The stranger came as a surprise. I woke at dawn to find him wandering the beach, staring up with dread at a massive skull. He started upon seeing me. “I didn’t think there would be anyone else here,” he explained, speaking in Daanorian.

I took an immediate dislike to him. He wore too many rings on his fingers, his heartsglass nearly hidden by the copious glitter of jeweled embellishments that littered his neck. He stank of magic; even I, who have had no training, could smell it on his person. My Drychta upbringing rose to the surface as much as I tried to stem its ascent; like Istera, Drychta have no love for Daanorian folk.

“Are those things real?” he asked, staring up at the hideous bones that stuck out from the sand. His heartsglass glittered, more green than gold. I did not need to be an asha to read what was written there.

“As real as you or I,” I responded shortly.

“To find such a skeleton intact is a rare treat,” the man marveled. “Is it daeva? Imagine how many millions of li it could sell for at the black markets! It is just what she told me!”

“She?”

“The woman in my dream. I followed the blue moon over twenty hills in twenty days and found her standing underneath the bones of a great beast. She spoke of valuable cargo that I must deliver and promised the most precious of rewards if I obeyed.”

I began to tremble. “What is her name?”

“I do not know. But she has soft brown skin and dark hair, and a dragon lines her robes. Her eyes—” And he too shuddered.

“You are Lu Ren of Daanoris. A governor of the Santiang province.”

Neither of us heard her approach. The man recoiled at the sight of her, with her hideous pet taurvi trotting by her side.

“A daeva!” He stumbled and fell onto the sand but continued to scramble away.

“Stay,” the girl said gently. Lu Ren stopped. He turned in compliance to her wishes, his face a mask of anguish.

“In three days’ time, Daanoris will be overrun by daeva, and Santiang will be among the first to fall. They will scorch your lands and destroy all that they see. They will enter the capital of Tuadan, and nothing will remain of your houses nor of the palaces of your emperor and his royal court.”

The merchant swayed on his feet, wringing his hands. “But why?” he cried.

“Because it is necessary,” the girl told him sadly. “Because the man who sits on your throne is a cruel emperor and an obstacle in my path. And that is why you are to return to Santiang immediately, to warn your people of what is to come. You will order them to flee the cities and to take refuge in the mountains. Save as many as you are able. Spread the word to other towns, and encourage them to do the same. In five days, Daanoris will fall—do not let your people fall with it.”

The man recoiled, but even in the face of such tragedy, his avarice struggled for dominion. “And my reward, Mistress?” he asked. “The most precious of rewards that you promised?”

“You leave with your life intact, good merchant,” the girl replied, and the taurvi raised its head and meowed at the terrified Daanori. “Surely that is the most precious of rewards? Now, go.”

And so the merchant turned with a cry of despair and began his trek back toward Santiang, leaving nothing but his footprints behind.