, eh?" I asked. "Vul-whatever, Gleeba's Guardian."

He looked at me smugly. "Acutally, I have already found him." He gestured past me. I twisted to see a dark-haired Celestrian with hawk-like features patrolling the streets with a two-bladed sword. He didn't notice us and kept flying through the city.

I stuck my tongue out at Erik. "Whatever," I said. "Here, Cristine, you want to sing?"


Erik left the others as the two minstrels prepared for another small performance and Nick headed to the church, saying he wished to speak with someone about being ordained. The two boys walked together for a brief while, but Erik remained in the area around the merchants while Nick headed onward.

He browsed among the booths, speaking with the merchants while he did so. It was a simple enough way of gathering information, though in the heat of the desert city he would have much preferred to be indoors. However, the wares were interesting, and speaking with the merchants was an odd experience. Many were from Gleeba and so spoke in a formal manner which, after so much time spent among mortals, sounded nearly foreign coming from a mouth besides his own. Even so, he enjoyed the lack of odd looks that he usually received when people heard him speak.

"May I assist you?" asked the woman in charge of the weapons booth Erik was then standing at.

"Yes, I hope so," Erik replied. "I am searching for a particular fruit."

The woman smiled. "I believe you are in the wrong place for such a thing," she told him. "You may be able to find it at the booth some paces to your right."

"I do not believe it lies in a merchant's booth," Erik said. "It is nearly a unique object - a golden fruit of such radiance that it seems almost to shine. Would you have heard of such a thing?"

The woman pursed her lips, thinking. Then she shook her head. "I am afraid not," she told him. "My deepest apologies. However, there are many merchants here, and all have travelled widely. Perhaps you will find luck in your search if you speak with them."

Erik nodded. "Thank you," he said, and set down the pair of claws he had been examining. They were interesting, but his current pair was holding up well. He did not need a new one.

"Good luck to you," called the woman as Erik walked away. He raised a hand in acknowledgement.

Unfortunately, his luck was no better anywhere else. All he could find was that there had been a peddler with a fruit resembling a fygg in town some days previous. He had, however, overheard interesting bits of conversation about Voluptua, the queen of Gleeba, and the dwindling water supply. From what he heard, it seemed that Voluptua was as fond of luxury as her name suggested - and that she cared little about the effects of her voluptuous lifestyle on the rest of the queendom. If anyone was likely to have the fygg, Erik thought, it was her.

After purchasing some food - he had noticed that their supplies were getting low - he asked directions to the dance theatre and made his was there. As he passed the square where Tammy and Cristine were performing, Tammy glanced his direction. Erik waved and kept moving. Both girls had good voices, he reflected, but Tammy, at least, sounds better in her natural range. He could not say the same for Cristine, as he had never heard her sing alto, but he imagined it held true for her as well.

The interior of the theatre was dark and surprisingly cool. A stage occupied most of the centre of the room. To the right was a counter, behind which sat a somewhat paunchy Gleeban.

Erik decided to speak with him. "Hello, sir," he said, approaching. "I would like to inquire - excuse me, sir!" For Erik had just realised that the man was asleep.

He reached across and shook the man's shoulder. The man woke with a splutter. "What - What!?"

"I am very sorry," Erik said, hiding his amusement. "I was hoping to inquire after four tickets to a performance sometime soon? Tonight, if possible."

"Of course," said the man, reaching for a book. He flipped through a few pages and then paused, running his finger down a column of names and numbers. "Ah - here. You are in luck, young man; we have several tickets left. May I have the names?"

"Erik - k, not c - Tammy, Cristine - no h - and Nick."

The man nodded and wrote down their names. "Thank you," he said, placing his quill back in the inkwell. "The performance begins at six thirty. Give your names at the door and we shall match them to the list. Also, pay when you come in. It is ten gold per person."

Erik nodded once. "Thank you," he said, and left.


Cristine and I sang the last note and bowed as the crowd began to clap. I was beaming. Almighty, I loved this!

