Bandor and Ezil returned to the seating area, cradling three large pewter tankards. As they set them down on the table, Shale saw they were overflowing with thick white foam.

She lifted the nearest tankard and sniffed at it. "How did some poor soul manage to milk a dragon?"

Bandor almost choked on his next swallow.

"Ignore that idiot," Ezil said, shooting her brother a glare. "Dragon's milk is just the name for the liquid extracted from the dracarnus seeds, after it is diluted by kinawater. The name is based on the after effects. Try some and you'll see what I mean."

Seeing no reason to distrust her friend now, Shale tried a sip. What she experienced was a paradox. The dragon's milk was somehow as warm as tea and as cool as ocean water at the same time. The texture was a mixture of foam and liquid, like how a small child might imagine drinking a raincloud to feel. The foam was hot and tasted of cream, where as the liquid was cold and tasted of lemon honey.

It warmed her throat and settled in her stomach as a pleasant heat. It took another minute for the warmth to spread throughout her body, crackling all the way to her fingers and toes.

She blinked.

"Well, what do you think?" Ezil enquired.

"What do I think? I think this is just about the best thing I ever tasted." She pressed the tankard to her lips and took a longer gulp. It was sweet and so thick it managed to be filling as well.

"Just pace yourself, okay?" Ezil said. "Two or three will relax you, but any more than that will just make you drowsy. Ten tankards of this stuff could knock out a mountain giant."

She kept that in mind, savouring each and every sip, but hers was the first empty tankard to smack down on the table. Though Ezil's and Bandor's tankards joined soon afterwards.

Outside, the music of the celebrations from across the city swelled. A song that Ezil identified as The Pride of Elorona could be heard at regular intervals. Straight after the loudest rendition yet, when every minstrel in the city seemed to play in tandem, there came a huge flurry of cracks. They came one after another, causing Shale to jump.

"They're only fireworks, Mistress Shale," Karlar called.

"Fireworks?"

"Come on. I'll show you," Ezil said.

They walked to the window and opened the shutters. They were given a clear view right across the city. Everyone seemed to be concentrated into the one area now, by the docks, in their tens of thousands. Against the darkening water of the Arinoa, was the most marvellous display of colour and light. It was far more amazing than any light show the faux Magizyra had put on. Shale had never seen the like of it, the way the snaking streams of colour fizzed upward into the sky then exploded in a hundred twinkling lights.

In the middle of the event, Bandor brought over a second round of dragon's milk to the table, along with heaped bowls of fruit and trays of pastries. The pastries oozed with something brown and sticky.

"What's this?" Shale asked, turning one over.

"That is a delicacy you'll only find in the highest courts and palaces," Ezil said. "The nobility call it chocolate. Try it. It's even better if you dip it into your dragon's milk first."

Absurd as it sounded, Shale tried it, and found to her delight that it was true. The chocolate was sweet and thick as it melted on her tongue. She gorged herself on the fruit and as many of the pastries as she possibly could, before slumping back in her chair, contented with a full belly. She never thought food could be so good. It was a long way from pickled cabbage or monastery pottage.

When the firework display ended, they closed the shutters and relaxed by the hearth.

Shale revelled in the peacefulness of it. After so long at sea, it was nice to be back on land, cosy and surrounded by friends. Life had never been so good.

As the hours passed by and the light between the shutters began to dim, there was no sign of halting in the music or parties. If anything, they only became louder, as if to spite the night.

But for Shale, the day felt like it was drawing to a close. Her eyelids were growing quite heavy. Perhaps the dragon's milk was working its magic. The presence of sleep weighed heavy in her head, threatening to drag her down into its depths.

Then, she was awoken from her half sleep suddenly by the sound of pounding.

Jumping, she looked to the door. It was even louder than the fireworks, so powerful it nearly tore the hinges off. Eleven, had they come? Had the Shaedri found them?

"Ah," Daziran said with a prim smile, "That will be Yase."