The rushing, wet air bit him ferociously and brought him back to faraway times and places. He was a young wizard in a fur coat and hat, tearing through a frozen battlefield with his hands outstretched in magic spells. He was a novice, standing outside in the wizard stronghold watching his breath fog up and practicing his newfound magic by shaping it into the four letters of his name. He remembered his hands growing numb with cold as he persisted; yud was easy, of course, but at first he kept getting stuck on the intricacies of tzadik.

  The dragon snorted. Now he could write an entire message in the sky with floating leaves just by thinking about it.

  His mind sank even further back into memory. He was a young child hiding in the corner to get away from all the yelling. It was cold inside the house, and dangerous too—dangerous if you said the wrong thing to one of the adults, or even one of the older boys. Mammeh couldn’t help; she was even more cowed than he was. He wrapped the old blanket around his shoulders and wished he was invisible. Don’t tell them anything anymore. It’s not safe. If they know what you’re thinking, you’re not safe.

  Pushing this unsettling reverie aside, Isaac realized it was time to check his flight path. Dipping below the clouds, he did his best to mimic the chaotic, prey-driven behavior of a wild dragon, one that didn’t have a human soul lurking inside. The sudden warm air enlivened him and jolted him back to his tropical present, rich in warmth both literal and emotional.

  He scanned the grasslands for deer to pretend to chase—not that a real meal wouldn’t be welcome after all that flying in cold!—but his real mission was to study the road and the rivers. Not too much longer, now.

  Once he landed, Isaac had to make his way toward Ir Ilan in lizard form. He crawled methodically through the grass, inhaling the clean, alive smell of green growth and dirt. After the misery up in the clouds, he was determined to enjoy this part of the journey even if it was annoying that he couldn’t do it ten times faster in human form.

  The marketplace that ran down the central road of Ir Ilan was closed up for Shabbat, but there were still people strolling around taking in the late afternoon air. Isaac scurried back and forth on the road avoiding their feet. Here and there he crawled across the walls of buildings instead, when the way seemed easier.

  Grapefruit Street was relatively empty compared with the activity on Orange Street and King Asher Boulevard. The houses grew farther apart as the road wound and curved between the trees, and Isaac stopped seeing people in the path. Veiled in greenery, the calm neighborhood didn’t seem like it would harbor a gang of Imbrian spies nor any kind of conspiracy more serious than a chicken hiding her eggs.

  When Isaac had the final house in his sight, he fixed his eyes on it and ran. He was so single-minded that he nearly ran smack into—another lizard!

  They stared at each other, lizard and shapeshifter. Isaac cocked his head. The other lizard replied by unfurling his great red dewlap. A challenge.

  I don’t have time for this. Isaac did a couple of lizard push-ups and showed his own dewlap, never taking his eyes off the other lizard.

  Convinced, the other lizard backed off. Rivka is going to laugh at this for days, Isaac thought as he ran toward the house. He laughed himself as he realized from a rustling behind him that the other lizard was following him into the house.

  When he got there, he saw why the other lizard was so invested in keeping him away. A healthy supply of tiny ants provided ample motive to defend this modest territory. He restrained himself from sampling them, wishing to avoid further pointless conflict with his reptilian brothers.

  Isaac crawled up to the ceiling so he could take a census of the room’s human occupants.

  The first person he noticed was a nondescript man, with the characteristic pale skin and black hair of the Imbrians, asleep on a sofa in the center of the room. Two jugs rested beside him on the floor, and one look at the man’s open mouth told Isaac that this might be the heavy drinker with the missing tooth from Ezra’s notes.

  A woman, Perachi from her coloring and clothes, emerged from the house’s back room. She ignored the sleeping man and sat down at the large table, returning to the garlic cloves she’d been shucking.

  “All that and you return so quickly to your cooking?” Isaac jerked his head to follow the Imbrian-accented voice. Another pale, dark-haired man appeared, in the doorway of the back room. His shirt and hair were rumpled, and he leaned against the doorframe.