As we started packing up - we'd been performing for quite a while by that point - I spotted Erik again, this time coming back from the dance theatre. I scooped up the gold we'd been tossed and headed that way.

"Hey," I said. "Find anything interesting?"

Erik nodded. "I believe Queen Voluptua may be in possession of the fygg," he told us. "And I made reservations for the performance."

Cristine beamed. "Thanks, Erik," she said. "When is it?"

"Tonight at six thirty," he replied. "So I believe we ought to retrieve Nick and go to supper soon."

We headed for the church, but halfway there, Nick intercepted us. So we turned round and headed to the inn for supper.

Cristine and I ordered for everyone, since neither Nick nor Erik knew anything about Gleeban food. As we brought the plates to a table, Cristine asked, "So, Nick, did you find out anything about being ordained?"

Nick nodded, setting down his plate. He pulled out Cristine's chair for her as he said, "The priest here said that the Bishop is going to be at Swinedimples in a few weeks to ordain some theology students. If I can be there at the same time, I'm sure I can ask him if he'll ordain me, too."

"Neat!" Cristine said. "Thanks, by the way."

"So what is this exactly?" Erik asked through a mouthful of meat.

I grinned. "Kitten."

Then I laughed aloud as he spat the food back out on his plate and rubbed at his mouth, looking horrified. "What!?"

I couldn't stop laughing long enough to answer, so Cristine did it for me. "It's pork," she said, giggling. "Almighty, Tammy, that was dreadful!"

"Doesn't stop you from thinking it's funny, though, does it?" I asked, chortling. Nick had his head in his hands, but I could see that he was smiling. Erik was glaring at me darkly. "Oh, please," I said, mocking his glare. "You can't pretend that wasn't the least bit funny. If you'd been able to see your face -!" I broke off, laughing harder.

Erik seemed a bit grumpy through the rest of dinner, and I noticed he didn't eat much of the pork, but I didn't care. That had been some of the best fun I'd had in weeks.

It was getting dark when we left the inn at six fifteen and headed over to the dance theatre. We gave our names at the door and paid ten gold each, and then headed into the darkened, cool room. Through a series of artful dodges and quick sprints, we managed to worm our way up to nearly the very front, where we'd have a perfect view. Cristine and Nick were to my right; Erik was on my left.

And a quarter of an hour later, the main floor darkened substantially while the stage lanterns were lit. Music began from backstage, and, one by one, the dancers made their ways onstage.

I was captivated from the start. Everything I'd heard about how good the Gleeban dancers were was completely true. They flowed together perfectly without ever glancing at one another. They scarcely even seemed to have rehearsed - it came out so naturally, so freely, that it looked as if it was brand-new.
The lights glinted and winked off the jewels set into their costumes, drawing every eye to the motion of the figures. They were absolutely brilliant.

Cristine seemed even more fascinated than I was when I glanced away to look at her. She was swaying slightly along with the music, and I could tell she was itching to try some of the moves out for herself. Her eyes were bright with excitement.

To my surprise, Erik seemed to be absorbed by the performance, too. He was staring at the dancers, wide-eyed. I furrowed my brows. Perhaps the Celestrian had a greater appreciation for mortal culture than I had thought before.

I followed his eyes to a dark-skinned young woman with bright eyes and flashing white teeth - one of the more skilled dancers. She was quite pretty, I decided, with smooth skin, sleek curves, and a very athletic-looking shape.

Then I glanced at Erik again. His mouth was slightly open, though he didn't seem to realise it. I pursed my lips, wondering.

Halfway through shifting my gaze to the floor in an attempt to think, I saw something that made my eyes go wide. My mouth fell open, too, and I had to look again to make sure I'd really seen it. And I had.

I looked between Erik and the young woman again several times, at which point I noticed that the dancer was quite gifted for someone with such a slim figure.

Suddenly, I realised I was angry. Very angry. I glared at the woman - glared even harder at Erik - and then turned and stalked out of the theatre. There was ale at the bar at the inn where we'd ordered supper. I wanted ale.

