As the scribe knelt beside him, Railing pulled him close. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "I told you to wait!"

Woostra scowled. "I got tired of waiting," he whispered. He glanced worriedly into the gloom. "What is it? What's out there?"

Railing shook his head, refusing to answer. "Just don't move!" he said. "Don't say anything!"

He was already summoning the wishsong, convinced that whatever was coming was too dangerous for them to risk waiting. A low hum, barely more than a whisper, it rode the ensuing silence like a ghost in search of a haunt, building on itself, forming into an amorphous and malleable presence that could be shaped and dispatched in the blink of an eye.

Out in the haze, something moved. Something very big.

Railing exhaled soundlessly. He could just make it out through the gap between the bins where he crouched between Woostra and Mirai. The latter must have seen it, as well, for she gave a small gasp and pressed more tightly against him. She was so close he could feel her breath against his face, warm and feathery. Woostra had adopted a hedgehog defense, collapsed into a tight ball, head buried in his arms. Together they waited, so afraid it was all they could do not to bolt and run. But flight from whatever this was would be pointless. Doing anything that caught its attention would be the end of them.

The rain strengthened suddenly, gusts blowing across the decking and into their eyes. A second later a clawed hand reached for the rail and fastened in place, close to where the bowsprit jutted into the darkness. A sleek shape rose into view-what looked to be an immense lizard-towering over the airship bow, dozens of feet in length. It was hard to determine more than the general size and shape, but it appeared thick-bodied and sinuous as it hauled itself halfway onto the foredeck.

Railing was singing full-out now, using every last vestige of his magic to gather and shape the elements around him, forming a cloaking for Mirai, Woostra, and himself. He made their smell vanish and their shapes dilute. He masked their presence with a combination of darkness and damp, drawing in and thickening the rain and gloom. He watched the creature sway slowly from side to side, an unwelcome invader looming over the bins, the foredeck, and themselves. A silent shudder ran through him but he held fast to the wishsong, keeping the cloaking in place.

Then, abruptly, the creature lowered its head until it was almost touching the coverings of the bins, its bulk directly atop them. Its jaws split wide, filled with rows of jagged teeth that were monstrous and threatening. Railing could feel Mirai shaking. He had his arm about her, and he tightened his grip on her shoulders.

Make no sound, he willed her. No movement. All will be well. I will protect you. I will give my life for you.

For several endless seconds he believed they had been discovered and that-with the swiftness for which lizards the world over were known-it would snap them up like helpless insects. But then the creature withdrew, slithering away again, retreating over the rail and off the airship. Railing watched it go, still singing, still holding fast to what he had begun, taking no chances. The lizard's head swung back briefly, as if making sure; then it skittered off into the rain and gloom.

For a long time afterward, Railing didn't move. With Mirai still pressing close against him and Woostra huddled close, he stayed where he was behind the bins, crouched down beneath the sheltering magic of the wishsong. He kept it in place, his voice soft and steady, until the danger was clearly past.

Finally, as the rains began to abate slightly and the gloom to clear marginally, he let it die away into silence.

Mirai looked at him questioningly, then lifted her head to look about. Woostra, sensing her movement, did the same. Together they rose and stood peering through the lessening gloom, trying to decide if all was indeed safe again, if the creature was truly gone.

"The next time this happens," Woostra said finally, "I can promise you I will be staying below."

When the searchers appeared abruptly from the west, trudging sodden and discouraged out of the damp and dark, all three hurried out to greet them.

Challa Nand lounged against the aft rail next to the boy as Austrum and his Rover companions ran up the sails on the Quickening and prepared to get under way. With the storm beginning to slow and the heavy weather to move on, the Troll had advised that there was no reason for further delay and every reason to get the airship aloft, regardless of the fact that it was still deep into the night.

"That creature was some sort of mountain lizard," he advised, looking out into the new day's persistent gloom as if he might still catch sight of it. "A Wynendot or a Spurken, one of those sorts. There's not all that many of them left, but this far north you have to be wary. I thought we were still south of their range, but apparently not."

The search party had returned embittered, frustrated, and empty-handed, just as the Troll had anticipated they would. They had found no trace of the missing men, although at least they hadn't lost any more. Skint and Challa Nand had managed to keep the rest of them safe while they floundered around looking for their fellows.

"The lizard took them during the storm," the Troll advised. "It has a long tongue-very adept at snagging food-so it probably happened pretty quickly. The storm must have hidden their screams. There wasn't much anyone could have done. It was just bad luck it found the ship in the first place."

Then he looked over at Railing. "It was good luck, though, that you kept your wits about you when it came back for a second helping. Those lizards are very aggressive. If you'd tried to defend yourself, it would have come at you, and you wou would have had to kill it-if you could have managed it, and that's far from certain. Better that you didn't try at all. Using the magic to hide yourself, the scribe, and the girl was the right choice. That was quick thinking." Then he paused. "But how did you know it was there? You couldn't see a hand span in front of your face out there."

"I sensed it." Railing gave him a look. "I just did."

"Hmmm." The Troll considered and then shrugged. "You are a constant source of fresh surprises."

