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watching the place where the dragons had melted into the fog. He patted his face and blew air out of puffed cheeks, and then looked around him, blinking at Balfour, Hap, and Sophie. His eyebrows flickered as a thought seemed to occur.
    “Er . . . I don’t suppose we have any coffee?”

 
CHAPTER
5
    As the Bounder sailed from Chastor, there was mug after mug of coffee, and then Umber gorged himself on fruit, bread, fish, and cheese and washed it down with a mug of ale. Color dawned in the face that had long been a dreadful ashen shade. Hap sighed with relief as signs of Umber’s good nature reappeared: a twinkle in his eye, a waggle of his eyebrow, the fidgeting of hands and feet. Umber said little, but he finally looked up and offered a weak smile. The tightness in Hap’s chest, which had plagued him since Umber plunged into his dark mood, began to loosen.
    Umber picked up a napkin and dabbed the corners of his mouth. “Well,” he said, with his voice weak from disuse, “that was a terrible fate for Hameron.” Hap and the others nodded. “He was a louse, there’s no denying it,” Umber continued, gaining strength. “But nobody deserves that. Here’s to his memory.” He raised his goblet, and Balfour raised his, while Hap and Sophie sipped the cider that Balfour had brought them.
    Umber leaned back, quietly burped, and patted his swollen stomach. “Where’s Oates?”
    “Moping in the cabin,” Balfour told him. “He feels bad about . . . you know.”
    “Hum,” said Umber. “It wasn’t his fault Hameron stole the eggs. And imagine if the Dragon Lord hadn’t learned the truth; those dragons might have burned the whole ship if they hadn’t taken their revenge on Hameron alone. Come to think of it, Hameron probably saved every one of us.” Umber slapped the table. “But, Sophie, did you see those gorgeous creatures? Did you get a good look, so you can sketch ’em? Those wings , those tails —incredible! Though I think it best that we investigate no further, wouldn’t you agree? Fancy me, saying that! Ha!” He drummed the table with his palms. Hap shook his head, amazed at how quickly Umber had emerged from his near-fatal melancholy.
    Umber froze abruptly with his hands hovering over the table. His head swiveled toward Balfour. “Er . . . Balfour. My latest episode . . . it was a bad one, wasn’t it?”
    “You could say that.”
    “Weeks, I believe?”
    “That’s right.”
    Umber pinched the end of his nose. “I don’t remember much, as usual . . . but I have an odd feeling. . . . Did I see Fay? Balfour, did Fay come to the Aerie . . . while I was . . . you know?”
    Balfour puckered his mouth and scratched at a knot in the tabletop. “Who? Fay? Oh. Well. She did, in fact.”
    Umber put his palm to his forehead. “And she saw me? Face-to-face, I mean? You let her up to see me?”
    Balfour’s head shrank between his shoulders. “I . . . I thought it would help. You know. Jolt you out of your state.”
    Umber tilted his chair back and chuckled ruefully at the ceiling. “Well, now. I don’t imagine I made a wonderful second impression.”
    Balfour and Hap glanced at each other, widening their eyes, and Umber noticed. “What?” he said. “Something else? What happened? Fay is still in Kurahaven, isn’t she?”
    Balfour seemed to be shrinking. “She is.”
    “Well, where’d you put her? Someplace nice? Your old inn, right, Balfour?”
    Balfour stared down at the table without answering.
    “Sophie? Hap?” Umber said, turning from one to the other. “Care to tell me?”
    Oates chose that moment to lumber into the cabin, dour and puffy-eyed. Umber shot a frustrated glare at Balfour and called to the big man. “Oates, there you are!”
    “Yes, I am,” Oates rumbled. “And you’re better, I see. About time.”
    “I cherish your kind words,” Umber snapped. “But what I need right now is an honest answer: What happened after Fay came to the Aerie to see me?”
    Oates frowned at