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would send some men with us but the response was a resounding “No!” Apparently they had their hands full dealing with an island nation to the west that occasionally sent an invading force against them.
    “Do they know how far it is to wherever Darrym is headed?” I fastened my sewing basket to Shardas’s spine ridges and then sat down in front of it.
    “No,” Luka said. “They’ve never gone that far. But they also believe that there is a land even farther to the southeast that is the home of the gods, and they don’t want to risk the gods’ wrath by trespassing. The farthest anyone from here has gone is two days’ journey by boat, and there was no sign of land.”
    “Two days’ journey by boat is a matter of hours to me,” Shardas said, speaking for the first time since we’d landed. “And Darrym is not a god.” He flung himself into the air.

Dark Forests
    H ow is it that no one in Feravel has ever heard of a country this large?”
    We had landed on a small mountain that jutted from the water just off the shore of a country that was dark with forest. Country? No, it was a continent, stretching in all directions as far as we could see. Great mist-wreathed mountains rose in the distance, covered with exotic trees: dark green and twisted in shape, with odd spiky leaves.
    “I don’t know,” Luka said in a hushed voice. “But without a dragon it would have taken months to get here.”
    “Winter storms would likely have sunk the ships if anyone had tried,” Leontes said. “And if they couldn’t find fresh water . . .” He surveyed the landscape. “And then there are superstitions that keep some people from exploring.”
    “Like that the home of the gods lies in this direction?” Luka snorted. “I’ll wager Darrym and his friends started that rumor themselves, so that no one would bother them.”
    “But why? What are they doing?” I pounded my fist on Shardas’s shoulder in frustration.
    We had found this country, had even found a wide clearing in the trees near the shoreline that was the start of a dragon-sized path and marked with recent signs that Darrym and the others had passed that way. Taking refuge on this mountain a little ways offshore, we hoped to spy on Velika’s captors, but they had disappeared into the forest.
    We were at a loss as to what to do next.
    “We need to go down into the forest and look for them,” I said.
    “But how?” Luka held out his arms. “You saw what the people looked like, Creel. We’ll never pass as being from around here, and neither will the dragons.”
    “Not without disguises,” Leontes said.
    “I’m not putting a spike through my nose,” Hagen piped up. “I’m sorry . . . I’ll do whatever else.” He gave a little shudder. “But no spikes through my nose. And how did they make those white tattoos?”
    Leontes gave a huff of laughter. “I meant the dragons, actually. We can all speak in dragon tongue, but you cannot speak the language of these humans.”
    “But how can we dye your scales?” I looked him over. He was a buttery yellow color with violet streaks, and nearly twice the size of Darrym. “And all the dragons with Darrym are small.”
    “A physical disguise won’t work,” Leontes agreed. “But an alchemical one might.”
    I held my breath and looked at Shardas. Though he had lived with a human alchemist for many years following Velika’s supposed death, he objected to dragons using alchemy. I had thought this was due to Velika’s betrayal by King Milun the First, but then I learned that Shardas’s brother, Krashath, had also used alchemy to enslave their own people. Now I waited for Shardas to object to Leontes’s plan.
    But Shardas never took his eyes off the path into the forest. “What supplies will you need?” he asked Leontes.
    As it turned out, Leontes was prepared for any contingency. Strapped to his back was a large, leather-bound trunk which he had filled with various potions, powders, and tools that were the