Winter came early that year, though it was a mild one. Snows over the sand and rocky hills approaching the desert made the terrain treacherous. Enfri rarely ventured that far from her home under even the best of conditions, so she kept her distance. She remembered Mother's final lesson to her.

Even in the midst of new spring, snow in the desert can cause a slow, lingering death.

With winter upon her, Enfri no longer needed to tend her garden, so she spent her time tending the people of the village. Whether they remembered her name or not, they needed their sky woman. When need arose, they would vaguely recall that they could go to the house at the end of the western road to find a cure for their ailments.

The sky woman of Sandharbor became a specter in their minds. The villagers rarely if ever spoke of her, but they knew that she was there. The elders distantly remembered brilliant Janwyn and her beautiful daughter Mierwyn, once called the jewel of Sandharbor. They still toasted to the name and memory of Yora, Hero of the Siege of Drok Moran. Anything else was smoke in the mist. Deebee's ward kept anything from after Yora's death from staying long in their thoughts.

They could remember the tradition of having a sky woman, but her name and face was lost to them.

Four babies were delivered during the winter months, and Enfri was delighted that all made it through their first weeks. Goodwife Thatcher even promised to name her new daughter for Enfri— swore by the winds that it would be so. It came as no surprise and only a mild disappointment when the girl was named Thalys instead by week's end.

The following spring brought hard times to Sandharbor. A sickness spread through the village, an epidemic of the golden flu. Enfri relocated into the village itself for a time. Her administrations saved many lives, though there was no shortage of newly dug graves.

Despite the horror of that time, Enfri couldn't help but feel her spirit soar. There, in the center of it all and among the villagers, there were days that she hardly needed to reintroduce herself. Several people came to know her on sight, even though it had been a day or two since they'd last seen her.

It wasn't to last. As soon as the epidemic was beaten, and the village's immediate need of her had passed, Enfri could see the signs of the ward again. People would blink when they saw her. Her name was slow in arriving on their tongues. Before long, the people that once toasted to her health in the inn saw her as a stranger and asked if she was newly arrived to Sandharbor. Enfri soon returned to her home on the desert's edge and cried herself to sleep.

Deebee came to her that night and sang her songs of Shan Alee. The dragon told her stories of when Enfri's father was young and the world hadn't seemed such a cruel place. Deebee encouraged Enfri to take heart that many would live because of what she had done. Though the villagers couldn't remember, there was one who knew all Enfri did, and she was proud beyond words.

Worst was that summer. Enfri went into the town to purchase food and supplies. She knew every face. She knew their names and who they held dear. Everything they were, she was privy to. Enfri loved them fiercely, had labored and toiled on their behalf, but they did not know her.

It was like stepping into a storybook. Every character and deed was known to her in exacting detail, but in the end, she was not a part of it. She was nothing more than an observer.

It was during that trip to Sandharbor that Enfri heard the news. The Smith family's eldest son was to be married to the cooper's daughter. Other intentions forgotten, Haythe was betrothed to someone else.

That evening, Deebee asked again if Enfri would rather the spell be broken, and again, Enfri refused. She realized the necessity of this sacrifice. If she said that it never grieved her, she'd have been lying, but it kept her safe from the king's assassins. Fear kept the ward in place, and Enfri also feared a time that she wouldn't be strong enough to deny Deebee's offer to break the ward.

Autumn came with a few visitors to Enfri's home. They sought remedies from chills and coughs. Enfri tried to keep abreast of the happenings of the village, but soon grew tired of the effort. She felt detached at times, but would soon try to learn everything at once in a desperate attempt to reconnect. It was a confusing state to be in.

Another year passed. Life continued, and Enfri felt privileged to welcome Haythe's first child into the world. A strong boy, like his father and grandfather were. Enfri watched the new parents and their son, and she felt a distant pang of longing. Had things been different, this could have been her place. She cast the notion aside.

The year went on, and another came. Then another. It was more than four years since the day Enfri learned of the dragon-cast spell on her. She was eighteen and near full-grown, and though she was often lonely— particularly when Deebee was away on whatever quests called to tiny dragons— she was content. Enfri had accepted her place on the desert's edge, part and apart from the world. The last sky woman of Sandharbor.

Summer this year was brutal. Sandharbor was suffering under a drought and heat wave. The crops were beginning to show signs of wither, and the farmers beseeched the winds for relief.

