Ordinarily, the journey from Chorus across the sea to what was now the Alaram Principality, in the centre of the Agnetavanian continent, would have taken weeks. Now, though, they had the advantage of dragon flight. Janu hadn’t expected it to be an option, but Ilarion had ways of contacting them. He called upon one of the tiny six-winged draklings to relay them a message, and the reply came barely a day later. They took a small boat out to sea, far from shore, and waited.

The waiting was the worst part. Being out at sea in something this flimsy had Janu clutching the sides, white-knuckled. When a blue-feathered dragon landed beside them an hour or so later, its waking almost capsized them. But the three of them – Heketas had remained in Chorus to drink its bars dry – managed to jump across in safety. With that, they shot above the clouds and winged towards their destination.

Dragon sightings were common enough in the northern swamps of Alaram, near the great forest, that Janu felt safe landing near the village without attracting too much attention. But he only relaxed when he had both feet on the ground, watching the dragon until its hide blended with the sky and it vanished from sight. Seeing his childhood home from the air had been unnerving, like all his memories had compressed into one singular patch of ground and shrunk.

Galnai marched over to the empty path that led to the village and looked up and down its length. ‘Is this the same witch who does the siren fruit?’ she asked.

‘Well remembered,’ Janu said. It had been a long time since their last visit, and that had been by land. They didn’t need siren fruit often, and its danger made it hellishly expensive. ‘I have a feeling we’ll need more of that for this job.’

Ilarion came up beside them with a questioning look on his face. ‘What are siren fruit?’

Exchanging a glance with Galnai, Janu said, ‘If you’d spent your time here with humans instead of dragons, you’d probably know by now.’

‘Does siren fruit even do the same to dragons?’ Galnai asked.

He shrugged and began walking down the path. ‘There are old stories about a dragon flying around with a siren tree growing out of its back, so I’d guess so, but you know how stories go. But for your benefit, Ilarion – when the fruit of a siren tree is ripe, its scent lures people in. You can’t resist it. You have to find the tree and eat the fruit. Then its seeds start growing inside you, but the fruit has drugged you, so you don’t care until it’s too late. Sometimes the first anyone else knows about it is the screams when the drug wears off.’

Ilarion’s pale skin had taken on a green tinge. ‘And we’re walking towards where those grow?’

‘Oh, they grow all over the place.’ Janu suppressed a grin. It was a rare to tell someone about siren trees for the first time. ‘But don’t worry – part of the role of a water witch is to monitor the swamp for siren trees. They don’t fruit often, and when they do she can harvest them before they begin giving off too much scent.’

‘And what do you do with the harvested fruit?’

‘You can make two powders from it. The first is the one we sometimes use – it’s like an extract of the scent. It’s good for luring people away from somewhere you don’t want them to look. Just leave the extract somewhere in range and add water, and they’ll be drawn to it like it was still growing. Less obvious than using sleeping powder. The second is just a drug, mostly used in ceremonies.’

Galnai added, ‘They’re both illegal, of course.’

‘Of course,’ Ilarion said.

They walked the rest of the way to the village in a silence broken only by their footsteps, which grew louder as the path transitioned to boardwalk over swamp water. Then the village itself emerged from between the thick tree trunks, the bright painted walls of its huts shining out from under their reed-thatched rooves. A few boats punted back and forth from the swamp, skimming beneath bunting that had been wrapped around the nearby trees.

Tepet-amad hadn’t changed much. It rarely did, beyond a few new floors being added to the existing houses with subsequent generations. Its problem, like many swamp villages, was that it only had one patch of dry land to build on, and it had exhausted the limits of that many decades ago. People preferred to build up where they could, though they had started building further out on stilts with connecting boardwalks in recent years.

When they kept walking past the bustling village centre and towards the far edge, Ilarion asked, ‘Where exactly does this woman live?’

