That night, Caramon was in the cave that Sun Feather had ceded to him, lying on his back, ready for sleep, when Cloudreaver came for him.

Caramon started as the son of Sun Feather entered. His kyrie friend was strangely daubed with paint, ornamented in beads and shells. Cloudreaver brought out a blindfold. Although Caramon felt uneasy, he let the kyrie tie it around his eyes so that he couldn't see where he was being taken.

Then Caramon felt the by now familiar sensation of being lifted up and borne through the air, but only for a short distance this time. When the blindfold came off, Caramon was in another, larger cave with about a dozen male kyrie who were garbed and decorated like Cloudreaver. Some of them he remembered meeting. Others he had never seen before.

They sat cross-legged in a circle. As Caramon, guided by Cloudreaver, joined the group, one of the male kyrie got up and came over to him, daubing his face with ash-gray, zigzag lines and draping him with ceremonial feathers and jewelry. This kyrie Caramon knew to be Cloudreaver's friend. His name was Bird-Spirit.

The bird-men linked hands and began to chant in the kyrie tongue. Caramon was seated between two kyrie he did not know. Looking around, he realized that Cloudreaver was gone. The kyrie gripped his hands. Although the young warrior had no idea what the kyrie were chanting, Caramon felt himself drawn into their solemn ritual.

The chanting continued for a long time. In spite of himself. Caramon felt himself being lulled to sleep. When he jerked his eyes open, he saw that the others, too, had closed their eyes. The kyrie were deliberately trancelike. Someone had lit sticks of incense, and a pungent odor, accompanied by curls of smoke, filled the cave.

All of a sudden the chanting stopped, and Cloudreaver appeared from a dark corner, carrying a large, heavy wooden box. This he carefully placed in the center of the circle. All eyes followed his every movement as the kyrie leaned over, opened a latched lid, and pulled out-Caramon caught his breath-a rare sea dragon.

The sea dragon was large, resembling a giant turtle with a lizardlike head, a thick dark shell, webbed toes, and massive, paddlelike flippers. Caramon knew that these ferocious creatures, not true dragons, were legendary for attacking ships. Rarely were they caught alive. Although it could breathe either air or water, it couldn't survive long without being immersed in water. As large and fierce-looking as this one was, it moved its head and tail ponderously outside its element.

Cloudreaver held it up and made a show of handing it to Bird-Spirit, who sat opposite Caramon in the circle. The head of the sea dragon thrashed, its powerful jaws snapping at the air. For long minutes, Bird-Spirit held the sea dragon over his head, chanting and murmuring while the savage creature did everything possible to twist out of his grip and lunge at him.

Bird-Spirit handed the sea dragon back to Cloudreaver, who passed it on to the next kyrie, and so on around the circle until Cloudreaver brought the huge creature to Caramon. The others watched him intently. Close up, the sea animal was revolting. It shrieked and thrashed, lashing out with its jaws. Fearful, Caramon hesitated for just a moment, then reached out and took the sea dragon from Cloudreaver.

Following the example of the others, Caramon held the sea dragon above his head, keeping silent while the other kyrie chanted for him. The Majere twin held the creature aloft until his arms ached, then lowered it, returning the sea dragon to Cloudreaver.

Cloudreaver met Caramon's eyes and passed the sea dragon on to the next kyrie.

After the sea dragon had gone around the circle, the chanting rose as Cloudreaver held the creature down in the center. He pulled out a long, sharp knife, and as the creature flopped around, trying to escape, Cloudreaver plunged the knife into the animal's back again and again, penetrating the shell.

Bird-Spirit rushed forward with a bowl, collecting the sea animal's spew of blood and body juices.

After some time, the creature lay still. One of the kyrie lifted its body back into the box and dragged the box off to one side.

Again Cloudreaver turned to Bird-Spirit first, this time offering the knife to his friend. Bird-Spirit took the knife and cut himself across the top of the forearm, a gash that dripped blood. Cloudreaver caught some of the blood in the bowl, then took the bowl from Bird-Spirit and passed it around the circle.

One by one the others cut themselves and dripped their own blood into the bowl containing the vital juices of the rare sea dragon.

When the knife came to Caramon, he looked up and met Cloudreaver's eyes once more. Without knowing why, but trusting the rituals of this good and honorable race of bird-people, Caramon cut himself on the forearm. Inexperienced, he cut himself rather deeply, and after blood spurted into the bowl, he had to grip his arm to stem the flow.

Cloudreaver was the last to cut himself.

Everyone kept silent now. The chanting had stopped. Nobody moved.

Kneeling in the center of the circle, Cloudreaver was the first to drink from the bowl. He started forward to hand it to Bird-Spirit, then had a second thought. The son of Sun Feather, the brother of Morning Sky, the heir to leadership of the kyrie turned and brought the bowl to Caramon Majere.

If the truth were known, Caramon was sickened at the thought of drinking the mixture, but he had come this far. He would do what was asked of him. Gripping the bowl with both hands, he put the slightly warm liquid to his lips and gulped some down.

Glancing up, he saw approval in Cloudreaver's eyes. Around the circle, he saw nodding faces.

Around the circle the bowl went.

Caramon was not the only warrior to be sickened that night by the sea dragon ritual. Within minutes of drinking the mixture of blood and sea dragon juices, he had rushed outside to vomit repeatedly in the darkness.

Afterward, with a wry grin, Cloudreaver told Caramon that that was no dishonor. Caramon had purified himself, and now he would be considered one of them, an honorary-for he was not a kyrie-member of their Warrior Society.

Early in the morning, before leaping for Atossa, Tasslehoff drank a double dose of the evil potion. He said he was beginning to like the taste of it-milky, a tad sweet-and it was not a problem for Fesz to coax it all down.

Because of his familiarity with the kender, Dogz was assigned to go along on the journey from Lacynos to Atossa, and from there to Karthay. His mission: to guard Tas.

"Well, let's call it safeguarding," Fesz was overheard by Tas to say to Dogz.

Dogz was disgusted with how Tasslehoff was behaving lately, which was less like a kender and more like a just plain evil person. The huge minotaur tried to beg off the assignment, but Fesz insisted that Dogz accompany them.

"He thinks you're his friend," said Fesz wisely, adding, "Besides, I command it."

In half a day, the three of them covered the distance to Atossa, riding in a royal coach drawn by a team of sleek black horses. As much for display as for protection, a troop of fully armored minotaur soldiers thundered alongside, stirring up clouds of dust. The road was rocky and full of bumps, and both minotaurs and the kender were tossed up and down repeatedly in their seats.

Outside the windows of the coach, Tasslehoff glimpsed barren desert. Between the noise and the dust and the sweltering heat and the boring scenery, it really wasn't a very agreeable journey, Tasslehoff thought. Although he did enjoy being bounced up and down in his seat more than Fesz and Dogz did.