Fowler was the first to glance away.

"Do not fear the dragon," Ruha urged. "My under- standing of magic far exceeds my knowledge of Heart- land customs."

Fowler shook his head as though trying to rid himself of some evil thought, and when he spoke, his voice was as low and guttural as a growl.

"As you wish, then!" He thrust his leathery palm under

Ruha's face. "But give me your pin. I wager this battle will go harder than you think, and if Umberlee takes offense at your gall, I'll want proof of your pledge."

Ruha started to object, then thought better and turned away. She reached inside her aba and removed the

Harper's pin hidden over her heart. It was a small silver brooch fashioned in the shape of a crescent moon, sur- rounded by four twinkling stars with a harp in the cen- ter. The pin had once belonged to Lander ofArchenbridge, a valiant scout who had died helping the Bedine tribes resist an army of rapacious Zhentarim invaders.

The witch handed the brooch to Fowler. "Guard it well. This pin was once worn by my beloved, and I cherish it more than life itself."

"That makes the risk the same for both of us." Fowler pinned the brooch inside his tunic, then hooked his arm around the tiller and turned his attention to the main deck. "Man the harpoons! Break out the axes and spears!

Ready yourselves for the attack!"

Every man upon the decks turned an astonished eye toward their captain, and the crew grumbled its displea- sure in one voice. A greasy-haired youth in a thin cotton tunic and gray, brine-stiffened trousers rushed up the stairs, stopping at the edge of the half deck.

"Cap'n, sure ye canno' mean to strike that dark thing first?"