Watching my mother effortlessly shift what must have been thousands upon thousands of tons of stone was, in a word, humbling. It was a display of casual power beyond anything I’d ever imagined, and the only thing that kept it from being absolutely terrifying was the knowledge that I had at least some measure of influence over her. Not control — I wasn’t so stupid as to think that — but she wanted me to be safe and happy. The risk of her turning that power against the people I cared for wasn’t zero, but at least her affection for me should buy them some kind of protection.

  Of course, collateral damage was very much a thing. Especially when talking about power that could hollow out a mountain.

  After an hour or so Mother emerged from the hole in the ancient stone, which she was steadily making larger. The edges of the opening still glowed an angry red, ticking and pinging, and she was completely unaffected by the heat. Me, I couldn’t get close enough to see how deep she’d gotten, but it was big enough for her to turn around inside. “While I appreciate the company there is no need for the two of you to sit here and watch,” she said. “I can see how bored you are already. It will be some hours yet before this cave is large enough to serve, and much longer before the stone settles. Go! Return to your city and your humans. We know where to find each other.”

  “If you are sure…?” we said, turning to look at Mak where she lay, staring thoughtfully at the sky. Instinct would have preferred to stay, but she also didn’t want to fight me. Not if compromise meant that she’d be allowed more almost-free reign in the future. When I nudged her to step back and give me full control again she only made the smallest fuss, and the most token resistance.

  Mak immediately turned her head to regard me, and I could see that she knew that something had changed in me.

  “Daughter,” Mother said, “if you had inherited my resistance to heat, I might ask you to stay. We could work on your Draconic. But it does no one any good for you to sit here and wait. No, I appreciate the gesture, but do go and enjoy yourself.”

  “All right. I will see you later, then,” I said. Mak immediately started picking herself up off the ground. Then I looked back at Mother over my shoulder. “Just, one thing? Or two, actually.”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you please not fly over the city if you want me? I’ll be out here again tomorrow evening, or the morning after at the latest. And even for a few days after that? The Council are being pissy — sorry, difficult — and I have a plan in motion to deal with them. I’d rather they didn’t get spooked before then.”

  Mother’s eyes crinkled. “Well, far be it from me to interfere with your schemes. I will be patient. But if you give me cause to worry I will be flying to your city, and I will be landing to ask questions if I must. Do not forget that.”

  “Yeah,” I said. Mak pressed herself closer to me in response to the anxiety that spiked in me. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “See that you do. And the second thing?”

  I hesitated. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to mention it, but I needed to know what my options were. “The war—” I started, then hesitated again.

  Mother’s eyes narrowed. Not with disapproval, but with interest. “Yes?” she said, drawing the word out in a very human-like way.

  In for a penny… I thought. “The war is not going well. If I asked, would you help?”

  “Would I intervene in a war between humans?” she said, with false thoughtfulness. “One where I have no personal stake?”

  That was unexpectedly hurtful. “There’s me,” I said.

  “There is you,” she conceded. “A stake once removed then. Well, daughter. If you asked, I might. If the Council of this city came before me and begged, I might. But this is not a thing lightly done. There is no such thing as giving some aid. If I were to take a side, I would be forced to destroy the other utterly. Do you understand why?”

  “So they wouldn’t dare retaliate?”

  “So they would be unable to retaliate, for generations. Yes, daughter. I could help. But I would have to destroy their armies, then their cities. I would have to drive them into the fields and forests and seas. And even then there would be vengeful survivors, or friends and relatives of the fallen, or simply righteous busybodies who would seek to destroy me for it. Even from the city on whose behalf I intervened they would swarm like ungrateful vermin. Believe me, daughter: I know this from hard won experience. And when they came looking for a dragon to destroy, do you think they would prefer me, or an easier target?”

  “Right,” I said.

  “And if they were to attempt to harm you, I would be forced to retaliate. If they were so unfortunate as to succeed…” She fell silent, and the sheer rage that radiated from her was so terrifying, so overpowering, that I felt myself quiver. Mak moaned and fell to her knees, not daring to look at her.

  When Mother spoke again, her words filled the world. “So, yes, daughter. I could intervene. But think long and hard before you ask me.” Then the power in the air vanished. She crinkled her eyes at me like nothing had happened and said, “Goodbye, now! See you soon!”

  With that she walked over to her handmade cave. As she calmly lobbed out another chunk of half-melted rock the size of a fridge, I grabbed Mak off the ground and took off.

  “Mercies, but I’m glad she’s your mother,” Mak called shakily once we were on our way.

  “Fuckin’ oath,” I answered in English. Karakani just didn’t have an expression strong enough.

  Mak snorted. “Fuckin’ oath,” she agreed.

  We returned to the inn to a pleasant surprise. All four of our favorite Gray Wolves were not only back, but at the inn. I’d barely seen them for weeks, with how busy their patrol schedules had been, and now here they were, all of them! They’d been drinking in the common room — a bit early in my mind, but they were all adults — but Herald, Tam and Val brought them down to the cellar almost as soon as Mak and I stepped inside. And to my delight they all looked as happy to see me as I was them. Hell, even Lalia had a smile for me!

