The Thunderhead

How does one bid farewell to a life? No, not death precisely, for to a wizard years are but soft abstractions. The life I had lived for the years since I had returned from exile, a life mostly of comfort, would no longer be mine. When I returned to it, if ever I did, the world around me would be changed. The children I had now would be grown, even perhaps gone. I could not bid farewell to it without a final journey, and a few reunions.

The true irony was that even when I gathered up my family, I could not gather all of us. My children had already begun to make their way in the world. Threch was first, of course, and he was still on his adventures. Arkohnus had gone next, when he had become Sir Gereon's squire. Sarakiel had wept bitterly when Arkohnus had gone, but she understood the boy was ready for his destiny. I missed him as well. Though I love all of my children, Arkohnus held a special place. He was not my first, but he was the first with one of my mates. Having him away was difficult, and when he did return to us in far Zuunkhorun, it would be as a fully-fledged knight.

All four of my wives were with child and Zhahllaia jokingly referred to this as the new crop. There were certain advantages to having them all at once. That's what I would tell myself when all four were waking us up through the night.

I was, perhaps, unfairly excited about the life inside Maireili, as this would be her first. This would be Miloz, who is not as famous as others of my children, but was a caring man who spent his life making me proud. Lysethe was pregnant with Euvorio and Sarakiel with Zazel. Fascinating how the two of them would be forever associated with Castellandria, and for diametrically different reasons. They were not born there, but so many of Castellandra's leading citizens came from elsewhere. Many might not be aware that the two of them loved each other above all other siblings. Their alleged rivalry was an invention of later generations who insisted that Black Zazel and the Voice of the Crowd must have been enemies.

I insisted we only travel as a family. Tanyth objected, wanting to take warmaids and handmaids, but this was for the eyes of my loves only. We would be perfectly safe, traveling through the Hinterlands to three different parts of Chassudor, none of which were especially dangerous.

We went to Iarveiros first. Tarasynora was thrilled to receive us. Once again, Sarakiel was wary of her, and Maireili had a similar impression. Tanyth was charmed as she had been the last time. I admit that I was wary myself after learning of Tara's deception, but she was kind and sweet. I was still in love with her, and she knew well how to assuage any suspicion. I think she loved me too in her way, and no matter what else I might have thought, our bodies still fit together like two parts of a whole.

Stellanmark was our next destination. I wanted to meet the children I'd had with the Mythseekers. Alia, Velena, and Xeiliope greeted us warmly. I was grateful that the bad blood with Xeiliope was well and truly in the past. So too was any romance. My relationship with both Velena and Xeiliope was strictly as friends. Alia, though, cornered me alone as swiftly as she could and the two of us rode one another to exhaustion the entire visit, something that amused my wives and hers.

Rina, Hadrian, and Xeilyphon were initially shy, but they were the same age as Sabrael and the twins, and soon all six were playing together like old friends. I also met Velena's new baby, a handsome little lad courtesy of Cull. I was pleased to see how happy the two of them were together. Their home was a lovely little cottage at the edge of the forest, with an expansive witch garden and a few goats and chickens. It was idyllic, and tempted me, but nothing could keep me from my quest.

The last destination was the most important, and it is the subject of this particular chapter. I took my brides to my first home. Of them, only Zhahllaia had seen Burley Shoal and Thunderhead. The others were curious about what sort of place could have produced me. They had heard my stories, mostly dismissing it as a provincial backwater, but that did not stop them from wanting to see it. It was time.

We emerged from the standing stones a short distance from Thunderhead. The sky was gray, the grass a bright emerald green. The path was muddy, winding along the rolling hills, back to the old stone tower that had been my home for the entirety of my youth.

Tanyth pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, shivering. "I thought Castellandria was cold. This is a desolate place."

"It is hardly so bad," Maireili said.

"If I were from the chilly depths, I might think so too."

"This is what it looks like in spring. You should feel the bitter chill off the Gray in winter," I said.

"No I should not," Tanyth huffed. "I long for a normal climate."

"Someplace dry as a bone and hotter than an oven, perhaps?" Sarakiel teased.

"I always used to wonder why barbarians went around in so many clothes. Now I know."

I led them down the path, and soon Thunderhead was on the horizon, poking up into the leaden sky.

"There is Thunderhead."

"It is... grand," Lysethe said, so unconvincingly that Tanyth and Sarakiel broke into laughter.

"Imagine how I felt when I saw it," Zhahllaia said. "Accustomed to the grandeur of the sultan's court, and I see that."

"I would like to remind all of you that I told you neither Thunderhead nor Burley Shoal is much to look at. Or live in," I said.

Tanyth embraced my arm, and Sarakiel cuddled the other side. "It is still good to see where you come from, love," Tanyth said.

"You must have been so lonely," Sarakiel said.

"I was until Zhahllaia," I said, smiling at my oldest companion.

