

### The Snake Charmer's

### Daughter

Prequel to A Dragon's Guide to Destiny

C.M. Barrett

Rainbow Dragon Press
Copyright (c) 2017 by C.M. Barrett

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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### Prologue

My son, the Guardian of Oasis, has asked me to write a memoir.

"You'd inspire today's youth with your heroic deeds, and they might cease their lazy and self-indulgent behavior and become worthwhile citizens."

His request to make my private life public irritated me. I told him that if I hadn't spent the first part of my youth in a remote Etrenzian village training to become a snake charmer and the second part as a harem slave in Tamaras, I, too, would have taken every opportunity to indulge myself.

He stormed out of my house, and I don't blame him. I haven't even written the memoir, and I'm already lying.

I wouldn't have taken a single opportunity to indulge myself. My father had so thoroughly trained me in the superiority of mind over base emotions and sensations that I considered self-indulgence a criminal act. And I convinced an entire country to agree with me.

They have suffered for it, and so have I.

If I do write a memoir, it will be in the hope of undoing some of the damage I did. My Last Testament (which my son knows nothing about) will have some effect, but an honest account of at least my early life may also help by dispelling the mystique of my heroism.

Oasis can expect no lectures thinly disguised as the story of my greatness. I don't intend to write about Zena, Heroine of the Revolution. The truth is not quite so magnificent.

"Oh, yes, it is."

I ask D'zara what gives her the right to read over my shoulder.

"You might be writing about me in your memoir."

"This is not my memoir, and I haven't yet agreed to write it."

She sighs. D'zara has a full range of sighs for my behavior, but her favorite is the exasperated, "I know you better than you know yourself," version. In the early days, I heard it every time I doubted myself, which was so often that she regularly got a healthy dose of oxygen in her blood.

"Because you always deny that you were heroic, you need to remind yourself by writing the memoir. Besides, the people have the right to know the truth."

"The people do not; it's nowhere in the Constitution. I know because I wrote it."

Once D'zara gets a conviction between her teeth, she acts like one of those little dogs so popular in Tamaras that growl and snarl if you try to take away a treasured toy.

First, she pretends to compromise. "You could insist that it not be published until after your death."

"Or read," I say, knowing she'll have her hands on it before my flesh has cooled, if not sooner. However, I can prevent that. I made a binding spell for the Last Testament. It won't be found until this country has matured enough to understand and adopt its principles, and only the person best suited to present it to the people will discover it. That may happen hundreds of years from now.

I'll do the same with the memoir. D'zara will curse me while I'm living, and she'll try to find it, but I never taught her the sorcerer's methods. In the Etrenzian tradition, a parent passes such magic only to a chosen family member. I chose my granddaughter, to my son's eternal annoyance.

D'zara, sensing my partial surrender, pushes on for full victory. "Don't you want people to know you were more than the Founder's _wife_ and _helpmeet?"_

She never forgave me for marrying him. "After I'm dead, I won't care what people think of me. People know who ran Oasis after Nathan's death, and many know who really ran Oasis _before_ he died. I'd be more interested in correcting some of the misconceptions about the slavery days."

"Not so much lies as exaggerations," she says. "We both know that you didn't march out of your miserable village determined to become the heroine of your people. And you weren't nearly the sex slave that the tabloids make you out to have been. You prove my point. The truth will help those who feel they can't accomplish great things because they aren't fearless and selfless like the immortal Zena. Maybe they'd appreciate knowing that you were more like them."

Sometimes D'zara reminds me of a scorpion. Her stings are poisonous and painful. This barb has embedded itself in my tender pride. I don't want to be known as the ultimate heroine, but I also don't want to be remembered as Zena the Cowardly, who sometimes thought she would soil her pants with terror.

I was that Zena.

However, clever D'zara has provided me with a compelling reason for writing a memoir. If I hope for great leaders to continue the work I began, maybe they need to know that leaders can be as uncertain and fearful as any other human being.

That possibility resigns me to the knowledge that the only way for me to have any peace will be to write the damned thing. I give in.

D'zara is too wise to show her satisfaction. "Where will you begin? I think it should be the day everything changed."

"That was the worst day of my life."

"That's why you should start there."

"All right. Now go away. I want to write in peace."

But peace does not live in these memories.

### Chapter 1

The Tamarans were coming. For years they'd raided both Etrenzia and neighboring Dolocairn to feed their appetite for slaves and raw material, but now they aimed for total conquest.

Though high mountains protected Dolocairn, the Tamarans had virtually conquered them. For weeks, tribal drums had sent stories of slaughter and slavery—and a surprising degree of struggle. Those soft, fleshy people who worshipped dragons and mysterious priestesses had put up a better fight than we'd expected. In the end only the sheer numbers of the Tamaran army defeated them.

Now the army expected to defeat us, and almost everyone knew that they would. Although the gods we worshipped were as harsh and fierce as Etrenzian warriors, and we were much tougher than our neighbors, we were both fewer in number and lacking the protection their mountains had given them.

The village leaders had decided that we should hide in nearby caves. It would mean sharing those spaces with fire dragons, who threatened us less than the prospect of defeat in open battle.

Because I was a year short of eighteen, the age of adulthood when people could speak their minds, I kept my opinions to myself. Still, I thought that hiding would only delay the inevitable defeat. No one was talking about the possibility that they might find our caves. If they didn't, we'd inevitably run out of food and haul our starving selves outside.

We'd already heard that the Tamarans had great patience for waiting out sieges (probably because they were so lazy that doing nothing had great appeal for them). They could easily rest for a few weeks, and by the time we emerged, we'd be in no condition to defend ourselves. They'd either kill us or make us slaves.

My father and a few other elders nurtured the delusion that all the Etrenzians who hid in caves would re-emerge to form a great army that would overwhelm the Tamaran army. I thought goats would fly first.

Still, I did my assigned work, hauling basket after basket of lentils, rice, and other foods into the caves. When we were finished, people began to file inside, but I couldn't go in there without bathing.

Although desert air produces little sweat, and we are for the most part an odorless people (if you don't count pungent spices and proximity to goats), any smell reminded me that I had a body, and I preferred to forget that. If I was going to die today, I wanted to die clean.

My mother, who was used to my peculiarities, gave me permission with reluctance. "Be quick about it, Zena. We roll back the stone soon."

I knew they would whether or not I returned in time. Disobedient children were obliged to fend for themselves, even against vast armies.

I ran to a secluded stretch of the river, stripped, and plunged into the water, still cool from the mountain snow that fed it. The village, an oasis, never experienced drought, but like all Etrenzians, the people saved every fresh drop of rain and recycled every used drop of water. Only in the river could I stop worrying about wastefulness.

I floated, paddling a little, feeling small fish brush against my legs, and tried, as my father had taught me, to take in the hugeness of this eternal moment. I succeeded for only seconds at a time before that part of my brain attuned to danger took over.

What would I do if they captured me? A knife lay hidden in a pocket of my trousers. Etrenzian women died before they submitted to rape or imprisonment. If the Tamarans found our hiding places, many of them would also die.

Maybe my father would conjure up a miracle. Although I, like all Etrenzians, valued reason and logic I also believed in magic, knowing that when practiced by a calm mind, it worked on scientific principles.

At that moment, mine was not a calm mind. Floating in the river, I looked up at the sky. It had never appeared so huge nor the distant mountains so like the sharp teeth of a murderous grin. I was alone and unprotected in an immense world. No miracles seemed imminent. Fear washed over me with more force than the water. I needed to be with my parents right away.

I got out of the river and dressed, making sure to put on my protective amulet. When I tried to run to the cave, my feet wouldn't move. I wondered in panic whether one of the tiny and highly poisonous river snakes had bitten me. That would be a painful way to die.

I was searching for the possible puncture when my head spun around, and I saw an enormous red dragon on the other side of the river. His equally red eyes held mine with the kind of hypnotic stare we used on the snakes when we charmed them.

In my mind, I heard my mother calling my name and saw the cave entrance sealed by a boulder. I tried to lift my feet again, but they remained frozen. I glared at the dragon, who moved his jaws in a frightening parody of a smile. For the first time, I realized how helpless those hypnotized snakes must have felt.

"Let me go!" I screamed. "The army is coming!"

Instead, he breathed out fire. Its searing fragrance must have fried my brain because my thoughts turned dark, like the smoke of our sacred sage. The tableau of my desert home faded, and I tumbled into the vortex of a sandstorm, a swirling funnel of blackness. I may have cried out.

The funnel spat me out into a place with tall towers, walls, and the odors of countless people. I knew this must be Tamtown, a place I never wanted to see, but there I was, leading countless people who waved hoes and scythes and shouted, "Freedom!"

I shuddered awake from this nightmare.

"Just let me go, please. I'll make a deal with you. Release my feet, and if the Tamarans come into the cave, I'll kill as many as I can. You can eat the bodies if it's on your diet."

The dragon made a gagging noise and then pointed a very long claw at me. My stomach burned, and I felt that if I opened my tunic, I would see a small wound there. I rubbed the spot furiously and was about to resume the argument when he turned around and moved with surprising speed across the desert. His footsteps were so loud that I thought I was still hearing them long after he'd disappeared.

I was wrong. When I turned around, I saw the advance troops of the Tamaran Army.

"Shit," I said and gripped the handle of my knife.

I stood there, one small, young woman facing an army of thousands. The odds were far worse than in my recent dragon-inspired nightmare, but if I could kill even one of them, I wouldn't die in shame.

I lunged forward, and they laughed at me. A tall soldier grabbed me and seized the knife.

"Nice metalwork," he said.

Like most Etrenzians, I understood both Dolocairner and Tamaran, but I pretended that I didn't.

"Be careful," said another soldier, one who appeared to be in command. "It might be cursed. They're all witches, these Tamarans. Where are the rest of your people, girl?"

I looked at him blankly, and he repeated the question in the primary Etrenzian dialect.

"I don't know," I said. Although my people punished dishonesty within the tribe, lying to the enemy could be no crime. "I was visiting relatives in another village. No one was here when I returned. I was afraid that you'd already come through and captured them."

"We've been busy raping and pillaging elsewhere."

I hoped they were tired of raping, but the first soldier looked at me with hot, dirty eyes. Oh, to gouge them out of his stupid face.

"Who gets her?"

The commander knocked off the other's cap. "You'll keep your hands off her. The Emperor goes crazy for those skinny black Etrenzians."

"Don't know why. I'd do her because it's been a few days, but I prefer those Dolocairner women, all white and creamy with enough fat to keep their bones from gouging you. They should have left us a few instead of sending them all back to Tamaras."

"Tell the Emperor," the man in command said. "I'm sure he'll be very eager to hear your opinions before he sends you to the dungeon. Meanwhile, this girl is going back to Tamtown with the shipment we're picking up from K'zan."

I vowed to escape that night.

They split off, the main body of soldiers invading the village, where they would loot and destroy. I hoped everyone was in the caves.

I was sent with the smaller party, which marched until dark. Then they put me in an empty tent without bothering to cuff or chain me and threw in a dirty goat skin that must have traveled the length of Etrenzia and been pissed on a hundred times. I wrapped myself in it and shivered in the desert chill. The body heat of hundreds of people would make it warmer in the caves—if the soldiers hadn't found the villagers.

If they had, they could get lost in the many passageways, narrow and twisting, some leading to dead ends, and some leading to death. The Tamarans wouldn't know where the poisonous snakes nested. I hoped that they would sink their fangs into much foreign flesh.

I wouldn't allow myself to imagine the bodies of my father, mother, and brothers. Every Etrenzian child learned mind control at an early age, and I, the daughter of a witch and snake charmer, had learned better than most. I couldn't waste time in self-indulgence. I would need my strength for the escape.

Despite my determination, one cold tear trailed down my cheek. I wiped it away. My family would survive, and I would see them soon.

It got very quiet during the middle of the night. I crept towards the entrance of the tent and saw no one. Probably a sentry stood on duty, but if I could get past him, I could make my way back home.

I knew where to find water and which plants were edible. I would get a sharp stick to use as a spear and cover myself with the dung of a mountain cat to prevent one from viewing me as prey. If I moved quickly, I could be halfway home by early dawn.

Slowly I moved outside, walking very low to the ground, as a hunter would. The sentry was at the other end of the camp. I dropped into a crawl, aiming for a large pile of boulders fifty yards away. My goal was very close when a pair of arms encircled me.

"You Etrenzians always try to escape. You got further than most."

He hauled me over his shoulder, dumped me inside the tent, and tied my hands together with coarse rope. "If you try it again, I'll kill you."

At that moment, I didn't see the point in being a strong, emotionless Etrenzian, so I lay on the filthy hide and wept myself to sleep.
Chapter 2

The next day, the army met troops marching out from K'zan with a contingent of male and female slaves. We were all chained together by the wrists and forced to march in the blazing desert sun. The soldiers paid us little attention, and we spoke quietly in the local dialect.

"Do you know what happened to your village?" one woman asked.

I had decided to trust no one until I knew them much better, so I repeated the story of being away. This lie also saved me from having to admit that a big red dragon had kept me from going to the caves.

That night, when the army stopped to rest, I shared a tent with some of the K'zanian women. We were unchained, but guards surrounded the tent.

"Do you know anything about what's going to happen to us?" I asked.

"Sexual slavery for those of us who are good-looking," D'zara, a woman of my age, said.

"I'm a virgin."

"And we've lost a war. Virginity is sometimes the first casualty."

I didn't plan to surrender mine easily, though. The next morning, as we shuffled along the hard clay road, I reviewed my assets.

My father had trained me extensively in both magic and herbology. I had no idea of how they might prevent sexual slavery, but I knew of herbs that could induce either impotence or sexual indifference. I'd heard that Tamaras had a lush, wet climate that encouraged the growth of plants. Maybe I'd discover some useful additions to my repertoire.

More important, I had to stay strong. I had no faith in the dragon's-breath hallucination of myself leading enraged mobs, but escape might be possible if I didn't give in to despair, if I focused my mind to keep from become a mental slave. I would be an army of one.

That meant practicing. I decided to begin at once. I mentally closed off my awareness of unwashed bodies and the dusty road and the low-pitched muttering around me. My inward senses opened.

I seek guidance. Our people are scattered or dead. Many will enter slavery, I among them. Intelligence teaches us that we can use adversity to create victory. Show me how.

Great Intelligence wasn't always prompt about returning messages, and I didn't get an answer for two days.

Center your mind daily. Pay attention to everything. Be open to all opportunities. Release all emotional attachments when they arise.

To anything? Anyone?

Release all emotional attachments.

I'd like to say that this final directive gave me no trouble, but I've sworn to tell the truth here.

"Disgusting climate," a Tamaran guard complained. "Dust and dirt and clay like stone. My feet are killing me. This country was hardly worth conquering."

"And those damned Etrenzians put up too much of a fight," another guard said.

"At least we didn't have to climb any mountains," the first guard said. "We lost a lot of men because of those avalanches. And dragons, those big white ones. We killed a few, but they were vicious."

"Braver than the Etrenzian ones. We never saw them at all."

I grew hot with rage. No, all they did was blow smoke and project deluded visions.

I tried to pull back the anger, but I found myself shooting it at the guards, some of the more doltish looking Etrenzian male slaves, and the world in general. My father would have called this a lesson to teach me that I needed to practice with more focus.

My father. My mother.

I couldn't release my emotional attachments.

The scenery changed, tawny sands and red rocks yielding to patches of green so bright it hurt my eyes. Each day was a little cooler, each night a little warmer. Day or night, tiny insects I learned to call mosquitoes feasted on us.

And the dampness! It settled in my chest, a cloud thick with the green that even filled the air. I knew that because the stuff that I coughed out of my lungs was the ugly color of olives.

The guards let out cheers as we crossed the border. I turned around for what might be my last look at my country, but the desert had disappeared already, overtaken by the creeping green growth of Tamaras. The reality of my slavery suffocated me almost as thoroughly as the thick, poisonous air.

Now both days and nights were cold, and the captured girls huddled together in the tent for warmth. D'zara slept by my side, and one night she kissed me.

"What's this?" It seemed unhygienic.

"Didn't women in your village ever become lovers?"

"Not even men and women became lovers before marriage."

"You expect me to believe that?"

I didn't believe it myself, but I would have waited. I was a very dull girl in the departments of fun, friendship, and romance. My father discovered my gifts when I was five, and my training began immediately. I rarely got to climb the cliffs or play the games other children played. Magic was serious business.

I also didn't engage in casual flirtations like other girls and boys. "When the time comes, I'll find you a husband from a line of sorcerers," my father said. "A family in Q'rash has three gifted young men. I'll choose one."

The word "love" went unmentioned. As for sexual urges, I learned the necessity of translating their animal energy into magical power.

I was so repressed that it was a wonder D'zara even found me attractive. The idea that I might be desirable (in all honesty, even that someone would like me) intrigued me, and her lips awoke the first hesitant impulses of a longing that I would try to ignore for decades to come.

I knew better than to give in to it. That would have wrecked my program to stay strong. One kiss had demonstrated how sex could unhinge me, and I had never needed an uncluttered mind more. It was a matter of survival.

Yet I didn't want to alienate D'zara. If I were to survive in the unfriendly world towards which I was marching, I would need friends. Rather than explain my philosophy of life, I said that I had no interest in rolling on a dirty goatskin inside a tent where six other women also slept, with guards probably listening outside.

"You have a point," she said. "We'll wait."

When we had more time, I would explain that we'd wait forever.

Two weeks after my capture, we saw the bulblike spires of Tamtown. The soldiers, except for those Etrenzians slaves who'd been conscripted into the army, raised yet another series of cheers.

I automatically drew closer to the K'Zanian women. "I hope we'll see each other again."

D'zara whispered into my ear. "I've been making friends with some of the conscripts. They've promised to deliver messages if they can."

I was irritated with myself for not thinking of something useful like that. So much for Great Intelligence. The big dragon should have chosen D'zara for the thankless task of trying to save the Etrenzian nation.

Tamtown was the first city I'd ever seen. As we filed through the huge bronze gates decorated with dragon reliefs, I gasped at its immensity.

"Is K'zan like this?" I asked D'zara.

"Never. K'zan is a clean and well-designed city with wind tunnels to keep stale air from accumulating. We dispose of all waste as effectively as any villager would. My city is _Etrenzian._ Tamtown is pure Tamaran. Look at the garbage and shit all over the streets and sidewalks. See how filthy the people are and the stains on their precious marble facades."

Yes, it was indescribably filthy, but I sensed in the indifference that had created it a kind of arrogance that shouted, "We are the rulers of the world. We can do anything we want."

I was ashamed that such offal had conquered us, and I cursed the big red dragon's smoky fantasies of triumph. Anyone who could build this huge, gross city was surely undefeatable.

People lined the streets to jeer at the Etrenzian slaves.

"Losers!"

"Sand eaters!"

"Goat fuckers!"

This was my lowest moment so far. How far had I sunk that these dirty, stupid people could insult me without fear of retaliation?

D'zara squeezed my hand, and I glanced at her. She held her chin high, and her eyes had the sharpness of Etrenzian arrowheads.

Those prideful eyes deflated my despair. If she could remain undefeated, I could, too. I would walk with my head held high.

"And they call themselves civilized people," I muttered.

D'zara nodded. "I've heard that they indulge all their senses, eating rich food, having all kinds of sex, and worshipping nothing."

"You're saying that they do everything to excess."

"So I've heard, and so far, I've seen nothing to contradict this."

Neither did I. Most of the Tamarans were overweight. The women wore heavy makeup and elaborate gowns that looked as if their cost would have fed an Etrenzian village for a week. They were a nation of soft underbellies. I was ashamed that they had defeated us.

Despair tried to undermine me many times during my years of slavery and often succeeded for days or even weeks at a time. Sometimes the effort of dragging myself back to equilibrium hardly seemed worth it, but always in the end my self-pity disgusted me enough to give me the strength to shed it. If that didn't work, D'zara's piercing eyes did the trick. I think she sharpened them every night.

In the town square, where palm trees swayed and marble statues of naked men and women seemed to leer at us, the slaves were divided into groups. Most of them were herded towards the palace, a huge building with columns and more naked statues. They went in, not through the front entrance, but to what looked like an underground area.

Two women from our group were part of that contingent. They grabbed my hands before being herded away, and I realized that, for all my ineptness in the area of friendship, I had somehow grown close to them. I felt as if I were losing the sisters I'd never had before.

"I've heard that's where those who end up as slave laborers go," D'zara said. "I fear for them, Zena."

I did, too. This business of slavery had just gotten very personal. It would get worse.

### Chapter 3

The remaining six Etrenzian women went to a wing of the palace, entering a large space with soft-looking furnishings, more naked statuary, and curtains that looked like silk. The thickly perfumed air made me cough.

A tall, angular woman appeared. She wore a silk gown of red, a color I had learned to dislike.

"Welcome to the harem. I am Madame Cillenc." She gave the soldiers who'd brought us there a look of disdain. "These were the best you could find?"

"They keep them on short rations in Etrenzia," the leader said.

"And I'm sure you did nothing to improve the situation. What about the smell?"

"Goats."

"They must be bathed, and this room must be fumigated."

I studied her with care. She was haughty and superior acting, as was suitable for the representative of a conqueror. In the eyes surrounded by thick makeup I sensed hardness and cruelty and guessed that her long nails had often raked vulnerable flesh.

We'll see about you, I thought. I would bide my time and discover the weaknesses of her own flesh and spirit and use them against her without mercy.

I was ready to kill for a bath and change of clothing. I wondered if they had delousing herbs. I followed the others into the tiled bathhouse, where Tamaran slaves waited.

Tamaran traders had often stopped at the oasis to refill their water bags and break their journeys. They were always men, and they were as roughened as Etrenzians by lives spent traveling the desert. In contrast, these female slaves were soft. When I studied their round faces and broad cheekbones, I saw how those features would with time and indulgence become over-ripe and ooze mascara and rouge.