  Once we got the how-are-yous, its-been-too-longs, and gods-you’re-bigs out of the way, however, I asked what was apparently the worst question possible: “So, to what do we owe the pleasure? How come you’re all here?”

  The smiles slowly faded as the Wolves looked at one another. It was Rib who spoke up first. “We’ve all been recalled to the city,” she said. “Every one of us. There’s no one patrolling anymore. Not right now. Cousin Mordo’s been called in to renegotiate the contract.”

  “What?” I wasn’t sure what I was hearing. “So no one’s keeping the bandits and raiders at bay?”

  “Part of the contract,” Pot said. “Company can’t be active while we’re negotiating.”

  “Fucking stupid if you ask me,” Lalia added bitterly. “Not like we weren’t busy all the gods-damn time. And the militias aren’t going to be enough. We should be out there, no matter what!”

  Garal put a tentative hand around her shoulders. At first she bristled, but then she relaxed and let him hold her. I’d noticed an unusual distance between them, too — something was badly wrong if it had put a wedge between those two.

  “Yes, well…” Rib said uncomfortably. “Until the new terms are agreed upon, whatever those may be—”

  Lalia exploded. “Oh, come on, Rib! You keep dancing. Just say it! We all know what the new terms are going to be, if there are any! Either we’re going to the front, or we’ll have wasted a week, leaving the countryside to be ravaged by scum!”

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  “Or,” Pot added softly, “There’s no contract at all.”

  Garal winced slightly at that, and Lalia’s face hardened. “I think we all know what would happen then.” She turned to me and Mak. “Some of us are considering breaking our contracts to join the Army, if the Council and the commander don’t agree.”

  “That’s crazy,” I said, unable to keep my peace anymore. “Why the hell would they do this now? You’re one company! How much good could you do at the front?”

  “One well trained, well equipped company,” Garal said. “We could do plenty.”

  “Fine, all right, but would Rallon agree to send you to the front? War isn’t really your business, is it? You’re peacekeepers. Bandit hunters. Wouldn’t he just say no, and keep things as they are?”

  Garal shook his head. “The Council may not want to pay for a peacekeeping company right now. It’s money they could spend on other mercenaries who do make a business of war. Or on any of a million other expenditures.”

  “And if there’s no contract, there’s nothing keeping us here. But about a third of the company are local,” Pot said, glancing at Lalia, who was staring at the floor. “And most of them won’t abandon their city in a time like this.”

  “Damn right, we won’t,” Lalia whispered. A dark spot appeared on the stones beneath her face, and when I looked at her face there was a drop of water hanging from the tip of her nose, which slowly swelled and fell. My first thought was that it was strange — that nobody else was sweating. As silent and still as she was, it didn’t even occur to me that she might be crying.

  You didn’t need to be a genius to know who’d be staying, and who’d be going, if the negotiations fell through. I still glanced at Mak, who caught my eye and nodded soberly.

  “So where the hell is the League in all this?” I asked. “It’s been well over a month. Where are the reinforcements?”

  “The League Council only resolved to step in ten days ago, according to cousin Mordo,” Pot said. “Their navies should be out there already, but raising ground troops takes time. We may see some standing regiments arrive piecemeal, just to stall the Happaran advance, but what if this is a ploy by Tekeretek to weaken the other League members at home? Nobody wants their capital or their most important trading ports sacked by a Tekereteki raiding fleet.”

  “They’ll get here. They will,” Rib said confidently. “Tavvanar would never abandon Karakan. But it’ll take time.”

  “Time Karakan doesn’t have!” I said. It was all so stupid! “I’ve been to the front. The one where it started, and the current one, miles and miles further north. The damn League had better get moving!”

  “Mother could help,” Instinct whispered, and visions of a sea of flame, of cities burning, flashed through my mind. “We only need to ask.”

  I didn’t answer. Even Conscience was conspicuously absent — there wasn’t even any disapproval from her, only a silent, shameful thoughtfulness. And at this point I wasn’t even worried about owing my mother some kind of debt — she hadn’t said a word about me owing her anything, but if she decided that I did it would probably be worth it to save the city my family called home. But even if Mother agreed, if she decided that I’d thought about it hard enough, and even if she did so with no strings attached, the thought of cities burning didn’t sit right with me.

  I wanted the war to be over. I wanted no part of ending a nation, or of killing a generation or more of Happarans, but neither did I want to see Karakan sacked. I just hoped things on the ground changed before I had to choose between the two, because I knew without a doubt which way I’d go. I’d try to do something about it myself before I let it go that far, but if I had to…

  “Draka?” Herald’s voice was worried, and I realized that I’d let the conversation carry on without me. I looked at her, and she said, “Where did you go?”

  “Nowhere real, I hope,” I said. “What were we talking about?”

  “Garal asked about your mother,” Tam said.