On the desert's edge, Enfri felt the effects more keenly than most. She overturned her bucket of water carried from the pond— noticeably shallower than the previous year— into the water channel in her garden. So far, she had managed to keep her herbs alive, but the tomatoes were a lost cause.

Enfri put a hand to her back and groaned. Hauling water wasn't doing her any favors. She took a moment to adjust the straps of her brace.

The brace was of her own invention. She came up with the idea while reading one of Grandmother's notebooks on the growth of bones in young children. She drew up plans for metal and leather bands that could be secured around her back to coax her spine into the proper shape. Haythe had agreed to construct the device as payment for Enfri delivering his second child. Enfri felt justified in visiting daily to make sure he didn't forget.

Enfri had worn the brace diligently every day for the last year and a half, and she was starting to see results. The corrections were coming more slowly now that she was almost full-grown, but they were coming. Perhaps in another year or two, she'd have no more need of it.

Visitors still mistook her for an old woman at a distance, but not nearly as often as before. In fact, she was more frequently mistaken to be her mother than her grandmother. Even Deebee admitted that there was a strong resemblance, though the dragon insisted that Enfri was much prettier than Mierwyn had ever been.

"It's in the lower half of your face," Deebee had said. "You smile more, and it shows. You have your father's mouth, as well, and he had lovely lips."

Blustering lizard probably didn't realize what she was saying. Lips? Of all the things to fixate on.

Enfri believed that were it not for Deebee, she'd have much less cause to smile. She was often the only thing keeping Enfri from giving in to despair.

That the ward— and the consequences of it— began with Deebee wasn't lost on Enfri. However, she refused to let herself feel any bitterness towards her guardian over it. She was alive and free of the king because of what Deebee did, and she would never forget that. The only thing that chafed was that it had been kept secret. Enfri was slower to turn a blind eye towards that. She and Deebee agreed to a strict policy of forthright honesty. No more secrets.

Enfri hauled back another few buckets of water for the animals. She had slaughtered the pigs the previous year, and their pen was now home to a pair of lethargic alpacas; Enfri had plans for their soft wool. The old milk cow hadn't lived through the last winter, and Enfri used one of the gold marks from Goodwife Smith to purchase a new one. There was a new generation of chickens in the coop, but the geese were another matter entirely. Their pure belligerence must have made them immortal.

The shadows were beginning to lengthen, and Enfri had one last task to complete for the day. Word among the village was that scale lions were prowling closer to settled areas. Enfri had no desire to come face to face with one of those beasts, so she had begun to tend to the clusters of scalethorn surrounding her home.

Scalethorn was a harsh plant. It was tough and woody, covered with cruel thorns, and had a pungent scent that reminded Enfri of the tar pit east of Sandharbor. It was the scent that drove the scale lions away. The desert reptiles couldn't stand being within a mile of it. For Enfri, however, the worst part was the sap. The sap stained her hands black whenever she tended to the scalethorn patches, and if it ever got onto her clothes, she'd need to spend hours scrubbing them clean in the stream.

As she walked home, Enfri rubbed her palms together. The black sap was stubbornly clinging to her skin. She was fixated on the mess on her hands, so she was caught unawares by the wolf she nearly stepped on.

Enfri leapt back and cried out in surprise and fear. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she settled herself and addressed the silver-furred wolf. Though shocked out of her wits, she felt herself smiling.

"Deebee, I've half a mind to think you're trying to frighten me to death."

The wolf's tongue hung out of her mouth as she panted, a satisfied look about her. "You've never seen me as a wolf," she said. "I wanted an honest reaction. How do I look?"

"Prettiest wolf I've ever seen."

Deebee seemed pleased and promptly became her regular form again. She flapped into the air and alighted on Enfri's shoulder. Now that Enfri was grown enough, Deebee chose to ride there often.

"It's good to see you again," Deebee said. "I'm sorry I was gone so long this time. You weren't too lonely, were you?"

"I've been keeping busy," Enfri assured her. "See anything new?"

"I should say so. My dreams led me south, across the sea to the frozen lands."

Enfri altered her path to take her to the stream. She'd need running water to get her hands clean. "So far away? I don't remember you ever saying you've gone across the sea before."

"That's because I haven't. This was my first time. I dreamt of vast plains of snow and ice, of the moon and wolves. Always, I dreamt of wolves. The frozen lands are plain lousy with wolves."

"And, what did you find there?" Enfri asked. She knelt on the stream's bank and dipped her hands in. "Besides wolves, of course."

