The healers were inadequate, making excuses that her injuries were too extensive and greivous for her to get up and move around on her own. They also claimed she needed to waste several more days lying in bed and doing nothing at all. And these were supposed to be the best in all the Imperial City? Pathetic. It was the only time she wished she were surrounded by those more adept in magic.
Damn them. She had expected to be back on her feet already. Experienced healers, her ass. Two more days! Two, even with her constitution, they said, and she was going to have to continue relying on others to care for Netra. Whoever was responsible for the task had not revealed themselves, nor had they brought the dragon to her. But she couldn’t be surprised. Netra was probably terrorizing them according to her ways and would scarcely tolerate being toted around by strangers. All the more reason that she needed these healers to do their job. But on the sixth morning aft
Every part of Anzi’s body still ached, but she had no regrets about remaining firmly grounded in her own body last night. After Kai told her that it was her doing and not his, she made sure to remain especially vigilant so she wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Her? Wanting to see him? If that was what he thought, then she was only too happy to prove him wrong. From now on, she would stay well away and deal with this on her own. If things became so dire that she needed his help, or that of his strange distance-healing magic, at least, she would consider compromising—but as it was, it would be suspicious if she recovered too quickly. Especially since she now knew the Emperor had instructed the physicians to delay her recovery. She could never let him discover the extent of Kai’s magic. If she were ever forced to ally with him against the Emperor, she needed his advantages to remain a surprise. Tet was strong, stronger than she was. She needed every ad
She had talked. When was anyone going to tell Anzi that not only did dragons speak, but they could also barge into someone’s mind to do so? She had thought before that a rider and their dragon must be able to communicate, but she hadn’t dwelled on it ever since learning the Premier enslaved dragons rather than truly bonding with them. Speech! Real speech! Bastien had said nothing about this. Or maybe it was just Netra who was special? She was more clever than full-grown humans by half even though she was still so small. That must be it. Or maybe it was something else entirely. What was it the Emperor had asked her about the wyrm, again…? Whether she had communicated with it. Her heart fluttered as she stared up at the ceiling with the hatchling splayed out next to her, not quite touching but close enough that she could feel each breath Netra took. She’d spoken. She’d spoken in her mind, clearly, unmistakabl
Netra remained sound asleep as Anzi carried her in her arms down to the palace courtyard. A fortunate thing, since she typically screeched at disturbances that dared wake her from her post-gorge slumber. And doubly lucky since Anzi had yet to find a way to keep Netra from speaking. Better for her to sleep and remain silent while Bisset was around. The man was waiting for her on top of his dragon when she arrived. As she crossed over the grass, the enormous creature extended her wing and blanketed the ground with a rumbling, leathery sound. The clacking of heavy scales made Anzi’s hair stand on end, and although she never slowed her stride, her gaze fell away from the colonel’s stern face to land on the dragon’s head. What a truly massive leviathan. Her twenty-meter body lay flat on the grass, but the relaxed stance did nothing to make the dragoness look any smaller. The dark blue, white-rimmed scales were each larger than her hand, an
Before departing, Anzi had changed into lightweight desert garb in anticipation of boiling heat, but the sunlight that streamed down over her was more comforting than hot. It had been a long time since she had last trekked this far into the desert, although this wasn’t anywhere near the true deep sands at all. They’d gone no more than twenty kilometers, roughly, and the stallion was still trotting comfortably over the dunes with no signs of tiring. Large, fanned ears flicked this way and that, and over Anzi’s head, the creature’s long, tufted tail did the same, providing both of them shade. Captain Gorien had been telling the truth. This stallion was a remarkable specimen. Well-trained, intelligent, strong, and possessing even greater stamina than its kind typically had. Anzi was sure they could go another twenty kilometers before they had to stop for a rest, and that only because of her own limitations, not the sand horse’s. At least
Anzi lasted all of three more hours before her spite-fired endurance ran out. Searching for dangerous serpents in the Adaraat’s sands with not a hint of a scale or tail was fast becoming torturous. She wanted to go back. Netra would definitely be awake now, and she would be hungry. Anzi had already guessed Bisset wouldn’t lift a finger to feed her and had asked the guard on duty to tend to her instead, but she dreaded to think what the colonel might do if the hatchling irritated him with her insistent screeching in the meantime. Or spoke. She should go back, but she hadn’t decided whether to report the encounter with the old witch crone in her head along with what she had learned from it. Should she? But if she did, that would be one more reason for Bisset and everyone else to keep an even closer eye on her. She didn’t want to attract more attention. She needed to fade. But if she didn’t report the incident, she had no excuse to return to the outpost ea
