text: Nrararn and Tarcuna and I were a bit wary on our way to Perstra. First of all, we had to fly over a great expanse of more-or-less-freed Trest. Fighter planes rose up to follow us. They didn't attack — Hove has seen what becomes of fighter planes who challenge my storm-maned fiancé — but they followed, shouting our position by radio to the wary nation. They are, at best, uncertain about my benevolence towards them. I am too, actually. I seem to wind up doing something horrible every time I visit Trest.
  
  The borders of Perstra were marked by brilliant astral fountains. These fountains are only built with much effort and much pain. Kings mark their domains with them; lesser dragons content themselves with lesser marks. "Your fence is beautiful," I wrote to Ythac, because it was. "Your domain looks regal."
  
  "I am king of the dragons on Hove," he answered.
  
  "I haven't done anything like that," I said. "It doesn't seem worth the effort. Chevethna will depose me any year now."
  
  Ythac and Llredh were close enough for him to shout, "Me too. But Llredh wanted the fountains. I imagine that a former king can keep them, since they're there already."
  
  So I spent the last minute of flight telling Nrararn what we had been talking about, and Ythac did the same to Llredh.