"We found ways to amuse ourselves," she said with a smirk.

"What did you do, Mama Zhahllaia?" asked Abilyth.

"We played alishum," said the djinn promptly.

Belyth stuck her tongue out in disgust. "Alishum is boring."

"You will like it when you're older."

"I hope not."

"Where did you meet my mother?" Belazei asked.

"That way," I said, pointing out to the coast. "Come, we can go there now."

"Shouldn't we greet your master first?" Sarakiel asked.

"The old man knew we were here the instant we stepped out of the standing stones. If he wants to greet us, he's free to. Otherwise, we'll see him soon enough."

I led them to the steep trail that went down to the rocky beaches. Cut into the cliff, it was narrow and steep, and had been a constant path through my youth. Quiyahui streaked into the sky as Oddrin once had, pursued by Eytelis, Lysethe's skymander, and soon they were frolicking over the white-frosted waves. The Gray Ocean lapped at the stony shore, and I was young once again. I saw myself meandering along the shore, collecting shells, peering into tidepools, aggressively doing nothing of import when I did not have to be at my studies.

In those days, I would be daydreaming of Bridda, the baker's daughter. I had never seen anything so beautiful as she. In my provincial way, I couldn't imagine anyone could be so lovely. This was before I met Zhahllaia of course. I nurtured fantasies of marrying Bridda, of being a hedge wizard looking after the people of Burley Shoal. There were many times I thought of the Belromanazar of that world, wed to a baker, raising a small brood of children, and leading a modest life. Such a fantasy can sound strange to those who know me. I never would have been satisfied with such an existence.

Mira and the Swiftblades had shown me what lay beyond this remote corner of the world. I had found Zhahllaia's lamp, and she had nurtured my ambition. As I looked about the beach, my attention fell on a flat rock, right at the edge of the tidal line.

"I met her here," I said, gesturing to the rock. "She was tangled in a net. I freed her, and we... well, you know what happened next."

Belazei squatted down at the spot, running her clawed fingers over the rocks where many years ago her mother had once lay. "That is a trick," she said finally. "My mother told me of it. Find a fisherman's net, tangle yourself up, then wait on the shore. When a man finds you, you can see what sort of man he is."

I chuckled. "And here I thought it was luck."

"No. Mother watched you for months before she decided. This was her final test."

"That is clever. Although dangerous."

"It can be. Far more dangerous, I think, to lay with a man who might abuse one caught in a net. She was right to trust you."

"I am glad she did."

"I am glad too," she said, standing up to embrace me.

"Knowing you has been an unexpected gift." I held my daughter on the shore of the Gray Ocean, not far from the place she had been conceived.

"Father, it's time for me to go."

"Where?"

"I want to return to the sea."

"Forever?"

"No. I like it up here too much to leave forever, but I've been away too long. I stayed much longer than I ever expected to."

"You have a family here."

"I know, Father." She hugged me again. "I've never once doubted that."

"You always have a place with me," I said, squeezing her.

She kissed my cheek, then bid farewell to her little siblings. They wept, and Sarakiel joined them. More embraces followed. Finally, Belazei stripped out of her meager clothing and returned to the sea. She stopped once, right before slipping beneath the waves and raised one webbed hand. We raised ours, and she was gone.

We made our way up to Thunderhead. A mule I didn't recognize regarded us with suspicion from the stables. Until the moment I laid eyes on this beast, I had expected to see old Hob. A foolish impulse, as during my last visit, years before I even went to war, Bridda had told me old Hob was dead. Still, the unfamiliar animal was a clear sign that the world had changed around me. Even this remote place had moved on.

The front door of the tower opened. A young girl stood on the other side, watching us warily. She was perhaps a year younger than Malycent, her hair a light brown, her eyes a pretty blue-green. She was clad in simple robes, like the kinds I had worn when I had been an apprentice here. A moon cat sat by her side, its softly-glowing eyes watchful.

The young apprentice's gaze fell on me. "You are Belromanazar. The old apprentice."

"I am. And you are?"

"Morwen. I am the new apprentice. Rhadoviel said you would come here, once you were done wasting time on the beach." She said this last with an attempt at imitating the old man's deeper voice.

I chuckled. "I wasted a lot of time there when I was apprentice."

"I like it there," she confided. "He wants to meet you in the kitchen." Her eyes went to Malycent, who waved.

"I know the way. Would you be kind enough to show Thunderhead to my children?" I turned to them. "Faustan, Malycent, you're in charge of the little ones. Quiyahui will watch over you."

The two elders sighed. "Yes, Papa," Malycent said.

The little wizard nodded shyly, and soon the children had run off, my feathered serpent pacing them in the sky. I envied Morwen in that moment. To have a playmate my age while I had been growing up there would have been an unthinkable luxury.