I imagined, though, that men would find them attractive. A pleasing appearance might get you places, even if it had only gotten these women into slavery. They could have ended up dead or working in mines. A clean, tiled bathhouse represented an upgrade.

I was so eager to remove my stinking clothes that I felt little shame about exposing my body. Frankly, there wasn't much to see.

"Do you speak Tamaran?" Ellura, the slave assigned to me, asked.

I saw no point in continuing my pretense and nodded.

"Good. Some girls don't, and it goes badly for them. Are you naturally that thin?"

"Not quite. They barely fed us, and it was all overcooked vegetables and burnt rice. We also got considerable exercise marching here."

She scrubbed me, looking around nervously. "Be careful about complaining. It's better to keep your head down and not make trouble."

I nodded. For all I knew, she was a spy. "Is it safe to ask questions?"

"It depends."

"What's a harem?"

"You really don't know?"

The anger that had begun simmering at the moment of my capture flared. "I am from an Etrenzian village. I have heard what a brothel is. We did not have anything called a harem."

"Then you were fortunate. Unlike a brothel, which is owned by an individual as a commercial enterprise, the harem is owned by the Emperor and is the storage place for sexual playthings. He, of course, gets first pick. He may give less-favored slaves to his friends or someone from whom he wants a favor."

"Between the slaves from Dolocairn and the Etrenzians, the harem must have gotten crowded."

She lowered her head. "Only the very best and most beautiful girls ever get chosen, and they rarely last more than a few years. After that, they're demoted, as I was, or given to some common person like a crew boss or merchant. At the moment, the Emperor is bored with Tamaran girls, and he got rid of most of them."

"You're still here."

Her eyelashes swept her cheeks. "I had the Emperor's child, which gave me some status. My boy will grow up to become a minor administrator, perhaps in one of the conquered countries. It's not the worst fate."

D'zara, foreign-looking in a flowing silk dress of pale green, came over to us. With her hair braided and coiled around her head, she would have looked like an Etrenzian goddess if we'd had such creatures.

This rotting, sensual city, this perfumed bath house, the silky hot water, even the thick bath towel that now covered my body, conspired to scrape away my desert shell to reveal soft flesh that ached for the woman I'd refused in the desert. Never had desire so powerfully consumed me.

D'zara smiled, and I wanted to cover her lips with mine. The ease with which my body was prepared for surrender showed me how dangerous this environment was. I would need to practice constant vigilance. I would become stronger, not weaker.

"Your turn to be dressed," Ellura said. "Do you like that hairstyle? I can do simple hanging braids instead."

I was still working on the impulses of my traitorous body. Focus. Center. Be mindful. No, you don't need a pile of hair on top of your head. "The braids sound fine."

After arranging my hair, Ellura took me to the small chamber that would be my room. "And I can safely tell you that if you want to invite that other Etrenzian here, no one cares. What goes on between women here is of no interest to the people who run this place."

"I don't—"

She laughed. "You Etrenzians are famous for mind control, but you need to do some work on the hunger in your eyes."
Chapter 4

That evening Ellura led us to a room for dining. "Tonight, you eat only with Etrenzians. Tomorrow, you meet the rest of the girls in the harem."

I wondered if this would be the only night we got to eat traditional Etrenzian cuisine. Some people think that desert dwellers subsist on whatever can be cooked over an open fire, but in Nathansville our restaurants are very popular.

And our food is the best in the world. Don't think goats, think spices, cumin and coriander to heat the appetite and many herbs from plants that grow only in the desert. They laugh at us and say we eat insects. Why not? They are abundant and when cooked to a crackling texture and lightly dowsed in a fiery sauce, they taste much better than the bland dishes I've eaten in Dolocairner restaurants.

Over the years, as much as I've tried to learn appreciation for Tamaran food, I've failed. I tell others that it's too rich for me, but the truth is that its taste always holds the flavor of slavery.

Waiters served us decently cooked rice and lentils, along with a big salad made of vegetables I'd never seen. They tasted as green as they looked, but my senses told me that they were healthy. I had a second helping.

After dinner, Madame Cillenc came into the room and ordered us to stand in a line. She looked at each of us with care, ordering us in the rudest possible way to turn around when she was done examining our frontages.

She tapped my shoulder and then D'zara's. "You two will remain. The rest of you follow the guard out of the room."

Ellura had told me that harem slaves lost favor in time, but the women with whom I'd shared conversation, a tent, and a long journey seemed to have instantly lost the chance to gain favor. Would they have the same fate as the other rejected ones: field work, the mines, or worse?

In one day, I, who'd never had friends before, had lost a total of six. I wanted to grip their hands, but Madame Cillenc kept her eyes fixed on mine. I summoned all my mental abilities to maintain a neutral expression.

When we returned to the chambers, Ellura confirmed my fears. "They'll go to another sorting station. The strongest will go to the mines. No one lasts long there. The marginally attractive women will be sent to the brothels in town. A few may be lucky enough to become domestic slaves. They live longer."

"We never got to say good-bye to them," D'zara said.

"I'm sorry," Ellura said. "I couldn't warn you in advance."

"Will we ever see them again?" D'zara asked.

"It's highly unlikely."

Ellura left, and I succumbed to despair.

"At least we have each other," D'zara said.

My vigilance seemed to dissolve when I was close to D'zara. I wanted the comfort of her hands to soften the shards of misery that stabbed me. She pulled off my gown, and the closeness of our bodies built a fire hotter than the breath of a fire dragon. I didn't want to be the snake charmer's daughter; I didn't want my mind to run me; I wanted my body to win this battle.

It might have except that I realized there were many ways to become a slave. I reminded myself that if I let my body imprison me, I would lose all chance at freedom. I moved away from her.

"Why?" D'zara demanded. "I know you want me."

Still naked, I jumped out of bed and grabbed my silk gown. "Look at this." I shook it at her. "And this." I pulled my braids. "On the outside, I'm unrecognizable. All I have left is the power of my mind. I can't lose that, too."

I crumpled on the floor, shaking.

D'zara finally understood. "You're different," she said slowly. "You're strong. You don't know how much I wish right now that you weren't. But if you weren't, I probably wouldn't be attracted to you. Somewhere, some god is laughing at us, and I'd like to kick him in the balls."

I would have kicked him, too.

She threw on her beautiful green gown. "How great are your powers? Do you think they could help to free us?"

I did not. How could a snake charmer's daughter from a primitive village conquer a well-armed and powerful (although lazy) nation?

"D'zara I'm not going to lie to you because I'm an Etrenzian, and honesty is one of the few things I have left of who I am. My powers aren't that strong. The most they can do is help me to escape."

Her expression turned as fierce as that of a desert hawk. "I'll settle for escape, but I don't think one or two people can figure out how to do it. Can we try to find a few other people we can trust?"

Her determination gave me strength. "We can try."

She pulled at her hair, and the lovely coils tumbled around her shoulders. "I see now that you're right. We can't be lovers—and you don't know how much I hate that—but we're going to be friends and allies."

Great Intelligence whispered that friendship counted as an emotional attachment, but I told Great Intelligence to shut up. One day in the harem had confirmed the necessity of friends.

And allies? That was simply logical.

The next morning Ellura woke me early. "You need more bathing. Madame Cillenc said you still smelled last night."

I made a face.

Ellura, apparently more willing to share secrets in the privacy of my room, said, "Never speak against her when others are around. She has spies everywhere. Working in the mines isn't the worst thing that can happen to a slave. She has a dozen whips and many torture devices. If she decides she doesn't like a slave, or if she thinks a slave is getting too much attention from the Emperor, she may do anything."

"But I thought we're here to win the Emperor's attention."

"You are, and you must succeed, but if you succeed too well, Madame Cillenc will hate you."

I took a risk. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You do right to ask, but I've already said enough to get me in the worst trouble. I'm trusting you."

"Why?"

"Because neither you or that other Etrenzian woman came in already looking defeated. Because I see something in your eyes. Because I've been here two years, my family is either dead or enslaved, and if something doesn't change, I'm going to take my life. I'm not the only Tamaran who feels this way. You look like someone who will change things."

"I'm not," I said. "Don't pin your hopes on me."

Her eyes remained bright. "Circumstances change, and I think there's more to you than you know."

In truth, I thought there was far less. The night before, I'd been defiant and determined, but the walls of the harem looked thick and high this morning. Within them I saw guards beyond the counting. Mind control was looking like a pretty flimsy tool against a deranged sadist and whoever allowed her to rule the harem.

But I couldn't give up. Like Ellura, I knew that the only alternative was death.

"Madame Cillenc has instructed me to put you in the hot room," Ellura said. "You'll sweat out some of your odor."

The small room, heated by steaming rocks, wasn't much hotter than the desert on a roasting summer day, but it was much more moist, and sweat soon poured from me. I was grateful to be alone.

Great Intelligence, how can I walk the narrow road of balance, no, tightrope suspended over a deep ravine?

By not being so dramatic. Go back to the narrow road. Close your eyes and focus on the situation. And stop threatening to kill yourself.

I wasn't going to promise, but some of my determination returned. I had to find the corrupt and rotten places in the harem structure. Any one of them could be an escape route.

I also had to learn how to survive here and avoid being sent to the underground prison. Although I still felt unskilled in the art of making friends, I would try, both to get an overview of the situation here and to learn more about Emperor. If possible, I'd learn his weaknesses and use them to dominate him. He was the most corrupt and rotten element in this whole place; might he provide a means of escape?

If he had a sharp, wily mind, he might be difficult to befuddle with mind control. It seemed unlikely that any Tamaran could have mental focus that even nearly approached mine, but the image of Madame Cillenc floated before me. It would never do to underestimate that one. I had to learn how to handle her, too.

Thinking of the many tasks required in order to simply ensure my survival exhausted me so much that I fell asleep.

Ellura woke me up and took me to the bathing room, where she scrubbed me with oil-infused soap. After she'd dried me, she gave me a new gown. I didn't understand why. The one from the day before had hardly been worn, and I hadn't spilled any food on it. I decided that it must be because we were in damp Tamaras, where both water and odors existed in abundance.

This dress was a pale rose matched with rose sandals. I felt like one of those statues we'd passed in the town square. I'd never get used to these customs; nor did I intend to adjust.

Ellura took us into Madame Cillenc's office. Like the main harem room, it had silken wall hangings, thick rugs, and furniture that seemed designed for sleep rather than attentiveness. The woman didn't invite us to sit.

"You will have extensive training, and it will begin today. First, you will meet the other ladies of the harem. They will instruct you about the preferences of the men they serve. These preferences encompass much more than sex. Service includes making their favorite drinks and foods and listening to their problems. They are great men; your job is to serve them in every way. Do you understand?"

I bobbed my head.

She looked at me. "Are you a virgin?"

"I am."

"We'll check, of course. And you, D'zara?"

My friend flushed. "There was one man—"

"I'm not interested in the details. The answer is no?"

D'zara nodded.

Madame Cillenc took no more interest in the subject, but my degree of inflammation over this information told me that my hold on the limitations of friendship was fragile.

At the first opportunity, I planned to interrogate D'zara about the man to whom she'd given herself. Had she loved him? Did she mourn his loss?

I wasn't all certain that the truth would set me free.
Chapter 5

We followed Ellura into a room near the sleeping chambers. A dozen women lounged on the usual soft couches. They looked up when we came in. My stomach began to knot. More strangers, I thought, and most of them not even of my own race.

My eyes found the three who were Etrenzian. They allowed faint smiles to crease their lips when they saw us. That helped, but for a girl who'd spent most of her time with snakes, this was a crash course in socialization.

Five of the women were Dolocairners. As with Tamarans, I had only seen Dolocairner men, traders who wore the universally rough desert patina on their skin. Unlike the soft Tamarans, they had faces as craggy as their mountainous home. The visible emotion in their glinting blue eyes had always made me uneasy.

The women's skin was pale as cream. Though their bodies curved in ways that would surely attract men (like the lecherous Tamaran soldiers), captivity had taught them to shield emotion. I saw the flash of swords in their eyes, and that was a comforting sight.

The final four women were Tamaran. They looked slightly used, like blankets repeatedly washed. I had the sense that some of them were traveling the road to demotion or worse.

Madame Cillenc entered the room, and the tension level elevated. Everyone sat a little more straight. All faces became expressionless.

"I'm going to put you into small groups," the Madame said. She called out names and indicated specific couches. The group reorganized, and I ended up sitting with one Etrenzian, two Dolocairners, and a Tamaran. Without D'zara close by, I again felt isolated and far too vulnerable. I would have given much to be sitting in a quiet, snake-infested cave.

The Tamaran, Menia, took charge. She asked me if I was a virgin. My irritation with that question must have shown on my face.

"Most of us came here virgin," she said. "I'll be blunt. It's easier in that you're not comparing some overweight, sweaty male to a young man you may have loved. On the other hand, it's a rude awakening."

The fear I'd successfully suppressed now rose in a state of complete terror. The word "slave" said it all. I would be abused, denigrated, diminished, and I would wish for my knife.

"The Emperor likes virgins," Menia said in a tone as bored as if she were reporting the temperature. "That means, Zena, that you'll be spared some of his associates, at least initially. Please him, and you may be spared them forever. This is a state worth achieving."

She turned to the other women. "Please give this novice such advice about the Emperor as you can share."

A Dolocairner spoke. "Whether it's the Emperor or any of them, pretend, always pretend. I know that many Etrenzians believe in the Great Intelligence and in emotional detachment. I can safely say that all of us in this room have learned this out of necessity. If, for one minute, you become too aware of what you're doing, you will suffer."

"As a fellow Etrenzian, I give thanks for my detachment," another woman said. "And pretending makes you a better actress. You will feign desire, feign ecstasy, feign satiation. You will convince the heaving mountain of lard on top of you that he has taken you to the very heights."

Menia interrupted. "In time, such performances will become mandatory for you, but as a virgin, you will be expected to be shy, at least a little frightened. You look younger than you are, which will also please the Emperor. He has a fondness for young girls."

I was surprised by her bluntness and looked around for Madame Cillenc.

Menia laughed. "She knows all this, and she expects us to tell you the truth. Our performances reflect on her. Now, on to the specifics."

I will not record the details of what I learned. It's enough to say that ninety percent of the women in the world would be shocked to learn what went on in the royal and noble bedrooms of Tamaras.

As the ferocious Cillenc had promised, we learned much more over the following weeks. Though the Tamaran slaves were always available to arrange our hair and put on our makeup, we were expected to be skilled in these arts. Men apparently enjoyed watching female slaves perform them.

We also learned how to seductively drape our garments for maximum arousal. Attention was given to our posture, which was no problem for an Etrenzian woman.

Perhaps almost worse than our sexual instruction was what we learned about the art of emotional servitude. We were expected to treat these men as virtual gods, acting with every gesture as if we were grateful slaves. In the end, I found that more difficult than even the most bizarre sexual practice.

After our first day of training, D'zara and I met in my chamber. I abandoned all pretenses at being rational.

"Tell me about this man who took your virginity."

Her nostrils flared. "How dare you? He didn't take it, nor did I give it. I disposed of it. Excessive curiosity about what men and women did together was robbing me of the ability to focus, so I chose a logical solution. I picked the first likely candidate, and we went to bed."

I breathed normally again. "You didn't love him?"

"Does that sound like love? I planned carefully, taking the herbs that would prevent pregnancy. I told him I was merely curious. Being a man, he didn't care about my reasons. I suspect that, being a man, he was also relieved that I didn't say I loved him."

"And your curiosity was satisfied?"

"Enough to remove all desire for a repeat performance—although it now appears that I will have them and have much less control over them. There. Are you satisfied?"

I was. "What you've said convinces me that sex is over-rated."

"I've promised not to try to convince you otherwise, but what about love?"

"That's even more over-rated, I'm sure."

I wished she wouldn't look so sad.

"We Etrenzians don't think much of love, do we?" she said. "I've heard haunting Dolocairner love songs, and I'm sure Tamarans have their share of fancies on the subject. We sing of respect and loyalty."

That was exactly as it should be.

The next day, we strolled in the gardens, which staggered my desert-honed sensibilities. My spirit had learned to soar at the sight of red rocks and undulating sands. The people of my village used all water to grow vegetables and the few thriving fruit trees. The indulgence of pampering flowers that weren't hardy enough to subsist on rainfall offended me, and their brilliant colors hurt my eyes as much as the flagrant greens of Tamaras.

Once I'd recovered from this visual assault, I reminded myself that, gaudy or not, these flowers might hold value for me. The unfamiliar plants I noted might have medicinal or murderous qualities. Maybe I could find one that would kill Cillenc.

My father had taught me how to assess the properties of a plant. You held your hand a few inches above it. A tingling sensation meant that it might have some value. Pain usually meant that it was poisonous. If the tingling persisted, you carefully placed your hand on a petal or leaf and allowed a focused mind to sense its characteristics.

It would take days to evaluate the vast numbers of new plants in these extensive gardens, but I immediately discovered one with bright red flowers that my hand told me had properties of both healing and poison. Sometimes the difference was determined by the amount taken, and healers had occasionally died or killed their patients by making an error in dosage.

A skinny Etrenzian youth was clipping and trimming a hedge. I wondered how he'd managed to escape the slave gangs, but after watching his careful work for a few minutes, I thought that he must have worked as a gardener. This possibly indicated some degree of intelligence. The evidence that he'd made a convincing case against deeper servitude suggested that he had gifts of persuasion.

These factors made him interesting. The other harem slaves had warned me to be cautious and reserved in speaking with men, so I approached him casually.

When he saw me, he turned as red as an Etrenzian can, meaning that his cheekbones glowed.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I am Nathan."

That wasn't an Etrenzian name. I noted my suspicions for further examination and continued my questioning.

"And what's the name of that flower?"

"It's a poppy."

"And its properties?"

"Supposedly delightful oblivion, pleasing hallucinations, a state of bliss. However, those who use it regularly develop addictions."

I stored away this information for possible future use.

That night after dinner, the twelve girls who made up the Emperor's harem gathered in a lounge area. I was surprised when Jadeia, one of the most beautiful of the Dolocairners, chose to sit next to me.

"I realize that it's virtually impossible for you to consider trusting anyone here. I've only been living in the harem a few weeks longer than you, but that's been long enough to know that it's difficult to survive here without some degree of trust. Shall I tell you how I determine who is trustworthy and who is not?"

This sounded like valuable information. "Go ahead."

"Dolocairners have something that differs from your mind gifts, a quality your people would probably scorn. It's intuition. Call it a deep knowing, a certainty as unshakable as our mountains.

"Some people mistake their desires for intuition, and not everyone has the fully developed gift. I, however, was training to become a priestess, and learning to listen deeply was part of my training."

I decided to be honest with her. "I, too, have had training, and although the art of snake charming may seem like nonsense to some and magic to others, it's based on logical principles. A mind that firmly focuses on a thought can overpower one, especially an animal mind, that does not."

She smiled at me. "Therefore, you would have trouble controlling the mind of a cat? For I find that their mental focus is absolute."

I had never attempted such a thing, and I agreed with her assessment. "They are logical creatures."

"Yet also intuitive. When I was a novice in the temple, I was sometimes overcome with homesickness. Whenever my despair reached a peak, a temple cat always jumped on my bed and began purring. I am sure it came to comfort me."

I thought of the lean, haughty cats, large and small, that prowled the desert. "I don't see them as kind."

"Perhaps you'll learn. Cats live in the palace, and they sometimes visit the harem. For now, though, I sense that your fine, logical mind isn't yet ready to understand the power of intuition. We'll have other discussions. I ask you only to listen to what my intuition tells me about the women here. Do what you wish with the information."

I may not have trusted intuition, but I trusted Jadeia. "Go on."

"Ellura is honest, and she longs to escape this place. All the other Tamaran women are spies for Madame Cillenc, although I believe that Menia has some ambivalence about her role. The Etrenzians are women of integrity. So are the other Dolocairners, some of whom I've known since childhood."

"And D'zara and myself?"

Her blue eyes deepened. "Why else am I sitting here?"

"Not because you like me?" How wise I'd been to avoid friendship in the past. A few days ago I'd experienced seeing people dragged away into unimaginable suffering. Now I worried about rejection.

"I do like you. You carry yourself with pride and dignity. More than liking you, I trust you and also D'zara. I sense that you're both leaders. If it can be done, you'll take us out of here."

"I don't believe it can be done on a large scale, at least, not by me. If possible, I will take myself and a few others."

"I would expect you to say that, but on the day you were captured, you had a conversation with a big fire dragon."

I drew back. Was she a Dolocairner witch?

Jadeia laughed. "That meeting made a deep imprint on you. In Dolocairn we believe in the aura, a vapor invisible to most that surrounds all people. I see a dragon in yours, right here."

She pointed to my solar plexus. "He placed his essence there to give you strength. In Dolocairn we believe that a dragon's attention is a blessing. You, Zena, are blessed."
Chapter 6

"You never told me about that dragon," D'zara said.

"Because it meant nothing." I had told her, expecting her to laugh at the ludicrousness of it. I didn't like the thoughtful expression on her face.

"Maybe we're planning too small."

"D'zara, we don't even have a small plan. The more I look around, the more difficult it seems. Have you noticed the height of the walls or counted the number of guards all over the place?"

"Listen to yourself. You're saying you'll never able to do it. I know that we aren't people who put much value in faith. Look at it another way. Here, in this moment, you don't know how to lead people out of here, and maybe you're not going to do it, but what if it's the best way to escape?"

"It isn't. Rebellions tend to get noticed. People tend to get killed."

The passing days hadn't eased my awareness that I had lost my freedom, and, although I tried not to think too much about my family, they cried in my dreams. Did that mean they'd died, or were they slaves, perhaps even here in this filthy city?