Deebee hopped from Enfri's shoulder and dived into the water. She splashed about playfully while Enfri scrubbed off the scalethorn sap. "I found another dragon."

"You did?" Enfri cried. "Deebee, that's wonderful. You must be beside yourself."

Deebee had found several other dragons over the years, but not so many that each one wasn't an event to be celebrated. The mighty were now a scattered people, few and far between. They usually kept to the remote places of the world, far from humans and civilization. Deebee was an outlier in that regard.

"What was this dragon like?" Enfri asked.

"Oh, she was glorious. Of an age with myself, hatched after the fall of Shan Alee but before the oldest of us withdrew from the world. She's a red, fierce and brave. The reds were the warriors for the mighty, you know."

Enfri had most of the sap cleaned off of her hands. She grabbed a handful of sand from the stream bed to scour the last of it away. "I didn't. A dragon's color shows their profession?"

Deebee hesitated before answering. "Well, not exactly. Our color is like... Oh, I'm not sure how to explain it."

"Like dog breeds?"

"Bite your tongue," Deebee rebuked her. "Or... yes, more or less. Reds were... bred, if you must, to be strong and fearless. Silvers like myself are better suited for scholarly pursuits."

"And your new friend, was she a fierce, little dragon?"

Deebee looked sidelong at Enfri. "I am precisely as large as I need to be. But no, Kimpo wasn't in her natural form when I found her. She had taken to running with the wolves of the frozen lands, the reason for my dreams. The Southrons, the humans who live there, tell tales of a great, red wolf lording over the wilds. Kimpo lives as one of them, and she's the alpha of her pack."

"You sound like you admire her," Enfri observed.

"I do. You'd have loved her. Did you know that wolves are much more intelligent than humans think? Kimpo speaks with them as easily as I do with you. She was kind enough to teach me their ways. We spent days running through the wilds, hunting aurochs and reindeer. I've never enjoyed hunting so much as I did with Kimpo's pack."

Enfri finished cleaning up, and let Deebee back on her shoulder. As she walked the rest of the way home, she listened to Deebee prattle on and on about her adventures with Kimpo the Huntress.

It had been a long time since Enfri heard Deebee so enamored. She had returned with stories of dragons before, but never spoke of them at such length and with such enthusiasm.

Enfri had to stifle her laughter as she entered her home. Deebee was behaving like a farm girl who had just been danced with at a festival.

"What brought you back?" Enfri asked. "I could have managed on my own a bit longer."

Deebee leapt from Enfri's shoulder to the shelf above the hearth. Her claws scratched against the wood anxiously. "I started to dream of you. That happens when I'm away too long. Dreams like that make me think you're feeling lonely."

Enfri started to deny it, but Deebee cut her off.

"You say you aren't, but I can't shake the feeling once it settles in. Finding other dragons is important, to me and the world, but I gave an oath to Yora. You're my main concern, now and forever."

Enfri brought her face close to Deebee and let the dragon touch her snout to Enfri's forehead. "Sometimes I wish you needed to be a little bigger. Then I would hug you until you broke."

Deebee pulled back, her expression startled. "Winds, what a thing to say."

Enfri smiled and bent to light the hearth. "I still have some smoked pork. Should I make dinner for two?"

"I am hungry, but you should know by now that a dragon must hunt for her own food."

One of these days, Enfri would convince Deebee to accept some hospitality. She would make extra pork stew in any case. If nothing else, it could be Enfri's lunch the next day.

Deebee stayed with Enfri while she put ingredients in her pot. Once the stew was covered and over the fire, Deebee gave a brief farewell before taking off through the window. Enfri watched the dragon change into a wolf and disappear into the trees.

If the dragon was hoping to catch anything larger than a rabbit, Enfri feared she would be disappointed. Deer didn't come this close to the desert anymore because of scale lions.

The scent of her stew began to fill the room, and Enfri felt her stomach growl. She took off her dress and unbuckled the straps of her brace; removing it was often the highlight of Enfri's day. The sound she made when the brace came off was something between a pained groan and a sigh of relief.

She changed into a new shift and put her nightdress on over it. Enfri marveled at her newfound range of motion. In the last few weeks, she'd noticed she was now able to lift her arms above her head. She stumbled far less, and sometimes she could sit straight in a chair without getting breathless from pain and exertion.