‘She’s a water witch,’ Janu said, and pointed to a string of coloured lamps that disappeared into the swamp ahead. ‘She lives out on the water. This is the safe path to get there. Make sure you stand on the grass tussocks if you can’t see any ground.’

‘Couldn’t we have just used a boat?’

‘We don’t need it for this. Come on!’

Janu took the lead, sticking close to the lanterns and picking his steps with care. Soon enough the village was only a distant bright patch peeping between the trees, and the swamp surrounded them. Tree limbs creaked above them and to either side, and unseen birds answered them in hoots and whistles.

‘At least this is warmer than the swamps in Yerediv,’ Ilarion muttered.

He wouldn’t be so relieved if they had come here in the full sticky heat of summer, Janu was sure.

Not long later, the witch’s hut emerged from behind a tangle of reeds. It had been freshly painted a cheery orange. A teenage boy stood on a ladder out front, adding white patterns above the lintel. One of the witch’s many children, perhaps – she had too many to keep track of.

Janu called out to him, ‘Does Divya still live here?’

The boy’s head snapped round and he wobbled on his ladder, but nodded. ‘She’s out right now, but you can wait inside if you want.’

Staying clear of the ladder, they filed into the witch's hut. As soon as they did, two young women looked up from their activities – one sewing, one grinding herbs in a mortar and pestle – and directed them to take a seat at a large table. Without a word passing between them or their guests, they served them mugs of steaming tea and plates of sweet smoked fish. Three younger children, two boys and a girl, peeked out now and them from the cracked-ajar door to an adjacent room. Divya had birthed her own small army of helpers, it seemed.

Half an hour later, someone knocked their boots by the front door then stepped inside. A short woman, Divya hadn't aged much, though the crow's feet in the corners of her eyes had deepened, tugging at the swirling ochre tattoos on her face.

'All healthy,' she announced to her daughters. 'Two boys, and the second's a brawler.' Then she looked over to the table and her deep green eyes fixed on Janu. 'Is that you, Janu Mannit?'

Janu grimaced and stroked his scruffy beard, wishing he'd remembered to trim it back in Chorus. 'It is. It's good to see you again, Divya.'

She smiled, spread her arms wide and sat down on the bench opposite them. 'And always good to see one of my best customers. You really should come by more often.'

'The stuff you give me is just too good. You should water it down and it wouldn't last me so long.'

With a chuckle, she shook her head. 'So what is it you want this time, hmm? More siren fruit?'

Janu clasped his hands together on the table and leaned forwards. 'That's one part of it. The rest is... rather more involved. We need your help with something.'

'Do you now?' She raised her chin, eyes narrowed, then waved a hand. 'Go on then. Out with it.'

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He eyed her children, still scattered about the room at their various tasks. 'It might be best if only you hear it.'

'Pah! What do you take them for? Village girls? We don't gossip, unless it's among ourselves. Keep the boys away, though, go on.' With a snap of her fingers, one of the girls left to herd whatever other children might be listening at doors into more distant spaces.

Telling Divya the whole truth would be the best approach. Janu had known that coming in, but it didn't make voicing all the details any easier. He hadn't even given those to Heketas, but... well, Heketas was a drunkard he'd only just met, and he had known Divya at least in passing for years. So he told her all about the dragons, about how they could speak and think just as much as any human – or more, per Ilarion's interruption – and how they wanted to break the empire's binding of their kin. He told her about the artefact being kept in the bowels of the imperial palace and noted how her nose wrinkled at the mention of Critobulus.

'So we plan to steal it,' he said. 'But we need a way to get across the lake without being spotted either by the serpents or the guards. And then we need to cut through a grille to get into the palace itself. My first thought was of you. Can you help us?'

Divya chewed a bite of fish, mulling over Janu's words. When she finished, she said, 'It is a good thing I have taught my daughters my craft. Chorus is a long way from here.'

'Then you'll help us?' He hadn't even mentioned payment yet. Given her usual prices for siren fruit, Janu dreaded to think of it. He had no idea how many more bezin the dragons might be sitting on.

