Simeon didn’t look the part of the intrepid treasure hunter. For one thing, he seemed about ten years too old. He bulged a bit about the middle, and all that remained of his hair was a few long, ash-brown wisps that refused to lie flat. Furthermore, Simeon was soft. Nothing about him suggested he had hiked for three weeks through the jungles of Anarat, crawled blind through the Tulax caverns, or lived for a year on raw fish while marooned in the inland sea.

And yet Amber saw how his eyes sparkled when he spoke of his adventures, and she believed him. She could also see how a starry-eyed schoolgirl could fall for a balding, middle-aged history professor.

“I saw a shadow pass overhead, and I realized the griffin was coming back! I’d studied griffins in Robair. I knew that if it found me in its nest it would either eat me or – more likely – just pick me up and toss me off the side of the mountain.

“So I did the only thing I could think of. I buried myself in the thing’s bone pile.

“Of course it wasn’t just bones—it was everything. All the leftover bits and pieces of cows and horses and whatever else the griffin had been eating—all of it sitting on the edge of the nest in a pile taller than I was. I held my breath, dug in, and kept on digging until I couldn’t feel the sun on my back any more.

“I must have spent half the day there, breathing through my mouth and peering out through the gaps in the bones and rotting meat. I kept waiting for the griffin to leave, but the thing just kept circling the nest like it knew something was wrong, but couldn’t quite figure out what. Then it took a little nap–Robair didn’t tell me griffins were into afternoon naps—and finally, finally flew away.”

“So did you find the sword?” asked Amber.

“The oracle was right; the sword was in the nest. I found it at the bottom of the bone pile. I guess the griffin ate the sword’s previous owner and left it with his bones and armor.”

Simeon’s story was over and it was time to hit the road again: Amber on her horse and Simeon—still technically her prisoner—on foot. They were taking the sea road south to Potor, which meant the trip would take four days instead of three, but the view from the road was magnificant. Just a hundred yards or so to the west, the ground fell away into cliffs overlooking the inland sea. Thinking of the sea reminded Amber that there was another story she needed to hear.

“You never told me what you took from them.”

“What?” Simeon started.

“The islanders of Haverness. You said you were there studying them, but you never said what you took.”

Simeon looked baffled, then defensive. Amber laughed.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” she said. “Obviously, you took something of theirs. Or else why send the beastlings after you? I doubt they care so much for their privacy that they’re willing to travel a hundred miles by boat just to see you dead. They’re after whatever you’ve got in that bag.”

Simeon sighed.

“Fine. I’ll show you.”