I went inside, following the well-worn trail down into the kitchen. Thunderhead had been ancient when I lived there, and in a true reckoning the span of years since then was nothing in its lifespan. Yet it seemed so much older. Perhaps I noticed the cracks, the drips, and the drafts more. Everything was smaller, ruder.

We entered the modest kitchen and while my wives looked about, I settled at one end of the old wooden table where I had eaten so many meals. I looked from face to face and I saw a strange combination of expressions, each one in different proportions. I saw curiosity, of seeing how this place unraveled the mystery of the man they loved, and that was dominant upon Lysethe. I saw amusement, as though such a place could never have possibly held me, which was paramount upon Tanyth's face. I saw sympathy, as she saw herself in this place too, the expression of Sarakiel. In Maireili, I saw all three balanced perfectly on her lovely features.

I sat down at the table, while my wives wandered about the room, looking here and there. Only Zhahllaia stayed by my side, a caress of her presence like soft breath over the nape of my neck. She knew this place nearly as well as I.

The old man came in, his familiar Ephlin, a cyclopus, lay in a jug of water. What shocked me was how young Rhadoviel looked. By any rational measure, he had not aged a day. He had the same ageless quality all wizards had, but his habits and general irascibility had always made me think of him as "the old man." Yet now, as I had aged, as I had seen more of the world, he seemed to me to have a spark of youth to him. The glass jug made a thump as he set it on the table, and Ephlin began to pull himself partly out. I thought I saw recognition in the creature's eye.

"You're back," he said without preamble. "Something the matter?"

"Great wizard Rhadoviel," Tanyth said, bowing. "I am Princess Tanyth of Clan Abibaal."

"Princess?" he grunted, looking at me. "Now you're swanning about with princesses?"

"She is my wife."

"Is she now? When the lot of you stepped out of the standing stones, I thought it might be you. Couldn't be sure. You're bigger. Got that beard too, and that menagerie. And no night eft."

"Oddrin died."

"You still a wizard?"

"I am."

His eyebrows went up briefly before his natural gruffness took over once again. "Suppose I taught you well enough."

"You took a new apprentice."

"Didn't want to. Had to," he said. "No one else around to take her. Why are you here?"

"I am departing Chassudor soon."

"Won't be the first time."

"You have been watching me?"

"I hear things," he said with a shrug. "You make a great deal of noise."

"Yes, well, we're leaving. Maybe for a long time. My wives wanted to see where I came from."

He barked with laughter. "Not much to look at, is it? Everybody's got to come from somewhere, even him."

"May I present them?"

"I know the djinn," he said, "though I never met her proper like. Used to sneak around with her thinking I didn't know what happened under my own roof. The Kharsoomian was what, Tanys?"

"Tanyth."

"Shouldn't be surprised you found one of them. Used to look at the Eroticum Kharsoomium so much I was worried you were going to stick those pages together."

My face grew hot as Tanyth stifled a musical laugh. "This is Sarakiel, a former librarian in the Grand Library at Castellandria."

"You know the Eroticum, do you?" he said.

"I am familiar," Sarakiel said, blushing indigo.

"This is Lysethe, and Maireili."

"A wizard and a ghoul. Don't know if you're brave or foolish."

"Both," Tanyth said.

Rhadoviel cracked a smile that he swiftly banished. "Well, you came here, you met me. Don't have the space for you. Any of you either."

"I planned to stay in Burley Shoal."

Rhadoviel nodded, a shadow passing briefly over his features. "That's a good enough idea. Might as well see the whole area. A corner of desolation just isn't as breathtaking as a whole village."

After speaking with Rhadoviel, I looked about the old tower. The library was as I remembered it, as was the laboratory. Morwen had taken my old chamber, and I was glad someone was using it. I looked under the table and found the heart Mira had carved those many years ago. I wondered if Morwen had found it. If she wondered who had left it and why. After that, we made our way down the muddy track to Burley Shoal.

"He is not the warmest sort," Tanyth observed, drawing her cloak about her. "Appropriate for this bleak place."

"Desolate and open," said Maireili.

"I thought you had been exaggerating," Sarakiel said.

"I like it," Lysethe decided. "It is peaceful."

"Papa, what did you do here?" asked Faustan.

"Learned magic. I spent time down on the beach there. I played alishum with Mama Zhahllaia." I shook my head. "It seemed like more then. It felt bigger then. I had not seen anything bigger, I suppose."

We entered Burley Shoal just after nightfall. I had always known it to be small, but it looked positively tiny. The single muddy track ran up through the middle, separating the docks from the rest of the village. The wharf, barely worth the name, reached into the shallow bay. Fisherman's shacks were arranged in clusters, each but a single room.

I passed the bakery. The doors were closed, and it was dark. I thought of Bridda, how warm and inviting she had been last time. How we'd lain together in the back, the two of us finding unexpected joy in one another. I wondered if she still thought of that night with the same fondness as I, and if she might want to repeat it.

