Ruha was spared the necessity of pointing out the sug- gestion's folly when Hsieh shot the adjutant an impatient glower. "Only fool bargains with angry dragon."

Yu Po's face reddened with embarrassment, but he was determined to redeem himself. He puffed out his chest. "I

am not afraid, Worthy Minister. When I explain how witch deceives us-"

"If Cypress promises to return Lady Feng, who will cast the spell?" Ruha interrupted. "And after you give him the ylang oil, why would he return such a valuable hostage-and one who may well have the power to undo what he has worked so hard to do?"

Yu Po scowled at the witch and started to reply, but

Hsieh raised a hand to silence him. "Say no more, Yu Po.

Perhaps Lady Ruha neglects to tell us about dragon's new body, but that does not make her wrong now. Go now, and prepare my guards to ride!"

Tang stopped well back in the cramped passage, where it branched into three smaller tunnels. The limestone felt almost slimy beneath his sodden boots, and the trill of the tiny stream echoed surprisingly loud in his ears. Stooping over so he would not hit his head on the low ceiling, he

turned around and kneeled, his legs straddling the rivulet. The mouth of his hiding place was wide enough that he could see most of the ingot island, where Lady

Feng stood beside Yanseldara's staff, calmly awaiting

Cypress's arrival. Though the prince judged no man could see him hiding so far back in the passage, he had no idea whether the darkness would also conceal him from the empty-eyed dragon. He would find out soon enough, for it seemed unlikely the beast would waste much time before searching out the slayer of his pet wyverns.

A tremendous sloshing sounded from the treasure chamber; then Cypress's head rose into view beyond the island. The dragon appeared larger than even the night before, with horns as long as lances and a snout the size of a horse. He spread his wings, concealing the entire far wall of the cavern, and water poured down the dull scales in cataracts. He waded forward, rising high above the island as he climbed the beach of tinkling coins. Tang could see that Cypress carried a brown-cloaked figure in the talons of one hand.

The dragon paused beside the island and lowered his claw to the summit of the ingot heap. A plump, wide-eyed man clutching a small wooden cask crawled off, then col- lapsed to his knees and stared gaped-mouthed at the sparkling chamber around him. Cypress turned his vacant-eyed gaze on Lady Feng and dropped Tang's rope at her feet.

"I see some of your son's men survived." The dragon's booming words echoed off the stony walls like drum music. "Where are they? I would repay them for the pain they caused my pets."

When he heard Cypress assume it had taken a whole party to kill the wyverns, Tang's heart swelled with pride. Then it occurred to the prince that his mother's captor had spoken aloud, and the air inside his inflated chest turned cold and sickening. If the dragon could talk again, he could speak spell incantations and, no doubt, breathe acid. The prince felt as if he had chased a

chameleon into the brush and found a crocodile waiting instead.

The Third Virtuous Concubine studied the rope at her feet, then craned her neck to fix her outward-looking eye on the dragon. "I know nothing of Prince Tang's men."

Cypress snorted wisps of black fume into the air, then dropped his head and held one gaping eye socket over

Lady Feng's head. "Why are you lying? Perhaps you think these men can steal my treasure for you?"

Lady Feng's bulging eye looked as though it might pop from the socket. She slipped away from the dragon and started toward the man with the cask, clearly anxious to change the subject.

"Who is this fool? I do not ask for company."

The tactic seemed to work, for a crooked grin inched up the length of Cypress's snout. "He is not company; he is my spy."

The plump man rose and bowed to Lady Feng. "Tombor the Jolly at your service. Virtuous Concubine."

Lady Feng's squinty eye swung outward to gaze the man up and down, then rolled back to its original posi- tion. "I have no need of your service; you worship god of masks and betrayal. But I warn you, sentence of Number

Six Court is sure to be harsh. Do not die before redeem- ing yourself."

Tombor's florid face paled, and he looked quickly away from Lady Feng. "I was only offering a greeting, but I

shall remember your advice." He snatched up the cask he had brought and held it before him. "I have here the ylang oil you need."

Lady Feng looked at the keg, then slowly turned to face Cypress, who still wore the same crooked grin upon his long snout. "Now?"

"Of course now!" Cypress's grumbling voice spread across the water in dancing ripples. "I have been ready for weeks."

Lady Feng let her shoulders slump. "As you wish, then."

She crooked a finger at Tombor, then turned toward a small coffer of polished mahogany sitting on the near side of the island. The Third Virtuous Concubine kneeled on a small ingot terrace before the chest, then had Tom- bor place the cask he had brought beside it. She opened the chest and removed several bundles carefully wrapped in waxed silk.

A painful lump formed in the pit of Tang's stomach.

The Third Virtuous Concubine had already prepared the other ingredients; it would take her only a few moments to mix the potion and cast the enchantment that would forever unite Yanseldara's spirit with Cypress. The prince crawled forward, struggling to think of some way short of matricide to stop his mother from finishing her

spell.

Cypress climbed onto the far shore and stretched his neck over the summit of the little island, cocking his hideous head so that one empty eye socket hung directly above the Third Virtuous Concubine. Lady Feng had

Tombor remove the top of the oil cask; then she suddenly drew back and wrinkled her nose.

"Is something wrong?" Cypress demanded.

"Only horrible smell." Lady Feng took a deep breath, then leaned forward to peer into the cask.

Tang stopped a pace short of the mouth of the passage.

He could go no farther without exposing himself to the dragon's view-if he had not already-and still he did not know how to stop his mother. He was surprised to realize that failure mattered to him greatly, and not only because he wanted to impress Lady Ruha by saving Yanseldara.

To a great extent, his weakness was responsible for the peril of both the Ruling Lady and his mother; unless he set matters right, he would always be the same cowardly, foolish prince he had been before entering the swamp.

Lady Feng pulled back from the cask and carefully unwrapped one other silken bundles. Tang saw that he had a clear angle to the little keg. He wished for a cross- bow so he could pierce the side-and at last one desperate idea occurred to him. The prince retreated into the pas- sage and found a smooth, fist-sized rock. He tore the lapel off his fighting tunic, then fit the stone into the middle of it and stepped into the mouth of the tunnel. The passage was too small for a circular windup, so he simply cocked his arm back and hoped a simple whip-stroke would be powerful enough to span the distance.