"I'm just getting by the best I can."

"As are we all." The Troll pushed back from the rail. "We're down two men. More, if you count the old Rover. I don't like how he looks, by the way. So you have a choice. Do we continue on or turn back? Let's hear you say it out loud."

Railing never hesitated. "Continue on."

"As I suspected." Challa Nand began walking away. "Don't forget to let me know when you're ready to tell me the rest of what you're hiding."

Railing scowled. The Troll was as persistent as Mirai.

They released the lines and lifted off shortly after, turning into the heart of the Charnals and setting a course northwest through the maze of peaks. Standing at the bow a short time later, Railing stared out across a dark sea of mountains that reached to the horizon and, for all he knew, to the end of the world. Mist capped the peaks; overhead the skies remained black and clouded, although small windows of starlight could be glimpsed here and there along the horizon. The mountains glistened with snow at their higher elevations and with the damp of the storm farther down. All of it had a eerie, shadowed look, but also seemed hard-edged and immutable as well.

With Farshaun still lying below, injured and incapable of taking the helm, Mirai and Austrum shared that duty throughout the dark of the night. Railing offered to help, but Challa Nand suggested he might be more useful keeping watch from the bow. He could sense things the rest of them could not; that was clear enough from tonight's events. If any other dangers awaited them, he might be able to warn them.

So the boy spent the rest of the night standing against the forward rail, casting surreptitious glances back at the pilot box to see if Mirai and Austrum were spending time together. No one seemed able to sleep, too keyed up from the night's evnts, and he could not seem to help himself; his jealousy was undiminished. Even though she had called the Rover stupid for insisting on searching for his missing men, Railing could not shake the feeling that she continued to be attracted to Austrum and that her infatuation was undermining their own relationship. In spite of the fact she had told him, bluntly, that friendship was as much as he had the right to expect, he still harbored hopes for something more. How could he not? He had loved her for as long as he could remember-he dismissed the fact that Redden had loved her, too, because it didn't seem to him that his brother had loved her quite so much-and it had always seemed to him that she was responding to his feelings, reciprocating in her own way.

But not since Austrum had appeared. Not since his dramatic rescue of the company in the Fangs and the way he had brazenly kissed Mirai. That had changed everything.

He stayed at his post as the damp returned in a fine mist that soon morphed into a steady drizzle. Challa Nand had already determined they would keep flying through the night, weather permitting; setting down in these mountains had proved entirely too dangerous given the nature of the creatures that lived here and the terrain they inhabited. Better to stay above it all, the big Troll admonished when Railing had suggested it might be safer not to fly through mountains in the pitch black. Better to take your chances with things that never moved than with things that never stopped moving.

Railing stepped away from his post at last, unable to stand it another minute, relinquishing the helm to Mirai. Then he went down into the hold to see if Farshaun Req was awake.

After stopping to speak with Aleppo first, Railing moved over to the old man and knelt by his side. He was, indeed, awake. Those still-sharp eyes found him in the gloom, and a brief smile crossed his lips. "I thought you had forgotten about me."

"No one could ever forget about you." Railing bent close. "You look a little worse for wear."

"I don't feel all that good, either. Where are we?"

"Somewhere inside the Charnals, flying northwest toward the Klu. I hope."

Farshaun nodded. "Mirai says you saved her life tonight. Again. Maybe you saved us all. You're becoming good at that. You saved me back there in the Fangs, remember?"

Railing shook his head in denial. "We saved each other, you and me. We were warriors, weren't we?"

"I'm not much of a warrior anymore. I'm just tired."

The boy didn't like the sound of the old man's breathing, harsh and uneven, as if he was struggling to use his lungs. Railing wished he had taken time to learn how to use the wishsong's magic to heal, as others in his family had done. But he had not, and trying anything with Farshaun now was too dangerous. "Can I get you something to eat or drink? Are you taking the medicine Mirai's been giving you?"

Farshaun grunted. "Oh, that girl thinks a potion or an ointment is the answer to everything, but she's just making it up as she goes. It's age and nothing else."

"It's arrows in your chest and arm and loss of blood. You really are a stubborn old man."

Farshaun laughed weakly. "Always was. Just kept it hidden until I got old enough to admit it." He coughed, and there was blood on his lips. "You listen to me. That girl, she's worth a dozen of you or me. She's got grit and determination that hasn't even been scratched in other people. She's got heart. And she loves you."

Railing stared. "No, she doesn't. She doesn't even like me much."

Farshaun reached out and took hold of his wrist. "You don't see things the way I do, Railing. Not about this, or about Redden, either. You've got no distance from these matters. You're too close to them. Just step back and take another look."

"She likes Austrum just now." He was uncomfortable with this whole discussion. "He's the one she wants."

Farshaun released his wrist. "You think that way if you want. No one can tell you anything, can they? Go on and get back to your post. I need to sleep. I'm too tired to think now. We'll talk again in the morning."

Railing took the old man's hand and squeezed gently. Then he lay the hand back on the other's pallet, rose to his feet, and stood looking down at the already sleeping man.