A few weeks among Dolocairners and Tamarans had washed away much of my tough emotional discipline. If I hadn't drawn the line against D'zara's advances, I wouldn't have been able to continue my daily mindful practice.

Yet, even with the lines firmly drawn, we'd become close in a way that often frightened me. I felt like a dried wineskin whose sinews ached when water was poured into it.

Once a Dolocairner trader had stayed a few days in our village. The elders invited him to sing a song from his country. I remembered the melody as one that throbbed with the despair one might feel trapped on the top of a mountain in the middle of a blizzard (not that I'd ever seen so much as one snowflake). I shivered.

The words seemed incomprehensible. He sang of two lovers, who, when they met, knew they'd found the missing parts of their incomplete souls. The lyrics had laughable sentiments like "Once I was alone and broken, now I'm with you and whole," verse after verse of such nonsense.

The elder men and women looked at each other in mystification before applauding politely. As my father and I walked back to our home, I asked about the song.

"The Dolocairners are the most sentimental people in the world," he said. "They live to feel deeply."

"But that lost soul stuff?"

"It's part of their romanticism. They live for love—not respect, honor, or courtesy, but for an emotion that enslaves them. Think of it as a drug, and make sure you never try it."

How truly my father had spoken. Though I admitted it to no one and barely even to myself, I'd become dangerously fond of D'zara. My feelings were like the red, addictive poppy in the gardens. I had tasted them, and now they threatened to hold me in their power. How wise the Etrenzians were to shun love completely.

Had I not been a slave, torn from my family and village and dumped into a lush cesspit, I might have had more strength and will. How I longed for my parents at that moment, for the sight of their beloved faces, and their clean, dry scent.

"Why do you look so sad?"

"I made the mistake of thinking about my parents," I said.

D'zara closed her eyes, and one tear fell. "I think about my family all the time. Whole sections of K'zan were burned. As the soldiers led me away, I heard the women screaming."

Already, she had given me strength so many times. Now came my turn. I asked Great Intelligence for the words, and for once it responded without delay.

"I think of my family, too, but if they've died, I'm all that remains of my particular bloodlines, of a thousand-year-old heritage of sorcery. Who will carry that on? Who will return to Etrenzia and throw out the Tamarans?"

She rubbed her eyes. "We will. You and I. And maybe a few others."

Speaking of my heritage reminded me that I needed to give some concentrated thought to how I could use it to best advantage in the area of survival skills.

We got an hour to ourselves after breakfast. I told D'zara I wanted to search within and evaluate my gifts.

"I won't keep you from your work," she said. "I'll go walk in the garden and learn more about this place."

I went to my room and closed the door, reviewing what my father had taught me.

Snake charming came to my mind first. People think that the snake gets mesmerized by the sound of the flute a charmer plays, but that's mainly a prop. Nor does the swaying back and forth of the charmer hypnotize the creature.

A great snake charmer like my father used only his mind to dominate the snake. He streamed a series of silent suggestions, gradually deepening their intensity as the snake began to succumb.

Some of my father's most successful exhibitions involved no suggestions at all. When he sensed that a snake might be receptive to conscious communication, he streamed visual images of dead rats and mice. If the snake streamed back a preview of its performance, they'd made a deal: work for food.

At the time I was abducted, I was just learning this level of communication. Now I wondered if I'd advanced further than I'd believed. Perhaps my training had allowed me to understand the dragon.

A performance with a willing snake would make an impressive show. The only problem would be finding a suitable partner. I couldn't imagine that these creatures of the desert would frequent a city.

What if humans could be mesmerized? A Dolocairner with inner sensing skill would likely catch me trying to influence her thoughts and actions. I wouldn't think much of my chances with an Etrenzian, either.

The Tamarans, though, were neither mentally or emotionally acute. They lived for their senses—presumably. I remembered that Jadeia had told me not to trust the Tamaran harem slaves. Did that mean they were sharper than average? I would ask her.

In the meantime, I could very cautiously test out my gifts.

I cataloged my other talents. I knew how to make a binding spell, which meant that if I ever needed to hide anything, no one who wasn't entitled to see it would ever find it. That could be useful.

And that was also the last of my abilities. Traditionally, an apprenticeship with a sorcerer lasted a long time. I hadn't yet learned alchemy or shape shifting, both of which would have been quite helpful.

However, resolving to apply those gifts I did have encouraged me.

D'zara came back from her hour in the garden filled with information. "I walked with Jadeia. She told me about the gardener."

"Nathan?"

"Nathan Turley, which, as you know, isn't an Etrenzian name. Neither is it his real name. No one here wants the Etrenzian slaves to know that he comes from the old royal lines, the ones who tell the King what to do."

"Or did."

"Yes. The Tamarans targeted him for kidnapping. At first, they were holding him for ransom, but the soldiers had carelessly killed off his family. The Emperor sees some value in him and invites him to his chambers from time to time."

"Does that mean we shouldn't trust him?"

"Jadeia is sure he isn't a spy, but he acts like a happy slave. He sings while he works. I was most interested in hearing that he gets to leave the grounds to select plants for the gardens and sometimes ornamental stones for decorations."

"Alone?"

"No, he goes with the head gardener, and soldiers always accompany them."

"But if he's not alone—"

"The soldiers basically ignore the gardeners and go to a tavern to drink. We must keep one important fact about Tamarans in mind. They're lazy. We can take advantage of that."

"Do you think he talks to the slaves in the outside gardens and in the quarries?"

"I'm wondering about that. I'm sure he has the opportunity. I think his telling Jadeia had a deeper message. Here's another important thing about him. He knows how to play the drum songs."

A shiver ran through me. On the few occasions when two or three tribes had signaled to each other and coordinated ambushes against the Tamaran army, they had surprised their enemy. This suggested that Tamarans didn't know the language of drums.

I fell into a trance as unreal as the one the dragon had cast over me, hearing the drum song rallying the troops, shaping them into a powerful rebel army, led, of course, by me. How truly my father had warned me against feeding my ego.

With a sigh inaudible to D'zara, I pulled myself back to reality. "How many times do I have to say that I'm not leading anything?"

"But what if someone else does?"

What would I do? I saw one possibility. "Let them organize their revolt, and while all eyes are turned towards them, we'll slip away."

That idea tempted her, but she thought far too quickly for my liking. "If a revolt makes it easier to cut free, why not help advance it?"

"Because it's dangerous. Because it means trusting many more people than the handful I currently trust. Because we'll lose and end up worse off—if we survive. Why do you want me to do this thing?"

Although my voice was sharp, she didn't flinch.

"It isn't what I want. It's what I see. Partly because of the dragon."

He had a lot to answer for.

"I may be from the city, but I know they don't talk to just anyone. The dragon saw what I see. Your mind is like a blade, and we stand a better chance of succeeding if you're involved. No one around here comes close to your mental powers, and that includes the singing gardener."

If I could keep my only partially quelled ego at rest, I could consider the logic of her argument.

"You don't have to be involved. Act as an advisor. Evaluate people's ideas."

That seemed unthreatening, but I wanted to consider it further. "I'm not going to make a decision now. Stop bothering me about it."

She wisely obeyed. "Back to the drum songs. Tamarans are easily bored. They might like some new forms of entertainment, like snake dancing and exotic ethnic music. I was a renowned snake dancer."

"Wouldn't you hate to dance in front of the overlords?"

"They will make us do far worse."

That gave me an idea. "Maybe not. If we show them we have talents, they might spare us. And we'd get to see the people who run this place and study them."

I was coming to like this possibility. "I never learned the nuances of the dance, but I can play the flute."

"I see the performing arts in our future," D'zara said.

After dinner, some of the harem slaves usually gathered in the sitting room for casual conversation—casual for them. I was always looking, always watching, always assessing.

So far, Jadeia's evaluation of the other slaves seemed accurate. None of the Etrenzians had lost their erect posture or quiet defiance. The Dolocairners, too, maintained a sense of integrity. The Tamarans, who kept themselves apart from the rest, seemed to exude a kind of greasy deference that flowed more freely whenever Madame Cillenc appeared.

That night, a parade of four cats entered the sitting room. From their looks, they were all members of the same family.

In Etrenzia, although cats represented good fortune in the hunt and were welcome in most homes, they rarely set up housekeeping with humans. They seemed to prefer the caves, where they congregated in large numbers. They hunted in packs and did an excellent job of keeping the rodent population under control.

Images of them often featured in our art: sleek, slender auburn creatures with golden eyes, big ears, and triangular heads. Most households also had sculptures of cats on the altars that honored family ancestors.

These cats didn't resemble our Etrenzian felines. Their bodies were chunkier and their legs shorter. Their fur was beautiful, with swirling patterns of black, brown, and cream. Their eyes glowed green. None of them had the lean, predatory look of the cats I had known. They appeared well fed.

All of them marched up to me and stared into my face. One of them mewed loudly.

Jadeia, who was sitting next to me, said, "They seem to have something to tell you."

"They'll have to try a little harder."

The mewing cat growled faintly and placed a paw on my knee. I felt the curled claws ready to dig in.

Jadeia had claimed that I wouldn't be able to control the mind of a cat. With this one's talons so sensitively placed, I didn't want to make the attempt. She seemed, however, to want my attention.

When I focused on her mind, a stream of images flooded my own. I saw cats all over a city that lacked both Tamtown's ornate décor and abundant filth. The human population, soberly dressed in dull-hued tunics and trousers, represented all the races, with some interbreeding.

Before I could further contemplate this perplexing image, she showed me another: a young woman who looked very much like me sitting with a kitten who resembled the smallest of this delegation. Both visions, I now understood, represented the future. In a city that did not yet exist a woman who was as yet unborn sat with a descendant of this cat. Did it mean I would survive long enough to have descendants? I deeply hoped so.

The cat lowered her paw, apparently satisfied with the communication. She turned around and marched out of the room. The others followed her.

"Very strange," Lomilla, one of the Tamarans said. "I wonder why they took an interest in you."

I ignored the obvious implication that no royal animal would waste time on a humble, flea-bitten Etrenzian. I would have my revenge for that remark but not today.
Chapter 7

The next morning at the end of breakfast, Madame Cillenc came into the dining room. "You, Zena and D'zara, are to learn flower arranging today. Jadeia will instruct you. Your first assignment will be to go into the gardens and select flowers."

I was delighted at the prospect of spending the morning with my closest friends in the harem, but caution always warned me to not act overly intimate with either of them when others were around.

Carrying woven baskets, we entered the gardens.

"The first thing you need to know," Jadeia said, "is that the royals' favorite color is purple, the darker the better. Flower arrangements usually include pale flowers, like white and cream roses, to emphasize the purple. Depending on the season, we may add green ferns, dogwood, or crabapple blossoms. No bright colors other than purple are permitted for royal arrangements."

"What happens to the other flowers?" I pointed to some bright pink and yellow tulips and the brilliant blue moonflower, a plant native to Dolocairn.

"They go to administrators, lower-level bureaucrats, and, of course, the harem. In fact, the rules are opposite for such arrangements. Those who aren't royal aren't allowed to have purple flowers."

That seemed easy to remember.

"And we don't personally pick the flowers. We choose them, and Nathan or another gardener will do that and must be wearing gloves. We wear gloves, as well, when we arrange the flowers."

Great Dragon forbid that our slave-tainted fingers should touch the flower arrangements of the exalted rulers.

She walked us along the flowerbeds, pointing out different species of purple flowers. Foremost were the orchids, which I found easy to identify. Others included cyclamen, gladiola, heliotrope, crocuses, irises, lilacs, morning glories, pansies, and on and on until my head began to feel dizzy, both from trying to remember the names and from the dizzying array of scents.

Fortunately, Jadeia halted the lesson before I passed out. "We'll come again tomorrow, and I'll see how much you've retained."

On our way out, we passed Nathan. He was transplanting plants into a new flowerbed. The earth smelled rich and wet, another intoxicating aroma to add to the fragrance soup being stirred in my head. Perhaps that's why the sight of the delicate plants finding roots in the loamy soil moved me. They seemed so fragile, so tiny; yet they would thrive with his care.

He smiled at us and looked as if he wanted to say something, but then he ducked his head.

"Something about him," D'zara said when we went to my room to talk.

"I hope you're not impressed by his royal blood."

City and country people had opposite attitudes about the royal families. The desert villagers tended to be fiercely independent. The wind and sand shaped us as surely as they carved the rocks and mountains of our home. We relied on ourselves and on the strength of our traditions. The king and his family represented a distant power that had little impact on our lives.

People who lived in the cities were more likely to actually receive royal visits from time to time, and these were occasions of great ceremony. Residents were hustled to the streets to cheer their ruler, and the children raced into the streets to capture the coins the king's servants scattered about.

The officials, too, served as a reminder of the king's power. Tax collectors abounded, and representatives of the military enforced the laws of the land. These functionaries rarely bothered those who lived in the desert, especially the deep desert. We had scared them away with stories of giant dragons and snakes, deadly sandstorms, and flash floods.

D'zara displayed the good sense I had come to expect of her. "As a child, I believed that the king was the protector of the people. Recent history has proven otherwise. Where was his protection when the Tamarans marched into our country?"

"I wonder how Nathan feels about that? Here he is, a prisoner, a slave, just like all the people the leader of his family was supposed to protect. Does he think of the broken promises when he sees the rest of us? Is he angry that the Etrenzian king couldn't even protect him?"

"If that's the case, he hides it well," D'zara said. "He bears watching."

We went into the garden every morning for a week, and each time Nathan greeted us with a shy smile. On the last day, he beckoned me to a wall covered with ivy and bent down to show me a flower. When I leaned down to join him, he discreetly handed me a piece of paper.

When our time in the garden was over, I ran to my room and read it. Nathan had written in a cramped hand.

"Can I trust you?"

I wanted to go into a focused state in order to find an answer to his question, but I was too angry. Why did everyone want to recruit me into fantasies of rebellion?

My belly twanged in response, and I remembered the dragon's talon and Jadeia saying he had planted his essence in my so-called aura. Was it true? And so what if it was? He had chosen me without asking whether I wanted to be chosen.

But what if I had asked? Why had I stayed out of the cave after everyone else went in? Had destiny called me? Etrenzians weren't supposed to believe in destiny. Had the presence of Dolocairners and Tamarans contaminated even my beliefs?

And what if Etrenzians were wrong about destiny? a voice that surely wasn't Great Intelligence whispered.

I held my throbbing head between my hands and slowly inhaled and exhaled. I grew calmer. Somewhere, tangled up in my chaotic thoughts was an answer.

Sitting, on the bed, cross-legged, my back straight, I again followed my breath. Energy rose from the base of my spine, curving and undulating like a snake mesmerized by a charmer. A soft fire spread through me, sparking a series of vivid images that elaborated on the red dragon's vision.

I saw slaves gathering together in small groups that grew and spread. The energy that shivered through me also filled them. They knew how to find each other. They learned trust. They built communities. They grew strong.

I had given careful thought to D'zara's suggestion that a slave rebellion might advance my plans for escape and had concluded that I couldn't fault her logic. However, if I saw myself prominent in these visions as I had in the dragon-smoke hallucinations, I would reject her proposal as too tempting to my still-hovering need for importance and too threatening to my desire for survival.

I focused more deeply on my visions and saw with relief that I appeared in none of these stirring scenes. This told me that the dragon had been full of hot air and that I could safely, in my own quiet and advisory way, advance a rebellion.

How else could I give the rebellion life? I had a distant memory of my father telling me that long ago the great sorcerers had the ability to create powerful images and to breathe life into them through focused meditation.

"Sadly, we lost this gift," he'd said.

My logical mind told me that a half-trained young woman like myself would be most unlikely to have the ability to resurrect such an ancient and esoteric practice, but perhaps this ability lay coiled within me like a snake sleeping in the sun.

I went deeper into the visions and saw Nathan leading in every episode. That meant I needed to trust him—within limits. He was still a prince.

The next morning, when I passed him in the garden, I nodded briefly. His eyes lit up, and he began to sing an old Etrenzian war song that no Tamaran had ever heard.

I hadn't neglected my practice of hypnosis. Small efforts had proven successful. The Tamaran harem slaves had, as I'd hoped, been receptive to the suggestions I'd planted in their minds.

One of them would be sitting in apparent ease on a couch, and I would project the mental suggestion that she was desperately thirsty. She would jump up, clutch her throat, and say, "I'm parched. I must get a glass of water."

I'd also managed to get one of the rounder Dolocairner women to consistently turn down dessert at the end of dinner.

After my exchange with Nathan, I decided to take my explorations to a deeper level. I forewarned D'zara.

"I want to get Lomilla to say something she really likes about me."

D'zara snorted. "If you can do that, we're in business. I promise not to act surprised if you succeed."

That night after dinner, I engaged in casual conversation with a few of the Dolocairner women while dedicating one part of my mind towards influencing Lomilla, who was being her usual shallow self, discussing hair and makeup with another Tamaran.

"But I really wish I had hair like Zena's," she said, looking at me. "Your hair shines so beautifully, like a polished piece of obsidian. It makes you beautiful."

Though D'zara didn't say a word, her eyes widened.

I withdrew my attention from Lomilla, and she again ignored me, returning to her previous conversation.

I learned a lot from that experiment. Focused attention could influence a person's attitude, but as soon as that attention was withdrawn, the attitude disappeared.

I needed a bigger challenge.

"Do you think I could influence Madame Cillenc's mind?" I asked D'zara.

"If you succeed in that, I'll hail you as the Sorceress of Etrenzia. I see risks. Have you ever noticed any evidence that she has mind powers?"

I thought about that. "No, I only see her using fear and intimidation to exercise power over people. Her speech lacks any cleverness. She never tries to mentally trip up people."

"Observe her," D'zara said. "I don't know how you do any of this, but examine her mind if you can. The last thing you want is to get caught at this."

Cillenc came by the dining room the next morning, as we were finishing breakfast. "Today, I will want to see you arranging some flowers," she said to D'zara and me.

I looked her straight in the eyes. She was attempting to intimidate me with her voice and her expression, but I sensed no invisible tendrils of mind control. I thought I'd try a little experiment when she came for the flower arranging.

Here I must mention that my talents in this area were indifferent. I understood the value Tamarans gave to pleasing shapes and flowing design, but the time, energy, and water wasted on plants that would be dying by the end of the day frankly disgusted me. My attitude usually showed up in my arrangements.

"Will this be a royal flower arrangement?" I asked Madame Cillenc.

"Yes, and I'm glad you asked. That tells me that you've learned something."

I've learned a lot, I hummed silently. While she watched, I stuck some irises, delphiniums, and round white flowers into a bowl. As I did so, I streamed the thought that this was a beautiful flower arrangement worthy of a royal household.

"Quite nice," Madame Cillenc said. "I would suggest some sprays of ferns in addition, but you've learned how to do this very well."

She left the room without another word.

Once we could no longer hear her footsteps, D'zara quickly rearranged the flowers into a design that even I could see was stunning.

"In case she returns and sees how truly mediocre your arrangement was," she said.

As always, I had to admire her meticulous mind, but I also wanted some praise for my gift.

"What do you think of my technique?"

"I say that the possibilities are endless, great Sorceress."
Chapter 8

I decided to direct some of my visualizations toward a specific end: avoiding sex with the Emperor. I could have made it meaningless on a physical level, but my being cried out against such violation. My father's training also warned me that demeaning sexual activity might weaken my psychic gift.

"It doesn't have to be demeaning," D'zara said. "Remember what the others advised. I plan to go blank when it happens. This man demeans only himself. He can do nothing to quell my spirit or my sense of self."

I knew the wisdom of such an approach. To even believe that I could be violated represented giving someone else power over me. What was sex between a man and a woman but the insertion of one organ into another? I could think of it as an act of carpentry.

But I knew the act involved smells and heavy breathing, and large, unpleasant bodies. This awareness undermined the concept of hammers, nails, and wooden boards.

If I had to endure it, I would, but I saw no harm in trying to avoid it.

"And I don't see how your gifts, impressive as they are, can prevent sex."

I was a little vague on this as well. That night, after doing my daily visualization of a growing community of rebellious slaves (a meditation that gained strength every time I did it), I set my mind to working on the challenge.

It would be easy to plant the suggestion that he found me physically undesirable, but that could result in my expulsion from the harem. I rejected this idea.

Could I fill his mind with delights so great that they replaced the need for sex? This seemed much more promising. I filed it away for future exploration.

The most far-reaching possibility would be to convince him that he'd actually had sex with me without having physically had it. Could I mentally induce a climax in him? I warned myself against exaggerating my belief in my mind-bending abilities.

In the end, I would have to meet him and take his measure before deciding on the best strategy. Meanwhile, I visualized a life free of unwanted sexual attention.

That opportunity to take the Emperor's measure came sooner than I'd expected.

After dinner the next night, Madame Cillenc came into the sitting room. "All the Dolocairner and Etrenzian girls must shower and put on their finest gowns. The Emperor is coming in an hour to inspect you."

Inspect! I had to close my eyes because I believed at that moment they could have burned the life out of anyone nearby.

Even a shower failed to quench my fire. Longing for the ordinary trousers and tunic from my free life in Etrenzia, I flung on my "fine gown," arranged my hair, and put on the required makeup. I looked like a painted doll.

We returned to the sitting room, and Madame Cillenc prodded us into a line. "Keep your eyes downcast. Don't look directly at the Emperor unless he orders you to do so. If he speaks to you, answer in a few words, and always say, 'Your Highness.'"

We stood in silence. Heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway, and an overwhelming odor of incense and nose-burning essential oils filled the room.

"Prostrate yourself before your ruler," a deep voice said.

We lay flat on the rug. The footsteps came closer, and I was looking at a pair of sandaled feet. The toes were covered with thick calluses. The feet smelled sweaty. My nose twitched.

"You may rise."

I got up awkwardly, remembering to keep my eyes downcast. The body opposite mine had thick, hairy legs partially covered by a tunic of silk so fine it seemed to sing as it swayed back and forth.