That would have to wait. I went into Burley Shoal's only inn, as cozy as the rest of the town. A few fishermen with weather-burned faces gathered around the fire, drinking their evening pint before shuffling off to their shacks. I recognized none of them. Judging by the suspicious looks they shot at us, we were as unfamiliar. I was grateful that Sarakiel had chosen to wear her amulet, Maireili kept the hood of her cloak up, and Zhahllaia had returned to her lamp.

A middle-aged woman, plump and pleasant looking, called from behind the bar. "Welcome, wizard."

I went to her with a friendly smile. She looked faintly familiar, though I could not for the life of me place her. "You remember me."

"Begging your pardon, my lord, no. Simply that I know a wizard when I see one."

"Is Hagen about?"

Her friendly smile faltered. "You knew my father?"

"I did," I said, immediately feeling cruel. "I am sorry for your loss. He was a good man."

"It was several years at this point. How did you know him?"

"I grew up not far from here."

"At the wizard's tower, I expect."

"I was Rhadoviel's apprentice."

"That would make you... Bel..."

"Belromanazar, yes."

"Burley Shoal is a small place, Master Wizard. We've heard tales of your exploits."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes, the matter with the dragon is a particular favorite."

"The dragon?"

"I don't tell it well. If Elward was here... what am I saying? You lived it! I suppose you'd like the room?"

"I've stayed there before," I said. "I wasn't sure if it would fit all of us."

"It'll be cozy," she said pleasantly.

"We'll take it, and if you would be kind enough to send up whatever the kitchen's making?"

"Same thing it made yesterday, and the day before."

"Fish stew, like I never left."

As we made our way to the staircase that led to the inn's single room, Faustan and Malycent came up next to me.

"Papa?" Malycent asked. "What dragon?"

"I think she was confused."

"You met a dragon once," Faustan said. "Quiyahui's mama."

"She wasn't a dragon. Closer to a goddess."

"I see why she was confused," Malycent said.

The room was cozy, but we managed. I felt like a fool with how happy I was, but I understood something important in that cramped room, surrounded by the sleeping sounds of my family. Home was not Burley Shoal. Home was not Thunderhead. It wasn't even Azureview. Home was the lot of them.

I woke early the following morning. I wished we had chocolatl, but this was the far end of the world. It wouldn't grow in Rhandonia. I had never heard of it until my time across the world. I crept out of the room, careful not to awaken my family.

In the predawn light, I made my way out into the street. A few of the fisherman were already loading themselves into boats, ready to ply the Gray. Smoke came from the bakery's chimney, and I found myself drawn to it. I told myself that I would need to purchase bread anyway. My true motive is transparent to any who read this. I wanted to see an old paramour.

I entered the bakery, expecting to see Bridda's smiling face, exactly as I had left her that morning years ago. Instead, a man came out of the back. He was young, though aged by a lifetime of hard work. He had a pleasant face, bright blue-green eyes and a full beard. His chest and arms were broad, and he wore an apron over a tunic and breeches. I hesitated, because there was something familiar about the man.

"Good morning," he said. "The first loaves are almost finished."

"I'm sorry. I was looking for Bridda? Bridda the baker?"

"Mama!" he bellowed.

The woman who emerged from the back was like a shadow of what I remembered. She had been pleasantly plump when I saw her, though she had called herself fat. Now I could not deny that descriptor. Her blonde hair had gone entirely gray, and winkles collected at the corners of her eyes, her mouth. While I was gone, Bridda had gotten old. Although in isolated moments, in expressions, I could see her as she was when I had loved her.

"Belromanazar!" she exclaimed when she saw me, coming into the front of the shop and wrapping me in a strong embrace.

"Bridda. It's good to see you." I held her, recovering from my momentary shock.

"Is that why you looked like you saw a ghost?" she teased. She turned, unwilling to take her arm from my waist. "Galfrid, this is an old friend of mine, the wizard Belromanazar."

"My honor, sir."

"The honor's mine," I said, shaking the man's hand. His grip was powerful and sure.

"Come, Bel. Let's have a walk. Galfrid, you can watch the bread."

"That I can, Mama."

She led me outside onto the road, stopping short as Quiyahui came down and coiled before her. "Don't be frightened," I said. "My familiar, Quiyahui."

"I liked the little night eft better," Bridda murmured.

Quiyahui took the hint and slithered into the sky, coiling on the roof of the bakery and remaining there. Bridda took my arm and we began to walk.

"You named him for your father," I said, unable to speak on anything else.

"I remembered how well you spoke of him. I thought it was appropriate."

"He seems a fine lad."

"He is. I was a little nervous when he came out looking like your twin, but Elbrin never noticed. Or if he did, he never cared."

"Where is your husband?"

"Lost at sea, many years ago."

