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. Across the water I can see
the coast of my homeland, the ruins of the bandit stronghold
at Endaf. Finn, they tell me, dissolved with two dozen of his
retainers when the dragon thundered through their chambers,
shrieking and flailing and dripping the fatal acid that is the
principal weapon of his kind.
And the creature may as well have dissolved himself. He
has not been seen since that day on the Caergoth coast. But
the same fishermen who rescued me claim that, only the
other night, a dark shadow passed across the face of the red
moon. Looking up, they saw nothing but Lunitari and a
cloudless sky.
They saw an omen in this, and now carry talismans on
board, but sailors always were a superstitious lot, fashioning
monsters out of clouds and the wind on the waters.
At night I sit by the window, by lamplight, and watch the
constellations switch and wink and vanish in this uncertain
time, and I set before me a fresh page of vellum, the lines of
each day stored in my memory. For a moment I dwell on the
edges of remembrance, recalling my mother, L'Indasha
Yman, the reluctant knights, and the fortunate fishermen.
But, foremost, I recall my father, come down to me in an
inheritance of verse and conflicting stories. It is for him, and
for Grandfather before him, and for all those who have
vanished and been wronged by the lies of the past, that I dip
the quill into the inkwell, and the pain in my hand subsides
as I begin to write . . .
On SOLAMNIA'S CASTLES
RAVENS ALIGHT.
DARK AND UNNUMBERED
LIKE A YEAR OF DEATHS,
AND DREAMT ON THE BATTLEMENTS,
FIXED AND HOLY,
ARE THE SIGNS OF THE ORDER
KINGFISHER AND ROSE -
THE BARGAIN DRIVER
MARK ANTHONY
I'll give you the two bronze knives, the string of elven beads, and
the silver drinking horn, but that is my final offer
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