A half-remembered murmur echoed through the trees from somewhere ahead: the purl of water trickling down some steep slope.

Tang felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach and beads of sweat sliding down his brow. He withdrew a handful oflasal leaves from a basket in the bottom of the dugout and distributed them among his boatpushers, then placed two into his own mouth and chewed. As the protective fog arose inside his head, he began to regard the impending battle with increasing giddiness. Soon, he would have vengeance on his enemy. After his men destroyed Cypress's new body, he himself would find and smash the spirit gem. Then, when Yen-Wang-Yeh's ser- vants came to drag Cypress's wayward spirit down to the

Ten Courts of the Afterlife, Tang would recount all the

dragon's crimes against himself and Shou Lung, thus insuring a stern verdict that would condemn his foe to ten thousand centuries of torment in the Eighteenth

Hell.

The rancid stench of rotting fish began to waft through the air. The channel widened into a broad basin of black water strewn with mats of bog scum and studded by the naked gray trunks of a bald cypress stand. On the far side of the pool, a steep, green-blanketed scarp rose abruptly from the murky water and disappeared above the swamp's gloomy canopy. Down the face of this slope snaked a tiny ribbon of silver water, the same small brook casting its purl throughout the slough. To the left of the stream, barely visible through the whirling clouds of mosquitos, was a huge, half-submerged grotto, the moss curtain that dangled over its mouth tattered and frayed by the constant passage of some huge body.

Tang ordered his boatpushers to stop. Though the area had been darker and more crowded on the two occasions the prince had visited it before, he recognized it instantly.

Just outside the cavern lay a toppled cypress where the dragon roosted during Lair, with the entire cult arrayed before him upon the same rafts now occupied by General

Fui and his men. Rising from the waters around the perch were heaps of large fish skeletons, some with bits of gray, gritty hide still clinging to the thick bones, and hanging in the limbs of nearby trees were hundreds of long-toothed jaws.

Tang was most distressed to see that Cypress had already devoured so many sharks. From what the prince had learned during his brief association with the cult, when a dracolich's body was destroyed, he lost the ability to speak, cast magic spells, and use his terrible breath weapon. Unfortunately, he could regain those capabilities by consuming a mere tenth of his previous body, which he could always locate via a strange mystical bond-even if the corpse had been burned, shredded, or eaten. Judging by the number of skeletons lying in the water, Cypress

could not be far from a full recovery.

General Fui's raft pulled alongside the punt, and Tang pointed at the cavern. "That is dragon's palace." The prince allowed himself the pleasure of a touch of sarcasm at the term 'palace.' "Men a^e ready?"

The general glanced at the four rafts behind his, each bearing fifteen anxious warriors, and flashed a hand sig- nal. A gentle clatter rustled over the pond as his men reached for their halberds and pushed lasal leaves into their mouths. Fui watched a moment, then slipped a leaf between his own lips and nodded.

Tang drew his sword, then looked back to the cave and waited for General Fui to lead the soldiers forward

Thanks to his lasal-induced daze, the prince realized he could actually see the murk gathering over the swamp. It looked like a thick, oily smoke seeping from the fetid depths of Cypress's lair, where the dragon rested upon his bed of gold, dreaming ofYanseldara and filling the air with the dank gloom of his wicked obsession.

The prince's thoughts turned to his mother, and he found himself wondering what effect the unnatural murk would have on her. If the fumes darkened her fair skin, she would never forgive-most cursed lasal! That was the trouble with it; the user found it difficult to keep his mind focused on the task at hand, and he sometimes found his head filled with ridiculous ideas.

Noting that Fui still had not given the order to advance, Prince Tang looked to his general. "Why do you wait?" He waved his sword at the cavern. "Go kill dragon!"

Fui's head slowly turned toward Tang's punt. The gen- eral's pupils were nearly as large as his irises, and a blank, almost muddled expression had fallen over his normally resolute face.

"You do not lead us into cavern, Brave Prince?"

"Me?" Tang looked at the sword in his hand and under- stood the reason for the general's confusion. "I cannot lead way into danger. I am Prince!"

"That is what I try to say in Ginger Palace." Under the lasal's influence, Fui spoke more freely than he would have otherwise. "Do I not suggest it is foolish for you to take field? Do I not hint that your inadequate prepara- tions oblige men to take extra risks to protect you?"

The lasal haze inside Tang's mind began to darken and churn. "I am Prince! Soldiers die at my will!"

"True, but Honorable Prince does not waste their lives!" the general spat. "If you desire Lady Pong's rescue, you must stand aside and let someone who knows-"

A chorus of snickers filled the air behind Fui. The gen- eral stopped speaking in midsentence, and his widening eyes betrayed his astonishment at the words coming from his mouth. He dropped to his knees and kowtowed on the raft, pressing his forehead down so close to the edge that his silver-trimmed helmet fell off and slipped beneath the inky waters.

"Mighty Prince, I do not know these words! They are not my own!"

Tang hardly heard the apology. The lasal clouds inside his mind had worked themselves into a storm, and he could think of nothing but his fury.

"Words belong to him who speaks them." Tang glanced at the rafts behind Fui, where more than seventy sol- diers were studying the swamp's gloomy canopy and bit- ing their cheeks to keep from laughing. Bolts of lightning began to flash inside the prince's head. "Lasal loosens tongue. It cannot change secret thoughts of any man."

"Merciful Prince, I command garrison of Ginger Palace since it is built, and before that I humbly serve in per- sonal guard of Lady Feng. Please to allow me honor of dying in battle." Fui lifted his head and dared to meet

Tang's eyes. "Let me lead soldiers into dragon's palace."

"I myself lead way into lair." Tang glared at his general until the last soldier no longer found it necessary to bite his cheeks; then he pronounced Fui's sentence: "Shou general must respect master with heart as well as tongue, so that he does not forget himself and make men

laugh at Worthy Prince. To fail in this is treason."

Fui's face went as stiff as a mask. He whispered a prayer, beseeching his ancestors to find a place for him in the Celestial Bureaucracy, then touched his brow to the log. "I am ready."