"Girl, look at me."

I raised my eyes to look at a face that at first appeared to be that of an ordinary middle-aged Tamaran. Decades of soft living were reflected in flabby skin and jowls, the eyes buried in cushions of fat.

Those eyes, though, glowed with a lazy malevolence, like that of a serpent who had just eaten.

"Where was this girl captured?" the Emperor asked Madame Cillenc.

"Some hole-in-the-wall cliff dwelling," she said. "Savages living with goats."

"Is she a virgin?"

"She is."

He went on the next girl, Jadeia. "Have I seen you before?"

"Yes," she said in a low voice.

"Strange that I didn't notice you." He turned to Cillenc. "Send her to me later."

Jadeia remained perfectly still, but I sensed her inward trembling. I realized how much I had come to care for the mountain girl. Tonight I would direct part of my meditation to her safety. Tomorrow I would do whatever I could to comfort her.

"He didn't even look at me," D'zara whispered. "I almost feel guilty."

"And I feel as if Jadeia gave me the so-called gift of intuition and sensing," I said. "To me, it's a curse. I can imagine what she's going through."

"Don't. I know nothing about this gift or curse, but what if your feelings magnify what she's feeling?"

I immediately turned my attention to controlling my mind. Perhaps for Jadeia, who had been raised and trained with the sensing gift, it felt natural to have so deep an experience of life. For me, it was like running naked through a crowd of onlookers. I resolved that I would do all I could to avoid awakening it.

The decision to detach proved a wise one, for later that night when Jadeia returned, slightly rumpled, her face wore no evidence of abuse or suffering.

As soon as she had the opportunity to get us alone, she told us what had happened.

"Hardly anything. He wasted no time in foreplay. One little pump, and he was finished. I don't even think I lost my virginity. I wasn't bleeding."

"Was he angry?" D'zara asked.

"Do you think my head would be attached to my neck if he was? No, he laughed and lightly slapped me on the bottom. He said he'd be asking for me again. And he gave me this."

She pulled a ring with a glittering blue stone from a pocketed fold of her gown. "Sapphire. We mine them in my country. Diamonds have greater worth, but a sapphire is considered a precious gem."

Jadeia replaced it in the fold. "Not that it has any value to me now, but when I escape, I can sell it and start a new life."

When I escape. More than either D'zara or I, Jadeia had faith. We would draw on that faith often.

The Emperor called for Jadeia every night that week, repeating both his lackluster performance and gift giving. She returned with pendants, bracelets, and pins. I found a small box for them. We placed the box beneath her bed, and I made both an invisibility and a binding spell.

"Only the three of us will be able to find it," I said. "Jadeia, would you share them if they could help us escape?"

The Dolocairner girl's eyes deepened to the color of the sapphire that had been her first gift. "We'll need money, won't we?"

Her question made me aware of how much we'd need. We didn't even know the layout of Tamtown, and I remembered the bewildering way the streets zigzagged. We'd need clothes that didn't identify us as harem slaves. Who knew what else?

It occurred to me that Nathan, who'd travelled outside the harem, would at least be able to draw a map of the city. I needed to speak with him.

"We'll figure it out."

Jadeia nodded with the perfect trust that I didn't deserve—yet.

A few days later, Madame Cillenc came to me. "The Emperor will be calling for you soon, but he wishes your skin to be darker. He believes that your confinement in the harem has faded your complexion. Therefore, you will spend one hour a day out in the gardens in the sun."

Her mouth curled in a sour twist. "Who says slaves have difficult lives?"

I did, but I had been longing for the sun, even though the Tamaran version seemed to extend its beams in a lazy, almost half-hearted way. That morning, a guard led me to a long chair he called a "lounge" and left me with a large clay water container that had clearly been made in Etrenzia.

The mural that circled it depicted a scene from a great victory of our people over the Tamarans. Needless to say, this had happened a long time ago, but it comforted me to be reminded of a glorious past that might hold the seeds for an even more glorious future.

I'd been lying there for a few minutes when I heard the scraping of a broom. Looking up, I saw Nathan sweeping with great industry.

"I'll have to come back with a bucket," he said.

To my surprise, he spoke in the dialect of the deep desert. I raised my eyebrows.

"I know many languages," he said, "but I prefer that the Tamarans think I'm stupid and that they think none of us are smart enough to make plans. Their own stupidity helps us immeasurably."

Nathan's ability to pass off his note had shown some skill, but, as I've noted, Tamaran guards weren't the ripest coconuts on the tree. You could do almost anything short of murder, and they wouldn't notice.

This confirmation of the prince's intelligence reinforced my decision to give him limited trust. I wondered whether he'd had anything to do with my regime of sunbathing and asked him.

He looked up at the sky. "The Emperor is grooming me to be a humble and obedient client ruler. As such, I'm entitled to give him advice—in a servile manner, of course. I told him that the darkest Etrenzian girls are the most highly prized."

That was the simple truth. "And you thought he'd have me sent out for some baking?"

"You or D'zara. She's the steadier of you two, but you"—he lowered his voice—"have the gift."

"You don't know who I am," I whispered.

"As it happens, I do. The surname Vash'ti would mean nothing in Tamaras, but I remember when your father displayed his art to the Etrenzian court. We were all very impressed. Your eyes are like his; you walk in the way he did, with a manner of power."

I refused his naked attempt to feed my vanity. Something deeper gained strength from his words: a sense of purpose and confidence, though I wasn't signing up for his "us."

Nathan exited with the broom and a few minutes later returned with a steaming bucket of soapy water and a scraping brush. He positioned himself and his equipment close to my lounge and spoke in a rapid, low voice.

"I am speaking to slaves all the time. Conditions are getting worse everywhere. The Tamarans have, with their typical lack of planning, captured more people than they can afford to feed, and the Emperor pays no mind.

"He doesn't have the absolute power you think, though. Businessmen here run almost everything. The less money they spend on maintaining the slaves, the greater their profit, but there may be costs they haven't expected."

He scrubbed at a particularly stubborn lump of bird shit. "They think the Imperial Army costs too much to maintain. They believe that Tamaras may be overextending itself by having troops ruling such unreliable countries as Dolocairn and Etrenzia and that the expenses eat up the profit. They're evaluating the likeliest slaves and promising them decent lives if they return to their lands and serve the empire's interests."

"Is that strategy working?" I asked.

"You can find traitors anywhere, so some will go along. Others, though, are pretending in order to learn as much as they can."

He looked into the bucket. "Time for fresh water."

While he was gone, I turned over to cook my back and focus my mind.

I was delighted to hear that the country was falling apart. It appeared that the Emperor ruled solely by the permission of the business community. They were dissatisfied by the scope of his military campaigns for financial reasons. However, they favored the idea of profitable colonies. They weren't friends to the slaves, and if they overthrew the Emperor or made him totally powerless, the slaves would gain no advantage, and the harem slaves would probably get demoted in status.

Logically, this meant that the rebels had to conquer many more enemies than we'd anticipated. Probably the business community was like the well-known Etrenzian monster who was a giant snake with countless tendrils. Every time one tried to cut off a tendril, another grew in its place.

Nathan could only win if we could somehow persuade the business community that it would profit them more to release the slaves.

To tell him this would be to serve the role of an advisor, but because I was an incurably honest Etrenzian, I felt obliged to also tell him that I had no plans for direct participation in the rebellion.

I did so the moment he returned, and even today, my writing hand trembles when I remember the princely arrogance of his reply.

"I think you don't know yourself very well," he said in a voice that dripped condescension. "You're so fiery."

I vowed that if he said anything about fire dragons, I'd hit him, but he lacked Jadeia's intuitive perception.

What he said was almost worse. "And don't you think it's very selfish to think only of your escape from slavery?"

Selfish was close to self-indulgent, and ego lived next door. Yet that realization told me that he was wrong.

"Unlike you, I don't want to be a hero. I don't want to be loved and worshipped as the leader of the people. If I have gifts, I can best use them to give advice. I told you I would do this."

He looked ready to speak, but I cut him off. "You're the one who doesn't know me, and I don't know you. We come from different worlds. Listen to my advice or not, and keep your judgments to yourself."

He backed off, but his arrogance remained. "Tell me, then." He spoke the phrase as if it were a royal command.

I told him my thoughts, and he nodded. "Your advice gives the idea of getting to know the business leaders. I'll tell the Emperor that I might be able to help make ruling Etrenzia more cost-effective. He'll have no idea of what I'm saying, so he'll summon whoever the big business leaders are. And then I'll study them, and someone will make a connection with the slaves who work directly for them."

"Are you going to kill people?" I asked in the lowest voice I could manage.

"I don't see how we can avoid it. Don't you think they deserve it?"

I did, but some voice (I hoped it wasn't that of the big red dragon) whispered that we wanted something bigger and nobler than the usual bloody rebellion. I didn't like how easily the word, "we," had slipped into my thoughts.

"Don't you?" he repeated.

Fortunately, the guard came to take me back to the harem.

Chapter 9

The exposure to the sun had relaxed me so much that I fell into bed and had an unusual dream. It was actually two dreams running in tandem. In one, the slaves engaged in a violent revolution. Bodies lay everywhere. The streets really did run with blood, and even the sea near the sand was bloody.

The dream advanced several decades. The Tamarans, humiliated by their defeat and seeking revenge for those they'd lost, continued to attack Etrenzia. My people fought back bravely, and their great losses ignited their own desire for revenge. This cycle showed no sign of ever ending.

In the parallel dream, the slaves, led by Nathan, sued for peace. Somehow, they managed to convince the businesspeople first that supporting the Emperor wasn't good business. They suggested that these vast sums, plus the money saved by dismantling the military, could be used to build a profitable alliance between Tamaras and the independent nations of Etrenzia and Dolocairn. The businesspeople bought it, and an era of peace and prosperity began.

I shook my head when I woke up. One would have thought I'd been smoking the pollen of the poppy flower. What an impossible dream.

D'zara and I usually met before dinner in her room or mine. When she came to my room that evening, I told her about my dream. I expected her to laugh, but she grew thoughtful.

"I can see the reality of it of the first vision. The slaves are already longing for revenge. Those seeds are well planted. No one has planted seeds of peace."

"And that means that even if we manage to escape to our country, war will continue. We could be captured again or killed."

It seemed so hopeless, and in my state of dejection, Nathan's words about my selfishness festered. I told D'zara what he'd said and my response.

"Tell me the truth. Do you agree with him?"

"I don't agree with why he said it." Anger sharpened her voice. "He was really saying that everyone should go along with him. For all we know, he plans to use a rebellion to make himself king of Etrenzia."

Hearing that helped a little, but she'd cleverly detoured around my question.

"D'zara."

She slumped on my bed. "My thoughts are entangled. If I want you to lead this, it's probably because I believe that you'd help me win my freedom. That means I'm selfish, too. Maybe the world is full of selfish people, and if enough of them see that their selfish interests interlock and come together, things change. That's not a very romantic view."

"Etrenzians aren't romantic. But what about the ones who feel the suffering of others as their own and risk their lives to save them?"

"Dolocairners."

We laughed, but my mirth had a bitter tinge. Something in me wanted to experience that pure-hearted self-sacrifice. The stronger that feeling grew, the more it frightened me.

I pulled back from the precipice of emotional flooding to find my logical center. In that much safer place, I decided what Nathan had casually condemned as selfishness was a self-protective sense that trusting others—with a few carefully chosen exceptions—was dangerous. I still thought that was true. It wasn't like we were planning a festive outing.

D'zara agreed with my conclusions. "Then what advice could minimize the violence?"

I gratefully turned my thoughts to that logical question. "Nathan could have an effect here. He's positioned himself well by pretending docility. Under the pretense of asking the business leaders what they intend for Etrenzia, he could introduce some of the ideas in my dream."

"The Emperor stands in the way of any such plans, though," D'zara said. "He has to be eliminated."

"Through death?"

"How else?"

I was no sentimentalist. The Emperor and his army had been responsible for the death of countless Etrenzians. Retribution made logical sense. Furthermore, D'zara was right to say that if he were to remain alive with any amount of power, he would present an obstacle to accommodations with the business leaders.

I also knew that if I were forced to have sex with him, the idea of murder would become very attractive.

Yes, the Emperor was dispensable.

The next morning, Nathan came over to clean another shit-encrusted patch of walkway. I pretended that we hadn't exchanged angry words the day before and told him of my dream.

"I hadn't seen it that way," he said. "The Dolocairners are generally peaceful people except for their cattle raids, which are more like recreation than anything else. Those slaves would welcome a nonviolent solution. We Etrenzians, though, seem to have violence in our blood."

"All the more reason to find some way to stem it."

"Yes. I appreciate your long-term view from the dream. We're not just fighting for today but for tomorrow and all the tomorrows. What use is winning our freedom temporarily if we lose it again and again?"

"What about Dolocairn?" I asked him. "Does Tamaras have plans to install a puppet there?"

"The situation is very different. The priestesses run that country. The Tamarans who have gone in to administer it have deprived them of most of their power, but they fear the consequences of wiping out the priestesses. The Dolocairners would rise."

"And I suppose it would be difficult to install a puppet priestess," I said.

"From the little I understand, the training is long and arduous. The High Priestess achieves her rank through merit. An outsider couldn't replace her."

"What about a priestess in training? Jadeia was learning, but she was a novice."

He shook his head. "She would still lack whatever training is involved. I admit that Dolocairn remains a mystery to me. Its people mainly work in the fields, and many of them come from families that have been enslaved for hundreds of years. They have little sense of Dolocairn as their homeland. They, do, however, long for freedom as fiercely as we do."

"And this intuition they claim to possess?"

He made a face. "I don't have to tell you how alien an idea that is to us, and you only have to look at the culture of that country to see how ineffective it is. The average Dolocairner believes that his white dragons are angels and that the priestesses are holy and entitled to a large percentage of the money he earns toiling in the fields, sometimes under terrible conditions. They are superstitious and sentimental. Once we've won our freedom, they'll make their own plans for regaining their country."

"And the Tamarans?"

"Lazy, as we well know, except for the slaves, who are actually forced to work. They aren't the worst, and they, too, want freedom. They have the advantage of greater familiarity with how this country works. They can go places where we can't."

"But in the end can they be trusted? I would only trust one of my Tamaran harem mates."

"That's wise. I'm very cautious with them, too. Promises of comfort will win them over far too often."

"One more thing," I said. "I understand you play the drums."

He nodded. "I've been thinking about that."

"Could you interest the Emperor in a performance? Dancing, singing, drumming, preferably outside so that the sound will travel."

"I'll suggest it. He likes to pretend to be a man of culture. Maybe you could mention it too—when you see him."

He paused. "I'm sorry that you must see him."

Every morning we continued to discuss ideas. Often the royal cats came outside to sun themselves on the cleaned portions of the walkways. I grew fond of them.

"They know the royal family better than anyone," I said, "and perhaps other favored cats live in the homes of the business people."

"Tamarans pamper cats," Nathan said. "To them, they represent the ideal of sensuality and ease. These ones aren't like our hardy Etrenzians."

One of the cats arched her back and hissed. Her eyes narrowed to sulphurous slits.

"You'd think she actually understood us," Nathan said.

The cat swatted him with her paw and walked away, tail high.

At the end of the week, Madame Cillenc examined me. "You'll do. You'll need to continue the sunbathing regularly, but I believe that the Emperor will find your complexion suitable. Tonight you will go to him."

I wanted to vomit. Instead, I ran to D'zara and, despite my resistance to this act of emotionality, wept.

She was rigorous with me. "I know how unlike you this is, and I know that you're going to hate yourself for it if you carry on too long. Remember what Jadeia said: one little pump. He still hasn't taken her virginity. How many times do I have to tell you that you'll only be despoiled if you think you are?"

I had to lose this fear before I vomited. "I need to be alone now to meditate."

I sat, cross-legged, on the bed and went inward. D'zara was right. A slave did what she needed to do in order to survive. If emotional Jadeia could survive her experiences with the Emperor, surely I, the tough-minded Etrenzian, could emerge unscathed.

Hard as I tried, though, I couldn't fight back the fear, which rolled in like the ocean waves, hissing foam. I was shaking on the bed when I felt a small thump. It was that cat again. She pushed her head beneath my hand and purred loudly. That purr flowed through me, seeking and finding every rigid knot of fear, unraveling each. Slowly, my body began to relax.

I lifted my head, and she looked at me. I had a picture of myself, an old woman, remembering my life and realizing how small this incident, which now seemed so huge, would appear against the backdrop of my life.

I petted the cat for a long time. As I was falling asleep, she pressed against my side, still purring.

Cillenc woke me up an hour before my appointment with the Emperor.

"And they say Tamarans are lazy. Jump up, girl. Be late for the Emperor, and it's the last appointment you'll ever miss."

I leapt out of bed. My nap had cleared my head enough that I could find another way to understand the forthcoming—I quickly substituted the automatic word, "ordeal," with "encounter." Maybe I could view it as the first major test of my power. If I could manipulate the Emperor's mind, this might be a beginning.

Ellura brought me a special gown for my visit to the Emperor. It was made of the softest, thinnest silk I'd yet seen in a pale shade of aquamarine threaded with silver. A brooch attached it to one shoulder; the other was bare. A silver silken belt encircled my waist, and I wore a pair of silver sandals.

"You look stunning," she said. "The Emperor will be pleased."

I shrugged, and she said, "It makes things easier."

A guard led me down a hallway lined with silk hangings to the royal quarters. When we reached a gold-plated door, he said softly, "Your slave."

"Enter."

I thought I'd seen the utmost in decadence during my months at the palace, but all previous displays paled before the décor of the Emperor's chambers. Crystal chandeliers alit with candles scattered rainbows everywhere. The rug was so thick that I could barely walk on it.

The Emperor lay on a bed with an emerald canopy. Shimmering bedclothes in various shades of green covered the bed. He wore a pale green brocaded gown open in unfortunate places that revealed his girth. His stomach was as pale as a desert moon.

He dismissed the guard with a wave of his hand and beckoned me to sit on a gilt chair. Beside it lay an Etrenzian flute.

"I understand that you play," he said, "and that your father was a renowned snake charmer. Is this true?"

Nathan must have told him. He would be hearing from me. "Yes . . . sir."

"You may call me Your Eminence."

When it snowed on the Etrenzian desert.

"Play for me."

I picked up the flute and tested the sound, which was excellent. I wondered what had happened to its original owner. Captured? Dead? Or had he fled in a hurry and left his precious instrument behind? Few flute masters would do so.

"What shall I play?" I asked him, leaving out the "Your Eminence."

"One of your ballads, a love song."

Etrenzians didn't write love songs, but I saw no reason to tell him this. Instead, I played an appropriately mournful tune, a lament for the death of a brave warrior.

Halfway through my performance, I noticed movement in a corner of the room. A series of coils began to undulate towards me. I stilled my heart. It was a d'maranq, a snake whose venom acted quickly and fatally.

I used every gift of snake charming I had ever learned, making the melody of the song curve and twist in a reptilian manner. The snake rose and swayed back and forth, its eyes closed in what I hoped was ecstasy.

You are at peace, I thought. You are in a state of quiet joy. When I finish the song, you will silently slither back to wherever you came from.

I drew out the ending into a series of slow, plaintive notes. The snake fell back to the floor and returned to its lair.

The sudden quiet was interrupted by a cry like the screech of a wounded big cat. The bed bounced with the Emperor's writhing. Then he was still.

I, too, was still, the flute sitting in my lap.

"Exquisite," the Emperor finally said in a breathless voice. "I have never seen or heard a performance so fine. Let me add that you are an extremely brave young woman. You know, of course, what kind of snake that was."

"The most deadly." I said. "I am surprised to find it in your bedchamber."

"I usually keep it caged in the royal menagerie. Just before your performance, its handler milked out its venom. I have a collection of venomous snakes that are milked daily. Our scientists are researching healing uses for the venom."

"So you knew you were in no danger?" I doubted that he cared whether I was.

He seemed to have forgotten his instructions about the honorific. "In theory. Of course, one must always consider the possibility that the handler might have forgotten or not milked enough. It adds a certain flavor to the . . . experience."

As did, I supposed, the possibility that the helpless slave girl might fail to charm the snake and receive a fatal bite.

"You have provided me with sublime entertainment." The Emperor reached into a jeweled box on a bedside table and drew out a bracelet of glittering green stones.

"Emeralds, my favorite," he said, "set with a few diamonds to accent them. You may leave. I won't want your services for a week or so. An experience like that shouldn't be repeated too frequently."

I couldn't have agreed more.
Chapter 10

D'zara and Jadeia had to cover their mouths to avoid raucous laughter. I waited until they'd settled down before saying, "But I didn't get the chance to use my hypnotic skills."

"Are you serious?" Jadeia demanded. "You used them the moment you began to play the flute. You hypnotized both the snake and the Emperor. Genius."

"I agree," D'zara said. "I'm so impressed. And you fulfilled your vision of his climaxing without your direct participation. And you're still a virgin."

There was that.

I was somewhat shy about telling Nathan the story of my encounter with the Emperor, but for the sake of our ultimate freedom, I decided I must. He flushed a little when I mentioned the climax but listened keenly to the rest of the story.

"The venom collection might have value, although I'm not sure how," he said. "Certainly, it's important to know that it exists. I must try to determine exactly where the Emperor houses his collection of snakes."

"I would imagine they're not too happy." No more than I was, far from the comfort of sand and stones.

"No, but I doubt that they could be organized to rebel."

The human rebellion was proceeding at a slow pace. The slaves wanted freedom but were afraid to take the necessary risks. Nathan stressed the importance of building networks gradually. Too much and too rapid recruitment would collect spies and traitors.

"Not that we can avoid them completely," he said. "But we have established a system to ensure that we check on the movements of anyone we suspect. And, though I think little of Dolocairner intuition, I have to admit that they've identified some people who proved to be disloyal."