The lack of sunshine made the city cold, but I was burning. The idiot! All this time he had acted as though he was so far above us - a Celestrian, superior, aloof. He irritated me more than anyone else ever could because of it. But there he was in the theatre staring gape-mouthed at some big-breasted dancer ten years his physical elder, as if he had completely lost his wits!

No, I didn't need an ale. I needed two. Maybe three.

I sat down on a stool in front of the bar. A sweet-looking young woman standing behind the bar drying a mug asked, "What can I get you?"

"What's your strongest ale?"

The bartender eyed me doubtfully, but said, "A local brew called Desert's Throat. But I see no reason why such a pretty thing as yourself would be sitting at a bar drowning herself in ale."

I didn't bother arguing with the pretty bit. "I want a strong ale. So a mug of Desert's Throat, please."

"Are you sure?" she asked me. "It is very potent. I am not sure -"

"I can hold my liquor," I interrupted. "Please, just pour me a mug."

She obliged, filling a mug with a liquid the colour of desert sand. I thanked her and put the mug to my lips. The warm, bitter drink raced past my tongue and cheeks and down my throat as I took a heady draught. Then I sighed and set the mug down, though I didn't let go. "Thank you."

As I took another, slightly smaller, drink, the bartender asked, "So may I ask why you want such a strong drink?"

I made a face. "I think I'll need to drink a lot more before I'm willing to discuss it. Just don't let me out of the building. I might go and kill him if I've had enough."

The bartender didn't say anything, and I took another couple sips. The flavour seemed to be getting better as I drank. I wondered if it was mixed properly.

I wasn't quite sure when, but at some point my thoughts must have become words, because the bartender raised a dark eyebrow. "I suppose this Erik fellow is courting you?"

My eyes went wide. "Oh!" I choked. "Oh - Almighty - no! No, definitely not! I hate him!"

"Oh," she said, confused. "Then why were you at the theatre with him?"

"My friend Cristine," I said. "She wanted to see the dancers, so we all went." I tried to take another sip and realised my mug was empty. I held it up. "Another one, please?" My tongue felt thick and heavy. Vaguely, I wondered why.

The bartender bit her lip. "I am not sure that is a good idea," she said. "Able as you seem to be at drinking, I do not think two Desert's Throats is wise for anyone."

I rolled my eyes and reached for my bag. "Look," I said, "I'll pay for 'em both now and then go up to bed. Almighty, you sound like my father!" My accent was slipping too, getting slower and looser. Meh.

"Your father did not let you drink?"

"Nah. Just didn't get along with me. Didn't really like me to do anything - none of it was stuff that fit in his view of the world." I fumbled with the clasp on my coin purse and finally got it open. "So another mug, please?"

I didn't really remember much after that. At some point, I supposed, the bartender escorted me up to my room; I had a vague memory of stairs, sheets, and a woman's face that for some reason I decided would be nice to kiss. It looked like the bartender's. Before that, I didn't have much - a word or two here, part of a conversation there. The less ale was left in the mug, the less I remembered.

When I finally woke the next morning, I didn't want to open my eyes. I had a pounding headache and my tongue felt strange and fuzzy. A pair of feet pounded across the floor of the room above me. I winced as the noise exacerbated my headache.

Then I opened my eyes and winced again. The curtains were drawn, but enough of the desert sunlight was getting in to light up the room. I rolled over and pulled the blankets up over my head. Light was just as bad as noise.

As my memories of the night before - both vague and clear - returned, I groaned. Then I winced.

And then I groaned inwardly.

This was going to be a long, long day...


Ouch... I hope that description was accurate. It felt painful enough to be, but I wouldn't know - the closest I've ever come to a hangover is a communion cup of wine and a sip of radler from a biergarten. I suppose that makes me a bad psuedo-German. Not only do I hardly speak the language, but I'm it's-your-guess years old and don't drink! Ah, well...

Good luck to Tammy. Let's hope the bar has coffee and cold water as well as Desert's Throat, eh?

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!