'What the empire is doing,' she said. 'It is not natural or right. Not with many things, and certainly not with the dragons. Every year they encroach more and more upon the wild spaces, just as they encroach upon the lands of people who have no wish to be their subjects. The spirits grow restless. They sense there is a change at hand, but it is too great and abstract for them to counter. It is time a little of the wild had chance to hold the empire to account. Set their dragons free and see what change they might bring with their words of fire.'

'What do you ask in return?'

'Hey.' She folded her arms across her chest. 'You think a woman like me won't take an adventure for the sake of it just because she's a couple of decades past her prime?'

Janu grinned, not fooled by her theatrics. 'I think even the youngest of us adventure for money, and you have a large family to feed.'

'Pah, they feed themselves most days.' But she leaned forwards to match Janu's posture and said, 'The siren fruit I will charge my usual for. I won't take payment for the rest of it – there are useful materials I can gather from the lake serpents that are hard to come by around here. They'll fetch me more than I would charge, at any rate.'

He breathed a sigh of relief, tension draining from his shoulders. 'That's very generous of you. I don't know how to thank you for this.'

She snorted. 'Thank me by making sure this is as interesting as you've made it out to be. Otherwise I might ask for backpay. When do you need me to leave?'

'We need to make our move by the next full moon.'

'That would be tomorrow.'

'The full moon after next, then.' Janu really should have paid attention to that before he left. A moon cycle wasn't a long wait, though. 'We can fly most of the way there on dragonback, so there's no rush.'

'Just as well. I've got one siren fruit growing, but it's not ripe enough to harvest yet. Give me ten days and I'll have it for you. You're welcome as guests here until then, and I've something you can help me with to stave off boredom.'

'What's that?' Janu asked, worried he had just been roped into re-digging latrines or something just as foul.

'If you want to breathe underwater to avoid being spotted in the lake, we'll need drakfish scales. Just from one fish, mind, but they're a bugger to catch. I reckon the three of you should manage it in a few days, though, don't you think?'

He nodded, sure that catching one fish couldn't take them that long. 'It's a deal.'

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He had forgotten all about drakfish. When they went out on the first day armed with spears and nets, all Janu had been able to tell Galnai and Ilarion was to watch for a large, whiskered fish with hide the colour of swamp water. In the first few hours they didn't see a single one. Only later, when they cut open a smaller fish they had caught to use as bait in Galnai's net, did they have their first encounter.

A fast ripple made its way along the water's surface towards the net. It never slowed, and it broke clean through the net with its prize. Galnai plunged her spear in after it, but missed. A few moments later a brown blur the length of her leg leapt out of the water, snapping at Galnai with its many sharp teeth.

Yes, he had definitely forgotten about the teeth.

They abandoned the nets after that attempt and skewered bait onto sticks to place in the water. Each time, the drakfish were too fast for them. They just darted past, taking the bait along with its stick. Ilarion managed to land a blow on two separate occasions. On the first, his spear tip just glanced off the fish's thick scales. On the second, he only succeeded in breaking off one of its whiskers. He stood a little further from the water for the next few minutes, certain it would leap back out to attack him.

The second day met with as little success as the first. As the light began to die however, Janu did notice a drakfish leap out of the water at a frog and strand itself on land several yards away. He ran to catch it, but it had propelled itself back into the water using its four short fins before he could reach it.

On the morning of the third day, he woke with that image fresh in his mind. This time when he prepared the bait, he tied it to the end of a string and held the end himself. He kept a watchful eye on the water, not wanting to miss the tell-tale ripples that would warn of a drakfish's approach.

'That's just going to slice your hands when it takes it, you realise,' said Galnai from her spot a few feet away.

Janu fixed his gaze on a set of ripples streaming towards him. 'Not if I'm faster.'

