Iyesta dipped her wings and curved down over the city. She glided back to the west somewhat until her shadow passed over the empty, abandoned remnants of the outerlying ruins. For some unknown reason the images of Gal Tra’kalas did not extend this far out, leaving the verge of ruins to sink forgotten back into the dust.

Linsha recognized the foundations of the scattered outbuildings where she had run afoul of Leonidas and his crossbow. There was no sign of the centaurs, nor any indication of any patrol, guard, traveler, or wandering undesirable. Out here beyond the habitation of the city dwellers and the insubstantial images of the Missing City, the landscape looked bleak, forlorn, and empty.

A broad open space appeared beneath the big dragon, and she came to land, furled her wings, and dipped her shoulder so Linsha could slide off. Varia flew down, dipping and hooting her thanks.

“One moment,” said Iyesta. “This will be easier.” Linsha backed away to give the dragon some room. Although she had seen this a few times, the transformation never ceased to amaze her.

Iyesta folded her wings tightly against her body, curled her tail around her feet, and pulled her head in close. Closing her eyes, she stilled and focused her mind inward. She hummed a few nameless notes-which Linsha knew was not part of the magic, it just seemed to be the dragon’s way of counting the seconds-then, a dazzling haze enveloped Iyesta from nose to tail. The haze shimmered and coruscated with brilliant sparkles of fiery yellow, gold, amber, and orange-the colors of the fire that smelt brass.

Linsha shielded her eyes and watched through the shelter of her fingers. The haze brightened then shrank, apparently taking the dragon with it. Brighter and smaller it became until it hovered in front of Linsha in a vaguely human-sized glow of sun-bright light. She had to screw her eyes shut against the searing radiance, then in a snap the light vanished. Linsha blinked, opened her eyes, and saw a woman standing in the dragon’s place.

Linsha smiled. The woman, smiling in return, raised a hand and tilted sideways as if she had lost her sense of balance. Linsha hurried to her and helped her sit down on a nearby lump of rock.

Iyesta’s human face lit in another bright smile that beamed from her full mouth, danced in her huge topaz colored eyes, and colored her golden brown skin with a ink hue. Her face was one of the most expressive Linsha had ever seen on a human or anyone else, as if all the exuberant emotions felt by the big dragon would not be contained and projected from her mobile features with blithe delight.

“The world always looks so different from down here.” Iyesta laughed. “I don’t have time to do this often enough to get used to two little legs and an upright body.”

The owl, who had been watching the shapechanging from the air, came to a fluttering landing on Iyesta’s knee. She stared up into the woman’s face and cooed her approval. “Finally, I get to see all of you up close instead of bits of you.”

“Small creature, you are so soft.” Iyesta brushed her fingers over Varia’s head, tickling the owl on the back of the neck and rubbing her palm over the owl’s russet back feathers. “Tactile sensations are something we dragons do not get to enjoy when we assume our true shape.”

Linsha watched them both. Varia’s “ear” feathers lay flat on her head and her eyes were half closed while the woman stroked her wings and chest. She knew other metallics could shapechange like this, and she mused for just a moment about the bronze dragon, Crucible. Did he ever shapechange? She suspected he liked to change into a certain tabby-colored tomcat-bronzes had a quirky affinity for small furry animals. But what, she wondered, would he look like if he changed into a human shape? She was about to ask Iyesta if she knew, when the dragonwoman lifted Varia to her shoulder and climbed to her feet. She took a few tentative steps and this time stayed upright.

“I can walk now. We should go. There is not much time left in the day, and I recall you have duty tonight.”

Linsha groaned and all thought of Crucible backed away into the pantry of her mind for another day.

Night duty, and she still hadn’t had any sleep. She rubbed her eyes and fought back another yawn. If she had to face any more of Commander Remmik’s lectures while in a sleep-deprived state of exhaustion… well, she might not be responsible for her actions.

Iyesta read the look on her face and chuckled. “We will hurry. I will see that you are back to get some sleep before the sun sets. Come. This way.”

With the owl riding on her shoulder, Iyesta strode toward the faded, tattered outskirts of the ancient city. As a woman, she was taller than Linsha by a head, long legged, graceful, and sinewy as a cat. Her brass scales had turned into a garment of sorts that clung to her skin like fine silk and resembled a sleeveless, long shift that hung just to her knees. She wore no jewelry, carried no weapons, and bore nothing more than the owl on her shoulder. Yet she moved with an unspoken authority and sense of self that bespoke danger to any person stupid enough to accost her.

Linsha followed curiously. She had no idea where they were going or why, but she had no fear in Iyesta’s company.

Not far from where Linsha met Leonidas the night before, Iyesta came to the faint outline of a crossroad where long ago a road from the Plains converged with a road from the city. A few stone pavings still marked the workmanship of the long-dead elves. Beside the north road sat a jagged row of low pedestals that had once held up some sort of small statues. The statues were long gone-stolen, broken, or buried under centuries of dust-and only their bases remained.

“At one time, this area was a garden, I was told,” Iyesta said. She swept an arm out toward an area of sand and rock just to the east of the crossroads. “There are the ruins of a large house near that rise.”

Linsha had to take her word for it. There was nothing around her that hinted of a garden of any sort-just scrubby sage, tough sword plants, some skinny clumps of grass, and a few of the cold-resistant cacti that somehow survived the hard winters on this end of the Plains of Dust. Wordlessly, she walked behind Iyesta toward an outcropping of the weathered stone.

From a distance, the outcropping looked like a solid mass of rock thrust up from the soil and exposed by the ceaseless winds. When they drew closer, however, Linsha saw the mass was really a pile of shaped stones collapsed together like a stack of children’s blocks and left to meld together through centuries of sun, wind, ice, and rain.

Iyesta walked up to the base of rock before turning to Linsha. “Please stay close behind me when we go down. There are several guardians in the passages. If they see you with me, they will know you are permitted to pass.”

Iyesta passed Varia back to Linsha, then hooked her fingers around the edge of a large block of stone and pulled it sideways as easily as opening a door.

Linsha peered at the dark entrance and whistled appreciatively. The stone had hidden a doorway neatly carved and shaped behind the pile of rocks. A stone stairway led down into the darkness.

Linsha laughed. “Don’t tell me. The Missing City has mysterious underground tunnels, too.”

Iyesta half-turned, her eyes sparkling. “Of course. What old city doesn’t? There are always old sewers, foundations, old storage rooms, ancient waterways, secret tunnels, or hidden labyrinths under any self-respecting city. Come and see mine.”

The dragonwoman stepped aside and gestured to Linsha to move quickly into the gloom. Linsha hurried to obey. She stepped down the broad stairs, brushing her fingers on the damp, cool stone. Behind her, she heard Iyesta pull the huge stone back into place. The light dimmed, but it did not vanish completely. Cracks and small gaps in the crumbling heap of stone allowed some sunlight to leak into the stairs.