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
When Anzi at last convinced Letti to leave before someone noticed she was missing, the harem girl shot the chieftain a sharp glare before stepping out through the doorway. It was an expression Anzi had never seen before, like she was a breath away from running right past her and clawing Kai in the face. Not even when she had been slapped by Noemi in the street—twice—had she looked so vindictive. One final encouraging push and shutting of the door later, Anzi and Kai were alone again. That is, save for Netra, who was now sulking in the corner, and Serqet, who was flipped over onto her armored back on the floor close by, tiny legs wheeling as she struggled to right herself. “Netra! Do that to her again, and I will swing you around by your tail! Understand?” Anzi hurried over to pick the hatchling up while Netra hissed at her from the wall. “Don’t talk back to me!” The dragonet lay her head down, still glaring.
Netra didn’t like crowds. She barely tolerated company. So with the presence of the four strange men in the room, it was a miracle she hadn’t yet leaped out at them and left her claws in their bare chests. Anzi kept her eyes glued to the dragonet whose spines were already raised and bristling with undisguised hostility. And since when had her teeth become so jagged? There had been a few strewn about here and there over the past several weeks, but Anzi hadn’t noticed the new ones growing in. They looked too big for her maw and certainly big enough to sink and crush bone, too. She gave her a baleful glare, a wordless warning to behave, and was answered with a rebellious, wider display of those fierce dragon teeth. Was this what it was like to take care of a child? Constant disobedience and attitude? She would never have any of her own, she swore it. Then again, it was too late. Netra was all but her child anyway. “I really have to order you to leave,” she
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