"I am sorry."

"It was sadly inevitable. I knew that when I married him."

"What of your other children?"

"Gerold is a fisherman. Enna is... you're not getting anywhere near Enna." She laughed.

"Why so?"

"She is too much like me, and I'll not share a love with my own daughter. That sort of business is a matter for those heathens across the sea." I didn't ask which heathens or which sea. To one from Burley Shoal, the world was one great undifferentiated mass of the unknown.

"That bad, hmm?"

"Three children by four men and still not married."

"Three children by four men?"

"Oh, yes. We're not certain the parentage of one. Doesn't look like either option too much and they both claim him. It's been quite the scandal here."

I laughed. "But Galfrid."

"He followed me into the family trade. Oh, he's a fine boy, Bel."

"Does he know?"

"No. Although I saw the look he gave you. He suspects, and that certainly clears up another mystery."

"Which was?"

"Galfrid married Adalbert's daughter. Remember him?"

A memory sparked in my mind. "He made the garum?"

"That's right! Well, I said that no son of mine would marry a woman smelling of fermented fish guts, but Galfrid has a mind of his own. Sometimes, anyway. Married Adelle, and, well, she is not as objectionable as I feared. All of her children are his children, if you follow me."

"So she has something on you."

She gave me a slap on the arm. "Hush, you. You were one of the foul tempters who seduced me." She sighed. "I still think of that night often."

"As do I."

"Yes, well, she's given him three children and she's big with their fourth. I fear he got something from me."

"And me."

"We wasted our youths, didn't we Bel? We could have been spawning like salmon instead of you giving me those longing looks and never speaking."

"I think of that sometimes too."

She was silent for a few beats of our hearts. "The mystery, yes," she said, returning to the previous subject. "Well, their first child was born, and what should be perched on the cradle? A moon cat, looking after her."

"A moon cat? Hold."

She nodded, seeing the recognition in my eyes. "You've met her. Little Morwen was born a wizard, just like her grandfather. We did the proper thing and notified old Rhadoviel and he took her in to teach the craft. We don't mind so much. The old man lets us visit when he's a mind to, and he sends her down here on errands. We miss her, but it's for the best. Galfrid hopes she becomes a hedge wizard, but I know what kind of man her grandfather is. I am fairly certain Burley Shoal will be too small for her before long."

"I should have known," I said, shaking my head.

"Probably," she agreed. "Although she looks as much like her mother as she does her father. Galfrid, though. You could hardly miss the resemblance."

"I did not realize I had been away so long. The years have a way of..."

"Blending, one into the other. I know. I mark time by the aches in my body, the wrinkles on my face. You've no such markers. And for a wizard, I imagine the world can be more interesting than this little corner of it. Why are you here, Bel?"

"I am leaving Chassudor for a time. I wished to show my wives the place I grew up."

"Wives?" she asked, her eyebrows raising. "You've wives?"

"Wives, concubines, whatever you may want to call them."

"Children?"

"Oh yes. And more on the way."

She held my arm, leaning her head into me. "I wish we could have known each other better, Bel. But you have been a good in my life. If nothing else, you gave me Galfrid."

"If he wants to speak with me, wants to know who I am, he is always welcome."

"I appreciate that. I think... I think he will not. Knowing will be enough for him. In that way, he's more like me. Morwen, when she learns, she will want to know. And believe me, she is sharp as a new fishhook. She will figure it out before you are ready."

"She too is welcome."

We were silent as we strolled through the awakening village. "You thought to seduce me again," she said softly.

"The thought crossed my mind."

"I will not lay with you. I want you to remember that night we had. It was perfect. Let it stay untouched and unsullied. Let me live there, with you."

"You're a wise woman, Bridda."

"It took fifty years, but I might have finally learned a thing or two."

We returned to Thunderhead that day. I never introduced Bridda to the others. It felt cruel, as though I was mocking my immortality. I told them who Morwen was, and they agreed to return swiftly. When Morwen met us at the door, I saw the resemblance. When she played with her aunts and uncles, it was with family, although none knew it. I went into the tower alone, finding Rhadoviel in the kitchen, eating bread and cheese.

He looked up at me. "Knew the baker's boy was your whelp the instant I laid eyes on him."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"You'd find out for yourself soon enough."

"You're teaching my granddaughter."

"You're welcome for that." He paused, slicing a piece of cheese from the wheel. "She's not a bad student."

"That was surprisingly kind."

"I'm not as bad as all that," he chided. "You turned out fine, with that menagerie of wives and all those children. Dressed in elven finery, and I sense magic on you. That ring and... something else. A weapon perhaps? Yes, you've come back covered in wealth and glory."

"I shouldn't expect you to understand why this might irritate me."

"You think I'm heartless."

"You were certainly never an affectionate parent."

"I am not your father, am I?"