I wanted to discuss this with Jadeia. We met in a little-used room of the harem and spoke quietly in the deep desert dialect that she'd learned quickly.

"How foolish," she said, "to think little of something when evidence proves it works. Using that same gift of intuition, I told you which harem women you could trust. Have you discovered my observations to be true?"

"Without exception."

"Perhaps you would be willing to explore this subject further."

I felt a sudden interest. "Tell me more."

"I'll begin by saying that you're one of the few people who use logic in an honest, searching manner. Yet, even you are trapped by habit."

This offended me. "How?"

"How easily have you accepted the idea that Tamarans are all lazy and sensuous?"

"Everyone knows—"

"Exactly. Your parents and the people of your village said from the time you first had ears to hear that this was the truth about Tamarans. Having that belief, you interpret everything you observe about them through that filter."

"But Ellura—"

"You make her an exception. She is warm and helpful. She looks out for us."

"You said that the others were spies."

"I didn't say they were stupid, did I?"

She hadn't.

"And what about Nathan? I have been studying him, and I admit to nervousness that he's a prince from a warrior race."

Although the subject was quite serious, I grinned at her. "Are you sure that isn't a prejudice?"

She laughed with genuine delight. "Oh, very good. I do enjoy logic when someone wields it like a finely sharpened knife. What would you say about your people?"

"I'd say that you're right. Even though it's illogical, we were taught to prefer death to dishonor. However, I have seen a different and more peaceful vision."

Her eyes widened. "Then the white dragons have answered my prayers. Did you experience a sense of something you couldn't explain, a leaning in a direction that seemed unreasonable?"

"I still think it's unreasonable."

"Because reason is safe. Intuition leads you away from the well-worn paths of safety. Logic says, 'If I do this, that will happen.' Intuition says, 'If I do this, I don't know what will happen, but I must follow this path.'"

"And what if you're wrong?"

She shrugged. "I don't say that intuition is infallible. It's always dangerous to follow an unknown path. But what if it's the path to freedom?"

On my fourth visit to the Emperor, after the usual encounter with a poisonous snake and the explosive climax, I mentioned the idea of an Etrenzian cultural performance.

He rubbed his scraggly beard. "A conqueror does well to familiarize himself with the customs of the subjugated land."

I buried my rage.

"Yes, this promises to be amusing. While I would find a private performance delightful, I like the idea of inviting some of the business leaders to this event. And you say it would best be performed outside?"

"The sounds will have greater resonance," I said.

"I like that. Yes, you speak to Nathan and this dancing girl and find some singers, and I will set a date."

Nathan said that he could sing while drumming, but I thought that the higher range of women's voices would add to the atmosphere. Two of the Etrenzian harem slaves were accomplished singers. Cillenc, on orders from the Emperor, allowed us to use a small room for practicing.

First, though, she terrified Nathan, who was making his first visit inside the harem, with the threat of castration if he touched any of the women. It took him a few minutes to recover.

Soon, though, we were making music, singing, and dancing, and, if I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine a roaring fire, and the starry bowl of the Etrenzian sky.

The sounds drifted outside the room, and from time to time Etrenzian female slaves poked their heads into the rooms. They smiled, and one made a nearly invisible fist.

Nathan was playing a powerful message.

"People, we are rising.

Brave Etrenzians, reclaim your warrior pride.

We will cast off the chains of slavery.

We will triumph.

Speak to your brothers and sisters.

Spread the message.

Tell all those you trust

That the time to begin is now."

The night of the performance was a typically humid Tamaran evening. It was full summer now, and the sconces that lit up the tiled area the Emperor had chosen for the event attracted untold hordes of mosquitoes.

I tried to ignore them so that I could study the guests, four Tamaran businessmen. Like the Emperor, they were corpulent with prosperity. Their eyes, however, seemed to hold greater intelligence. Prior to the performance, they asked probing questions about this quaint cultural practice.

Nathan answered carefully. "Our musical celebrations represent the simple pleasures of a primitive people. Unlike Tamarans, we haven't developed more sophisticated stringed instruments. The drumming stands for the beating heart of Mother Earth."

"Which, as we know, doesn't exist," one businessman said.

"It pleases the most backward of our people to think so," Nathan said. "The flute playing, as you likely know, is used in snake charming."

"That's something I'd like to see," another businessman said.

The Emperor looked pleased. "We'll arrange an occasion for that. Zena is the daughter of a snake charmer, and she shows much prowess in that area."

"And the dancing," Nathan said, "is like dancing everywhere, serving as a release of tension and a simple art form."

With that introduction, we began.

Nathan played his message, over and over again. D'zara performed her dance so beautifully that my fingers trembled on the flute. I hated for them to see her. I feared that one of them would ask for her or that the Emperor would belatedly become aware of her desirability.

Everyone applauded with enthusiasm when the performance was over. Afterwards, refreshments were served, and we were allowed some wine and figs. Ignoring our presence, the businessmen and the Emperor discussed political and economic matters.

"The exploratory team I sent to the Empty Land has returned," one businessman said.

"And?" the Emperor asked.

"It's still empty, of course."

"Our cities are bursting with people," another said. "Housing is virtually unavailable in Tamtown. This constant importation of slaves must cease."

The Emperor frowned. "I have a use in mind for them."

"What?"

He suddenly seemed to become aware that we were still around. "Slaves, you are dismissed."

We left quietly, full of unanswered questions.

The Emperor congratulated me the next time I went to his chambers. "The businessmen enjoyed your little show. One of them expressed interest in that dancing girl."

I moved my hands into the folds of my dress and clenched them.

"But I have no plans to sell her. She dances too well. I believe I may reserve her for dancing only. It wouldn't do to ruin that body with a pregnancy, at least, not until I've gotten adequate use of her skills."

"The same is true of you. You're fortunate that I'm sophisticated. Most men wouldn't appreciate your gift."

Some sophistication: spurting semen practically to the ceiling. I paid, attention, though, to his deeper message.

Be glad for who I am; otherwise, you'd find yourself in a brothel.

The Emperor arranged for several more performances by the Etrenzian musical group. Each time, in addition to the basic "Rouse your spirit, fellow Etrenzians," Nathan added other messages.

"Speak to the Dolocairners, those you trust,

Even to the Tamarans you trust,

But be three times as suspicious of them."

"Almost anything can become a weapon.

Save and hide them."

"House slaves, learn your masters' weaknesses.

Field slaves, study the overseers."

"Form communities.

Become families."

Chapter 11

One day, in the bathhouse, Ellura whispered, "The best of the slaves are speaking quietly together. Spears and bows and arrows are stored all over this place. Little by very little, people are hiding them. They keep on asking: When?"

"I don't know. I'm not in charge."

Before she could challenge me on this, I changed the subject. "What do you want from this, whatever it's going to be?"

"Freedom."

"And what does that mean?"

"To no longer be a slave. To re-unite with my family." Her jaw sagged. "If they're alive."

I pushed against my own fears. What if I managed to escape and returned to an empty village?

But I would have freedom. Wasn't that the most important thing? Was it enough for the freed slaves to scatter? Wouldn't the revolt have greater chance of success if it had a larger goal, something that people would be willing to fight—and perhaps die—for?

But what?

By now I had been in captivity for a year. Etrenzia often seemed dreamlike. I couldn't imagine that I'd once worn coarse clothing and clambered up and down mountains like a little goat.

The open spaces and clean, dry air seemed equally unreal. Yet, one thread bound me to my homeland. Every time I picked up my flute to play and a magnificent snake began to sway at my command, Etrenzia and my father were very close.

Ever since the palace cat had appeared to comfort me before my first meeting with the Emperor, she'd been coming to my room, especially when I meditated. Her soft purring seemed to deepen my powers of focus. I had never had such a close relationship with an animal.

The Emperor continued to send for me once a week, and my jewelry collection grew large. Then he introduced something new.

He long since expressed a preference for me to wear shades of green in his presence, and most of the jewelry he gave me had emeralds. On this particular night, I wore a forest-green gown edged in gold thread.

"Lovely as always," he said. "Please remove the gown."

I tried to suppress my alarm and did as I was told.

He studied me. I noted with relief that no sexual glint sparked in his eyes.

"You've gained weight in a pleasing way since you first came to my chambers. I trust the harem cooks are feeding you well."

"Quite well." I didn't add that I would have given a lot for a good meal of crunchy fried grasshoppers.

He pointed to a comfortable armchair. "Sit in that and play the flute, please."

I arranged myself in a manner designed to hide as much of my body as possible and began to play. After a few minutes, I noticed the usual slithering motion from a corner of the room, but this was a different snake, a sark'a, the largest of the constrictors. Patterned in dark brown and cream, it undulated in a way I would have found beautiful if I hadn't been so terrified.

My father had never taught me how to charm a constrictor, and I didn't know if it was possible, but I was sure it was necessary. Maybe intuition would help.

Great king of the desert, I thought, how glorious and powerful you are. Do you, like me, miss the warm desert sands, the beating of the sun on your beautiful skin? Does your soul long for Etrenzia?

A shudder ran through the huge, elegant body. The serpent lifted his head and regarded me with eyes that seemed to hold deep sorrow. He came closer and, to my horror, wrapped his body around mine.

I thought I would faint, but, over the pounding of my heart, I thought I heard the words, I will not hurt you, sister warrior.

And he didn't. He squeezed so gently that it was almost an embrace.

The Emperor screamed out the usual shriek of ecstasy. After a long time, he spoke. "He has killed slaves, you know."

Although I didn't know this, I wasn't surprised. I wondered if the man had climaxed at the sight of death by strangulation.

"Somehow, I knew that wouldn't happen to you. You are truly a woman of the desert."

The snake gave me one tiny squeeze and uncoiled his body. He slithered away.

People talk about snakes having beady eyes, but no serpent ever gave me a look like the Emperor now did.

"You may get dressed," he said.

I was never happier to fling on a garment. Once I was covered, I stood up.

"I didn't say you were dismissed. Sit down. How would you feel about getting married and returning to Etrenzia?"

I felt more breathless than when the snake had been coiling around me. "Would you please say more?"

"Certainly. Did you know that the Etrenzian gardener is related to the former king?"

The Emperor was well aware that Nathan and I knew each other. Yet I believed it would be wise to act as if I had no interest in either him or his royal status.

"In the deep desert, we think little of the royal family. Here, he is a gardener."

The Emperor's smile was like the flicker of a snake's tongue. "I'm keeping him out of the way, but I have plans for him. He'll be going back to rule his country."

My mind was racing, and I didn't like its destination.

"It doesn't sound as if you find him attractive."

"He's . . . pleasant."

"Not an overwhelming response, but I understand that you Etrenzians don't believe in romance. My mind is virtually made up on this. He won't go back immediately; he requires much training. In a year or so, however, I intend to have him crowned as king. He will, of course, be subject to my will. It occurs to me that his welcome in Etrenzia would be heightened if he returned with a bride who is of the people, and who is more so than you?"

"A year, you say?"

"Yes, and the wedding will, of course, be in Etrenzia, a gala affair, with much free food distributed to the people. In the meantime, you can get to know him."

Then he dismissed me.

When I returned, I woke up both D'zara and Jadeia to tell them the news.

"What?" D'zara resembled a cat huge with fury. "You would do this? You would leave us?"

"Have I been given a choice?"

I was glad Jadeia was present to intervene. "He asked how you would feel about it but never waited for an answer. Calm yourself, D'zara. This event, which will never happen, is scheduled for a year from now. I pray that we'll be free by then. In the meantime, it gives Zena a perfect excuse to speak openly with Nathan."

D'zara had to huff and fume a little before restoring her temper to evenness. "I see the logic of that. But, Zena, tell me you would never do it."

I had no desire to marry. However, if I were forced to, Nathan, who exuded not one drop of sexuality, would be the ideal candidate. I kept this thought to myself.

I decided not to wait for the shy gardener to plight his troth. "Did the Emperor tell you we're to be married?" I asked him the following day in the gardens.

If possible, he looked shyer than ever. "He proposed it, but he said he planned to speak with you first to see if you had any objections."

"As if that would make a difference," I said.

"I could probably talk him out of it."

His neck straightened, and again I saw the evidence of his training as an exalted being. That head could easily accommodate a crown.

"The Emperor said it wouldn't happen for a year," I said. "I'll be blunt with you. If we haven't succeeded in freeing ourselves by then, I'll be open to re-discussion. Sorry if that's not the most romantic response."

"Etrenzians aren't romantic," he said.

That was what everyone, myself included, believed. Was it another example of stereotyped thinking? Etrenzians in Love: that would make a great addition to the sentimental plays that Tamarans adored—except that it would have no plot.

The question of marriage to Nathan became irrelevant a few weeks later as rumors swept the city and found their way to the harem.

Ellura was the first to tell me. "You know that vast, uninhabited area east of here? Tamaras is going to send settlers there."

I remembered the businessman who'd sent an exploratory team to the empty land. I knew vaguely where it was, but it had never held any interest for our village. Since Etrenzia was underpopulated, few of our citizens felt the need to seek out open spaces, especially when two mountain ranges stood in the way.

Tamaras, however, was overpopulated. The majority of the natives who'd become slaves had been swindled out of their small plots of lands by speculators and land grabbers.

"Do you know how that's going to work?" I asked.

"Many slaves will receive their freedom and plots of land in the Empty Land."

"To keep them from rising in unrest," D'zara said. "What about Dolocairner and Etrenzian slaves?"

"No mention has been made of moving them there."

I saw that this was the worst possible news.

When I visited with Nathan that morning in the gardens, he agreed. "Not that the Tamarans have been hugely active in the resistance, but this news will reduce their interest to zero. Already I hear reports that people have drifted away. They think they're going to be small, independent farmers again."

As I could determine the poisonous qualities of a plant, I now discovered that I could sense a lie.

"I don't think that will happen. Will the government really support those who go to the Empty Land? It's empty, right? No cottages or even huts await those who migrate there. What about farming equipment, livestock? Will they simply be thrown into the wilderness?"

Nathan's face grew bright with purpose. "These are good points that need to be circulated right away."

"What about the climate?"

"From what I hear, that's in its favor. It has no deserts, and the mountains that border Dolocairn act as barriers against its colder climate. It's not fiercely hot but warmer than Tamaras. At the southern part, a huge swamp borders the sea. It's rumored that an immense dragon lives there. A colony of dragons supposedly lives further down the coast."

Nathan picked up his bucket and prepared to leave. "Time to start planting the counter-rumors."
Chapter 12

None of the harem slaves shared the general excitement about the proposed settlement. "It's sure to be married couples first," said Menia, the only Tamaran slave besides Ellura who acted remotely friendly to me (or to any of the other slaves).

"And single men," a new Tamaran slave named Nalia added.

I mistrusted all Tamaran harem slaves unless my judgment was proven false, but I mistrusted Nalia more than most.

She flung her shining reddish hair over her shoulders. "That does open up the possibility of camp followers, but damned if I'm going to hike over a bunch of mountains and then spread my legs for former slaves."

I was about to point out that we were all presently slaves, but Menia said, "Not to mention living out in the open until housing is built. And what about the dragons?"

The rumor machine had worked quickly, but I wondered why dragons presented problems unless they were troublemakers, like a certain fire dragon.

"Do dragons live in Tamaras?" I asked.

"Yes, but I don't expect to ever see one," Menia said. "They live mainly in the center of the country. Didn't you ever hear about the city the government tried to build there around 700 years ago?"

I had not.

"It was going to be enormous, a capital that would be closer to Etrenzia and Dolocairn and thus useful for trade. The center also has very rich land suitable for farming. They were going to open up the entire area."

"Why didn't they?"

"Earthquakes destroyed the city when it was half-built. Countless slaves were killed and some free people, too. It was rumored that the dragons caused the earthquakes."

We had been too caught up in our discussion of the rumors to notice Madame Cillenc's entrance into the common room.

"Girls!" Her voice cut through the room like a fusillade of razors.

"Did I hear something about dragons?"

Menia's coffee-hued complexion faded. "I was only explaining a myth."

"Because you know, of course, that earthquakes are a natural phenomenon. To say otherwise makes Tamarans look like the idiots the Etrenzians claim us to be.

"And speaking of Etrenzians—" She walked over to me, looking even more enraged. I had no idea what I'd done.

"The Emperor wishes to see you again tonight. That's three nights in a row. Your jewelry collection must be growing."

I said nothing, and she walked away, seeming to exude steam.

After that, most of the girls melted away into their rooms. Menia signaled with a subtle hand movement for me to remain there.

"You'd better be careful," she whispered. "Cillenc had it in for you from the beginning, but now that the Emperor seems to be choosing you as a favorite, she hates you."

"But why? We were told from the beginning that our performances reflect on her. Logically, she should be pleased."

"You Etrenzians and your logic. Have you never heard of passion or violent emotions?"

"Of course, but we strive to keep them from influencing our attitudes and decisions."

"Not everyone has your self-control. Yes, Cillenc knows her responsibility, but she was once the Emperor's favorite. It's said that she believed he would choose her as his wife after his first one died. Instead, he married a wealthy woman and demoted Cillenc to her current position. She's never gotten over it, and she hates slaves whom he favors."

"But how can I be careful? If I lose favor with the Emperor, he has unlimited power to do what he wants to me."

Menia had no right to say I didn't understand passion. I was in the grip of the most powerful of all: fear.

She looked genuinely sad. "I know that plans are afoot, and don't worry, I'm not going to name names, but I believe that Cillenc suspects you."

I gasped.

"I'll do my best to protect you," she said. "Do you think I want my freedom any less than you do? I've been here longer. If they take you, I'll do the best I can to get you back here."

"Take me where?"

"I hope you'll never know." She rose and left the room.

The Emperor had no special snake surprises for me that night. He was smoking a pipe, and a thick, exotic fragrance filled the room. It reminded me of the smoke the fire dragon had exhaled, and for a moment I saw myself leading the armies of slaves.

These were not the kinds of delusions to be dreaming in the presence of the Emperor. I mentally blew them away.

"What's that?" I asked him.

"Opium, from the lovely poppy flower, Nature's greatest gift to man."

His voice was lazy and slow and thick as the smoke that wafted from the pipe. I remembered Nathan describing the addictive qualities of the poppy and wondered how often the Emperor smoked opium.

"Would you like some?" he asked me.

"No, thank you."

"Don't want to lose control of that fine Etrenzian mind?"

Malice jabbed through the haze of smoke.

I thought quickly.

"I am here to serve you, and to do so, I must be alert."

"You always have answers. Do you ever have questions?"

"Many."

"Ask."

I thought of one and wondered if I dared to ask it. "I know so little about this country. The Tamaran slaves tell me stories, but I don't know whether to believe them."

He coughed out laughter. "I wouldn't. The people of Tamaras are woefully uneducated."

As if he had nothing to do with that.

"What did they tell you?"

"That there was once a great earthquake in the center of the country."

An expression as dark as the rainclouds in the desert that produced flash floods crossed his face. I panicked and prepared a quick verbal retreat.

I bowed my head. "I offer my deepest apologies if this isn't a fit subject. I'm an ignorant Etrenzian slave who knows nothing of your customs. I won't ask any more questions."

I glanced at him through half-closed eyelids. His face had returned to its normal hue. "It was a sad time in Tamaran history. Many people died. Fortunes were lost."

I knew enough to be sure that this had been the greater tragedy.

"Why are you interested, Zena?"

"I've never heard of such a thing, where the earth heaves and parts."

"Doesn't the earth do strange things in Etrenzia? My soldiers have reported the sandstorms."

I saw an opportunity to both distract him from my apparent error and to frighten him about trying to permanently conquer the deep desert. "Yes, and they are terrible. A person caught in the middle of one could be buried alive or be flayed to death by the terrible force of the sand. And sometimes the entire geography of the land changes. One has to re-learn its dimensions."

"And these events occur regularly?"

"Not like clockwork," I said. "We can't predict when one will occur. Our wise ones say the dragons cause them."

He laughed loudly. "It's good to hear that the oh-so-logical, although also oh-so-defeated, Etrenzians can be as irrational as the most ignorant Tamaran. Dragons don't cause things. Certainly, one could kill you, but if they're more dangerous than lions or bears, it's only because they're much larger. I hope no one told you that dragons caused the earthquakes."

The poppy smoke that had settled in his eyes suddenly vanished. I couldn't have asked for more clear guidance on what not to say.

"They told me the land is rich and undeveloped, but how would they know? They've never been out of Tamtown."

"You show good sense. Show better sense and forget about that area in the center of Tamaras."

His anger was controlled, but it heated the room. I fell to my knees. "Forgive me, your Eminence. Somehow I've offended you, and I don't know in what way. Please tell me what I did, and I will do whatever I can to redeem myself."

"Just stop talking like an idiot," he said. "Be the intelligent girl I . . . I'm fond of. I half-regret promising you to that stupid boy. No matter, I can always change my mind. Even if I do keep my word, I see no reason why you couldn't return for long visits."

I could think of many reasons, but I smiled at him. "It would be difficult to live in the desert again, now that I've seen . . . so much."

He patted my head as if I were a little dog. "Nathan certainly doesn't deserve you. He will have to demonstrate his gratitude. As I will demonstrate mine."

As usual, he reached into the large jewelry case by his bed. This time, he handed me an enormous ruby pendant in a setting studded with diamonds.

"I will ask for you tomorrow night," he said.

Madame Cillenc waylaid me on my way back to my chamber and brought her face so close to mine that I could smell the sulphurous hatred in her breath.

"What did he give you tonight? Show me."

I drew back. "That's between him and me."

"Is it?" She tore at my clothing, extracted the ruby pendant, and dangled it before eyes that narrowed with rage.

Then she flung it at me and turned around, stomping back down the hall.

I was at first too troubled to sleep that night. Did I dare go to the Emperor and tell him that Cillenc hated me? It would be risky, but it might also be my only chance at safety.

