On a small height overlooking the farmlands and pastures south of Karakan, Lalia closed her eyes and breathed deep of the cool, clear air. Gods and Mercies, it was good to be out of the city!

  She loved Karakan as an entity, and she loved the city as a concept — a place where you could learn all kinds of things, sample all kinds of wares, and meet all kinds of people. Too bad that the reality left a lot to be desired. There was too much noise and too many confusing rumors, if you bought anything unfamiliar you could never know if it was worth the money, and the people… There were just too many people!

  Lalia would never admit it — not to Garal, not to Mak, not even to the commander — but crowds made her skin crawl. She’d trained herself to keep her hand off her sword, but she’d never learned to relax with a normal market crowd around her. Too many conversations, too many strangers coming and going, looming over her or moving in the corner of her eye. The constant gleam of metal as things were bought and sold, and coins changed hands… even now, years after she first came to the city, she sometimes felt her breath grow short, her skin cold and clammy. It had happened again just days ago — the normal problems, together with the uncertainty regarding their contract, had just been too much. She’d had to hide in an alley until her heart stopped racing, and then find her way along the backstreets to avoid the crowd.

  But all that was over now. The contract had been restored to its original terms, with pay for the days they’d sat idle. Now they were back out on patrol, there was no more quiet fear of the company splitting, and Lalia could breathe properly again.

  Behind her, Windfall nickered softly and nuzzled her loose hair. “Hey, boy,” she said softly, turning to stroke his muzzle then scratch him roughly behind the jaw the way he liked. “Don’t worry. I’m all right.”

  Windfall snorted, then took a step back and tossed his head straight back repeatedly.

  Lalia’s hackles raised. Windfall had been with her long enough for her to know that he was far more clever than your average horse, and more than once he’d pointed out some danger she’d missed. The problem lay in deciphering what he wanted her to do.

  “What is it, boy?” she asked and he tossed his head again. On a hunch she looked up. Yep. That was definitely what he’d wanted.

  A shadow was passing above them. A thousand feet up, perhaps, high enough that she would have been hard to see against the clear sky if she wasn’t so big. But there she was, unmistakable, if only because the other dragon was even bigger.

  A quick look showed the rest of her patrol, all twelve of them, staring at the skies. She couldn’t blame them; it was hard to do anything else when the city’s own dragon showed herself. Lalia herself wasn’t immune, and before she knew it, she found her own neck craning back again so she could watch that dragon pass.

  Dragon. Dragon, dragon, dragon. Lately everything seemed to be connected in some way to that Sorrows-begotten dragon. And Lalia knew her. Personally. They were even, on some level, friends — though Lalia still had some serious reservations there. And she was pretty sure that she owed her a serious debt of gratitude; Draka had met with the lord exchequer, and according to Commander Rallon it was that very same councillor who had suddenly championed a return to the Wolves’ original contract.

  But that was the thing. There’s been a seemingly insurmountable problem, Draka had gotten herself involved, and now the problem was gone.

  Dragon, dragon, dragon.

  Mercies, Lalia asked herself, how did she get so big, so fast?

  When they first met, Draka had barely reached Lalia’s waist. The next time she’d been a little bigger, and the time after that, a little bigger still. Now she was… Lalia wasn’t sure. Even Herald, giant of a girl that she was, didn’t reach Draka’s shoulder anymore.

  That rapid growth had been a constant pattern, and — another thing Lalia would never admit to anyone — it had terrified her for a long time. Not for a while now, though. Lalia doubted that she’d ever stop being frightened of the dragon, because she wasn’t an idiot. But they’d come to an understanding, the two of them. Lalia had seen that Draka would never hurt the people close to her; Draka was violent, avaricious, possessive, and arrogant, but she was also loyal to a fault. And Draka had understood why Lalia had been so suspicious of her in the first place. Perhaps that wasn’t an entirely equal exchange, but it had kept them from coming to blows again.

  Okay, so the only actual blows had been Lalia hacking Draka in the neck, but still. The point stood.

  So, yeah, they understood each other to some degree. If only Lalia’s danger sense Advancement would stop going off every time she saw the dragon, she might even learn to relax around her.

  A bright voice cut right through her musings, saying, “Wonder where she’s going.” Lalia sprang forward a step and whirled, startling Windfall. Her sword was halfway out when she saw that it was just Rib.

  “Sorrows take you, you sneaky bitch!” Lalia laughed with relief as she snapped her sword back into its scabbard. “One of these days you’re going to sneak up on me, and I’m actually going to cut you.”

  “Yeah, probably.” Rib didn’t sound like she cared either way. “So what do you think the Lady of Scales is up to?”

  “Oh, gods and Mercies, don’t you start with the weird titles! She’s just Draka, all right? And Mercies only know where she’s going. A month ago I would have said she was headed to help the army, but she’s pretty damn pissed at the Council right now.”

