Once Ardek was gone, I laid down heavily on the floor, putting me more on a level with Mak. “Do you think this attack has to do with me?” I asked. “With me becoming official?”

  “‘Becoming official.’” Mak said it with a humorous lilt to her voice, but while she wasn't quite as transparent to me as I was to her, I still saw right through her. She slowly walked over to and sat on the bench beside me. She did that a lot, I’d noticed; putting herself lower than me so she'd have to look up at me, especially when she was anxious. It seemed to calm her.

  The message, intentional or not, was clear: what else could possibly be the reason for this attack, especially after what Vakkal had said?

  As though she could read my actual thoughts and not just my emotions, she looked down and said, “I wish I hadn't killed him. I wasn't thinking. I only hope you can forgive me.”

  “Vakkal?”

  “Yes.”

  “You did nothing wrong. Keep yourself and the others safe first, yeah? Once the immediate threat is dealt with you can start thinking long term.”

  “The three others,” she said, and I got the impression that to her, she was about to confess something. “I could have let them go, or captured any of them. They were fleeing. Two of them were crippled. I killed them anyway.”

  “Oh.” I wasn't sure what else to say about that.

  “After I ran the second one down I tracked the last two. They couldn't walk, so neither of them got far. I could have knocked them out, taken them here or somewhere else, questioned them… I was angry. I was so angry that they were trying to get to you through me, that I’d put myself in a position where they could even try. I cut their throats while they begged for their lives. It was like I couldn't even hear them. Or I could, but the words didn't mean anything.”

  When she looked up again I expected her to be crying, but her eyes were dry. Instead she had this desperate look, like she was terrified of my disappointment. Of me judging her.

  Good. She is doing so well, Instinct purred, beyond pleased with what we were hearing. I almost echoed the words to Mak. I knew that they’d reassure her; hell, she'd take them as gospel. She’d mold her future behavior around them.

  So, I didn't tell her that. It might have been what she wanted to hear, but it wasn't what she— what I needed her to hear.

  “I know the feeling,” I told her instead. “Sometimes it’s like I have to fight it every time the claws come out.”

  I didn’t mention the urge that came after, the desire to feel my teeth sink into flesh, to taste blood and delight in warm, raw chunks of my enemy vanishing down my gullet. This wasn’t about me or my issues.

  “But you do fight it?” she asked, like a child in desperate need of guidance.

  “Not always,” I admitted. “Most of the time. The important thing is to think before letting go. Be sure they deserve it. To not kill just because it’s convenient.”

  She hung her head again. “I did think. At least I thought so. But the only conclusion I came to was that they needed to die.”

  I asked her, “Did it feel good? Letting go,” and I saw her confidence return for a moment, smelled a surge of excitement that washed off her and was gone as soon as she started thinking again. From the little changes in her face I could see her recoil from her first, honest reaction. She was still ashamed of it, at least on some level.

  But she wouldn’t lie to me. She didn’t look at me, and her voice was terribly small, but she finally told me, “It felt right.”

  “Okay,” I told her. “Maybe you were right. Maybe you weren’t. We can’t know what would have happened if you’d been merciful. But I know that you’re not stupid, and you’re not cruel. So, here’s what we’re going to do: you’re going to promise me to always think first, and I’m going to trust your judgment. Gods know I trust yours over my own. If letting the dragon take control is your answer, then so be it."

  Mak raised her face, and it was like I’d given her the keys to the kingdom of heaven. She looked at me like I’d solved world hunger, cured Herald of cancer, and had the sun shining out my scaly ass all at once. “As you say, Mistress,” she said, every trace of self-doubt and anxiety gone like they’d never been.

  I fought the urge to cringe, focusing as hard as I could on every positive thing I felt for her. I really wasn’t comfortable with the “mistress” thing. Not from her. I’d told her that what I needed from her was a friend and a sister, not a servant. But I also knew how hard it was for her. I wasn’t merely in her head — she wasn’t like Herald, who was bound to me by love, or Ardek or Kira, who were bound by fear or awe. Mak was the first person I’d truly broken, and Mak, ever since she put herself back together, truly wanted to serve me. My approval and satisfaction were everything to her, the glue between the shards of who she’d been, and even mild disappointment on my part hurt her terribly.

  She’d told me once that if she didn’t belong to me she wouldn’t know who she was anymore. If she called me “mistress” once in a while it was because she needed to reassure herself that she had a place in the world, and that I valued her.

  How could I possibly correct her?

  I’d been back in Karakan for less than two hours, and I already itched to go back and check on Herald. But I was in the city, and there were things I had to do.

  Cleaning up this whole mess with Vestel wasn’t one of them. That, I’d have to delegate at least temporarily, trusting in my family and my subordinates to handle it. What I could do, though, was to take Mak and Kira out to recharge their Hearts. Tam insisted that he barely felt any different, but from what he’d told me of the fight he didn’t really use his magic, relying on his passive Advancements and raw skill with the sword, of which he had plenty. I extracted a promise from him and Val not to leave the inn while I was away with the girls, and then we took off.