He'd said he would call for me the next night. I resolved to speak to him then.

Having made a decision, I felt into a troubled sleep in which I was being smothered. I woke up in a panic breathing toxic fumes from the cloth that covered my face.

Then nothing.

When I regained consciousness, I was lying on a table in a dark room whose walls dripped with moisture. Rough garments covered me, and two unfamiliar guards stood on either side of me.

"Take me back to the harem," I said. "The Emperor will have you killed for abducting me."

They laughed. "The Emperor will be told that you ran away," one said. "He'll assume you fled in the direction of Etrenzia and will send his top scouts after you."

"Meanwhile," the other said, "you will be living in the spacious dungeon beneath the palace. So near, yet so far. During the day, you'll work with other slaves in the vegetable fields. The harvest is at its height. You'll be very busy. At night you'll return to communal quarters."

They unlocked the door and pushed me into a cavernous chamber dimly lit by guttering candles.

Pallets with people sleeping on them covered the floor. The guards pushed me onto an empty one. "Sleep well," one said, and the other laughed.

They left. I wrapped myself in the filthy blanket on the pallet, but I still shivered. Everything Menia had warned me about had come to pass. Would she try to rescue me? Who could trust a Tamaran? D'zara and Jadeia would be desperate to help, but what could they do? Nathan?

Despite my attempts to hold it back, a whimper escaped me. The woman in the next bed took my hand. I clutched it and finally fell asleep.
Chapter 13

After an uneasy night (nothing quite like sleeping on cold, wet stone lightly cushioned by a quarter-inch pallet of straw), I was awakened by the sharp notes of a horn.

People were suddenly scurrying more frantically than the rats and cockroaches had done all night.

My neighbor stood up, a tall, muscular Dolocairner as stony as the mountains of her home and as brown-skinned as a Tamaran. Her face was a series of sharp planes, her eyes a steely blue.

"Food," she said. "Follow my lead."

Ahead of us, people were already fighting, some grabbing bread from others. My neighbor elbowed her way to the head of line. Her reputation apparently preceded her, and people backed away. She grabbed two hunks of bread and handed me one.

It was stale, moldy, and filled with bugs. They weren't as tasty as Etrenzian species, but I polished off the bread immediately.

After that, guards herded us into the fields. My neighbor, who introduced herself as Chryse, said, "If you're quick and careful, you can eat some of the tomatoes we're picking, but not too many. You'll regret it."

All day we worked. I changed my mind about the half-hearted nature of Tamaran sunlight. These rays were far fiercer than the most blistering sunbeams in Etrenzia. I was grateful for the previous hours of tanning, but my skin was dry and cracked by the end of the first day.

In the middle of the day, the guards circulated more bread, this time commanding the slaves to stand in position. That way everyone got fed. I'd cautiously eaten a few tomatoes in the morning and ate a few more during the afternoon. I was hungry, but I also craved moisture in my mouth. They gave us no water.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked Chryse when we returned to the dungeon.

"My intuition. Someday you're going to save me."

It would have been easier to argue with a mountain.

That night, after we ate the ancient, rotten vegetables and grains that passed for dinner, screams arose from a hidden room. I glanced at Chryse.

"Punishment for those who worked slowly today, because the guards don't like them, or because orders came from above."

I had whispered my story to her in fragments over the course of the day. Now I gave her a frightened glance.

"Yes," she said, "Yes, this woman who hates you could make such an order, but if the Emperor is as fond of you as you claim, she'll hesitate."

"I made no claims," I said. "I find it impossible to know what the Emperor thinks. All I know is that his increased attention landed me here."

"Think more positively. Don't you Etrenzians believe in the power of mind and that thinking a thing can make it happen? Why not think that she only means to punish you? She could have you returned at any time."

"But as a runaway. That means death."

"Then pray for a miracle."

She was about to say more, but the screams increased until they ended in one final, blood-chilling cry.

Chryse acted as my protector during the days that followed. Even the guards were afraid of her.

Her guardianship made other slaves trust me, and I soon learned that Nathan's claims that the slaves were organizing were true.

When the overseers weren't looking (which was often), slaves whispered about their plans for a revolt. They'd buried scythes and hoes in the fields. Those who rode with the produce to the central warehouses and unloaded the boxes and bags spoke with slaves from other fields and parts of the outskirts of the cities. Overall, the breadth of the communications networks staggered me.

Now that my own freedom had been so sharply reduced, I recognized both how the harem had provided a false sense of security and the ease with which I'd become seduced by the elegant clothes, good food, and comfortable beds. Though I'd longed for freedom, physical comfort had blunted my passion.

Now, I lived a deeper reality of slavery, a suffering that I could never forget. The self-sacrificing passion I'd half-longed for now filled me. I knew that I could never flee and leave my fellow field slaves behind.

That realization sparked another. In this stark physical and mental environment, I could no longer conceal from myself how deeply I'd come to depend on my harem sisters: D'zara most of all, but also Jadeia, Ellura, and others. The shy, solitary being who got along best with snakes had disappeared. I had learned to have friends, and I longed for them with an ache that felt like a fatal disease, a pain that attacked even when I slept.

If I'd believed I would never see them again, I would have taken a scythe and performed major surgery on myself. Our lives were intertwined, and so were our futures. I couldn't leave them behind, either. If I ever got free from the dungeon, I would no longer stand on the sidelines.

I wondered how many of my fellow slaves had been torn from beloved families and friends. Yet they went on, day after day. They were patient but determined. They had great faith.

They were noble. Even now, as I look back over the great span of years, their nobility awes me.

I struggled to remain hopeful that I would be released, but this grew difficult as my physical condition deteriorated. After three weeks of a starvation diet, I lost whatever weight I'd gained in the harem. Chryse told me that we were supposed to get more food than we actually received. The overseers took much of it and sold it in the markets.

"But doesn't anyone ever investigate why so many slaves die?" I asked her.

"You'd think so, and there would be an investigation if artisans or other skilled workers were dying off. Field slaves are the most expendable, and, even though Tamaras has a long harvest season, it's coming to an end soon. Who wants to feed non-working slaves? Only the strongest survive to the next harvest. Don't worry, though, I'll make sure you stay alive."

In retrospect, I feel quite guilty complaining for even one moment about my period of intense incarceration, for it lasted only six weeks. That, however, was nearly enough to kill me. I was delirious from a fever when guards hauled me back to the harem.

Because of my illness, I wasn't allowed to go into the harem proper or to greet my friends. Instead, I was stowed in the infirmary, where I received only fluids for several days.

Once the fever broke, and I was deemed free of contagion, I started to worry about Madame Cillenc. In my weakened state, I could never defend myself against her. She could kill me, and no one would know.

My anxiety was peaking when the door opened. A glass bottle sat on the bedside table. I seized it to use as a weapon.

"Welcome back, Zena."

It was Menia. I slumped back against the pillow.

"Surprised to see me?" she asked. "I'm the new Mistress of the Harem."

I didn't dare believe it. "How?"

"You can thank your friends, and you can also thank them for your freedom."

She told me that Madame Cillenc had planned well. The "escape" of one of the girls gave her the perfect reason to put the other harem slaves in lockdown. No one was allowed to leave the building.

D'zara and Jadeia conferred as often as they could (everyone was being watched). Until they realized the windows were locked, they considered slipping a note out of one. As much as they could, they kept vigil by the windows facing the garden, hoping for the sight of Nathan. He never appeared, though.

"Do you think he was locked down, too?"

"I think he was in hiding. The Emperor was in a foul and dangerous mood and smoking a lot of opium. Jadeia and D'zara wanted to approach him, but I warned them that they might end up in the dungeon, too, which would serve no one. We all agreed that we would have to wait for the best opportunity to act.

"When his most experienced trackers failed to find you, he grew suspicious. Last week, he called for Jadeia and told her he would have no lies. She was afraid to air her suspicions because Cillenc was still in charge. She said that you never would have run away. How, she demanded, could a young Etrenzian woman alone, with no knowledge of the country and no money, expect to get safely home? She insisted that you were too intelligent, and the Emperor agreed.

"He pressed her for more information. She suggested in a subtle way that Madame Cillenc didn't seem to like you. This enraged the Emperor. Apparently he learned the full story because the last we saw of Cillenc, she was scurrying down the hallway, breathing heavily, with guards in pursuit. We hear she was executed."

I didn't favor violence, but I discovered that it didn't much bother me if someone else committed it, especially against so vicious an enemy. What I felt most was relief.

"And how did you get the position?"

"The Emperor called me into his chambers and recounted what had happened to you. He said he knew that harem slaves might from time to time act in an unruly manner, in which case they needed to be punished. However, in such instances, I was to report to him, and he would determine the manner of punishment. I agreed, and I got the job."

She called the nurse, who took my temperature and said it was back to normal. She recommended a bath, and a few minutes later I sank into hot, scented water. It took three changes of water before I felt clean.

An hour later, Menia led me back to the harem living quarters. "So," she whispered, "Be aware that from time to time I will need to act in a harsh manner. Don't take it seriously. Remember that the Emperor's spies are still everywhere."

I didn't answer her because D'zara and Jadeia were running down the hall towards me, arms open. Safe in their embrace, I allowed myself the first tears I'd shed since my capture.

We talked for a long time.

"We were so frightened that you'd never return," Jadeia said. Then she told me how she and D'zara had tried to attract Nathan's attention. "We still haven't seen him. Tomorrow, we'll know more. Menia is ending the lockdown."

### Chapter 14

My skin, after weeks of relentless exposure, had become very dark, but I welcomed the chance to simply lie on a lounge and relax. A few minutes after I arrived into the garden, Nathan appeared.

He didn't seem surprised to see me. "You must be glad the lockdown is over."

"You don't know what happened?" In a burst of words, I told him everything.

He was silent for a long time. "The Emperor told me nothing, but I'm not surprised. It probably humiliated him that one of his favorite slaves escaped. And you don't tell one slave that another made the attempt; it gives them ideas."

"But you knew that the women were locked up. Why didn't you speak to him about it? Why didn't you try to do anything to end it? Women could have been dying in there. As for myself, I nearly did."

He shrank a little at the force of my rage, but he rallied. "Zena, you have no idea how delicate my position is. How awful do you think it is to sit with people who conspired in the murder of my people, _your_ people, and pretend and lie? I do it for the cause. I must have the Emperor's trust so that I can betray him. Don't you behave the same way?"

That silenced me. I did, and I would continue to do so. Logic dictated doing what worked.

"I'm very glad you're back," he said. "I'm not ashamed to admit that you've given me ideas that I never would have thought of on my own. It's been very difficult these past few weeks without you."

It had been more than a few weeks, and my difficulties had been much greater.

"Tell me about your experiences—if you're ready to speak reasonably with me."

"Try spending several weeks working in the fields slowly starving to death, and see how far reason and logic take you."

He looked as if he would like to take my hand, but he apparently thought better of it. "I so regret that this happened to you. Regret isn't a strong enough word, but it will have to do."

How could I blame him for thinking like an Etrenzian? "I accept your apology."

I told him about the slaves' plans.

"It doesn't sound like they're ready for nonviolence," he said.

I had to admit that my dream had been a false one. And yet . . . "They won't win their freedom with picks and hoes."

He conceded that. "I've considered the possibility that the threat of violence will be enough. The Emperor would want to kill every last one of us, but the businessmen take a more practical viewpoint. They present other problems."

"What problems?"

"This is what I've heard from their household slaves. They're talking about reviving the idea of building a great city in the center of Tamaras."

I remembered how furious the Emperor had been when I'd asked about the earthquake and told Nathan about his reaction.

"That confirms it for me," he said. "The talk of going to the Empty Land is a diversion. The slaves, instead of winning their freedom, will find themselves marching into Tamaras' heartland, the home of ferocious dragons."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Sure enough to start the rumors. Be ready; the time is coming. Be prepared to do whatever it takes. If you question that, remember your comrades in the field. Would you do whatever it took to free them?"

He didn't have to lecture me on _that_ subject.

The next evening, Menia called me into her office. "Don't worry; I had all the listening holes plugged. The Emperor is asking for you, and I've said you need a few days to recover from your ordeal. I mentioned that you were excessively thin. I expect you to eat very well for the next week."

"I intend to," I said.

"I must warn you that his intentions seem quite amorous. Let me ask, and I'm going to be blunt. Did you ever have actual sex? By this, I mean penetration."

"I only had encounters with snakes, and they didn't involve penetration but encirclement."

"You may have to brace yourself."

My reaction surprised me. I'd feared nothing more, but after the dungeon experience, sex with the Emperor seemed a trifle. That, I realized, was how slaves could become accustomed to their servitude. Make it that much worse; then restore the previous conditions, and a slave might think she'd risen to the heights of freedom. It was a warning for me.

Menia handed me a small bag. "Herbs," she said. "Start taking them tonight. They prevent pregnancy, although they're certainly not guaranteed."

She gave me another bag. "These are herbs to mix with diluted vinegar in a douche. The combination should keep you safe."

"Menia, I'm glad you're here. May I ask if you have any plans to replace the guards?"

"I'm working on changing the guards in the harem, but I can't replace those in the other parts of the palace. When the time comes, if we can sneak enough warriors inside, we can overpower them."

That gave me an idea. "In terms of harem guards, I know a woman who would be perfect, a big, tough Dolocairner named Chryse. I worked with her in the fields. If you rescued her from the dungeon, she'd be the most loyal guard you ever saw."

"I like the sound of her."

"And the original harem guards?"

"They, sadly, will suffer the fate of Madame Cillenc. They well deserve it. Every one of them was in on the plot to abduct you."

I remembered their treatment of me and suffered no regret.

The changing (and killing) of the guards took place a few days later. That night Menia called me to her office. She pulled out a set of keys.

"I took these from the pocket of the head guard. I have a feeling I know which door they open. You're the only one that I'd trust to come with me to see."

She took a candle and handed me one. We lit them and walked down a long, narrow hallway lined with paintings that depicted pastoral scenes so sugary with sentiment that you'd think you could gain weight just by looking at them. Menia stopped in front of a heavy steel door.

"I believe this is the royal vault," she said and turned the first key, then the second. She needed my help to open the door.

We darted inside, first leaving the door ajar with a doorstop. We raised our candles and saw a room with jewelry boxes stacked on shelves. Menia took one down and opened it.

I gasped when I saw the enormous and beautifully faceted emerald pendant.

"That would buy a lot of weapons," Menia said. She looked around. "I don't see any gold, though. Let's explore further."

On the back wall was the door to a smaller vault. Menia tried the last key, which opened it. Inside sat many bags. We opened one, which was filled with gold coins.

Menia closed it quickly. "Great God of Fortune."

I was thinking how many people had starved to death while this obscene booty lay hidden behind a steel door. If the Emperor had been standing before me, I could have killed him.

On our way out, I took several of the jewelry boxes and told Menia about the binding spell.

"Come to my room tonight, and I'll include you in the spell."

"And who else?"

"D'zara and Jadeia."

"I agree. I'm going to have copies of these keys made and give them to you and D'zara."

I knew why she was doing that. "Menia, I'm more likely to get killed than you."

She shook the keys. "Maybe. I'm trying to get the news out as fast as possible that we've had a change of management at the harem, but Madame Cillenc, as you might guess, cast a shadow that extended well beyond these walls. I give us even odds for survival. I'll get the keys to you tomorrow."

"You're not telling Nathan?"

She rolled her eyes. "He's a born leader, and I trust him with the revolution, but he'd probably lose the keys."

At the end of the week, I returned to the Emperor's chambers. It was a much better experience to walk down the hallway with two of the new guards, one of whom was Chryse.

"Didn't I tell you you'd save me?" she said. "If he gets rough with you, call for me. I'll take care of him."

The Emperor was never rough with me, but it comforted me to know she'd be within calling distance.

Though his eyes were cloudy from opium, he was overjoyed to see me.

"My desert flower. Have you recovered from your unforgivable treatment?"

"I am somewhat restored, Emperor."

"Would it help you to see the terrible Cillenc's head? It's on a pike near one of the gates to the city."

With great effort, I prevented myself from gagging. My bloodthirsty impulses had not developed to that extent. "No, I am content, and I thank you."

"So gracious. I always said those Etrenzian girls had the best manners. Come sit near me."

He took my hand. "So slender and fragile. It will be some time before you're fully recovered. If I hadn't already ordered the death of Cillenc, I'd do it again. Little did I realize how fond of you I'd become."

He squeezed my hand. "Zena, I must make a confession. All of my children are idiots."

I didn't like where this might be going.

"Not one of them is worthy to follow me on the throne."

I liked it less.

"I chose their mothers purely on the basis of lust, never looking beyond that to see if any of them had brains in their heads. Had I taken the time to find out, I would have easily learned that the answer was no.

"And now I look at you, a young, unusual, and highly intelligent woman. You have many childbearing years ahead of you, and you are sturdy and strong. I know I'd promised you to young Nathan, but why should you be wasted on a puppet ruler in remote Etrenzia? What do you think of the idea of giving me an heir?"

"Surely it is too great an honor," I said at once.

"Your modesty becomes you."

I thought very carefully. "As you've observed, I've just recovered from a serious illness caused by near-starvation."

He waved his hand. "I'm not an impatient man, and I wish to have a healthy son. You will have the best medical care."

### Chapter 15

"I hope plans for the revolt are proceeding quickly," I said to Nathan. "The Emperor has reneged on his agreement to give me to you."

He turned his back on me and pretended to stare at a handsome chrysanthemum. When he looked at me again, his jaw was tight.

"I apologize. I try so hard to be a good logical Etrenzian. I fight my emotional excesses. And now I have the proof of their harm."

"What's that?"

Some questions should never be asked.

"I promise that I'll do my best to overcome the feeling, but I've fallen in love with you."

Not only was I speechless, but every word I wanted to speak crawled to the back of my throat and hid.

Finally, I said, "You didn't love me enough to miss me when I was gone for six weeks."

"I didn't realize how I felt until I heard you were back. I knew something was wrong when the lockdown was announced, and I did want to bring it up with the Emperor, but he was in a terrible mood the entire time you were gone. No one could speak to him. In fact, the business leaders came to me to ask if I could help _them_ reason with him. I think he loves you."

I didn't want to hear this. "I will help you discourage your emotional excesses."

"Thank you," he said, not sounding very thankful. "Ultimately, it doesn't matter. We were never going to Etrenzia as a married couple. We have a revolution to fight, and soon the Emperor will be assassinated. It will be the first act of the revolution."

I supposed it had to be. Without the Emperor, the business leaders would temporarily be rudderless. We could initiate the revolt and approach the leaders with the promise of being able to stop it if they met our conditions. But what were those conditions? I wondered aloud.

"I'm thinking about that," he said, and I heard the evasion in his voice, but I had no strength to coerce the truth from him.

The cat who had become a friend visited while I was telling D'zara about Nathan's evasiveness.

"She often slept in my bed while you were gone," D'zara said. "She also visited me often. I've become very fond of her. She comforts me."

The cat purred.

I had missed the cat. Nothing as soft as her fur had existed in the dungeon.

"What about Nathan? He says it was very difficult not being able to consult with me, but it seems that he used my absence to decide he has final say over the rebellion and its results."

"He needs someone to check him," D'zara said.

"That's not a role I enjoy."

"If you haven't learned by now that we've done and will do a lot of things we don't enjoy in order to win our freedom—"

"I know," I said.

The next day, Nathan, as if he'd been listening beneath D'zara's window, talked about his plans. "We can't force anyone, but I think we must go to the Empty Land."

This idea shocked me. I only wanted to go home. "Why?"

"Because it's empty. We can create a new world, one where all learn the principles of logic and reason. We'll have equality. We won't allow slavery. Everyone will share in the building of the new order."

"But what about the people who want to return to their lands?" Like me.

"I said we can't force anyone. I accept that a percentage will choose this route. It can actually benefit our plans for the new land to have friends in the other ones. Doesn't that promote your ultimate vision of a peaceful solution?"

I nodded slowly, but even as I tried to scorn the illogicality of the emotional despair I felt about never again seeing my beloved red cliffs and endless sands, that despair consumed me. "Nathan, I—"

"But we must make the primary goal a land of our own. Look at what we've built. Imagine a new country with you and me—"

"Nathan, I want to go back to Etrenzia."

He looked shocked. "But you can't."

Being told I couldn't do something tended to turn reason and logic into tumbleweeds tossed about by a fierce, dry wind. "I certainly can. And I will. I have family—"

"Are you sure?"

I hated him almost as much as I'd ever hated anyone. "I won't know unless I go there, will I? And it's still my country. I long for the deep desert and the cliffs—"

"And the goats and the poverty and the poisonous snakes. If you'd gone there as my wife, that would have been one thing, but do you think you'll be able to live there as a single woman?"

"Women are respected in Etrenzia."

"Face it, Zena, they'll expect you to play your flute and charm snakes. They won't let you run things. And how are you going to explain D'zara?"

"D'zara is my friend only."

"I know that; I know you're sexless."

I had made myself so, but I didn't like him saying that. It sounded like _hopeless._

"But I'm telling you how it may look. A city like K'zan might tolerate two women together, but your deep desert? The tribespeople would throw you into a deep ravine."

My hate still flamed, but my wall of resistance began to crumble ever so slightly. I had no intention of letting him know that.

"Nathan, I must be free to make my decision. A reluctant leader is worse than none at all."

"Zena—"

"Stop!"

And he did. "I apologize. Do you know that I've never apologized to anyone as much as I have to you?"

I wondered if he wanted his imaginary crown polished. "I'll give you my answer when I know it. In the meantime, I still want to know more about your plans. Why do you think the businesspeople will agree?"

I had to acknowledge his royal training. Once again, he bounced back, as full of confidence as ever. "From my discussions with them, I see that they're wearying of the economic burden of slavery and the expense of the military. They think that Dolocairn and Etrenzia are sufficiently beaten down that they can install puppet regimes."

