"Even with your magic, you might find you can't keep such a promise."

"Captain Fowler, I have fought more battles than you know. It is true that I have not won them all, but never have I abandoned someone else out of fear for myself."

These last words Ruha spoke with particular venom, for she was offended by Fowler's condescension. "But if you truly value your ship above other men's lives, the Harpers will guarantee my promise. If the dragon sinks the Storm

Sprite, we will buy you another."

Fowler's face hardened. "And why are you so keen to fight the drake, Witch? Do you think to redeem yourself for the Voonlar debacle?"

Ruha felt her cheeks redden, and her anger evaporated like water spilled upon the desert floor. "At least I know why you lack faith in me."

The Voonlar debacle had been Ruha's first assignment.

Storm Silverhand had sent her to work in a Voonlar tav- ern, where she was to serve as a secret intermediary and messenger. On her first day, a slave smuggler had crossed her palm with a silver coin. Ruha, failing to understand the significance of the gesture, had accepted the offering with thanks, then balked at delivering the expected ser- vices. Feeling slighted, the furious slaver had refused to accept the coin's return and drawn his dagger. He would certainly have killed the witch if one of his own men, a Harper spy, had not leapt to her defense. As it was, she and the spy had been forced to fight their way to safety, leaving the smuggler free to sell a hundred men, women, and children into bondage.

"I am sorry for the misery I caused the slaves of Voon- lar. Not a night passes when my nightmares do not ring with their cries." Ruha raised her chin and locked gazes with the half-ore. "But I assure you, my shame is as noth- ing compared to the disgrace of a coward who turns from those he can save."

The half-ore's arm slipped free of the tiller, his lips curling back to show sharp tusks and yellow fangs, and he stepped toward Ruha. The witch did not back away, nor did she avoid his eyes, and when there came on the wind a distant roar and the splintering of ship timbers,