Oh, hell.
Anzi stood utterly still as the dragon drew close, ridged upper lip curling in the beginning of a snarl. It was dark with only the standing torches lining the stone walkway to lend their weak light, but the blood red hue of the massive dragon was no less intimidating for it. Wild dragon, indeed. She could sense savagery, strength, hardened brutality. A truly fearsome creature, born and raised according to its birthright, not like the ones of the Empire. She remained motionless even when the dragon lowered his head and came so close the small ridged horn curving up from the tip of its snout almost brushed her face. Hot breaths puffed out in clouds of steam that carried away on the stiff winter breeze. No frill to speak of, but even without it, the dragon’s head was terrifically large as it glared down at her, orange eyes flashing.
“You’re not afraid.”
She didn’t turn to look at Kai. “I can move before he go
Sparring was agonizing thanks to her hobbling leg and the occasional ripping spasms that made her grit her teeth against the crippling pain that flooded her from thigh to foot, but she wasn’t going to show weakness. Pierro’s growing smirk as the minutes slipped past was already making her want to murder him, and he was probably one stumble away from taunting her again, his favorite pastime. She had to stop caring so much, she told herself as she and Doufan circled each other in the dirt. Two of the standing torches had gone out by the training ground they had chosen, but it was still bright enough to see the man’s narrowed eyes and the angular, serpent-like face they peered out of. Doufan, the most mysterious of them all. Pierro was loud and brash; there could be no comparison. Aimee was quieter, but only in the haughtiest and most transparent of ways, and Anzi—Anzi had never been mysterious at all. Standoffish, yes, she could admit it now, but never my
If Anzi were in her right mind, she would have known better than to charge blindly in whatever direction was pulling her, especially when it brought her into the lower market district where she careened into angry citizens, none of whom recognized her or her mind-shattering urgency. Not that she cared. She shoved them all aside with more strength than she should have, sending people tumbling into vendor stalls and against building walls and occasionally, to the ground. None of it mattered. She ignored the furious shouting and cursing following her every hurried step, driving herself ever onward first this way, then that, then backward every time she became too terrified she had gone in the wrong direction to go any farther. Somewhere, she was sure he was dying. She had no idea how she knew or why it was she could feel him—or maybe she would if only her mind weren’t reeling and tearing apart, splintering under the weight of the pain that carved so much d
Only Netra’s terrible hunger was capable of moving Anzi from her post by the infirmary door where she could keep an unblinking eye on both Kai and his suspicious ‘companion’ Neb Minnakhet. Just a couple of hours after exiling herself to the hallway, she was forced to go in search of something for the dragon to eat. The kitchens were only too happy to supply the imperious white dragonet with all the meat she could possibly stuff into her gullet—how was she growing so quickly?—while Serqet wandered elsewhere, bumping into corners and exploring the tiny dust bunnies along the walls. The younger hatchling wasn’t nearly as demanding and seemed to be able to go days without nourishment. And even when she was hungry, she seemed content to search for it on her own in the form of lizards, insects, and whatever else she could find rather than begging (screaming) for a meal. Such polar opposites. It made her wonder even more about drago
Tet paced back and forth. He hadn’t stopped once in the past hour. The palace maids had dismissed themselves long ago, making sure to remain bowing deep at the waist as they walked backward so as not to look upon the Emperor’s countenance. They had taken the ladders with them as well, and the friezes remained half-polished for now. They would come back only after the monarch had taken his leave. The guard who had scurried off to the dungeons was another story. He had no choice but to drag back the prisoner and stand in the presence of the Emperor upon his return, sweating buckets. He wasn’t merely starstruck, Anzi knew. If the Emperor realized he was the same man who had been guarding Kaizat when it all happened, he was as good as dead. She didn’t intend to betray him. She would never have trusted anyone but herself to do the job right anyway. As far as she was concerned, Bisset was the only one who needed to bleed for this, and the p
Anzi didn’t know how to describe the terrible swell of emotion that rose up inside her, if she could even call it something so mundane as emotion. Relief, anger, frustration, helplessness in the face of everything that had happened, all of it coalesced into a crippling weight that filled her up like molten metal poured into a cast. And underneath it all, she could feel the haunting shadows of pain in her belly and chest and knew without question they belonged to Kai. The bond he’d said they shared, the bond she hadn’t had time for, the bond she couldn’t afford to accept because it only made everything so much harder than it was already—it was here now. Looming larger than life and taking up the whole of her vision, her senses, planting itself in her path and forcing her to acknowledge it. So what choice did she have? What could she say anymore? Do? “You almost died,” she said dumbly. “You might still.” “No.” His voi
“Don’t push yourself. You’ll split your wounds open again.” Kai looked up with a smile, perched on the edge of the bed. “I was waiting for you.” “You were supposed to be resting.” “But you came knowing I wouldn’t.” He stretched out his hand toward her. “Do you want to help me leave this place? I’m sick of it. And so are the little ones.” She followed his gaze to the corner where Netra and Serqet were currently fighting over something—oh, no. “Get that out of your mouths!” “Leave them. They should enjoy the time they have.” “That’s yours,” she said hotly as she whirled back around to shoot him a dirty look. “Why are you letting them play with it? You’re teaching them bad habits.” “They’ll never outgrow it. They say dragons love gold.” She ignored him and stomped toward them, but instead of displaying any hasty remorse over
They didn’t have a moment alone, ever. Anzi couldn’t so much as look at Kai without Alain and his fellow damned spies pinning her with the most intent of stares. And it was deliberate. Maybe Tet trusted her more now than before, but he must have told them to make it clear she was every bit the pressed prisoner she’d always been. Kai knew it too, although his restlessness appeared to come from a different direction than mere frustration at being watched. “They reek,” he snarled on the morning of the festival as she turned him around and wrapped fresh linen bandages around his waist. “How long is he going to keep them around you?” “They’re watching you, too. And they smell fine. Stop saying they smell like—sex, you don’t just go around saying that in front of people. It’s crass. This isn’t the lower districts, we use our nicer words here.” That was enough to make him peel his fierce glare away from t
When Anzi withdrew from the gauzy curtains, Bisset was watching her from where he stood flanking the palanquin. He wore no expression, stone-cold and emotionless as always, but behind the marble indifference lay an insidious spite directed at none other than her. She knew. So did he. He wouldn’t be looking at her otherwise. He was sending a clear message he knew she would decipher behind his inscrutable face. And she would have gone for his head for that if not for one thing: she had to stay alive to protect Oza. And Letti, too, if Bisset knew about her. And why wouldn’t he? It seemed all he did now was seek out her weaknesses and threaten them. She should have known he would act quickly. She had thought she could stall until she was no longer under close watch and move then. This was her fault. A flurry of suspicion slipped through her. She still believed he had a greater hand in plotting Kai’s attempted
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