  The woman looked up from her work. “But Rui will be back with André and they’re both expecting dinner. You remember, like last time? They didn’t stop to eat the whole way so they wouldn’t get overheard like that time in the restaurant.”

  Isaac thought he saw fear in her large eyes.

  The Imbrian approached her slowly, his movements fluid. “Talia, minha adorada.” He laid a hand delicately on each of her shoulders and nuzzled her head from behind with his nose and mouth. “Our busy little flower.”

  They won Tova with hate, and this Talia with love, Isaac noted. Then he simply continued watching.

  “You could help me, if you like,” Talia suggested. “If I finish faster, maybe you can… I can…” The Imbrian was kissing the back of her neck now, and his hands had traveled across to clasp her bosom.

  Isaac turned away. He kept to the shadows as he headed for a vase of branches at the center of the room, figuring it would be a perfect vantage point once Rui and André returned. Settling in between the leaves, he waited.

  Talia somehow managed to cook while evading her Imbrian suitor’s advances, and at some point the inebriate on the couch woke up, blinked stupidly for several minutes, and then demanded water.

  Before long, the house was filled with the aroma of garlic and frying meat, and not a moment too soon. Horse hooves thumped outside, and there was a great jangling and clattering as the door opened to admit two large, pale-skinned men. They both had black hair and healthy beards. One was young and very thin, the other larger, older, and radiating the confidence of a leader.

  “It smells wonderful in here,” said the older of the two in Imbrian. Then he repeated himself in Perachi. “Thank you, Talia. I can’t wait to eat.”

  “Did anyone see you?” asked the one who was Talia’s lover.

  “No, we were safe.”

  “What about at the border?”

  “We posed as traders looking for new sources.”

  “That’s ironic,” quipped Talia’s lover.

  The leader laughed. “You could say that.”

  “Is André carrying a message?” The man with the missing tooth stood up, making a face as if standing brought him pain.

  The younger of the new arrivals stepped forward and removed a folded, sealed paper from deep within his clothes. “Right here.”

  “Let’s open it!” said Talia’s lover.

  “We should let them eat first,” countered the man with the missing tooth.

  They both looked at André, who shrugged. “It’s up to Rui.”

  The older leader, the one who was called Rui, pursed his lips for a moment, then sat down at the table. “The letter can surely wait five minutes. It’s been days since I’ve eaten anything that wasn’t packed in a pouch.”

  As they fell upon the food, Isaac evaluated the situation. That paper was probably the most important thing in the room right now. He could think of plenty of magic-based ways he could abscond with it easily, but unfortunately, they were all untenable as all involved him revealing his presence. That would never do, because Rivka and her team planned a surprise ambush.

  Well, nothing to do but wait in the vase until they finished eating and then, hopefully, they’d open up the letter and read it out loud.

  “What about money?” asked the man with the missing tooth.

  Rui, his hands around a stuffed pita, cracked a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve brought plenty.”

  “Plenty for you to drink your share as usual,” muttered Talia’s lover.

  “I’ve done everything Rui asked of me, and more.” The man with the missing tooth glared at him. “Where were you the night we took care of the snoop in Home City?”

  Isaac’s heart quickened. Ezra’s murderer had just confessed right in front of him!

  “Light another lamp,” Rui commanded. “It’s getting darker outside.”

  If night approached, Isaac realized that his wife and her troops wouldn’t be far behind. Perhaps it was time to make his escape and go find them at the prearranged spot at the corner of Asher and Orange.

  On the other hand, all he had so far was proof-ish that they’d been involved in the murder of Ezra. Other than a vague and offhand comment, nobody had as yet mentioned the plot to ruin Perach’s olives.

  He also desperately wanted to find out what was in that letter.

  “Talia is a true goddess among women.” Rui stood and held out his hand to her, and she nodded bashfully in appreciation. She began to clear away the dishes as the men filed into the seating area, some carrying oil lamps, which they set upon the table where Isaac was sitting in the vase.

  “Is there enough light in here?” asked André, looking at Rui for approval.