  I almost laughed. It was only reasonable. Garal was a polite and thoughtful guy on the worst of days, and of course they’d all want to know about her. But it still felt like one hell of a coincidence. “She’s… awesome,” I said after some thought, very loosely translating from a book I loved. “She inspires awe. She’s terrific. She begets terror. And she’s very concerned about my wellbeing first, and my happiness second. So, as long as nobody succeeds in doing anything stupid that I can’t hide from her, everything should be fine.”

  “Sure,” Rib said. “But what’s she like?”

  “Proud, possessive, surprisingly flexible, oddly sweet sometimes. And a bit lonely, I think. She’s old, and I get the feeling that my siblings don’t visit her very often. Herald?”

  “We talked so much,” my sister said through a smile. “She will happily talk about anything as long as you are passionate about it. And Draka is right. So long as you treat her like a queen, she will treat you like a favored subject: with respect, generosity, and kindness. Relatively, of course. She is a dragon.”

  Lalia looked up. Her eyes were a little puffy, and there was some wetness on her cheeks, but those were the only signs. All this time, nobody had mentioned her tears. She pointedly didn’t look at me as she said, “Herald. Is the city safe from her?"

  Herald and Mak both shifted uncomfortably. It was obvious enough, at least to me, what they wanted to say. Herald must have finally found the right wording, because she looked away from me to Mak and said, “Absolutely safe? No. Embers is proud, and she sees Draka as an extension of herself. An insult to Draka is an insult to Embers. And the Council is in the hands of people who either do not fully believe what the histories have to say about the might of dragons, or who overestimate their ability to handle one. They have already dealt with Draka in bad faith more than once.”

  “Senile bastards!” Lalia spat. “What good are they? They hired the damn Cranes, then they hamstrung us, and now they’re pissing off a Sorrows-begotten dragon!”

  Everyone just stared at her until she realized what she’d said. “Dammit. Sorry, Draka. I didn’t mean that.”

  “You did,” I said, “but I get it. I—” I looked at the four Wolves, then at my family. “How much have you told them about the attacks?”

  “Most of it,” Tam said, stressing the first word heavily.

  “Right. Well, I don’t want to tell you anything that could get you in trouble. Plausible deniability, and all that. Is that a thing here? Anyway, someone on the Council was behind the attacks on Mak and the inn.”

  “The fuck?” Lalia said under her breath.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “And this isn’t speculation. We know who it was, and we’re… taking steps.” I looked between the four. “I’m trusting you, all right? We’re all friends here, but the reason I’m telling you is to let you know that I understand your frustration. I think some people on the Council are not working in the best interests of the city.” I looked at each of them in turn: Lalia looked shocked, Garal disgusted, and the Terrialons unhappy but barely even surprised. “And I’m going to do something about it.”

  “But… why?” Lalia asked. “I mean, not why is there possibly corruption in the Council. That’s just money or power or some shit like that. But you? Why do you care?”

  That hurt far more than I’d expected. I thought Lalia and I knew each other well enough by now. The open hostility was long gone, and I’d hoped that by now she’d at least understand why I would want to defend the city my family called home.

  A tense silence built as I didn’t say anything. I was still searching for a response that wouldn’t show how upset I was when Mak stepped in.

  “The Council tried to stiff her on a payment,” she said, only half joking, and it broke the tension, getting some relieved if halfhearted laughs out of everyone. “But, seriously, they attacked us. Their corruption or incompetence threatens us. And Draka will never let us get hurt if she can help it. Right, Draka?”

  “Right,” I said, making sure to lean on the gratitude I felt for her in that moment.

  Mak’s smile told me that she felt it. “It’s as simple as that, Lalia. And I know that you know all about wanting to keep your friends and family safe. Gods know I’m only here today thanks to you.”

  “I won’t let her burn this city,” I said. “I don’t think she’d go that far as long as I’m alive, but even if she did I’d throw myself in front of her before I let her destroy your home. I’ll fly into her jaws before I let her burn a single building.” Then, in the spirit of honesty, I added, “With some negotiated exceptions.”

  “Like the home of your treacherous councillor?” Garal asked.

  “Like that, yeah. Shouldn’t come to it, though. I’ve got a plan.”

  “Should we be talking about this?” Pol said. “It sounds very much like you’re planning to kill a councillor.”

  I grinned. “Who said anything about killing? It’s more like… let’s just say that after I speak with this person, they’re going to be working tirelessly in the best interest of the city from then on.”

  “Draka,” Lalia said, “we’ve had some… differences. And I’ve never asked you for much. But if whatever you have planned will give you some leverage over the Council, if you can somehow make sure our company stays here, I’ll be in your debt.”

  I still had hope that the Council, despite the less than reasonable behavior of some of its members, would be wise enough to keep the Wolves on, even if Rallon refused to go to the front. But I knew that even without Lalia’s plea, I would have wanted to use Soandel to tip the scales in my favor, once I had him. I wanted the Wolves to stay, there was no question about that. I only had so many friends. I had even fewer that were free of my influence. And I wasn’t going to let anything make that number smaller, not if I could help it.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I told Lalia sincerely. “But it will be a few days. For now: Mak, we have some more letters to write.”

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