You will not drop the fireball!

The yellow stripes shot from Cypress's vacant eyes and joined together, becoming a long-fanged bat of amber light. Ruha brought her hand around, placing the fireball between herself and her attacker.

Stupid Harper! Flames will not save you!

The bat emerged from the fireball, its wings blazing and its eyes glowing with rabid fury. Ruha reached for herjambiya, and the beast was upon her. Instead of rak- ing her eyes with its tiny claws or sinking its fangs into her throat, it appeared inside her mind, a flaming crea- ture of the night, flitting across the starry sky high over her memories ofAnauroch's purple-shadowed sand dunes.

Ruha cried out, but she could not bring herself to flee the dragon, or even to turn away. Cypress was already inside her mind, and trying break contact with him was as futile as trying to escape an unpleasant memory by closing one's eyes. The dragon sat motionless on the floor, his gaze pinning the witch in place as surely as if he had been standing on her chest.

Her only chance of escaping, Ruha realized, lay in dis- tracting Cypress. No sooner did she have this thought than a small brake of saltbush sprouted from the sands other mind. The words of a wind spell rose from the brush like a swarm of sand finches. Cypress's fiery bat streaked down to dive through the heart of the flock, scattering the syllables of the incantation before they could shape themselves. Ruha's arm remained motion- less, the fireball still burning in her hand.

Cypress's bat settled on the surface of Ruha's mind and began to beat its burning wings. Clouds of hissing yellow fume curled from the tips of the fiery appendages and rolled across the dune-sculpted terrain. Wherever the haze touched, the sands themselves melted into rivers and pools of bubbling brown acid. The witch started to feel hot and limp, as though a fever had taken hold of her body, and her limbs trembled with weakness.

For a moment, she feared she had guessed wrong about the dragon's fear of destroying the ylang blossoms, that he merely wanted her to drop the fireball at her own feet.

The bubbling brown pools inside Ruha's head joined and became a lake. The bat dove into the acid, sinking its fangs deep into the throat of some naked thought that was writhing just below the surface other mind. The witch saw Cypress's lips curl into something that re- sembled a smile; then she felt her foot sliding across the floor of the wagon. She tried to stop, but no sooner had the thought taken shape than it dissolved into nothing- ness in the bubbling acid. The dragon had won control of her mind, and now she had to fight him not only for her life, but for the possession other own thoughts.

It occurred to Ruha that this was a battle not of strength or speed, but of imagination, and a rocky island of hope instantly sprang up inside her mind.

Waves of acid began to lap at its shores, filling the air with hissing white smoke and reducing the isle to little more than a sandbar. The witch pictured the sand chang- ing to granite. She felt a strange tingling deep within her stomach, then experienced a momentary burning all over her body, as though she had exerted every muscle at once. The little island hardened into dense stone and stopped dissolving, but Ruha felt her foot slide a little closer to the rear of the wagon.

A deep-throated growl rumbled from Cypress's throat;

then the yellow acid inside Ruha's mind began to churn and froth like a storm-tossed sea. Mountainous waves rose and crashed over the witch's small isle, threatening

to submerge it entirely. She envisioned the island erupt- ing like a volcano, pushing its way higher above the sur- face and spreading immense blankets of molten stone across the lake. Again, she experienced a strange tingling deep within her abdomen, followed by a momentary burning over her entire body. She felt physically drained, as though she had been running for a long time in the scorching sun.

You only anger me. Cypress's voice broke like thunder inside Ruha's mind, and she felt her foot touch the wagon's tailgate. Are untrained mind cannot prevail.

The stars vanished from the purple sky over the witch's growing island of hope. Spears of lightning stabbed at the summit of the erupting volcano, and a few hissing drops of acid began to fall on its slopes.

Then, before Cypress could unleash the full fury of his storm, a pair of familiar forms came rushing across the spicehouse floor.

"Cypress!" gasped Wei Dao. "What do you want here?"

Prince Tang drew his sword and pointed it at the dragon. "You go!" Then he looked toward the door.

"Guards!"

Cypress glanced away from Ruha long enough to flick his tail at the approaching prince and send him crashing through the flimsy door of a spice bin. That instant was long enough for the witch. She envisioned her volcano bursting apart, flinging lava and ash in all directions. A

tremendous wave of fatigue rolled over her body; then her island erupted as she had envisioned, pouring forth molten stone in such prodigious quantities that the acid lake completely vanished beneath its fiery blanket.

Ruha felt control of her limbs return. Gasping for breath and trembling with fatigue, she slipped back to the center of the wagon. Her mind was not entirely free of its attacker, however. The dragon locked gazes with her again, and once more his bat figure appeared inside her mind, rising from beneath the sea of flaming rock like a phoenix reborn. An angry rumble rolled from

Cypress's throat; then the flaming bat transformed itself into an immense, black-haired Cyclops. The brute floated down to the ground, then waded through the lava toward the witch's volcano. He stood as tall as the summit, and his knobby hands looked powerful enough to crush stone.

Ruha pictured the ground beneath his feet turning to quicksand, but this time she experienced no strange tinglings in the pit other stomach. She felt only a dull, nauseating ache, then a searing wave of pain as the last of her energy drained from her muscles. The witch col- lapsed to her knees, so exhausted and enervated that she could not find the strength to rise. The cyclops stopped beside her volcano, then reached out and tore away a huge chunk of glowing stone.

As I annihilate this mountain, so I annihilate your mind! the cyclops cackled. When I finish, your head will be naught but a smoking hole, as empty and useless as a spent sulfur pit!

Ruha tried again to change the scene inside her head, but succeeded only in exhausting herself to the point that she almost dropped the fireball. The wagon rocked as someone climbed in behind her, but the witch could not rip her gaze away from Cypress's empty eye sockets to see who it was. She thought about trying to drop the fire- ball before the dragon seized control of her body again.

The resulting conflagration would kill her as well as the newcomer, but she felt fairly certain that destroying the ylang blossoms would also delay the theft ofYanseldara's spirit.