  “I can see.” Rui was last to join them, relaxing into a chair holding a glass of something Isaac figured might be port.

  “Can you see well enough to pay us?” asked the man with the missing tooth. “The plan is working. The leafhoppers have completely infested the northern groves. Talk is all over the market and the oil prices already rise. Yet, here I am low on coin. If I were to be cut loose tonight, I’d have an empty purse to show for it.”

  “Who told you to drink your purse?” muttered Talia’s lover.

  Isaac vibrated with excitement. That was more than a confession.

  “André brought us a generous payment this time.” Rui rummaged through his pockets, and Isaac heard the clinking noise of money. “Are they desperate enough to buy Imbrian oil yet?”

  Time to get out and find Rivka. He still wanted the letter, but with the team on the way, it was more important to find them and confirm that yes, this was definitely the house.

  Isaac was just about to crawl down the vase and make his exit when Talia’s lover pounced on something and flicked it into the fire in one of the lamps. A horrid, choking smell filled the air.

  André turned toward the drunkard in shock. “Did you just—what was that for?”

  “He’s crazy,” said the drunkard dismissively.

  “Shut up, you alcoholic idiot,” said Talia’s lover.

  “Did he just throw a lizard into the lamp?” André squinted into the flickering glare.

  “He does that every time a lizard crawls in here.” The drunkard waved his hand dismissively and relaxed against the sofa.

  “And for good reason!” Talia’s lover shouted. “You’re so drowned in drink you probably can’t remember, but any one of them could be the Perachi queen’s spy.”

  André looked at Rui, his eyes squinted in puzzlement. “What?”

  “That pervert wizard,” said Rui, counting out coins and seemingly nonplussed by the murdered creature or the argument it had caused. “He transforms into lizards and snakes, so that one’s been killing all the lizards that run in here. And we have ants, so there’s no shortage.” He paused for a moment, recounting the money under his breath. “You’re making me lose count.”

  Isaac, who had frozen in place during this entire horrifying conversation, slunk backward into the vase. Now what?

  “It does make sense, I guess,” said André. “Why did you call him a pervert?”

  “He’s sleeping his way across the Royal Guard, is what I heard,” said Talia’s lover.

  “I thought it was just the captain,” said the man with the missing tooth.

  Thank you for standing up for my fidelity, Isaac grumbled inwardly. What could he do? If he turned human, he could easily subdue the men temporarily with buzzing whips of energy from his fingers and walk out of the room. If he levitated random objects—such as one of Talia’s kettles—they might be distracted for a few moments. But, either plan depended on revealing the presence of a wizard, and then they’d all flee before he could get to Rivka and her men.

  “There, there, and there.” Rui paid each of the men. Then he raised his glass. “A toast! To our noble and beautiful Queen Carolina.”

  “Long live Queen Carolina,” said the other men, each lifting his drink in respect.

  Yes, but is she behind this or not? Isaac scanned the room with rotating, beady eyes. This way? That way? Across the floor? Over the ceiling? What was the best way out of here? Because he had to get out. That was not optional. His safety, his duty to his adopted country—there had to be a way to preserve them both.

  Step one was probably a diversion, but one that was innocuous enough that it wouldn’t make anyone think magic was involved. There were eggs on Talia’s kitchen counter, but when he tried prodding at them with his mind, he realized they were comfortably settled enough in their basket that rolling one out to crack on the floor would be conspicuously unnatural. Same with the oranges beside them. Too bad. What he really wanted to do was send all the oranges whizzing around the room, knocking each conspirator in the head. Maybe an extra one for Talia’s lover and his lizard-scorching habit.

  What about the fire itself? No… that could be too dangerous. He didn’t want the house going up in flames; he needed that letter to get back to Rivka—and Shulamit—intact.

  He could pull a single hair on someone’s head… then they’d yelp and everyone would look in that direction. But nobody was sitting with his head back against anything, so there wouldn’t be the obvious answer of “it caught in the chair.”

  Then he remembered the ants.