Netra was furious for a week. She ate well enough, but every time Anzi reached over to pick debris between her scales or examine her claws for chips, she snapped at her, teeth clacking furiously and head twitching this way and that like an angry bird. There was no soothing the young dragon and even when Anzi and Bisset arrived on the back of the colonel’s dragon outside the city of Lumenera, Netra was still refusing anything but the most necessary of handling. There was no way for Anzi to explain why she had had to leave without warning for the desert expedition. It was one of the few times she wished the hatchling would communicate again despite the risk of alerting the colonel. She and Bisset stood at the front gates of the city before a small retinue of men who had come to receive them, mostly soldiers wearing the colors of Lumeneran scarlet. The elderly man at their head wore military garb as well, making her narrow her eyes in skeptical question. T
Anzi had the distinct feeling she wasn’t supposed to be here, but she hadn’t been about to reject an explicit invitation from the man who’d just told her that her traveling companion had been personally responsible for the death of his entire family. Colonel Bisset could discipline her later all he liked, but she was not going to look Governor Hosef in the eye and pretend her suffering would be greater than his had been. She couldn’t begin to imagine. She had never been close to her family, partly because she’d left them at a young age and partly because she had fostered that distance herself in her determination to follow what she’d thought was her destined path. But this…She didn’t need to have experienced fellowship in pain to sympathize. And blame. This was the kind of carnage the Empire wrought, the kind that no one spoke about back in the Capital because everyone was taught that the annexed lands all held hands and danced around in a ring together
“Stop squirming, Netra.” Netra, of course, didn’t listen. With a furious clicking of her talons and a raising of her spines, she fought her way out of Anzi’s grip and leaped to the ground, leaving the soldier rubbing her scraped chin. The dragon immediately trotted off to inspect the market stalls, tail swishing behind her like a cat’s. “Those things need a trim,” Anzi muttered. “And you need to stop eating. Gods, you’re fatter than a palace pet.” She was. It had been adorable at first, and Anzi had been powerless to resist over-feeding her whenever the dragon screeched and wailed for more (what if she really was starving?). But the gluttonous habits were clearly too much. Instead of walking, the reptile wobbled and waddled on her clawed feet, belly hanging down between her legs with an almost comedic curve. But she was longer, too, and stood taller at the shoulders. Anzi had been toting her around in her a
She was exhausted but unable to sleep as Ash transported her and Kai back to camp. Qing had implored him not to go, but there was no dissuading him now that his men were stable and those who could be saved had been saved. After all, those were his men back at camp, too, the ones who had had to remain behind. No one said a thing as the Oasis slithered through the sands. Kai, despite how exhausted he must be and fearing for his defenseless men on top of that, took Anzi to the spring and bathed her gently. Her wounds refused to close, and even when he slid his hands over them to try to impart healing power through their mate bond, they remained angry and red and gushed blood anew anytime she shifted too much. “It’ll be all right,” he murmured as he kissed her wounds while she sat numbly in the water. “We’ll be there soon.” Soon wasn’t enough. Night was already falling, and it had been that long since she heard Netra’s
Was there nothing else she could do? Nothing at all? Anzi took a deep and angled slash to her midriff that tore the tattered remains of her uniform almost completely in two while at the same time, beheading Benhad at last in exchange, and yet it wasn’t triumph she felt but stunned disbelief. She had thrown her faith into Ash’s words because she had no choice but to fight on anyway, but here that faith proved futile as ever. Five newcomer dragons in the fight, some of them rivaling Kai’s generals in size, and the five First Guards riding atop them as well. Outnumbered, outpowered, fighting like this would mean everyone died. No path to victory, no opening, no vulnerability to exploit. And for every one she might find if she looked hard enough, the shifter tribe had a dozen more. Please, she begged the gods, the spirits, even herself. The fate and destiny Ash insisted would meet her here, where were they? Please, let there be something I can do, she screa
Anzi had no time for a poetic entry into battle. She had no time for battle either while she was at it and hoped desperately she could be more assassin instead, striking at vulnerable heart and tearing apart the enemy before they could fight back and resist. But that was impossible. She was faster than any ordinary man, stronger and more agile even in this battered state she’d earned from the night of the great battle, but these men were riders too. First Guards, men of the Premier just like her. Of course she never made it to a killing stroke on the first try and in the first moments of what could only end in the bloodiest ways. “Get her down!” Benhad shouted from her right, so she went to the left with deadly slices of her sword, aiming for whatever part of the closest man she could reach. When she found only air, she didn’t stop: she pressed on, dashing after her target who backed up into his motionless dragon as he drew his own weapon. She had to br