"Who was my father?" I asked suddenly. If I was truly here to see where I had come from, that would be the next obvious destination. It was a sudden pain that I had long thought resolved. "The ones who gave me up."

"I suppose I should have been ready for that question." He got up, finding a barrel of the beer they made back at Burley Shoal and drew us both a mug, setting mine down in front of me. He sat back down. "Drink up. You'll want some beer in your belly."

I sipped the beer. After growing accustomed to wines from Saumont, I assumed I would find the beer unpalatable, but no. This was the taste of my youth. Something in it would always speak to me. "Tell me what you're going to tell me."

"I've been lying to you your whole life, lad."

"Lying?"

"Never was a house. Never was a kindly miller, so far as I know." He drank deeply. "I told you the story as I wished it happened, even though I knew, somewhere I knew, you'd eventually want to know and I wouldn't have the stomach to lie."

"You lied once."

"There's a difference in lying to a little boy to shield him from some horror and lying to a grown and blooded man on a question honestly posed."

"Tell me then."

I steeled himself, taking another gulp. "Wasn't too far from here. North, where the forest begins to get thick. I was out hunting for mushrooms. I was poking through roots and I look up, and what should I see but a night eft. Creature flits away, then stops, comes back. I figure pretty quick it wants me to follow. Takes me to a path through the woods, and what do I find, but a caravan. Butchered. Never knew who done it, nor why. Wasn't a single survivor to ask. The eft isn't stopping. Leads me to a tree not far from the carnage, and tucked there in the roots, a baby."

"Me."

"You. Not a regular baby. Knew that too. No, not that you were a wizard. That much was evident with the night eft, but you never made a sound. Quiet as a mouse. Suppose if you weren't like that, you'd be dead along with the rest of the caravan. Well, I had a task then, didn't I. Most sacred law our kind has. I took you back to Thunderhead, hired a wet nurse from town. Doe-eyed thing, she was. Dim as a foggy winter day too."

"I think I remember her." Maybe I did, or perhaps my mind merely gave me an image of her.

"Could be. She asked me your name, and I told her the first thing I thought of."

"Belromanazar was the first thing you thought of."

He shrugged. "He was the dragon used to live in these parts. Had an island out there, used to prey along the coast. Foul tempered thing. Brought the storms with him, he did. I had to slay him. Still, I respected the beast. One must always respect a dragon. Thought this was a fitting tribute."

I sat with it. The name, the truth about where I had come from. I was a blank. So many of the people I had known ascribed importance to that, but where there should have been a past, for me there was nothing. I was a foundling with a borrowed name, saved because an old man had a taste for mushrooms.

"I know, lad. Not what you wanted to hear. Probably good I didn't have to name your granddaughter, hmm?"

"You are treating her well?"

"Well enough. The girl's family comes here often, and I let her have time with them. I'm growing soft in my old age."

"That surprises me."

"You think I've never loved."

"I would stake my life on it."

He smiled. "That's a bet you'd lose. Of course I have. Why do you think I settled here? I loved a fisherman from Burley Shoal. We were happy for almost a century, but fishing where there's a dragon is never a recipe for a long life."

"Why did you never look for another?" I asked, my voice softening.

"Not all of us are like you, lad," he snorted. "Five wives? Ostentatious, that. No reason you would need so many."

"Done for love, old man."

"More fool you. I slew a dragon for my love. What will you do?"

"You don't want to know."

"Just do it far away from here, won't you? The one thing this place has is the peace and quiet."

I made my way down to the beach. My family remained behind, my wives watching the children play. I had to be alone.

I walked out onto the flat rock where I had taken Thalalei and I sat. I stared out over the Gray Ocean, and it looked like it had when I was a child. So much time had passed between that day and this. I turned Zhahllaia's lamp over in my hands, reading the inscription in Abbih, Mighty King, this lamp is the prison of Zhahllaia the Enlightened. Call her forth and she must obey.

"Zhahllaia the Enlightened," I said softly.

The lamp billowed out its smoke over the rock, and the shape of my love stepped from it, becoming it. Tiny and elegant, she was art, a vision of beauty from a long-fallen empire. Her wide gold-flecked eyes, with their alluring slant, were filled with love.

"You have come a long way," Zhahllaia said as the smoke vanished. I looked down at her bare feet, with her dainty toes, up to where the bracer enclosed her delicate ankle. The ornate bronzework was exquisite, like the rest of her. My gaze went to her legs, smooth and bare, her olive flesh glittering with the faintest metallic tinge. Then to her hips, where the iliac points of her pelvis lightly pushed against her skin. Here, the first of the tiny golden chains hung in concentric loops over her hips, where I longed to hold her against me. My gaze fell to her modest mound, bare and proud. I wanted to kiss her, to fill her with impossible joy.

"And I am back here," I said wryly.

"Why the melancholy, my love?"

