“Tired of broiling, Your Highness?” The man spoke without looking away from the commercial harbor outside the breakwater enclosing the imperial docks. He went to the captain, trying not to wince as too-long-inactive legs tingled. Bring me something to drink,” he ordered the slaves. He yelped, swatted the fly, got to his feet, and removed the crown.

A stinging fly chose that moment to land on Kaddar’s arm. Looking about, the prince saw the captain, leaning on the rail, scowl and make the Sign against evil on his chest. Imperial dignity kept him in this unshaded chair, where a gold surface collected the sun to throw it back into his eyes. He shot a glare at the nobles and academics on hand to welcome the visitors: they could relax under the awnings. He had been waiting aboard the imperial galley since noon, wearing the panoply of his office as the day, hot for autumn, grew hotter. His Royal Highness Kaddar, prince of Siraj, duke of Yamut, count of Amar, first lord of the Imperium, heir apparent to His Most Serene Majesty Emperor Ozorne of Carthak, fanned himself and wished the Tortallans would dock. Richard McCaffery Robinson, whose timely advice regarding galleys kept me from venturing into rough waters, and who owes me a freebie or two when his own work gets into the stores. Usborne Publishing Limited of London, England, whose many reference books on classical and medieval times gave me invaluable help in visualizing Carthaki life and society Ĭraig Tenney, who introduced me to metal and hard rock

James Breheny, the head camel mahout of the Bronx Center for Wildlife Conservation, for his aid in tracking down the ills to which camels are prey (and for the knowledge that there are very few diseases to which camels are prey), even though I had to cut the camel diseases in the final draft (!) Ford Fernandez of Bird Jungle, on Bleecker Street in Manhattan, for advice on how tropical birds get sick Once again I would like to express my thanks to those people without whose expert help I would have been hard pressed to get things right: To those who took a struggling young writer, cushioned her in her early months in the Big Apple, and agreed that no idea was too crazy:

Emperor Mage by Tamora Pierce