  It didn’t take long. A little over an hour’s flight north, forty minutes to find and devour a Heart, and then an hour back. We were home, the girls warm, dry, and with hot drinks in their hands by two in the afternoon. Not worrying about taking off and landing in the yard saved so much time!

  The other was something I’d originally come here for. I’d told Herald that I wanted to check on everyone, and that was true. That was one of the reasons I’d come. The other was something I didn’t want to mention in front of Reaper.

  The City owed me money. A lot of money. They’d stiffed me, and I intended to collect.

  The Council’s open sessions were great in concept. Anyone of a certain standing could come and listen and ask questions, and the decisions of the Council could and did change depending on the questions raised and the reactions of the crowd to their answers.

  In practice, they were a mixed bag. Anyone of a certain standing could come and listen and ask questions, and every subject quickly devolved into bickering and attempts to squeeze out any and all financial or political advantage, no matter the cost to the city and its people. There was a small area for just anyone, no matter how rich or poor, but that space filled up quickly and once it was full, it was full. It was also small enough that the voices of the haves would drown out the have-nots every time.

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  Not that I needed to worry about things like that. When I arrived for my second ever open Council session, I was no more there for whatever was on the agenda than I had been the first time. I also made sure to arrive, not in the middle of the session, as I had before, but at the beginning, right before the doors closed.

  Mak had explained that most of the people who went to these sessions were interested in who else would be there. Those who arrived early could see everyone enter; whoever arrived last would have all eyes on them.

  I didn’t give a damn about who was there. I arrived right as the doors were closing. I wanted everyone to see me walk in.

  I wanted everyone to see Mak walk in beside me.

  The chamber erupted in hushed conversation. There could be no mistake about us being associated; Mak walked by my side, calm and confident, and we made sure to make some relaxed small talk as we took a place in the tiers.

  Tekeretek was the enemy. Tekeretek had a history as a nation of dragon worshippers. And here was Lady Drakonum, the first ethnically Tekereteki head of a Karakani House, making a display of her friendship with Karakan’s first resident dragon.

  Let them talk. Inside me, Instinct purred and preened at the attention.

  It might be risky. My family had feared our friendship becoming public, and for good reason. But things were different now, and we hadn’t just done this on a whim. Two hours earlier we’d been sitting in the cellar. The girls, Mak and Kira, had their drinks. So did Tam and Val, who’d joined us at my request. I knew what I wanted to do; I just needed them all to put their heads together and tell me if I was being a giant scaly idiot.

  “So what do you all think?” I’d asked, after telling them what I wanted to do.

  “It’s risky,” Tam said, but it wasn’t an objection, exactly. More of an observation. There was an eagerness to him, and I suspected that he badly wanted to tell everyone that he knew and was friends, even family, with the city’s only dragon. He’d just been too damn responsible to do so.

  Val nodded. “Two weeks ago, I would have asked if you’d taken leave of your senses. Being open about our relationship would have invited violence, with little benefit. Now, I am torn. We have already been attacked, and you are an official, legal resident of the city. Making it clear that we are friends, that this House is under your protection, might discourage further violence, or it might invite it. But the Council, or at least Lady Justice Sempralia and her people, have been hard at work encouraging a positive opinion of you. From what I’ve heard, they’re doing well. Seeing you lead the larger dragon away from the city especially seems to have convinced many of your dedication to the city. At the very least, it should dissuade those like our captive, who might attack on the orders of someone else, not knowing who they are attacking.”

  I nodded. “Fair points. So, not a no?”

  “Not a no, if this is a vote,” he agreed.

  “Tam?”

  “Not a no. Careful yes, depending on how you do it. Going to need to scare an appropriate amount of piss out of people, without going overboard.“

  “Kira, what do you think?”

  She turned her head with a jerk, like she was surprised to be asked. “Let everyone know you here? This is what we talk about?”

  “Right.”

  Kira took an extra moment before answering, putting her words in order. I wondered how much of that was her using her so-so skill with Karakani to buy time to think. “Sari will not come, if she knew,” she finally said. “Others, maybe. But most people like Sari, I think.”

  “She said they'd kill her if she didn't agree.”

  Kira shrugged. “Could still say yes, escape at night. I do not think she join fight if she knows. Most important: people will know. Soon, long time? They will know. Now, you can choose.”

  I could choose. That was a third of the reason I wanted to do this, the other two thirds being the intimidation factor hopefully keeping people away, and, of course, pride.

  “And Mak?”

  “I think it will invite further attacks,” she said, without a trace of worry. “I also think we can take it. I say we do it. And selfishly, I want to see the faces of the city’s finest when I walk in at the side of a dragon.”

  And that settled it. Mak dressed in her finest. She sent one of Ardek’s minions to fetch a palanquin — she’d usually consider that a waste of money, but she wanted to look her best when she got to the Palace. Then we set out. She rode in style, and I kept an eye on her from the sky.

