“I…” Tress took a deep breath, looking up at the dragon. “I think I’d make a bad servant, great dragon. Because I really, really don’t want to be one.”
“And I do?” Crow said. “I—”
The dragon hushed her with a click of his claw. He narrowed iridescent eyes at Tress. “Tell me, why is it you do not wish to serve me? Contrary to what you might have been told, my servants are treated well. You shall know no disease while you are here. You shall have engaging work, regular meals, and books in your off hours to read at your leisure.”
“But dragon, sir,” Tress said, “there is someone I must rescue. The man I love is held captive. I need to free him.”
“I don’t care for the hearts of mortals,” the dragon said. “Except for how they taste. Do you have any other argument for why I shouldn’t take you right now and put you to work in the kitchens?”
“Because…because…” The Tress she had been might have accepted her fate. The Tress she had been would have wanted to please him. That Tress was dead.
She was now the Tress she had become.
“Because I won’t stay,” Tress said. “No matter what you do. I will not give up what I want for you, dragon.”
“No one has ever escaped my domain.”
“Then I will be the first,” Tress said, growing louder as she continued. “Because I can promise you this, great dragon. You will never be able to trust me alone. I will dedicate everything I have—every thought, every moment, every waking breath—to escaping you! I will not calm down. I will not grow complacent! I will not lose my resolve!
“I will find a way out. Even if I have to collapse your entire cave! Even if I have to walk through the spores! Even if it takes fifty years, I will never relent. And you, dragon, will eventually have to kill me to stop me. Because I will get to the Midnight Sea, and I will find the Sorceress, and I will save the man I love!”
Her voice echoed in the cavernous room. The dragon let it fade, watching her with ancient eyes.
“The Sorceress?” Xisis said. “You are going to try to confront the Sorceress?”
Tress nodded.
“Then perhaps taking you captive now would be a mercy.”
“Exactly!” Crow said. “Just as I’ve been—”
“Oh, hush.” The dragon waved a clawed hand in her direction. The cloth enveloping the nearest pillar suddenly wiggled as if alive. It whipped forward, wrapping around Crow’s face and gagging her.
Xisis studied Tress, watching her with those incomprehensible swirling eyes. “I believe you,” he finally said. “You are too driven to make a useful servant.”
“Thank you,” Tress said.
Crow, in turn, began to claw at the gag, her eyes wide. The strange black cloth wrapped her further, then pulled her back tight against the pillar.
“She really is awful, isn’t she?” the dragon said.
“I’m afraid so, sir,” Tress said.
“Well, I suppose I do need someone to scrub floors, now that I’ve promoted Lili.” The dragon stretched, rising up and arching his back like a cat—one that was over twenty feet tall and covered in scales. “I make it a point not to interfere too much in the workings of the society above. If you really have made the discoveries she mentioned, then by taking you, I’d be interrupting the planet’s technological progress. I’ll pick that as my excuse for letting you go.”
“Excuse, sir?” Tress asked.
“Yes, excuse,” he said, making it clear he would explain no further. “What is the payment you request?”
“…Payment?” Tress looked at Crow. “Oh! I hadn’t gotten that far, sir. And…I don’t know that I can take payment for selling a person…”
“If she really is a spore eater,” Xisis said, “then you’ve saved her life. I can heal the disease, yes, but I wouldn’t have mentioned to her that the healing only lasts a year or two at most. The infestation will return, so long as she is away from me. Her only path toward long-term survival is to remain here.”
Tress considered that, and thought that if he was lying—and the cure was permanent—this would be an excellent way to make certain Crow remained with him willingly. And so, Tress wisely remained silent on the matter.
“Regardless,” the dragon said, “the deal has been struck. I must pay you, however little I think the trade was worth. So ask your boon. Be quick with it.”
“Can you remove a curse that the Sorceress bestowed?”
“No,” he said. “Nor will I do anything to help your quest. There is precisely one being I fear on this planet—and no, your friend Cephandrius doesn’t count.”
Rude.
“I don’t know if there’s anything I want…” Tress said, feeling exhausted. “My life is enough.” She hesitated. “Unless…”
“Yes?”
“Would you consider three small boons instead of one large one?”
THE SURVIVOR
A short time later, a very tired Tress hiked the last few feet up out of the tunnel, holding three cloth-wrapped packages—one larger, two smaller.
She was greeted by the sight of Laggart, standing watch at the ship’s rail. The two stood, facing one another while his brain caught up to his eyes, then his common sense came huffing up behind with an ache in its side. He lowered his gun and backed away.
This allowed a crowd of more friendly faces to appear. They cheered as Tress sluggishly settled into the ship’s launch. The tunnel collapsed in on itself as soon as the Dougs began hoisting her up to the deck. At the top, she was greeted by an ecstatic Ann.
“How?” she demanded. “How?”
“The captain probably should have gagged me,” Tress said. “Take note, Ann. If you ever go to make an important deal, make certain your payment can’t speak for itself.”
You’d be surprised how often that advice has been relevant during my travels.
“Here,” Tress said, handing one of the small packages to Ann. “The dragon couldn’t help me with my problem, so I got this for you.”
The woman took it, frowning. But Tress was too tired to explain at the moment. The crew, realizing this, gave her a little space as she picked her way over to where Dr. Ulaam was tending Fort and Salay. Their wounds were already being treated by one of his fantastic salves—they didn’t heal a person immediately, but they did speed it up and left one feeling in much better shape.
Ulaam was explaining the benefits of the various noses he could provide （I’ve always wanted to try the one that can’t smell cheeses）， but Fort just slumped against the rail, staring ahead as if dazed.
Tress knelt, then delicately unwrapped the larger of the two remaining packages. Inside was another board like the one Crow had destroyed. Fort sat up immediately. He looked from her to the board, then back at her.
Then he hugged her. No words needed to be said. Ann walked up holding the pair of spectacles she’d unwrapped, one end dangling from her fingers as if she were holding a dead mouse by the tail.
“The dragon,” Tress explained, “says you have something called micropsia. He gave a technical explanation, but I didn’t understand it. I don’t know if that disease could have caused you to somehow hit someone standing behind you, but…well, those spectacles should help.”