  Carefully, gently, his breathing steady and his body trembling with concentration, he coaxed the trail of ants by the doorway farther into the room. Each time he inhaled, the energy of his breath drew them closer. That’s it, little bugs. You want bugs? We have bugs too. I’ll give you bugs.

  Rui smacked his ankle. “Those stinking ants. I don’t understand.”

  The drunkard shook his head. “It’s not like this place is dirty or anything.”

  “They’re harmless,” Talia called from washing up the kitchen.

  “I don’t care,” Rui huffed. “I don’t want them on me.”

  Meanwhile, Isaac crawled gingerly out of the vase and scrambled as fast as his little legs could carry him toward the crack under the door.

  “Hey!”

  “What, did you find where the ants are coming in?”

  “They’re coming in from the door,” said Rui. “We already knew that. But there’s another lizard over there.”

  Talia’s lover leapt up from his seat and was across the floor in two bounds.

  “Don’t encourage him,” yawned the man with the missing tooth, rolling his eyes.

  Isaac ran for the gap, but his pursuer beat him to it and blocked the way. He narrowly escaped the rough pair of hands that grabbed for him and leapt onto the wall. Talia’s lover darted after him, but Isaac made it up to the ceiling and continued his evasion.

  Scurrying to and fro across the ceiling in random squiggles, Isaac did his best to avoid the men chasing him. One of them—he couldn’t tell which in the confusion—was trying to use Talia’s broom to sweep him down, and another swatted at him with a fan.

  “It’s just a lizard,” called the man with the missing tooth from the sofa, and he took another drink from his jug.

  Isaac ran curlicues across the ceiling until he saw once again a clear path to the doorway. If he ran across the ceiling and down the door, they could catch him on his way down. But if he went down another wall and across the floor, they could step on him.

  But stepping on him could result in a clean getaway, if he understood his training properly. He took a deep breath. Maybe it was time to find out if lizard shifters shared their mundane cousins’ breakaway tail.

  He allowed himself half a second for prayer and the rest of the second for Rivka’s eyes, and then he ran to one edge of the ceiling. As the men pooled there in that corner, he doubled back and ran down a different wall.

  Isaac’s limbs burned as he scrabbled for his life across the floor. The black space under the door stood out like a dark beacon. He only had to make it most of the way through. Come on… for queen and country… and his own head!

  Thump, thump, thump and someone was right behind him. Then, suddenly, a shock of pain rocked his backside. His tail was crushed under a boot.

  But he kept running.

  His center of gravity shifted wildly and he was nearly thrown off balance, but he adjusted and kept running, squeezing under the door to darkness and safety even as a pair of hands clapped against what was left of his tail. Soaked in adrenaline, he was well into the brush on the side of the road before the feeling of rawness set in. There was stinging pain as if he’d peeled a cuticle too deeply on his finger, but worse, and whatever a lizard had for exposed skin when its tail had been pulled off felt tender and angry in the night air.

  He curled himself around a stick and caught his breath, evaluating his body. He’d made it out of the house, but the night had only begun and he needed to find Rivka right away. There was no time to waste by continuing in this tiny form, especially if Talia’s lover managed to persuade the others that letting a lizard, any lizard, get away meant that the queen’s forces were on to them. But what would happen, now that he’d been mangled, once he turned back into a man?

  21. The Raid

  Captain Riv Maror waited on horseback with the rest of her troops, in silent formation between a building and the fountain at the corner of King Asher Boulevard and Orange Street. She scanned the streets for Isaac—as a human or a lizard—her eyes also occasionally glancing upward in case he’d had reason to meet them as a dragon.

  In the meantime, she also evaluated the men she’d brought with her. Each face was resolute and prepared for the mission. Each man had relatives in the Lovely Valley or otherwise employed in agriculture; nobody in Perach could survive without the hard work and luck of the farmers. They all knew what was at stake and, though they might now be smiling and joking quietly in the false calm of the night air, hands burned to grasp their weaponry for the patriotic cause.