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I shrugged. “Give them the name of Marco Sallent, and turn them loose. Without permanent damage, if possible.”

“Boring.” the dragon said.

“La Tarantula Sangre isn’t here to teach them, let them accomplish their ends without my help.”

“Oho. So there is a vicious streak within you.”

I spread my hands. “I have recently been reminded that I am emissary for Sobek on earth.”

The dragon scratched idly at a floor tile. “You realize any favors you perform for the oracle are between him, you, and your god?”

“Why would they be otherwise?” I asked.

“There is still a matter of you being attacked while under my protection.” the dragon said. “A minor attack, normally, but I understand that your devil woman... inconvenienced you.”

.....

I made a dismissive tick in the back of my throat. “At my own request, she used fire to remove a curse from me.”

“Hrm.” the dragon pondered a moment. “Very well. But you admit that you need transport to and from Hellespont Caldera?”

“You are very well informed.” I said.

“She betrayed you.” Gamilla said. “Revealed to my lord secrets even you do not know.”

The dragon adjusted its tail, and she fell silent.

“Passage for three.” the dragon repeated. “Hellespont, Girdle, and then, at the request of your Emperor, to some port named Glorious Milletus.”

“Glorius Miletus.” I said. “I’m surprised it’s a port already.”

“If the Conclave of Thorns has already destroyed the place, where do you wish to be deposited?”

I blinked. “I knew they hated me personally, but are they at war with the Empire?”

“Not that I know.” the dragon said. “But I gather that Rakkal personally crafted his response to their formal request that you be turned over to them for execution.”

I sighed. “Stupid Charisma skills.”

“Oh, there are other influences, such as status, which you are still lacking, and reputation, of which you have a good bit of the sort that is troubling.”

I broke out laughing. “This isn’t a favor! You’re trying to get rid of me before I disrupt some subtle plan or other of yours!”

The dragon’s head tilted by a few degrees. “It is too late for that, although the eventual outcome has been admittedly in my favor. Let us just say that it is in our mutual best interests to see you returned home.”

“Mutual?” I asked. “What do you know that I don’t about the situation in the Empire?”

The dragon blinked. “Miss Gamilla, the diplomatic pouches are waiting for him in his quarters?”

“Of course, sir. Shall I summarize their contents?”

“If you would, please.” the dragon said.

“The Tidelands are, quite frankly, running out of soldiers. Likewise, you’ve been hemorrhaging champions at an alarming rate, and no new heroes have arisen to the war. The centaur remain triumphant in their civil war, the potential ally of the Conclave of Thorns has been alienated, and quite frankly, sir, your Empire needs you there.”

“Due to a miscommunication,” she continued, “you have not one but two potential replacements here, both of whom currently believe you dead or trapped on the prison island. Both are, frankly, better diplomats than you.”

“There is the matter of a debt I owe to the Spiro family.” I said.

“The Tidelands embassy has brokered terms of payment.” the dragon said. “Not the best of terms, but Miss Gamilla did set you up nicely for such an incident. By the time your empire first defaults on a payment, you will be long gone.”

I almost said I didn’t understand, but I realized that I did. The Empire was in war, and war tended to drain all manner of resources.

“Don’t think of it as running.” the dragon said. “You are being repositioned to protect the core of your fledgling nation.”

Oh, even the dragon could be misinformed. Could draw incorrect conclusions.

So was it the dragon or Gamilla who thought me such a selfish poser? I still have reasons to wonder, even today.

But at the time, I was too distracted by thoughts that the Red Tide was on the verge of collapse to focus on the implied slight to my courage and integrity.

I sighed. “I admit my eagerness to be home.” I said. “And it seems that the Empire’s interest in the Shining Isles is well tended.”

“Yes.” The dragon said. “It is a matter of both of us winning. And, having a better understanding of Blacksoul’s intentions, I find myself amused enough to let her see them through. Of course, I cannot be seen to support such an endeavor, preventing more aid than just transportation.”

