Shadow Scale: A Companion to Seraphina(101)

I questioned with my eyes. He smiled, leaning in a little, and said, “Because I found you again. However strenuously the world pulls us apart, however long the absence, we are not changed for being dashed upon the rocks. I knew you then, I know you now, I shall know you again when you come home.”

And that was the last thing he said to me before he left. I could not bear to watch him sail away. When I returned to Naia’s, the emptiness in the harbor was palpable still.





It would be a week before Comonot and the exiles were supplied and ready to go. I sent the Ardmagar a note that very evening, informing him that I would accompany him to the Tanamoot. I got a reply within the hour—from Eskar—inviting me to a meeting at the Vasilikon the next day to discuss the logistics and timing of the dragon exodus.

That night, however, a Samsamese armada slipped silently into position around the harbor while Porphyry slept. The barricade, seen in the morning light, comprised some twenty-five ships stretched in a line between Porphyry and the island of Laika. This was more force than a meager boatload of knights merited. The Samsamese admiral came ashore and holed up with the Assembly in the Vasilikon.

Our meeting was postponed until the following day. I spent the unexpected free time with some of Abdo’s cousins, watching the flotilla from the seawall.

The next morning, as I crossed the Zokalaa, I saw the nuncio on the steps. I worked my way through the pressing crowds in front of the Vasilikon and heard him announce: “The Samsamese demand the return of their countrymen and burned ship; Mother Porphyry happily returns them. They demand the Goreddi knights, but Mother Porphyry harbors none. Now they ask for our ityasaari.”

That got my attention. I knew one person in Samsam interested in gathering ityasaari. I craned my neck, trying to see around coiled hairdos.

“Mother Porphyry denies this request!” boomed the nuncio, and the crowd cheered. “Citizens, we scorn this feeble Samsamese blockade. Our navy could crush them for their insolence, but we choose not to. The Assembly asks the citizenry for kindness and patience in these irritating times. There will be no disruption of produce from the Omiga Valley. Fisherfolk unable to work due to the blockade will be compensated.…”

This blockade would surely complicate Comonot’s departure. The exiles were supposed to take their natural form and fly up the falls of the Omiga, but it was hard to hide two hundred dragons taking off. Word would get back to Josef, and who knew what he would do with the information?

When I reached Speaker Melaye’s office, Eskar, Comonot, Ikat, and other leaders of the saarantrai had arrived, but the meeting had not yet started. I drew Comonot aside and quietly told him my concerns. He scoffed. “Regent Josef wouldn’t tell the Old Ard we’re coming. Why would he help them?”

“It wouldn’t be to help them so much as to hurt you,” I insisted. “If dragons fight each other, he loses fewer Samsamese lives per dragon death. Even Josef couldn’t deny the logic of that.”

“Hatred is never logical,” said Comonot pompously. “He wants to fight dragons himself, not shift the war back to the mountains.”

Speaker Melaye was listening in. “If the Regent hears that Porphyry is friendly with dragons,” she said, “will he use that as a pretext to strike at us?”

“We’ll fly by night,” said Comonot, shrugging. “I’m not worried.”

I worried enough for both of us.



It wasn’t just the blockade that worried me, of course. Abdo was no better. I hated to leave, not knowing what would become of him, but there was nothing I could do for him if I stayed. There seemed to be nothing anyone could do.

Early upon the seventh morning of the blockade, a messenger brought a note from Comonot stating that we would leave at sunset. I handed the note to Naia at her accounting desk, and she straightened her spectacles to read it.

Before she could say anything, Abdo’s alcove curtain was whipped aside and Abdo, breathing like he’d just run up a flight of stairs, staggered out. Naia was at his side in an instant. I hung back warily, but could tell from the way he smiled at his auntie that he was himself.

How are you feeling? I asked.

Abdo pulled out of Naia’s embrace and wobbled unsteadily. She had me trapped inside my own walls; I couldn’t even sleep or wake without her say-so. But then suddenly she … she just left. I don’t know why. He shook his head, as though he couldn’t believe it. Her hook is still in me, and she’ll attack again, I’m sure. Can you take me to Pende, quickly, before she comes back?

A word of explanation to Naia, and we were out the door. Naia carried Abdo on her back, and we hurried toward the Zokalaa and the temple of Chakhon.

Upon the steps of the temple, Abdo made Naia put him down. He signed as well as he could with one immobile hand; she understood him. She nodded tearfully, kissed his cheeks, and said, “Go. I’ll be waiting right here.”

I hesitated, wondering whether he wanted me to stay outside, too, but Abdo took my hand and dragged me in after him. We passed the cacophonous bell ropes and the great statue of Chance, did our ablutions, and ate from the loaf (I had to chance it; I was praying as fervently as anyone in the place). Abdo began pulling me across the courtyard, but a priestess—her eyes closed—stepped into our path. Abdo froze at the sight of her. She took a step toward us, unseeing, as if the god guided her feet.