Please, take him back, she begged as she struggled to keep her face stone-solemn and unaffected. It’s not too late. Ash, you know what the plan was. Take him back! All of them! This was the plan all along, and it’s time you learn to put your faith in fate. This is your destiny. Not just yours, but everyone’s, and you have to rise to meet it. This is what you were born into the world to do, to be. If you believe nothing else, then believe in that. What do you mean, this was the plan? Ash! Last night when you begged me to lie to Kaizat, did you think I’d done it? I didn’t. What I told him was to trust me just as I’m telling you to trust me now, and he did. Do you know it? I’ve guided the half-dragons since before he was born, for the last two hundred years since they dispersed and wandered and gathered together at last, one by one. I was there when their grandfathers’ grandfathe
“It’s impossible.” “Obviously, it’s not,” Anzi snarled, and she shoved Ash’s shoulder in a vain attempt to send her away. But the old woman only stumbled to the side and continued staring into the distance at the unmistakable shape of dragons in flight. “Go! Do you realize what they’ll do if they catch you with me? They’ll drag you along no matter what I say!” “This makes no sense. There’s not a Druid among them. They can’t sense you. Can’t sense us.” “If you had listened to me—” No. This wasn’t the time to argue. It would solve nothing. Ash was here and they would take her prisoner if she didn’t get away in time, assuming they hadn’t seen her yet from the sky, but worse, they were too close. Too close! It hadn’t been but a few hours since they had left Kai’s camp, and a dragon in flight could cross the distance they’d traveled in a tenth of that time. She knew better than to hope Bisset wasn’t among them, too, and
“You’re running away. I never thought you could be so timid.” “It’s not about being timid. I knew he would try to stop me. Doesn’t matter what you told him, he would have changed his mind in the end and gotten in my way.” “Oho, what a chill I feel in the middle of all this heat. Tell me, how do you think he will feel when he wakes up to see you gone?” “Don’t try to guilt me.” Anzi straightened her uniform. It was in tatters, missing a forearm bracer, a shoulder guard, waist split, half of one pant leg missing. That night in the Imperial City had torn a hole or burst seams in just about everything, especially after the fight with Doufan and the collapse of the dungeon. Even the flight in Shu-Amunet’s massive claws had done their share of damage. But all the better. It would make her story of forced kidnapping more plausible. “No guilt, then,” Ash snickered. “But some regret? You must be wishing you
Anzi didn’t want to know how Ash had managed to convince him. All she knew was that Kai was in a towering mood, terrible and brooding, and she could feel it from across the camp. It was fainter here in Qinglong’s tent that had somehow become extremely crowded within the last day—Oza and Letti as well as all three of her dragons along with Rania, too—but she could sense Kai’s anger nonetheless. Something had changed between them without her even noticing, something beyond simple attraction and other mundane feelings. Maybe it had been back when he first kissed her on the bridge, or maybe it had been that day when she had sat by him, watching the healers labor to save his life before the basilisk poison could kill him. Or maybe it had been during the flight here, when she had first tasted real freedom away from the shadow of the Empire. But things were different now, and the part of her that used to be afraid of defining those very changes—wasn’t so afrai
Her leg ached, badly, even though Anzi had done nothing at all to strain it. Her only labor since morning after leaving Ash’s dominion was to perform the crudest half-surgeries known to man on a handful of Kai’s warriors, and she had been kneeling for most of that. Her body couldn’t be so weak, could it? Or was she imagining it all because of the fatigue and the haunting sensations of feeling warm flesh pull apart under her fingers as she searched for poison no one else could touch? What was this strange new world she had plummeted into with no preparation, no wisdom, nothing at all? No—she had Kai, who pulled her close and kissed her on the brow before letting her go so she could walk to meet Ash. She had Letti and Oza here in the camp on the other end of it, safe and sound. Netra and Serqet were here too, thank to Kai’s tribesmen who had brought them here instead of abandoning them. Had Anzi remembered to thank anyone for that? Maybe she didn’t have t
Five. There were five others who had been infected out of the roughly dozen and a half who made up Kai’s warrior troupe, and of them, only one had begun to show signs of the living poison that had burrowed into their veins. It was a grueling three hours of inspection and labor, far more difficult than it had been with Masal because these slivers were so much smaller and that much harder to see. Anzi had checked and rechecked every man, woman, and beast in the camp and Oza, too, fueled by growing paranoia and fear whenever she found the damnable silver threads hiding in their bodies. But what made it truly difficult was the exhaustion that set in. Not only when she extracted the poison through fresh, deep incisions she had been forced to make because there was no other way to draw it out, but even the expansion of her very senses to search for it in the first place. This unknown, unfamiliar power she had discovered had come with a price. It came from wit