Anzi wasn’t used to giving orders, but that didn’t mean she lacked the ability. She was firm, cold, and gave away no uncertainty. And while she had lost all respect for the colonel upon learning the truth, she mimicked his countenance and sophistication now because if there was anyone who could exercise authority with immaculate precision, it was the colonel. She would leave no room for Isvan and his men to doubt her, not when she was the one shouldering the heavier end of the yoke.
She didn’t like Isvan. She didn’t like any of them. They were the exact opposite of what she needed, made passionate by their bitterness and acting on the suppressed, violent wrath of a generation trod on by outsider overlords. What she needed was determination and cold composure, patience and frigid logic. How could she work with men like these?
She had no choice. This was all she had. And the farther out from the Imperial City and the cradle of the Empir
The central plaza. It was a pretty sight, or must have been before it became the chipped and shattered ruin it was now. White stone blocks made up the bottom, rimmed with opalescent stones that went around it in a wide circle. In the middle of it all was a broken fountain, flowing with water but half of its upper stone tier sheared off. And that was it. Nothing else. Besides the gentle burbling from there, Anzi heard nothing else, not a whisper nor a breath. Of the hundreds gathered around the plaza and hundreds more trudging forward to join the crowd from behind, not a single person made their voice heard. It was so eerie a shiver trickled down her back. Never had she encountered such a silent crowd. There was only the distant sound of stray dogs barking, a rustling of the wind against cloth awnings set over market stalls, the rush of the waves against the sands along the far pier… “Your governor is being retired today,” Bisset annou
She didn’t see Rania again nor Isvan. There was no opportunity to sneak even a single final instruction their way before Bisset dragged her slumped body by her hair, although she did her best to try to spot them among the screaming people of the fast-scattering crowd. All chaos, all fury, all terror—it was so overwhelming even Netra’s first-ever display of dragon magic went largely missed: she let out a terrible, ear-piercing screech that rent the air and ejected a stream of white fog straight at Bisset’s back. White crystals solidified and formed over his shoulders and the back of his arm, coating the upper right half of his body and locking his neck so the couldn’t move his head. But the only thing he had done was grunt, tense, and wrench free of the ice, sending broken, sparkling shards down to the ground where they evaporated into misty plumes. And that was that. Netra tried again several more times, but he hardly seemed to notice. When she gave up
“You did great this morning,” she murmured to Netra. “I’m proud of you for not flying off the handle.” The dragonet let out a sound like a cross between a purr and a snarl before lowering her serpentine neck and sunning herself on the broad rock by the water. “I see you’re still not talking to me. Considering that I know for a fact now that you can talk, that’s hurtful.” Anzi ripped up several grass blades and tossed them in the reptile’s direction. “You talked to that piscin girl instead. So either I’m just a chump, or she’s extra special. Either way, it means you don’t like me very much, huh?” She should have known better than to try to play the pity card with Netra. Not only was she terrible at it in the first place, the dragonet had no pity to spare. She only opened one scaly lid to give Anzi a contemptuous glance then rolled away again. “Fine. But…I mean it. You and I are going to have to fig
Anzi! She pushed out all of Kai’s emotions. She couldn’t handle them. Too intense, too heavy, too much. The way his mind tried to swamp hers the instant she stepped into his mind—she wasn’t going to deal with it. Anzi, what’s happened to you? Why are you- “Hurt? Because that’s part of my job. If you keep asking me why I’m hurt every time you see me, I’m going to start wondering if you know what a soldier actually does.” Don’t do this now, he snapped, startling her. He sounded terrible. She didn’t know how an inner voice could sound as fatigued as a physical one—but no, it wasn’t mere fatigue. It was rough and hollow like a boulder chiseled out from the inside, full of crags and brittle spikes. I’m coming to you. And you won’t stop me this time. I’m coming for you. “Careful, sounds like a threat,” she said, light and sardonic. Could she calm hi
The entire way back up to her room, all Anzi could think about was what Kai would do if he appeared this very second. She didn’t know why. She was still jarred by what he had done to her last night, and her skin crawled at the memory of being trapped under the strength of his presence. She didn’t know if she would have died if he’d held on any longer, but it had certainly felt that way. Even now, her heartbeat quickened, and her pulse throbbed in her neck with remembered fear. Maybe he hadn’t meant to, but the damage was done. She couldn’t even fall asleep again lest she accidentally transport herself to him and end up imprisoned once more. So why was she still thinking about him now? If she could drive a hammer into her skull to knock out her wandering thoughts, she would. She’d promised herself she would stay away from him no matter what, regardless of the suspicion she had that he hadn’t been in his right mind when it had happened. If anythi
Was-Serqet was her name. This time, it wasn’t a whisper of a suggestion from an unknowable, outside force. The name came from inside her, welling up like a spring breaking through the earth for the first time to bubble out in a stream flowing downhill. It was there, it was alive, it had power. Snakebite-quick. Strength. Resilience. This was Was-Serqet. From her bed, Anzi watched as Netra raised her spines and crept around the new hatchling on the floor. Serqet followed her progress, turning in place with slow shuffles as her wide claws clicked against the wood. Dark red, compact, covered in segmented armor from behind the frill all the way down her flanks and rump. An also-segmented tail that unmistakably resembled a scorpion’s, right down to the coiled curl and what could only be the nub of a growing stinger at its tip. It twitched and hovered over her back, staying pointed at Netra as the latter circled the younger dragon with a gro
He shouldn’t be here. Not so soon. Oscar had told her only this past evening that the chieftain was still a day’s flight out. Then again, he had also admitted to the general ignorance surrounding the average flight speed of a dragon, so perhaps she should have been prepared well ahead of time. Because that was Anzi’s most pressing problem. Unreadiness. Unreadiness for the shadow of terror washing through her and the lightning-hot thrill that ran over the entirety of her body like a wave of static at the same time. Unreadiness for both the simmering, fast-rising anger that made her clench her fists, and the sheer, inexplicable relief of seeing him standing in front of her unharmed all at once. She wasn’t ready at all. She had thought she would have more time. “Anzi,” he said. “I’m sorry.” Under the light of the flickering torches along the hallway outside, his dark, shaggy hair seemed to glow with a yellow-orange hal
How to explain what she knew? How to convince him her information was good? How to make him see that bringing the dragons here had been a terrible idea no matter what his reasons? Anzi was still scrambling to put together proper responses for when he inevitably demanded answers and explanations. She didn’t want to give everything away, a conditioned cautiousness that she saw no reason to do away with, but in order to persuade him to go along with her wild plans, Kai needed at least some justification to cling to. But he said nothing. The silence stretched on as she waited for him to explode in either anger, outrage, or fear, but all he did was stare at her with a—what was that, a secretive expression? Slowly, her hackles rose as her gaze turned from stern to suspicious, and it wasn’t long before she pieced together what he wasn’t saying. “You know already,” she said. “You knew before I told you. You know that Tet’s going to do somethi