"Of which you were supposed to be a leader."

"Yes, well, I'm offering them a substitute, a cousin who began as a soldier-slave and worked his way up the ranks."

"And where do his loyalties lie?"

Nathan's jaw tightened. "He'll serve them well. Zena, I can't do everything. We're in Tamaras. Our work is to free the slaves."

"And shuffle them off to a new country instead of returning to their own as rebels."

"Those who want to. Didn't you hear me say that?"

His longing for me to understand rose like morning desert heat, and in its shimmering patterns I read that he really did love me in his own limited, Etrenzian way. Unfortunately for him, I didn't care.

I returned to the main subject. "Tell me more about why this is such a good thing."

"The businessmen will buy it because it will mean the removal of a great source of unrest, both here and in Etrenzia and Dolocairn. It will also open the potential for new trade venues. We don't yet know what natural resources the lands have, but we have the greatest resources of all: freed slaves eager to make their way in the world and provide for themselves and their families."

"You'll be starting with nothing."

He smiled. "Part of the negotiations will involve reparations, nothing excessive, but I will ask for livestock, seeds for planting, and some building supplies, equipment, and a great number of tents. One more thing."

He looked nervous, which was never a good sign. "What?"

"I know that you need time to make a decision, and you need to know all I'm asking of you. I want you to go there as my wife."

" _Marriage?"_

"You would have married me at the Emperor's command."

"Because I would have had no choice. Nathan, I've made it clear. I respect you. I don't love you. Besides, I'm sexless, remember?"

He flinched slightly, but overall he took it well. "Respect would be enough. I would ask only for a partnership with you in the leadership of the country . . . and a certain amount of reproductive activity."

Only a few minutes ago he'd apologized to me for pushing the issue. Now he was talking about sex. I realized that I didn't understand men at all—all the more reason not to get involved with one.

"Thanks for making your terms clear," I said and rushed out of the garden.

D'zara nearly killed me.

"I thought we'd decided on this marriage business."

"I won't marry him. You and I will continue as the best of friends. Why do you look so surprised?"

"I thought you were more ambitious than that."

"And who encouraged my ambition?" I was feeling badly used.

"You're right. Forgive me. I have to think about this."

"And please remember that you're skipping over a giant step. I haven't even said yes to the idea of emigrating to the Empty Land. Neither have you."

"You're right. Let's be logical."

Even though it hurt to repeat them, I told her Nathan's arguments against my return to Etrenzia.

"I hate him, too," she said, "but he's right about our not being accepted in Etrenzia. People will assume the worst. We could manage in K'zan, but you don't want to live in a city."

"I wouldn't say any of this to Nathan, but, the more I compare the choices, I'd almost rather live in the Empty Land."

"And, you might as well be brutally honest. Doesn't the idea of running a country attract you even a little?"

"If you mean as opposed to returning to the life of a snake charmer, yes. But I don't want to marry Nathan to achieve power."

The cat, who was always with us now, tapped my leg, and I remembered the vision she'd given me of a city in the future and of my descendant living there. I told D'zara about it.

"Visions aren't definite," she said, "but I trust this cat more than I do many humans. Surely you'll get no descendants from me."

Her eyes regarded me steadily. Finally, she blinked, satisfied.

"When you were Goddess knew where, I vowed that you'd return to me and that we'd never be separated again. I haven't changed my mind about that. If a marriage of convenience in a strange, empty, and totally primitive land can assure that we'll remain together, I have to reconsider it. It's a disgusting idea, but it may be the best solution."

I announced my decision to Nathan in the coldest voice I could muster.

He threw down his hoe and walked away. I took that as agreement.

### Chapter 16

Unrest grew among the slaves, not enough to create retaliation from the overseers, but enough to make everyone very nervous. Even in the harem, we felt the tension seeping in from the outside world.

"It must be soon," Jadeia said, "or I'll explode."

One of my biggest regrets was that she had decided to return to Dolocairn and resume her training as a priestess.

"I love the idea of settling the Empty Land, but I have longed for the temple, and I believe it's where I'm needed. I'll miss both of you so much."

"And you know how I feel." I embraced her. "Maybe I can visit you, once the new land is settled."

"You would love my country."

I didn't say that the idea of snowy mountains had no appeal for me, but I was already missing my dear friend.

Although D'zara and I had finally agreed to go to the Empty Land, she continued to consider the implications of my marriage to Nathan.

"The situation is more complex than I'd thought at first," she said. "Why does he consider it so important to have an heir?"

I saw the problem at once. "Because he comes from the royal line of Etrenzia. You're right; I don't want to provide heirs for a dynasty. We need to plan a new kind of government for a new land."

That began a series of animated discussions. I knew only of the tribal councils, but she had some familiarity with city government. We'd both experienced the uneasy alliance between the Emperor and the business community. The new nation would need something different.

We came up with a workable model. It began with councils at the local level. Every village and town would have representatives to govern and to speak for them at a higher level.

At the national level, we envisioned a council made up equally of women and men and representing all the races. We discussed at length who should be on it.

"People who organized the revolt," D'zara said. "You and I."

"Menia," I said, "she's hard-headed and practical. Chryse, yes, especially her. She represents those who suffered the most, the ones who experienced the hardest labor. We need her to remind us where we come from."

D'zara was very impressed with Chryse. Jadeia was even more impressed, and I suspected that a romance was imminent. Because Chryse was also Dolocairner, they might return to their home, but I envisioned Chryse as a pioneer and hoped that she might persuade Jadeia to come with us to the new land.

"Of course, Nathan will want to be on it," D'zara said.

"No stopping him, I'm sure, and he deserves it, but he should be the only other Etrenzian. Let him propose three men from other races."

Once our plans were firm, I took them to Nathan. I'd never seen a man look quite as much like a deflated balloon. He was silent for so long that I felt compelled to speak. "You really thought you were going to be the supreme ruler?"

His eyes sparked black fire. "How dare you? Do you think I envisioned myself as being like the Emperor? I intended to be a fair and just _leader_ , not an oligarch or dictator. Of course, I'd thought of a council."

"In an advisory capacity," I said.

"Well . . . no one else has been trained to rule."

"And none of us have been trained to build a country from scratch, but we're all going to do it. Nathan, don't doom this process before it even begins."

He threw down his hoe (this was becoming a habit) and walked away. I waited a long time and had decided to leave the gardens when he returned, the skin on his face as tight as that on an ancient dweller of the deep desert.

"Tell me more about what you have in mind," he said.

Keeping a careful eye on his face, I went over the structure that D'zara and I had evolved.

"I see." His voice was as flat as his eyes. "Make it nine people. We'll need a tie-breaker sometimes."

"You mean you agree?" I didn't trust him.

"Do I have a choice? What you propose is entirely logical. I was clinging to the vestiges of my privilege as a prince. Painful as the realization is, I see that my past has no place in the future of the new country."

He was breathing and speaking, but his face and eyes were dead.

D'zara sighed. "Nathan has lost both his dreams of domination and the woman he claims to love—although I think his experience of love is like the shriveled crab apples that grow in our orchards."

Then she sobered, "You know, Zena, that we have hard times ahead?"

I did, but I had more strength for those hard times than I'd had prior to my life in the dungeon. I only had to think of those still there, laboring beneath the hot sun, slowly starving, to know that I wouldn't rest until all of them were free.

That big fire dragon was surely rolling in the desert dust, forepaws resting on a belly that heaved with raucous laughter.

Things developed very quickly after that. The rumor that the slaves would be sent to central Tamaras to repeat the folly of 700 years before spread quickly. Small revolts ignited and were brutally quelled. The business leaders called for Nathan, who told them that he thought the situation might be turning critical.

They asked if the slaves would accept the chance to buy their freedom.

"I didn't quite laugh in their faces," Nathan told me. "I simply asked how they were supposed to find the money. No, unless they think that both their fortunes and their lives are endangered, they'll never accept our demands. Once the Emperor is dead, I think they'll be much more agreeable."

I dreaded that moment, and it came a week later. Nathan approached me in the gardens and whispered, "The time has come for you to kill the Emperor."

"Me?" I backed away from him.

"Zena, you've known all along who had to do it."

It may seem that I should have, but I'd cleverly hidden this fact from myself, as one will hide any unpleasant piece of information.

I knew that countless people had died because of the Emperor. He was a gluttonous, heartless devourer of life, the epitome of all I hated about this city, this country. Because of him my own family was probably dead.

But I'd seen him weak and vulnerable. The reason and logic drumming in my head told me that killing the Emperor was necessary for our success, but some inconvenient voice argued that he was a huge child, that he had never learned to be anything else, and that killing him would be like killing an infant.

Reason and logic, as they always did, won, but I still didn't think I could do it.

"Why not the guards?"

"The guards will be involved. They may actually strike the fatal blow, but you need to provide the distraction."

"I need to betray him."

"Do you hear yourself? How many of our people has he betrayed, murdered, displaced? How many of our treasures has he stolen? Didn't you recently return from the dungeon? Did the Emperor concern himself with your welfare?"

I knew I didn't owe the Emperor anything. I knew I was having an unworthy emotional reaction. I still hoped the guards would do it.

Nathan laid out the plans. In Stage One, rebels would surround the Palace. At the signal that the Emperor was dead, they would seize it. Others would spread the word of the Emperor's death, which would surely arouse countless slaves to rebel.

"We still have to fight off the main body of the palace guards."

"I have a plan for that," he said. "I've discovered the location of the desert snakes and made friends with their keepers, who are very eager to return to Etrenzia. They'll bring more vipers and constrictors to the palace that day. You'll speak to these creatures and ask them to participate in the insurrection."

I wondered if he'd been smoking opium. "Oh, really?"

"Can't you tell them to attack only at your command?"

"I can try, but how will that help?"

"The sight of a dozen or more deadly snakes will convince the guards to abandon the palace. Once they're outside, the rebels can easily disarm and arrest them."

It was the wildest of Nathan's plans, but it had a certain beauty. "Perhaps if I could meet them ahead of time?"

His eyes lit up. "Yes, I'll have one of the keepers tell the Emperor that some snakes are ailing. He will request your assistance. Done."

I had the power to envision something happening. Nathan simply made other people do it for him.

That very day a keeper, accompanied by two palace guards, took me to the home of the reptiles. I felt instant pity for them, stuck in cement pits with shallow pools of water. No one had attempted to reproduce even the barest elements of their desert home. They, too, were slaves.

I lost no time in saying so, and the snakes, in their various prison cells, took notice. I spoke mentally to each of them, promising to do my best to see that they would be returned to the desert. Every one of them promised to cooperate. Most of them probably would.

That accomplished, I returned to the garden and reported to Nathan. We moved on to the next problem.

"The Palace is only a small part of the city," I said.

"Small in size, strategic in value. Furthermore, it contains untold wealth, not only in gold but in artifacts, jewelry, and much more. The business leaders will desperately want to get their hands on all that. We have to find it first."

I didn't mention that this wouldn't be a problem. Only I knew that Menia had already removed a substantial amount of gold and jewelry. It was hidden in my room, bound by a spell that only she, D'zara, Jadeia, or I could break.

We would tell Nathan about this once the fighting was over. He planned to ask the businessmen to fund the expedition. I preferred this solution because it would be impossible to unload a lot of gold and valuable jewelry without the obvious conclusion being drawn.

Realistically, the new country would need an influx of funds for at least several years. Once we were removed as a threat, we had no reason to expect more money from the businessmen. Menia and I planned to sell the valuables over the years.

Part Two consisted of rebellion, rioting, mayhem, and murder. "Don't look so shocked," Nathan said. "You knew it would come to that."

"But undirected?"

"I'm going to try to direct it, and I have lieutenants. We want to focus our attack on the army."

"Who have guns."

"There are many more of us, and the soldiers will be demoralized when they hear that we've killed the Emperor. They might even be glad. We'll ask them to join us. That greatly increases our chances of surviving this."

I favored that outcome, and I vowed that somehow I would try to use my hypnotic abilities, though I seriously doubted that they would work on thousands of people. For the first time, I wished I'd trained others.

I was becoming very frightened.

It would be cause for celebration if we got to Part Three, which involved negotiating for our freedom. The demands were prepared, and Nathan knew the weaknesses of the principal business leaders.

"Part of it will mean convincing them that I can only hold off the mobs for so long."

"But isn't that true?"

"To a degree. I will exaggerate that degree."

I was suddenly weary. "Don't tell me any more. You've got it all arranged. Just tell me when to plan the diversion."

Or the death.

Perhaps mine.

### Chapter 17

"Tonight," Nathan said two days later.

I couldn't eat any dinner. Menia approached me afterwards. "The Emperor wants you—and Jadeia."

"Both of us?"

"Those were his orders." She looked worried, and so was I.

It was possible he wanted to see a sex act between us. Other harem slaves had performed for him in the past. I would do that if necessary. It would be the least of the issues we'd face if all went well.

Jadeia was calm as we walked to the royal chambers, accompanied by a larger entourage of harem guards than usual. Among them was Chryse, whose cool blue eyes had turned molten.

If she was tense, I felt as if lightning was sizzling inside me. I also felt the hot metal of the dagger I'd concealed in the belt of my gown. As we turned corners, I heard hisses of greeting from the snakes that were hiding behind big vases and other objects.

The guards waited in front of the door while Jadeia and I went into his private rooms. His eyes lit up at the sight of us. "Lovely, charming." He indicated the chair where Jadeia was to sit and one for me.

"Play the flute, Zena."

I obeyed, and soon the usual undulating mass slithered to the center of the room, another venomous snake. I didn't remember having spoken to this one, and something was odd about its behavior, a jerky quality to its undulations. I closed my eyes for a moment to read it and realized that it was full of venom.

_No, desert brother_ , I begged it. _We're fighting for your freedom, too. No one here wishes you harm—except that big blob of humanity stretched out on the bed!_

The snake's head swiveled towards the Emperor, and Jadeia screamed. Chryse burst into the room, and the Emperor leapt to his feet and reached for a dagger. Ignoring him, she swung her blade to decapitate the snake.

The Emperor flung his dagger at Chryse's chest, where it landed and quivered in a spout of blood. Like a mountain crumbling, she fell to the ground.

Anguish razed all feelings of kindness and hesitation. "No!" I shouted and pulled out my dagger. I buried it in the Emperor's chest.

That part of the legend is true. I killed him.

So much blood, crimson like an Etrenzian dawn threatening evil weather, like a big red dragon. I stepped in it and could make no sense of my footprints. I looked down, dazed, at the bright pattern on my gown. I staggered backward, and a harem guard caught me before I fell.

In the hallway, the harem guards fought the Emperor's guards. The snakes circulated in this chaos, and several times I saw shrieking palace guards racing out of the palace. The snakes cleared the house.

In the Emperor's chamber, Jadeia wept and cradled Chryse's lifeless head. The sound of her grief and the sight of the murdered woman who'd helped keep me alive maddened me. I ran into the hallway, seized the sword of a fallen soldier, and dashed outside.

Nathan stood on the main steps, shouting, "The Emperor is dead!" A roar rose up in return. Cries filled the night like a million stars, and countless weapons reflected the light of a blood-red moon.

I dove into the battle, Chryse's death and my new title of assassin turned me into what I had never wanted to become: a murderer. The lifetime of control collapsed. I only wanted to kill as many people as I could—until I darted forward and slipped on a lake of blood. I landed on top of a dying soldier. His eyes, though dimming, were open.

"My mother," he said and died.

That woke me from my narcotic bloodlust.

_Make it stop. Oh, make it end. Make them surrender. I must make it happen._ A dragon uncoiled within me, not a red one, but a baby of softest pink. I gathered all my strength and closed my eyes. The image of the soldiers laying down their arms burned through me, and I dropped my own sword.

"Peace!" I shouted. "We are all common people! Let us unite. Join us to make a new world."

The moon shone brighter and turned to the color of a pink rose. I heard the clinking of metal as the soldiers fled, except for those—and they were many— who joined us.

We marched to the marketplace, where the bravest or stupidest of the soldiers had regrouped, surrounding those business leaders with the nerve to meet us.

"What are your terms?" their spokesman asked.

Nathan delivered his demand for the Empty Land and goods to supply it. They would have promised us anything at that point, but Nathan had a backup plan. He ordered our fighters to accompany each of them to their homes. The rebels surrounded every home. In the morning they would escort the businessmen to their private vaults and collect the money.

Troops would guard the businesspeople until the last of the emigrants had left the city. Then they would join us.

(Those who wish to read the full and thrilling details of the battle can refer to _Our Fight for Freedom_ , written by Nathan.)

I was not part of the negotiations. I returned to the harem, bathed, changing the bath water three times, as I had upon recovering from the fever, and looked for Jadeia. She lay in a corner of her room, covered with blood. D'zara and I bathed her, and that night we all slept together in one bed.

When the sun, looking pale and weary, appeared in the sky, Nathan returned, triumphant. "Their only condition is that we leave as quickly as possible. They will pay for all necessary supplies."

"Will they pay for funerals?" I demanded.

"Whose?"

"Chryse."

"She was a good fighter."

I lost all control. I fell to my knees and shook without tears. "She was better than any of us."

Chryse had saved my life. To avenge her death justified my murder of the Emperor. Didn't it?

I faltered, and the worst possible memories came sliding in, uninvited. He had been kind to me. He had given me gifts. He had gotten me out of the dungeon—but he had also caused the dungeon to be created. He was kind to a slave, but he created the harem. He was a terrible man. He was an ordinary man. He was evil. He was no more evil than the woman who had killed him.

I had experienced the full horror of surrendering to one's emotions, and I vowed that I would never succumb to them again. I kept this vow for a long time, and it formed a cornerstone of the doctrine that would govern the new country.

All the slaves were free now, and many organized into guilds whose leaders negotiated with their former owners for wages. Although I was involved in none of this, I could see that Tamaras would be in a state of chaos for some time.

I put my attention on the emigration. At a series of public meetings, people had the opportunity to choose settlement in the new land. The next step involved choosing who should go first.

"We have to be practical," Nathan said. "We want the young, the fit, and especially the skilled. We must put up housing and plant crops as quickly as possible. I think the first wave of settlers, including you and me—"

"And D'zara."

"And D'zara, should leave as quickly as possible. That makes it real. I'll leave behind some of my most trusted men to organize additional groups and to make sure that the business leaders keep their promise to provide for those waiting to emigrate."

"How many do you think we'll have?"

"In the first wave, one to two thousand, but over the months and years more will come. Some will go home and find their families dead or their land taken by Tamaras. The businessmen may fight for the conquered countries, although I think the army will revolt. We made some inroads there."

"And those people will emigrate." I might have been one of them. One of the harem slaves planned to return to Etrenzia. I'd begged her to try to find out about my family.

"And some of the slaves will need to build up their strength," Nathan continued. "Only those most fit can go over the mountains. The very old and the children and anyone not physically strong will have to take the Amorla Gap. It's the long way around, but mostly level. Any animal drivers will need that route as well. Some people will travel by sea. Frankly, the mountaineering part will be for the purpose of legend."

"'The fearless young rebels allowed nothing to stand in their way'?"

"Exactly. Also, I'd like to view the new land from a mountaintop."

"That's very romantic."

"I have that failing. I'm sorry you won't let me indulge it."

I went back to my room, soon to be no longer mine. I'd be living in a tent in the Empty Land, and at this moment, my heart felt equally empty.

The cat who'd been my companion came in and jumped on the bed. She curled up on my chest and stared at me. Clearly, she had something important to tell me.

I looked back at her, and in her eyes, I saw cats, dozens of them. Some peeked out of saddlebags. Others rode in wagons.

I shook my head. Cats weren't the kinds of animals we needed in the new land.

She growled and raised a paw, her claws unsheathed. This forced me to pay closer attention.

The cat streamed an image that was vague in detail but strong in emotion. She told me that a time would come when the descendants of the emigrant cats would save the land. Then she showed me again the picture of the young woman who resembled me with a kitten, one whom I had to admit had a very intelligent appearance.

"Cats?" Nathan demanded.

"Don't argue with me."

Four weeks after the rebellion, we left Tamaras. We'd rounded up as many mules as we could, knowing they would be more reliable for the mountain trails. Nathan, D'zara, and I rode at the front of our group.

I was glad to leave Tamtown behind. Even the air of the suburbs refreshed me more than the staleness of blood and rotting bodies.

We were fortunate that the weather was good. Most of us slept in the open at night, too tired to bother with putting up tents. By the third day, we could see the mountains close up.

"We'll try to get up and down them in one day," Nathan said. "We don't want to get caught in a freak storm."

I will pass over the perils of those mountain trails. It's enough to say that I never went on a mountaineering trip again. I was relieved when we reached the top, even though the descent looked even more dangerous than the ascent.

We paused for a long time at the peak of the mountain. Behind us spread the rich fields of Tamaras. In the distance, we could see the spires of Tamtown.

Ahead of us was a land as virginal as I had remained. We stood about thirty miles north of the sea, on which we saw a few vessels, packed with fellow rebels.

The sea bordered a swamp: reeds swaying in the breeze, trees heavy with moss, and vast rivers of sea grass. Specks that must have been animals moved about, and eagles and hawks soared in the cloudless sky above.

It seemed to me a lonely place. Forlorn.

Yes.

I started, so clear had the voice been. It reminded me of another voice. I closed my eyes and saw that arrogant fire dragon predicting my future. This voice was also reptilian, specifically like a dragon, but it had a softer tone, like the hiss of sea foam against the shore.

You're right. I'm a water dragon.

"Look over there, perfect for crops," Nathan, the ex-gardener said, and my attention shifted from the swamp.

That was my only communication with the dragon of the swamp, and I wasn't sorry. I looked at the empty fields and imagined stalks of wheat and other grains. _Feed my people_ , I whispered to the fallow fields.

