"So it could have been, one that you and Thick shared," Chade replied. "I think we can leave this now and settle to our real business here."

"I think not," I said. Something in Chade's easy dismissal warned me that the old man did not want us to speak of this but I was willing to sacrifice part of my secret to discover his. "I think the dragon is real. Moreover, I think we have heard of her before. Tintaglia, the Bingtown dragon. The one that masked boy spoke of."

"Selden Vestrit." Dutiful supplied his name quietly. "Can dragons Skill, then? Why would she demand to know what we knew of a black dragon? Does she mean Icefyre?"

"Almost certainly she does. But that is the only one of your questions that I can answer." I turned reluctantly to face Chade's scowl. "She has touched my dreams before, with the same demand. That I tell her what I knew of a black dragon and an island. She knows of our quest, most likely from the Bingtown contingent that came to invite us so cordially to their war with Chalced. But I think that she only knows as much as they did. That there is a dragon trapped in ice, and that Dutiful goes to slay him."

Chade made a sound almost like a growl. "Then she'll know the name of the island as well. Aslevjal. It is only a matter of time before she discovers where that is. The Bingtown Traders are famous for doing just that: trading. If they want a chart that shows the way to Aslevjal, they'll obtain one."

I spread my hands, displaying a calm I didn't feel. "There is nothing we can do about that, Chade. We'll have to deal with whatever develops."

He pushed back his chair. "Well, I could deal with it better if I knew enough to expect it," he said. His voice rose as he did. He stalked to the window and stared out over the sea. Then he turned his head to glare at me over his shoulder. "What else have you not told me?"