  That brought us to the Council chamber. No one could have missed our entrance together, least of all the councilors on their platform. I nodded to them respectfully as their eyes locked on me, and we took our place in the tiers, near the commoners’ area. It was quite crowded already, but Mak didn’t take much space, and somehow people found room for a dragon.

  What followed was, oh, three hours or so of discussion about how to reinforce the front against Happar. The League were dragging their feet, the front was long, and the Happarans were far more mobile than the Karakani, letting them strike at weak points. More troops were needed, and fast.

  I pretty much slept through it with my eyes open, but I picked up the basics. There were three options: a draft, raised incentives for people to join the regiments, or war taxes to pay for mercenaries. Nobody wanted to pay the soldiers more, but there was a lot of bickering between major employers, who preferred mercenaries, and the traders, who preferred a draft. I didn’t quite pick up on the conclusion, if there was one, but it didn’t sound like anyone was very happy, so I figured a reasonable balance or compromise must have been found.

  Mak and I didn’t make any move to leave once the session was closed. Nor did the councilors. A few brave lords and ladies or their followers greeted me on their way out, though most passed as quickly as they could, and none stopped to speak. That suited me just fine. I tried to commit to memory the faces of the few who seemed genuine in their greetings, but I wasn’t there to make friends. I was getting paid.

  Once we were alone in the chamber, the last few stragglers and curious gawkers having been encouraged to leave by stone-faced palace guards, Lord Speaker Berkia spoke.

  “Lady Draka,” he said. “It is a pleasure to see you here again. How have the last few days treated you?”

  “Well enough,” I said, then let the silence drag until he spoke again.

  “And Lady Drakonum, I believe? Are you well?”

  “Thank you, my Lord Speaker, I am. I had some trouble this past week with thugs accosting me in the street, and again at my business two nights ago, but we dealt with them. One of my employees, a maid, was hurt, unfortunately, but I have a healer in my House. The girl will be fine.”

  “I am in turns saddened, and pleased to hear that. Now, I’m afraid that I must point out that this meeting is highly irregular. If not for Lady Draka’s unusual status, we would have had you both removed from the chamber. So, Lady Draka, what is it you wish to discuss with the Council?”

  Now, I liked the Lord Speaker. He was respectful and gave me a very grandfatherly impression — the kind of a good-humored, pleasant old man that you might enjoy having a conversation with on a park bench some lazy Sunday. And he’d voted for paying me, which bought him all kinds of good will. But I didn’t like his question. What possible reason could I have for being there, bar one?

  “Lord Speaker, you know full well why I’m here. Last time we spoke, you asked for proof that I had met Sower of Embers, Reaper of Flames. I’d say you have it. If you disagree, you can ask anyone in the street how many dragons were in the sky two days ago.”

  He didn’t agree immediately. On the platform, councilors leaned toward each other, speaking words that didn’t carry past the edge.

  The lord speaker straightened, and said, “The lord hierophant has the word.” He touched whatever hidden control he had, and after a flare of magic Lord Hierophant Nahasia spoke.

  “Are we really entertaining this?” he said, and the flames of rage kindled inside me. The words were directed to the other councilors, but he’d asked to speak specifically so that I’d hear him. This was a direct insult from the man who’d led the effort to deny me my gold last time. “‘Lady’ Draka—” he put a sneer on the title, “brought this vile creature to our shores. Then she brought it above our—”

  I’m not sure what exactly was the last straw. As far as I knew, I wasn’t tightly wound. I’d felt pretty good, walking into that chamber. I’d sat patiently through hours of dumb, boring shit that I didn’t care one whit about. I’d felt confident as the chamber emptied, leaving Mak and me to speak with the Council. Then, this jumped up ape insulted my mother, someone I’d only met days ago and didn’t actually know, who’d intended to terrorize this city and had suggested I break all the people closest to me so they could never betray me. My most positive emotion toward her so far had been relief that she allowed herself to be placated with promises.

  But she was my mother, and a fellow dragon, and something inside me snapped.

  Before the lord hierophant finished his sentence I was on my feet. My wings snapped out to their full width, ready to carry me onto the platform, and the chamber was plunged into darkness as shadows, like an explosion of ink, billowed from me to quash every light source, leaving only the platform lit. When I spoke, it was with a tone I’d never heard from myself. It was a roar that shook the stone of the Palace, one that promised fear and death and the end of nations.

  “Her name is Sower of Embers, Reaper of Flame, and you will speak of her with respect!”

  The Council’s hidden guards, Kalder among them, appeared both on the platform and around its base. Beside me, Mak threw a worried look at me, as her hand went to her sash, which I knew hid a short punch-dagger.

  I may have overdone it.

  and get 8 chapters early. You also get all seventy-plus finished chapters of my other story, , and anything else I’m trying out.

  Join us if you want to chat with other readers, or just hang out!