Roughly thirty miles from the swamp stood a flat area of land next to a lake into which several rivers flowed. This area was surrounded by woodlands that extended almost to the swamp, except for large stretches of meadowland.

"We'll build our capital there," I said, pointing.

Nathan followed my direction, and his eyes shone. "It's perfect. And what should we call this new land?"

I looked again at the area where the capital would be. It was like an oasis. That was the perfect name for the new country. Like thirsty travelers who long for the soothing waters, our rebels longed for peace, equality, and prosperity.

"Oasis," I said.

Then we began the downward climb, about which the less said the better.

### Chapter 18

Others (especially Nathan) have written the history of Oasis in great and sometimes exhausting detail. It remains for me only to note the highlights (and lowlights) of my own life.

Nathan and I had sex, which was more tolerable than I'd expected, certainly far superior to any experience I might have had with the Emperor. I came to enjoy it to the same degree that I enjoyed a good meal. I got pregnant almost immediately, and after we had a son and three daughters, our sexual episodes occurred less frequently.

I knew he had mistresses, and we agreed that any offspring from these relationships should not be considered eligible for leadership in Oasis. If any were born, no one surfaced to challenge my son's right to become the next Guardian after Nathan died.

The great democracy experiment didn't achieve much success. I had over-estimated both the ability and the desire of the people to govern themselves.

The Nathan mystique continued to thrive. Do I suspect Nathan of encouraging it? I do indeed, but it would have flourished in any event. He _was_ the face of the revolution.

The emigrants looked to him to guide them through the difficulties of creating a new country, and in that regard he didn't fail them. The Council ended up being an advisory board, and although some of the advice was quite pointed, Nathan had the final word.

I was initially discouraged by this (D'zara was furious), but when I thought logically about it, I understood that slavery was also a mentality. Our people were slowly re-acquainting themselves with the idea of freedom. Their children would grow up on stories of slavery. Only when we had some history of our own, and when the memories of being enslaved faded would they be ready to act autonomously.

I had no idea when this would happen, but I didn't think it would be in my lifetime. Meanwhile, Nathan continued to rely on D'zara and me for advice and sometimes even to tell him what to do, and we gladly fulfilled our responsibilities.

Our son, Conan, lacked the leadership ability that his parents shared. After Nathan died, he was delighted to let me rule behind the scenes, and I was delighted to do it. He married an Etrenzian woman from my family line (not from my immediate family, all of whom perished), and they had several intelligent children. I've trained the oldest for leadership. He will do very well, and I am content. My daughters, who also married Etrenzians from my line, have also had highly intelligent children.

When I became a grandmother, an unexpected vein of tenderness opened within me. I loved these children more than I had believed possible, and my greatest pleasure was to spend time with them.

D'zara loved them, too. She, like Nathan, had affairs. Because she'd kept her promise never to raise the subject of sex with me again, she said nothing of her lovers. I knew only that they were both women and men.

After Nathan's sudden death at the age of fifty, I realized how much he'd been part of my life and that I had loved him more than I'd admitted to myself. Once my feeling of loss dissipated, the desire for D'zara which I'd carefully kept suppressed for many years, filled my waking—and many of my sleeping—moments. I couldn't think about anything else.

When she asked me why I was so distracted all the time, I took a very deep breath and told her. She turned away from me, and a distressingly long period of silence ensued. When she faced me again, she was weeping.

I don't intend to go into detail about what is after all my business except to say that the last thirty years of my life have been filled with great joy.

And one more thing. In my Last Testament, I make no reference to our love as an inspiration for my desire for deeper answers than reason and logic provided. Here I am being more honest. Those who love know that it's is a mystery that has its roots in the very fabric of the universe. Though I didn't know it, I was seeking the source of universal love.

And, though I understand it no more than I did at the beginning of my search, I feel it. Finally, for this old Etrenzian woman, that's far more important.

As I said in the prelude to this memoir, I take full responsibility for making the dominance of mind part of the national ethic. I had experienced the disastrous consequences of uncontrolled emotions. The face of the dying Emperor still haunted me, as did that of the young soldier who died calling for his mother.

I could only atone for my murderous surrender of control by making sure that all Oasans learned the danger of emotional excess from infancy. It became part of every school curriculum and workplace culture.

This meant that Etrenzians, whose heritage included centuries of self-discipline, tended to rise to leadership more quickly and frequently than either Dolocairners or Tamarans. Remembering the wisdom of Jadeia, the courage of Chryse, and Menia's leadership abilities, I regretted this, but I reasoned that capable people would always be recognized.

I still believe this, and at this point in the country's history, I would change nothing. Oasis' crime rate is significantly lower than that in the other three countries. We have few jails. We are a peaceful people. As a land that is still growing and developing its laws and institutions, we require mental stability.

It comes at a cost. We have not even the beginning of a literary or artistic culture. We are dull conversationalists. We don't laugh much. I believe that we lack originality and creativity.

In time the price we pay for emotional repression will be too high. I trust that when this happens, my Last Testament will be found. I also hope that the people learn its lessons.

I wish for my descendants and for all Oasans the experience of discovery that I've undergone—but not for a long time, certainly not before the Last Testament and possibly not until the people have matured enough to incorporate the Testament into their daily lives.

Then they'll be ready to meet the true Zena. They may view me kindly or not. I will no longer care.

So bless you, future citizen of Oasis who discovers this. May your life be filled with love, and may you do your best to serve the people.

Zena Vash'ti Turley

### Thank You

Thanks so much for reading _The Snake Charmer's Daughter,_ the prequel to the series: _A Dragon's Guide to Destiny. The Dragon Who Didn't Fly_ is the first in the series _._ _Dance with Clouds_ is Book Two. _House of the Moon_ is Book Three. The fourth book is _Book of Sorrows_. The fifth, as yet untitled, book will be published in 2017.

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_The Snake Charmer's Daughter_ is the prequel to a five-volume series, _A Dragon's Guide to Destiny._ Beginning on the next page, you'll find Chapter 1 of _The Dragon Who Didn't Fly._

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### Chapter 1

The whisper of raindrops awoke Druid. He groaned and covered his ears with his paws. This silenced the dismal dripping, but nothing could prevent him from hearing the call of duty, even when its fulfillment yielded fewer rewards than scratching his scales.

Druid heaved his bulk into a standing position and lumbered from his cave at the bottom of the cliffs that bordered the swamp. He raised his head to the misty sky and recited the ancient water dragon ritual.

"The rains are here. The earth springs alive again. All creatures rejoice, Mother, at the gift of Your tears."

The words settled like dust in Druid's mouth. During the five hundred years humans had occupied the land beyond the swamp, he'd had trouble believing in either the litany or the Mother it honored.

The delicate pattern of life that made the earth whole had begun to deteriorate with their arrival. Both floods and drought had become more common. Refuse choked the rivers, and the grass in the meadows close to human settlements grew pale and sparse. Sometimes Druid wondered if these strange animals survived by sucking the life out of the land.

Today the deterioration seemed to have accelerated, like rot biting deeper into the heart of a tree. Agitation stirred the sluggish waters of Druid's habitual depression. Though humans were probably responsible for this latest disruption, he scanned the swamp to search for a local disturbance: one of the plagues that occasionally swept through the rodent communities or the far more common misbehavior of half-grown wolves.

Nothing seemed changed. As usual, Spanish moss cloaked brooding cypress trees, forming curtains that stretched from tree to tree and muted the sunlight. The ponds that sprouted blackened tree stumps like decayed teeth remained as stagnant as ever.

The dragon's awareness traveled to other parts of the swamp: the golden seas of saw grass and the dark splendor of the islands that dotted them, the twisted scarlet roots of mangroves belting the area between swamp and sea. He sensed no discord among the creatures who shared this world with him. In a nearby tree, the attention of a hungry hawk was drawn to baby mice who fretted in their mother's absence. Druid heard a cougar's distant growl and the delicate hoof steps of deer. Insects, stirred to life by the rain, buzzed in their billions.

Beyond the boundaries of the swamp lay the human world he'd never seen. Druid called on the pictures that birds had given him of the belching creatures used to stab the earth for growing plants, and the caves of stones and wood filled with bloodless beings that hummed and flashed. Still further to the east stood a place of deadness named City, where life tried to survive with little sun or earth.

In the center of this dead place stood tall caves where humans made plans that threatened other animals. Druid focused his attention there, and the discord burned like a tree struck by lightning. His nostrils filled with the acrid odor of despair.

From the first moment he'd seen them, carrying sticks that spewed out fire no more deadly than the hatred they breathed, he'd known them as enemies. His father's stone-shattering roar had transformed their rage into terror. Physically unharmed, they'd dashed from the swamp, their shriveled hearts swollen with the stuff of nightmares. Only fools and madmen had ever approached the swamp during the following centuries, and the roar Druid had learned from his father had always sent them scurrying back to the safety of their foul cities.

_Now the opposite has happened. Their fear feeds their hatred._ _They approach, the poison of their emotions staining the forest floor. I may finally discover whether my parents told the truth when they said human weapons couldn't penetrate my scales. Why should I believe them? They lied about everything else._

"Druid! The humans come!"

The screech thrust Druid out of his trance. Tomo, leader of the cougars, bounded down the path to the cave. "They're near the place in the forest where fire took many trees last summer."

Alarm ruffled Druid's scales. "They haven't come that close in a hundred years. Why now?"

"We can talk about why later," Tomo growled. "You've got to drive them out quickly."

Druid, not anxious for an aerobic trot, considered the possibility of a psychic confrontation. As a young water dragon, he'd learned how to transmit an essence of terror so powerful it could make humans believe he stood before them. Now he was so out of practice that he'd probably give himself a sinus headache if he tried, and he'd be laid up for days. Worse, if it didn't work, animals would die. He already heard frightened shrieks that turned his water to steam.

He would have to make a live appearance, but that required exertion. His legs, longer than the length of Tomo's body, could cover a lot of ground, but they had to carry a body weighted down from a long, idle winter of eating kelp.

He wheezed as he followed Tomo back along the trail.

The cougar glanced at him. "Why don't you fly there? It would be faster."

"A faster way to die. Imagine the target I'd make."

"True, but, now that I think about it, I've never seen you fly."

Druid didn't want even his best friend to know why he didn't fly. "Let's not discuss my exercise habits. Did you see the humans?"

"No, a young squirrel, Tolti, brought me the news." The cougar stopped so quickly that the dragon nearly tumbled over him. "She heard them speaking. They said they were going to take water from the swamp."

Druid quivered with an amplified sense of wrongness.

"Dragon, you know this squirrel. Does she have a brain in her tiny head?"

"None of them are empty-headed. Their thoughts travel as quickly as they race up and down trees. Tolti was one of my better students, and she always listened carefully. We can believe her. Did the humans say how they intend to do this?"

"They said only that it would be done and that the swamp would be theirs."

"It will not." Rage gave Druid speed, and they soon reached the place where the swamp met the woodlands. Other cougars, alligators and a few eagles waited for them. "I see them," an eagle shrieked. "Their fuzzy heads bob up and down in the distance."

Druid's eyes were not nearly so keen, but he smelled the rank human odor. Fury ennobled him. He rose to his full height, his long neck curving gracefully, his mane streaming in the breeze. Steam poured from his nostrils. He roared, a sound that began at the tip of his long tail, rushed up through his body, and exploded from his mouth in shattering thunder. The humans screamed, and, in a wake of cracking branches, dashed towards the fields.

For long moments the animals waited silently. When the sound of clumsy footsteps disappeared, they shouted, "Hail, Druid! Hail our guardian and protector!"

Druid bowed his head. "It's my job. Now I need to go home and lie down."

"I'll escort you," Tomo said. "Alone," he growled at the squirrels and chipmunks who tried to follow Druid in a ragged victory parade.

Tomo waited until they were out of earshot and then asked, "What would you have done if they'd entered the swamp?"

Druid hissed, spraying the cougar with steam. "Do you speak so to the Keeper? Do you believe I hold my vows lightly? The day humans set foot in the swamp with murder in their hearts and the means of it in their hands will be the last for all of them and their kind."

Tomo's eyes narrowed to amber slits. "The legends are true? You'll summon the fire dragons to destroy the human caves and burn their fields?"

Druid shook his head. "I don't even know where they live. As usual, this lonely dragon will have to take matters into his own paws, but I'd rather humans killed me than know that my cowardice caused one animal to die. Face it, if it comes to that, we can be certain the Mother has abandoned us."

"I already have my suspicions on that subject." Tomo growled. "Admit it, so do you. We're on our own."

"I keep that thought to myself, and I urge you to do the same. Despair can destroy the World more quickly than even the humans."

"Especially the despair of a dragon," Tomo said. "It's heavier than the spring rains."

"I try not to let it show, and when I can teach the young only cynicism, I'll stop. If I have any hope, it's that one of them, a new being, undiscouraged by a world damp with tears of despair, can lead us back to wholeness."

"I'll try to share your hope. In the meantime, what do we do about our knowledge of the humans' plans? I told Tolti to keep her little nutcracker shut, but she may have told half the swamp already. And we don't know who else may have heard the humans."

"Hope it wasn't Gris," Druid said. "That hawk has no discretion. Unless we notice rumors getting out of control, I'd rather wait until we've observed the rain rituals. Let our friends celebrate this expulsion of the humans. It will strengthen them for what may be coming."

"I yield to your wisdom," Tomo said. "And I'll leave you now to contemplate the events of the day."

"Thank you," said Druid, who was tired of contemplation.

_So it has come,_ _long after I'd given up hope that the romantic myths spun by that pair of careless drifters called my parents would ever come to pass. Now that I've accepted my peaceful, if boring and more than a little disappointing, life, the disruption arrives that makes my heart quicken with the possibility that they might have told the truth, that I'll yet discover myself as a dragon of destiny._

And probably fail.

On the evening of the rain celebration Druid left his cave to wash himself in the sea. The water spread silken folds over his hide. When he finished washing, he dove to the bottom in search of some particularly succulent varieties of kelp, but after eating a few strands, he lost his appetite, for the waving seaweed reminded him of his mother's green mane, of abandonment and eons of loneliness. He shook himself dry and headed for the large island in the center of the swamp, trying to think cheerful thoughts about the glories of spring.

During winter, the dry time, life for most of the animals was a continual search for water and food. Spring and the coming of rain gave rise to one of the most joyful celebrations in the swamp. The newest babies were introduced to the community and helped to find their places in the pattern. It was a time when all animals, in tribute to the end of deprivation, were pledged to disregard traditional predatory relationships.

Meadowlarks flew side by side with eagles, and cougars stretched out in their tawny glory to watch fawns pick their trembling way through the meadow. The animals praised the rain and She who showered abundance on them.

As the sky grew dark and the rains abated, the birds and animals gathered together in a large circle. "Let's have a story," called out a laughing gull.

Tolti, the squirrel, who had found a place on Druid's shoulder, said, "A dragon story."

"Yes, tell us a story, Wise One," a wolf howled.

A story would distract Druid from the concerns that had marred his enjoyment of the celebration. "What story shall I tell?" he asked the assembled animals.

"Tell us of how the dragons and humans became enemies."

"That's a very sad story, and old, older than even me."

Tomo's golden eyes raked him. "Tell it."

Druid sighed. The cougar was right. The celebration was almost over. Tomorrow the animals would have to face possibilities more grim than winter.

"When humans first appeared among us, they didn't know how to do anything," he began. "It looked as if they were going to be a small drop in the pond of history when the animals, in the spirit of She Who Teaches Us All, decided to instruct them."

"The birds and mice and beavers taught them how to build homes."

"The big cats taught them how to hunt," said a cougar.

"No interruptions," someone muttered. "Show respect."

"The fire dragons looked down from the sky at the poor, shivering human beings and decided to give them their special gift of warmth and heat. At first, the humans were grateful to the animals, but as they learned these skills, they wanted to forget who had taught them. They wanted to believe themselves above the animals who, out of kindness, had helped them to survive and flourish. They wanted to think they had done it all by themselves."

A young cougar spoke out again. "That's why they hate cats, for our wisdom. We remind humans that there are other intelligent animals around. For that knowledge they try to imprison us. Even now, our small cousins languish, maltreated and dishonored."

"Try being a turtle in a cage," a snapper muttered.

"You're both right," Druid said. "Humans do try to imprison or kill the animals they fear. They attempted to do so with dragons. My fire cousins had taught them how to start fires with wood and stones that burned, but humans found that to be hard work. Some human, may he be cursed, got the idea that it would be easier to trap dragons in order to have a ready source of fire."

Tolti pulled his ear. "May I ask a question?"

"Ask, little one."

"How did the dragons allow themselves to be trapped?"

"They thought it was a game. For a while they were patient, waiting to see how it was played. When they realized that the rules favored the humans, they decided to break them. They melted the prison bars with their fiery breath and flew away.

"Some humans saw the lovely dragons flying in the air and shot at them with fire sticks. Though the weapons couldn't penetrate the dragons' thick scales, this act of hatred ensured that from that time on, dragons and humans would be enemies."

The animals fell silent—all but the frogs and crickets, who sang a melancholy song about the death of trust. As the final chirp died away, Tolti cried, "Mother, protect us from the humans!"

All the animals echoed her words, and the trees whispered supplications to their creator. Tomo slunk gracefully into the center of the circle.

"Druid called his story an old one, but it is no older than a few days ago, when humans nearly breached the sanctity of our home. This is not the worst of it. Tolti, tell the others your story."

Druid would have preferred that the cougar consult with him about the best way to spill the bad news, but that was the problem with being a Keeper. He could protect, negotiate, and mediate, but with a crowd of independent animals, he could never dictate.

"Go ahead, Tolti," he said.

The squirrel clutched Druid's mane as she spoke what she'd heard of the human's plans to take the swamp. "They said they would drain the swamp and knock down the trees and build houses. What are houses?"

"Their nests, I think," Druid said.

"But, Druid, what happens to us?"

Snakes began to hiss, and alligators slapped the water with their tails.

Every animal looked at the dragon. Words never came quickly to him, and he could find no comforting ones now. "We must pray, as Tolti did a short while ago. We must ask Her to protect us and to tell us what we must do to protect ourselves."

His words were as dry of hope as the swamp had recently been of water. The pattern was being rent, and he, alleged dragon of destiny, stood helpless before its unraveling.

He rose with a wet sigh. "I must go, my friends. It has been a long day."

Tolti remained on his shoulder. "Keeper, your sorrow shudders through me and makes me want to weep."

"Water dragons have that effect. One of our tasks is to arouse the deep and hidden emotions in all living things that they may be brought to the light."

"You arouse love in mine, dear Druid. I don't like to think of you being alone tonight. Let me be with you."

Tears stung Druid's eyes. "You're kind, small one."

"Oh, no," Tolti said as she snuggled into the hollow of his neck. "It's my honor."

Tolti chattered as incessantly as other squirrels. "You can't imagine how shocked I was to hear those humans speaking. Wasn't it good of me to tell Tomo immediately? I was quite frightened to approach him, even though my tail was raised in truce. He ate my cousin only last week. It was all properly done. Her spirit was ready for departure, and the dance was correctly performed. Still, the sight of his teeth wasn't a happy one, I can tell you that. It isn't just the humans, is it?"

Druid, who had drifted beyond the squirrel's chatter to his own gloomy thoughts, jerked his head up. "What?"

"It's not just the humans, not even just the swamp. Remember how you taught us to hear and feel the earth's rhythm? It's disturbed now."

Druid lifted the squirrel from his shoulder and held her in his paws so that she faced him. "Tell me what's wrong with the rhythm."

The squirrel's nose quivered. "I'm not sure. It doesn't seem to be coming from the ground. It's a feeling from far away, the trembling of wounded animals, but none I've ever known, cries that shiver through me. It's the sound of hearts that have forgotten how to feel."

_A young squirrel senses more than I have._ Druid clasped Tolti to his heart.

The sky was clear now, and the new moon trailed stars across the sky. Reeds quivered with ghostly beauty, and moonbeams painted the charred tree stumps. Slender pine needles glistened as if they'd been dipped in the silver cauldron of the night.

Tonight the swamp was cloaked in grandeur, and its beauty was bitterness in the dragon's heart as he listened to the reeds and saw grass singing in the faint breeze and heard the distant shriek of a small animal who had surrendered its life.

_So the leaves die in autumn_ , he thought. _So they release their hold on the trees who have nurtured them, and fall to the earth to return the gift of life to their hosts. So the seed is food for a rabbit, the rabbit food for the cougar, the cougar food for the seed. It is the way of things that nothing shall be lost or wasted, that we are all important and necessary. Thus the pattern is woven and re-woven._

"How beautiful the World is tonight," Tolti said softly. "Surely the Mother won't permit it to be destroyed."

_Do You listen?_ Druid asked the night. _Will you answer this small one's devotion? Perhaps You are more present than I imagine. Perhaps You hide behind the moon, to mock the fumbling creatures who attempt to survive in this world of Your creation, Your laughter as faint as the fading whisper of dragons' wings._
Books by C. M. Barrett

Fantasy Fiction

A Dragon's Guide to Destiny Series

_The Snake Charmer's Daughter:_ A Prequel

_The Dragon Who Didn't Fly:_ Book 1 (The Water Dragon Quest)

_Dance with Clouds:_ Book 2 (The Air Dragon Quest)

_House of the Moon:_ Book 3 (The Fire Dragon Quest)

_Book of Sorrows:_ Book 4 (The Earth Dragon Quest)

_Rainbow Dragon:_ Book 5 (The Rainbow Dragon Quest)

Dystopia in Drag Series

_Dawn of Dystopia:_ Prequel

_Prisoners of Dystopia:_ Book 1

Literary Fiction

Gone to Flowers

Cats in Command (short stories)

Nonfiction

Animals Have Feelings, Too:

Bach Flower Remedies for Cats and Dogs

Bach Flower Remedies: A User-friendly Guide

Renew Your Life the Natural Way:

Balance Your Chakras with Crystals and Essences

