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By Eric Van Lustbader

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ERIC VAN LUSTBADER DRAGONS ON THE SEA OF NIGHT This is for my father, Who asked for more tales. The world is more - Once we understand there is Only this, we have woken From the Dark. From the Tablets of the Iskamen That which is known as Magic Was once the progeny of ignorance. ' Qaylinn, the chief Rosh'hi of the Bujun, gripped the wooden balustrade of the terrace that ran the entire length of the top floor of the temple of which he was the master. His old, lined face shone in the deep russet glow of the huge, oblate sun as it began to sink over the marshes where geese rose and alit as they had from time immemorial.

His prominent nose seemed sculpted out of granite, his cheeks to have been scraped from the depths of the howling deserts. His mouth was like a dagger of ice, slashed horizontally across the lower half of his face. He was, in short, like no other creature either man had ever met. 'Dai-San,' Oaylinn said softly, with a small, ceremonial bow. ' The Dai-San's terrifying mouth split into what might, in others, have been a smile. ' Qaylinn lifted a hand briefly in Ojime's direction. 'May I introduce High Minister Ojime.

Confident that the weather had turned for good and that within hours they would be back on course for Iskael, he went belowdeck to his cabin, where Aufeya was waiting for him. He told her the legend of Miira's Mirror as she lay in their berth, swathed in warming blankets, while the Tsubasa rode a tranquil sea and lightly gusting trade winds beneath a star-filled night sky toward Iskael. Just her nose and eyes peeped out from beneath the blankets and she seemed, with her wild hair and copper eyes, to be no more than a small child readying herself to hear a night-time tale before sleep.

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