  And for good reason. In Lalia's mind it was a small miracle that they still had a Council after that ridiculous arrest. The fact that the whole guard patrol that met them was still alive was the Mercies’ work. They’d tried to arrest Herald! Herald! With Draka right there! And not only had Draka not torn them to shreds, she’d gone with them!

  Maybe it had been unfair to expect a bloodbath. As far as Lalia knew, Draka hadn’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. So why wouldn’t her danger sense stop screaming?

  “Well, whatever she’s about, it’s not like we can watch.” Rib sounded disappointed as she tracked Draka’s departing shape toward the horizon. Then she shrugged. “Anyway, those raiding fucks are among the trees in the gully, right where we thought they’d be. There were seven of them, but there’s six now. We should move before they miss their sentry.”

  “What? Dammit, Rib!” Lalia burst into action, getting her patrol in order before mounting up. As her fellow mercenaries checked their gear she curtly asked Rib, “You couldn’t have waited?!”

  “Maybe.” The young aristocrat was entirely unapologetic. And why not? It wasn’t like she was under Lalia’s command, as such. “The guy walked right past me, though! I saw an opportunity and I took it! One less bandit to worry about, you know?”

  “And if the others find him? If he doesn’t check in and they decide he’s been gone too long? Sorrows take you, Rib, they’ve got captives!”

  “Captive. There’s only the one. And I guess we’d better hurry, then, haven’t we?” Suddenly there was a long, curved knife in Ribs hand. “Would be a shame if they killed ‘im or got away.”

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  Lalia took a steadying breath. She liked Rib. She really did. She liked Pot, too. They were easy to get along with, generous to their friends, and hilariously raunchy after a couple of drinks. But honestly, it seemed terribly unfair to Draka that she set off Lalia’s danger sense, but the two younger Terriallons didn’t. Because as violent as the dragon was, at least she usually showed some kind of strong emotion about it. The two cousins just killed.

  Honestly, if you didn’t know her, Rib could be scarier than Draka. Damned good to have along on patrol, though. Most of the time.

  “See?” Rib asked conversationally as she cleaned her sword. “Everything went fine!”

  She wasn’t wrong. The bandits had been completely unprepared. Lalia and her patrol had smashed into them like a landslide, and Lalia privately suspected that the only reason they hadn’t surrendered faster was the shock of it all. As it was they had four bodies and three prisoners to deal with, as well as one badly beaten young man who could supposedly both read and affect people’s emotions.

  Young women were the usual target for abductions, but Lalia had a good idea of why the bandits had grabbed this guy. Those Tekereteki bastards were still offering high bounties for magic users, on the order of a dozen dragons. In theory, all the bandits would have needed to do was to get across the southern border — not exactly safe, but by no means impossible — and they would have had themselves a nice little payday. In practice Lalia doubted that anyone who actually tried to claim one of those bounties survived the attempt, but that didn’t stop scum like the ones they’d just wiped out from trying.

  While the patrol secured the prisoners and looted the camp, Lalia took Rib with her to speak to the rescued prisoner. He was probably in his mid-twenties, but even with the bruising and the bags under his eyes he had a gentleness to his face that made him look younger. Despite the early hour he looked worn out, but that was no surprise; he’d been poorly treated. There was no telling how restful his sleep had been the last few days. Besides that he was a magic user, and if he’d been using his magic much lately, that would have taken a lot out of him.

  The man had been left on his own, sitting on a log by the firepit. He’d been given some food and drink but had barely touched them. He looked up as Lalia and Rib approached, and Lalia didn’t waste any time on pleasantries.

  “Hey. I’m Lalia, and this is Her Young Ladyship Terriallon Rebatia. We’re with the Gray Wolves. We need to talk.”

  “Did you really have to use my full name and title?” Rib complained, settling down on the log two feet away from their rescuee.

  “He may as well know that he’s in the presence of nobility,” Lalia said flatly. It was probably childish — she knew how much Rib disliked hearing her full name. But Rib had messed up by forcing the attack, and it wasn’t like complaining to Rallon would make any meaningful difference.

  Her petty vengeance done, she turned back to their rescued captive. “So, do you have a name?”

  “Ah, Dorten, Miss. Your ladyship,” the man said. He had a soft voice, and a southern accent. “Thank you.”

  “Just doing what the city pays us for. Dorten, we’ve accounted for seven bandits, five men, two women. Were there any more that you know of?”

  “Yes, Miss. Two men left early this morning. They were riding ahead, and we were to follow after striking camp.”

  “Any idea where they were taking you?”

  “To the coast, somewhere, I think. They were handing me over to someone.”

  “Well, shit.” Lalia frowned, taking a moment to consider what that meant. “Sounds like they don’t need to carry people across the border anymore.”

  “Yes, Miss, they were in a fine mood about that.”

  Lalia turned her frown on the man. There was something off about him. He should be crying, or excited, or something. “And you? You sound awfully calm for someone who was on your way to be sold into slavery.”