There was still a noticeable hump in her back, and she was at least a half-foot shorter than she should be. Nonetheless, Enfri was pleased with her progress. If things continued as they were, she had plans of stealing into the village during the next festival and try out this dancing she'd always heard of.

Enfri had begun fantasizing about that day. A mysterious girl that no one knew, but somehow seemed familiar, would appear unannounced. The village boys would gawk at her blonde hair. Enfri would call them by name when they approached to introduce themselves and ask her to dance, and then laugh to herself at their amazement.

None of them would be Haythe, of course, but Sandharbor didn't have a shortage of handsome, unmarried men. There were more than a few that caught Enfri's eye. Goodman Butcher was fifteen years her senior, though he hardly looked a day over twenty. Each of the Tanner boys were kind and good-hearted, if not exactly the prettiest of the lot. The forester's apprentice, with skin as dark as rosewood and possessing a deep northern accent, was perhaps the most breathtakingly beautiful man Enfri had ever seen. Enfri imagined she would accept an offer to dance from any one of them in a heartbeat.

Perhaps she might make enough of an impression that she'd stick in one of their minds. One would appear the next day on the threshold of Enfri's home for a purpose other than a remedy. Enfri didn't know how likely it was, but she dreamt of it. If a love was strong, perhaps it could overcome a dragon-cast spell.

Winds, what would being married be like? Enfri wondered. Would her husband be in danger of infidelity simply because he couldn't remember he was married? A distressing thought. Then again, he may come home at the end of the day and look at Enfri as if seeing her for the first time. She would see the memories of their life together flood back into him each evening. Every night a honeymoon.

Enfri sighed wistfully and felt her cheeks heat up.

Her daydreaming was interrupted by the clatter of hooves coming up the road. Whoever it was approached at a gallop, a risky thing to do in the early evening. Either the horse was sure-footed, or something pressing was driving the rider to make haste.

She didn't feel equal to tending to anyone tonight, but there was nothing to be done about it. The nightdress came off and one suitable for visitors replaced it. Enfri grunted in vexation as she put up her hair and wrapped a shawl over it. She went to the door and opened it as her visitor finished hitching their horse.

"Welcome," Enfri said in as pleasant a voice she could. "Have you come seeking a sky woman?"

"I have," the rider said as she turned. Clad in black. Armed with a single sword. Milky pale skin. Unnatural eyes. Jin the assassin strode up to Enfri's door.

Every muscle in Enfri's body tensed. A sensation like ice in the bloodstream filled her. It was terror. Stark, frozen terror.

Jin came to a stop a pace from Enfri's door. Her stance was wide, one foot a little ahead of the other, her knees bent slightly. Similar to a predator ready to pounce on an unsuspecting goat. Her face was expressionless. Calculating. Cold.

The assassin was only slightly different from what Enfri remembered of her. She was taller now, at least a foot higher than Enfri. Her figure had filled out considerably, and her arms appeared even stronger than before.

Enfri had never seen a woman her equal. The ladies of Sandharbor were simple village girls, craftswomen, and goodwives. Even Teela Smith, the soldier, was slight in comparison.

She's like a tiger next to house cats, Enfri thought. And she's meant to kill me.

The king feared Aleesh and wished them all dead. His assassins slaughtered the race of Shan Alee wherever they found it, and now one of them was here.

"Nothing specific," Jin said.

Enfri blinked. She had no notion of what Jin meant by that. What specific? Had Enfri asked her something? Winds, woman. Make sense if you mean to kill me!

Jin reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out some silver and gold marks. "Poultices, tonics, and bandages if you have them. Willowbark would be welcome; I often get headaches in the morning."

Enfri nearly fell over and felt able to breathe again. Of course Jin wasn't here for Enfri specifically. The ward made it so that no one could remember her. That still begged the question of why Jin was back in Sandharbor. Perhaps more poison ore had arrived from Nadia, and Goodman Smith sent word to the capital.

"Of... Of course," Enfri stammered. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, but Enfri stepped to the side and held her arm out for Jin to enter her home. "Please, come in. I have a stew on the fire, if you'd like to join me for dinner."

Jin nodded in acceptance and stepped past her. As she entered, she removed her scabbard from her belt and leaned it against the door frame— a gesture of her accepting guest-rights. It symbolized a guest's willingness to defend the home of their host. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Jin took a seat at Enfri's table. The assassin's eyes followed her while Enfri gathered a range of common remedies and supplies together. A small trace of a smile touched her lips.

"It's an honor to meet you again, Enfri."