"You don't often call me that."

"I spent a millennium alone, and before that, I was an object of amusement. Such emotions are not easy for me."

"I know. That is why I treasure them so."

She sat next to me on the rock. Where the warmth of a human woman would reach beyond the space between us to enfold me, instead I felt something like a cool breeze, yet motionless. She reminded me of a piece of copper that had lain too long in the dark.

"I did not see this for myself either," she admitted. "When my wishes were exhausted, I assumed I would be forgotten. That is the dark fate of we djinns. We are used, released from our prisons only for a purpose, and then we are lost."

"I wondered why you were so eager to reshape me, a mere apprentice."

"Yes, my motives were partly selfish, but they soon became more. I fell in love with you, Bel. I love you still, and I know you love me. You cannot hide it, and you never bother to try. I have value to you beyond measure, where to my old people I was garbage to be forgotten."

"I feel myself on the precipice, Zhahllaia. What we mean to do, there will be no going back. If all goes as we plan, we will fill more graves than a plague. We will be a lamentation."

"For the Heacharid Empire, who is already a lamentation."

"Not everyone who dies will deserve it."

"Such is the fate of the world. This is far nobler than many of the conquests of Qammuz, and when this is over, you will rule a kingdom. You will bring the Heacharid Empire to its knees."

"If all goes as we plan."

"Maireili and I found the perfect one. I will not tell you not to fret. I think trepidation before we reshape the world is a noble impulse. I think if you felt nothing, you would be unworthy of the power you will shortly seize." Her hand found mine, the touch like the breath of a lover over the nape of my neck.

"I'm still the boy from this place, Zhahllaia."

"Yes, and you will always be him. But you are also the Dreadstorm. You are also Ashuz the Blackspear, you are Farmer. You are the feathered serpent. You have already lived many lives, love. You will live many more, and I will be at your side."

"I want you." My need for her was overpowering. My staff strained against my robes. Her beauty was only the barest hint of her true loveliness. Her words were precious, all the more so because they were exactly what I needed to hear.

Her eyes, always mysterious, were smoky with desire. "You want your concubine?"

"I want my wife."

"I am your wife. Your concubine. Your slave."

"My wazira. My partner."

"Show me how you love me," she said. "Show me what you would do to me if we were both flesh." Her right hand crept down her body, over her smooth belly. Her fingertips caressed the thin chains that held her, briefly lingered on the golden ring that anchored them, before continuing their path. She brushed over the modest cleft of her sex, her juices only beginning to shine from between her petals. Her other hand went to her breast, gently toying with her nipple. I watched, mesmerized, as her clever finger dipped between the folds, teasing the moisture from her body. She was adept at these shows, for that had been her purpose at the sultan's court when she wasn't granting her wishes. She knew well how to pleasure herself and drive me mad with desire.

I opened my robes, revealing my staff, turgid and shining. I caressed myself, matching the rhythm of her hand. "Come here," I said.

This was the way we used to lay together, our first clumsy attempts at loveplay. Foolish to think of her as young, as she was already a relic of a long-dead civilization by the time I was fortunate enough to meet her, but we were so inexperienced then. I had only one night with Mira, and Zhahllaia had never been touched, only used as a pretty diversion. When she pleasured herself, it was as much for the amusement of others as it was to slake a need inside herself.

She knelt over me, my staff awash in the cool touch of her body. The delicate sensations crawled over me like the brush of fingers, a breath from my flesh, almost a tickle but sweeter and subtler. I found myself wishing I could hold her like a mortal man, to fill her with my body and take her with aching strokes. I vowed that I would find a way to do this. I had not the power yet, but I would not accept a world that I could not. I reshaped the world; I could have this. I stroked myself, my touch light.

My caress floated over her hips, where I watched her muscles flex, thrusting to meet my own phantom thrusts. My eyes met hers, and I saw love in their gold-flecked depths. I leaned forward, my lips brushing hers, the tingle sending a shiver through my body. I watched her swirl her fingers over her pearl, then dip between her petals, filling herself as I wanted to.

"I love you, Zhahllaia," I murmured.

"I will always love you, Bel."

I took my hand from my staff, bringing it to her cheek. She turned, nuzzling my palm, the shivers of her touch dancing through my body. She rose and fell, her movements growing jerkier. Her eyes were hooded, her lovely mouth open.

The soft boom of thunder echoed between us and her eyes opened wide. Clouds bloomed over where we were joined, gray tendrils snaking over her like a kraken dragging a ship into the depths. Lightning slithered along the coils. Zhahllaia hissed in pleasure as the skyfire stroked her ineffable body. A claw of lightning would touch her smooth bronze flesh and she would shiver, her hands caressing her soft breasts.