At the last moment, he pulled the bait aside onto shore. The drakfish followed, jumping sideways with its teeth clamping around the bait. Janu tugged on the string, pulling it further onto dry land. Before he could reach for his spear, Ilarion jumped over to help. He pulled his dagger from its sheathe, grabbed the flailing drakfish with his other hand and plunged the dagger into its gills.

Its tail battered the floor for a few moments, then grew still, and the angry light fled from its eyes.

Ilarion lifted his hand and inspected several new cuts and scratches from the drakfish's scales and fins.

'I'm glad we only need to catch one of these,' he said.

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The tenth day arrived, and with it the sight of Divya preparing her siren mask. It was these preparations that had woken Janu. Divya sang a little tune to herself as she rubbed scented oil into the decorated wood, which made an intricate face of paint and inlaid metals. Ilarion stepped outside to summon another drakling messenger – they would leave as soon as Divya had prepared the fruit.

As soon as Divya finished oiling the mask, she put it on and began sealing the edges where it met her skin with thick clay.

'You don't need to watch me,' she said with a dismissive wave of her hand – though how she could tell given the mask had no eye holes, Janu had no idea. 'I need to wait for this to dry before we go anywhere. Help yourself to breakfast.'

So they did. By the time they were done, Divya's clay had dried, and she beckoned them over to the door. 'You want to watch, yes?'

Galnai grimaced. 'Don't we need masks as well?'

'No, no. I'll leave you out of range.'

With some reluctance, they got up and followed her into her long boat, which she punted through the murky swamp water with unfailing confidence and apparently perfect vision. She kept going for about half an hour, following a trail of old and faded bunting through the trees. At last, she pulled up alongside a patch of dry land and motioned for them to climb out.

'The tree is just up ahead. Stay here, and you will be safe.'

Janu nodded and clambered ashore, the others just behind him. Chills prickled along his spine. Now that she had pointed it out, he could tell the siren tree apart from the rest. It stood a few hundred yards away. Its bark was blacker than the other trees, the undersides of its leaves shaded an unsettling tinge of purple. An orange speck that might have been its fruit nestled amongst a set of low-lying branches. He resisted the urge to hold his breath. If Divya said it was safe, he trusted her. At least a little.

A pair of weathered cow horns jutted from the trunk at the waterline, the only sign of the creature that had died to seed this tree.

Divya's boat inches across the swamp until it butted up against the trunk of the siren tree. From bow to stern, it barely stretched the width of the trunk. Divya hooked the boat to a rope that had been tied around the tree, then drew two poles out from the bottom of her boat. One bore a sharp, hooked saw, the other a net.

Holding the net beneath the fruit, she set to work sawing at the branch it hung on. Janu wondered what would happen if she dropped it and it split on the bow of her boat. Would they still be a safe distance away then?

Thankfully, he never had to find out. Divya cut and caught the fruit with the efficiency of someone who had done this a thousand times before, then settled back into her seat. There she retrieved the fruit from her net and set about doing something to it that Janu couldn't make out. At one point a smell like sweet strawberries and currants drifted across them and Janu took an involuntary step forwards before it disappeared. He blinked, confused for a moment, until he realised what that smell must have been.

Not long after that, Divya unhooked from the tree and punted back to them. As they were boarding, she scooped up water from the swamp to wet the clay around her mask, then prized it loose. It left a contour of clay around her face, like a tide line on a beach outcrop.

She scratched at the clay, and gestured to a clay-sealed pot with her free hand. 'The flesh of the fruit, safely stored, ready to be dried and powdered.' Now she gestured to a ball of wet clay. 'The essence of the scent, ready for you to use as soon as its coating dries.'

'What do you do with the seeds?' Janu asked.

Divya grinned and dangled a small pouch that she had tucked into her sleeve. 'I grind them and smoke them in my pipe. A cure-all, you could call it.'

Janu raised an eyebrow, but settled into his seat for the journey back to Divya's hut. They had everything – and everyone – he thought they needed now. All he had to do was hope Divya wasn't high on her own pipe smoke when it came time for the heist.