  “That’s fair, Miss. Would you believe that this is not the first time it’s happened to me? The first time I was rescued, but I could not rely on the grace of the Mercies again. So I’ve not been sitting idle, awaiting my fate. Since I was taken I’ve been working on these bandits. I’ve been making them confident and relaxed, hoping for a chance to run. Then this morning… I’m sure it will sound foolish to you ladies, but did you see the dragon?”

  “We did, yeah,” Lalia said.

  “Well, I saw her pass above us, and I thought her an omen. For a moment I… I thought she’d come for me. That she was coming to free me again. I saw my folly quickly, of course, but, as I said, she seemed a good omen to me. So I used all I had left to give to make them feel safe, so they wouldn’t expect an escape or attack. And it worked!”

  “Wait. Wait, wait, wait!” Lalia leaned forward. This sounded familiar. “You thought that she was going to free you ‘again’? And you’re from the south, yeah?”

  Dorten’s forehead wrinkled. “Yes, I—”

  “Yeah, what do you mean, ‘again’?” Rib said, suddenly interested. “You’ve met the big girl?”

  Dorten’s eyes widened, his mouth opening in an expression of scandalized confusion. “The… big girl?”

  “Yeah! Draka? Big, scaly, black as night,” Rib said eagerly. “Hey, does the name Kira sound familiar to you?”

  “Bekiratag,” Lalia said. “‘Kira's a nickname.”

  Rib snapped her fingers. “Right! Have you heard that before? A bit shorter than Lalia here, rather pretty in a soft way, kind eyes?”

  “The healer?” Dorten asked, completely perplexed. “Yes, she took care of us when— how do you know her? Is she still alive?”

  Rib laughed happily. “Oh, yeah! She’s just fine, loving life and making love! She was a bit shy at first, but I guess getting abducted by a dragon will do that to you. So you’re one of those people! The ones Draka saved when she was doing our job for us!”

  “Doing your job…?”

  “Oh, yeah! Cousin Mordo—”

  “The commander of our company,” Lalia explained.

  Rib nodded. “Right. He called in a favor, asked her to scout out some raiders for us. She came back with another girl for her collection and a medallion that led us to the bastards. Could have gone better in the end, but that’s not her fault.”

  “Then…” Dorten looked between the two of them, then at the other Wolves who were finishing packing up the camp, “I owe your company my thanks twice over.”

  “Well, you’ll have a chance to give the commander your thanks soon enough,” Lalia said, getting to her feet. “I’m sending the prisoners back to the city with some of my men, and I’m asking you to go with them. You’re not being accused of anything and it’s your choice, right, but if you’ve overheard anything, there are people who know how to help you remember. It could really help us out.”

  Dorten only thought about it for a second before he asked, “Do you think I could meet the dragon again? And the healer?”

  “Sure, yeah. Maybe. Draka’s all over the place these days, but Kira’s usually at the inn. You’ll have to ask the commander.”

  “Really, though, where do you think she was going?”

  “Huh?” Lalia looked over at Rib, who was riding beside her. The question had come out of nowhere, after several minutes of silence. They were back on the road, having returned to their patrol after sending off four of their troop with Dorten and the prisoners. They’d tried to follow the two bandits who’d gone ahead toward the coast, but that was a bust. Even Parlak, their best tracker, hadn’t been able to find any sign of them, and they simply didn’t have the time to chase after them blindly.

  So, back to their regular patrol it was. They were four swords down, but there were still ten of them counting Lalia and Rib, and all of them with at least one year in the Company. They’d be fine.

  “Draka,” Rib said. “You know? Big, scaly, wings, lots of teeth? I wonder where she was going.”

  “I thought we’d been through this.”

  “Not really. We just said we didn’t know and couldn’t find out, didn’t we?”

  Lalia rolled her eyes. “That hasn’t changed, though. So what’s the point of talking about it?”

  Rib shrugged. “What else are we going to do? It’s half an hour to the next village, and there’s fuck all else to do or talk about. And whatever she’s doing it’s probably important, isn’t it?”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Well, there’s a bloody great dragon involved,” Rib said with a grin. “If it wasn’t important before, it will be once she gets there. Besides, the other one, her mum, she was seen heading south a few days ago, too. So two dragons.”

  “Wait, really?”

  “Yep. Heard it from some adventurers who’d been out near the mountains. Apparently she tore past going Mercies only know how fast. Must be pretty important for a hundred feet of death to haul tail, ay?”

  Lalia turned her eyes pensively to the south. Whatever the hell Draka and her mother were up to, she could only pray that it was Happar’s problem, and not Karakan’s. She’d seen that mother of hers, a thousand feet or more above them, and the sight had made her desperately thankful that Draka was on their side. It didn’t matter that Herald claimed that, “Embers is quite sweet once you get to know her.” Lalia couldn’t imagine being within a hundred feet of her, much less being a target of her anger. Just the thought made her feet numb.

  “Well, shit,” she said.

  “‘Well, shit’, indeed,” Rib agreed.

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