My senses expanded, as they had with Errishti, with Varanaya, with Ksenaëe. I felt Zhahllaia, not as a being to touch, but as one of pure magic, the gap between matter and will bridged by desire. Her chest heaved as she leaned back, rolling her hips against the storm. The tempest reached into me as well, the pulse of its power ringing through my body, bringing me to her.

We rose from the rock, pillowed under the soft cloud. The rumble shook us as we went up into the air. Below, the Gray Ocean crashed into the rocks, playing the music that had lulled me as a child, the ones I listened to as Zhahllaia and I first explored one other. These were as close to me as my own heartbeat.

Her brow furrowed, she leaned back further. Her small body was perfect, it always was. I needed to kiss her. We were both so close, our bodies and spirits were entwined, the pulsing storm connecting us. Yet she was still maddeningly out of reach. My desire for her could have torn continents asunder, but it could not touch her.

Then Quiyahui was with us, swirling up from the water. I had not noticed her approach. She encircled us in her feathered coils, lightning playing over her from the storm between us. The sky above echoed our lust as the gray clouds rumbled, the first talons of lightning stalking over the water. Rain refused to fall overhead, but I could feel it straining against the clouds, needing to fill the ocean.

Then, the coil was not a coil but an arm. A bare human arm, its skin blue-white, the feathers gone. Quiyahui had somehow assumed her human form in the day. I would not learn the price until later, when she did not take human form for a full year, and I was even more grateful to her for this kindness then. Her body was behind Zhahllaia's, her chest pressed to the djinn's back, her hands running down her arms. I understood what she was. She was my bridge to magic, and thus she would serve as bridge here. Neither wholly of this world or the next, Quiyahui was a being who defied classification. Her arms spread wide, she embraced Zhahllaia with her body. The djinn moaned, arching herself back to the coatl's attentions. Quiyahui's mouth went to Zhahllaia's neck, kissing and nibbling, her body mirroring Zhahllaia's own undulation.

What was an infinitesimal distance was gone. I looked for where Quiyahui caressed the djinn, where her mouth found her, and it wasn't there. Merely that trembling blue-white flesh against the bronze of the djinn, each moment less and less of the former. And then Quiyahui was gone, somehow inside the djinn.

Zhahllaia's eyes and mouth opened in an ecstatic gasp, and she shook with the first wave of bliss. Lightning crackled all about her, thunder caressing her with its sound. Clouds explored her, revealing her lovely body in blinks and kisses.

I felt the unmistakable sensation of my staff entering the soft folds of a woman's sex. Yet instead of a sultry embrace, I felt the cool caress of a breeze. Zhahllaia stared at me, in blissful wonder. I thought it must be Quiyahui, and I was feeling her, but I knew her well. I knew the feathers that covered her cleft, and I felt only the smooth skin of the djinn against me.

"Oh, Bel!" she gasped. "I can feel you inside me!"

"I feel you too, my love."

She moved now with glorious purpose, lifting her hips, and pushing them down hard to take every inch of me. The storm boomed over her skin and she shuddered with pure bliss each time. I wanted to make this moment of ecstatic joining last for as long as I could. We had been wanting this, and here, we had been given another step to finally being together as we always wanted. I held back the rain with all my strength, taking her with deep, hard strokes.

"Oh!" she managed one last time, as she took me to the hilt. Quakes tore through her body. I felt her sex grip mine, one final push that was all I needed. The hot seed rushed form me, spurting into their bodies, Zhahllaia and Quiyahui, one in that moment.

In reflex, I reached out to caress her, and I was shocked when my hand rested on flesh. Cool flesh that gave me the same sensation of breath, but flesh. I touched Zhahllaia's belly. She looked down at me in amazement, momentarily forgetting that I was inside her.

"Bel?" Zhahllaia asked.

Then she shuddered once, and Quiyahui pulled herself from her. Once again a feathered serpent, the magnificent beast slithered into the air, leaving Zhahllaia and I entangled, but no longer truly touching. Our moment had ended.

She smiled wistfully. "I suppose that was too good to last."

"It won't be the last time," I vowed.

And just then, the clouds broke overhead, freeing a clattering rain across beach and waves. Laughing, I retrieved my clothes from the rocks and made my way up the cliff with djinn and familiar beside me. I wished I could hold the hand of my bride. Our eyes met, and I saw my thoughts mirrored there.

We rejoined our family at the top of the hill. The rain stopped at the cliffs, and my family was perfectly dry, watching the cloudburst.

"I should have known," Tanyth said wryly. I had dressed but I supposed what we'd done showed on our faces.

"Come," I said. "We can reach the next standing stones by nightfall."

"Don't you want to bid Rhadoviel goodbye?" Sarakiel asked.

"I will send him a bird. The old man will appreciate that. Show him I've mastered some of the subtler gifts."

My children bid farewell to Morwen, and she was sad to see them go. Then we were back on the road. It was a road that led home, and much farther, into an uncertain and dangerous future.