What the hell WERE here intentions? I knew she meant to infect Cassandra the Hangwoman, angel of the the slain god of the Manorans, with Taint.

I also knew how severely that would inconvenience a creature of pure spirit. Sure, it would be difficult to remove...

Oh.

I’d been thinking of Taint as a mortal, where the physical existence of Taint slowed its progress, aided in the ability to contain and resist it. Without those protections, spirits would have to...

“Ahem.” the dragon said.

“Yes, sorry, I am getting better at avoiding distractions, but am still prone to such.”

“I have noticed. You are still willing to leave, once fully healed? I trust that passage on the Wanton Sharkbite to the Tidelands will be sufficient?”

“The first of the winter storms cannot be far away.” I said.

“Indeed. They have already begun.” the dragon said. “But I’ll not be hosting you here over winter. I can see you to Hellespont, and to the Girdle after that. In the spring, the Sharkbite will arrive, and take you north.”

Almost three years. I would have spent three quarters of my life on this one failed mission. Still, a quick inventory of my quests...

“I have no particular reason to remain here.” I admitted. “My remaining quests are unlikely to be resolved in a timely manner.”

“Yes.” the dragon said. “I believe that time is going to be of the essence. Your nation is on the cusp of a series of decisions that will determine whether and how they survive into the future. Your... unrefined tactics, those will be more of use there than here. Both to yourself and to your precious Tidelands.”

“Then we seem to be in agreement.” I said. “We finish up Madonna’s quest, and the three of us are off to the Empire.”

“The survivors of your quest are free to go.” the dragon said. “Captaine Levemont will not be taking anyone she believes to be unwilling to make the journey.”

Well, that was food for thought.

And we spoke of other matters before the dragon dismissed me for “other matters I have agreed to commit time to”.

Still, I left with the same amount of health as when I entered the conversation, so it must have gone better than my first meeting.

And... it was finally ending.

I was going home. I hadn’t even realized how much stress that had been, the thought that maybe I had been exiled out here to the southern edge of where the Empire could reach.

And yet, I made my way to the Pit of Darkness and Blood, where Madonna spent her days in training with Uffara, a blood witch from Malosia. I wasn’t clear on exactly what a devil felt she needed to learn, but she seemed excited enough that I hadn’t questioned it.

The Pit was a natural node of Darkness; had it not been a source of Taint as well, I would have refreshed my pools. How long had it been since I shrouded myself in darkness?

I really needed to develop a mobile version of my Anti-Taint Ward.

For a time, I crouched well away from the lip of the Pit, Mystic Vision showing me the faintest tendrils of Taint, small puff-clouds of...

I hesitate to use the term “impure Taint”. Perhaps mixed Taint, or diluted Taint. Having once been on the brink of what I could contain, I was perhaps overly wary of the stuff.

Or, if you prefer, I let my fears drive me from my original course. I left the Pit and its dangers behind, without even measuring my Sin Armor against it.

“I have been waiting for you.” I said, when she appeared. She was, as she often was those days, blurry of eye and unsteady of balance.

“Please tell me you want to practice your massage skills.” she said.

“I suppose we can do that while we talk.” I said.

She was clear of her robes and lying on a table in record time.

“Oh, for the love of luxury, YES.” she said, as I carefully kneaded her with my knuckles. Don’t use fingertips with talons; even creatures like devils only like pain so much. “Ohohohoh, so what did you want to speak of, dearest husband?”

“I have concerns for after your quest reaches its conclusion.” I said.

“Why worry about that?” she asked. “It’s not like all of us will survive it.”

“But afterward, if we both survive, you are willing to join me in the Tidelands? Or do you wish to remain here?”

“What manner of idiot are you? Remain in striking distance of a religion whose angel I’ve corrupted?” Then her tone became less mocking. “You would truly take me with you? To the land you call home?”

“If you desire to come.” I said.

“Of course, yes, husband. Provided we both survive.”