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She felt him land not far from her. The thud of a grown drake vibrated the mud beneath her, and the wind of his wings washed over her. She smelled his musk and the fresh blood of his latest kill. It stirred hunger in her, but suddenly even that sensation took too much effort. Her body released her from that need. Nothing left to do but stop.

She felt him coming closer.

Not yet. It was hard to focus the thought at him. I’ve had enough of pain. Let me die before you take my memories.

Kalo came closer and she felt him stand over her. She braced herself. He would finish her with one bite to the back of her neck, at the narrowest part, where her skull joined her spine. It would hurt but it would be quick. Better than feeling the ants that were already investigating her wounds.

Blood from his jaws dripped down, falling on her face and on the side of her mouth where her jaw hung ajar. She tasted it with the edge of her tongue. She drew a sharper breath. Sweet torture. Her eyes flickered open.

The big drake stood over her. Light touched him, gleaming him black and then blue. A river pig hung limp from his jaws. The blood dripping onto the side of her mouth was warm. He had brought his kill here to devour while he waited for her to die. The smell of it was intoxicating. She moved her tongue in her mouth, tasting life one last time.

He dropped the pig right in front of her.

Eat that.

Her incredulous response had no words.

Eat that. If you eat, you might live. If you live, I might find a mate worthy of my size. Kalo wheeled away from her. I will make a kill for myself. I will be back.

She felt the sodden earth under her shudder as he leapt into flight. Stupid male. She was too far gone for this. It was of no use. She opened her jaws slightly and the fresh blood ran over her tongue. She shuddered. The dead pig was so close to her, reeking of warm blood. She could not lift her head. But she could snake it along the ground on the length of her neck, and open her jaws wide enough to close them around its water-gleaming hindquarters. She closed her jaws, her teeth sank in and blood flowed into her mouth. She swallowed it, and her hunger woke like a banked fire does to wind. She lunged, snapped, and tipped her head up to swallow. A short time passed, and she lifted her head. She had dragged the pig closer with her first assault on it, and now she could scissor off chunks and gulp them down. Blood and life flowed back into her.

Pain came with vitality. When the pig was gone, she shuddered all over. Small creatures that had crept closer under cover of darkness suddenly scattered back into the rushes. She rolled onto her belly and then gave a roar of pain as she lurched to her feet. She walked to the river’s edge and then out into the icy water. Ants and beetles that had come to feast on her wounds were washed away in the water’s chill rush. She felt the acid’s hard kiss and hoped it would sear some of the lesser wounds closed. She groomed awkwardly, too swollen and stiff to reach some of her injuries. And the worst one, that still held part of the damned Chalcedean arrow, forced her wing out at an odd angle. There was less pressure from it since the second piercing and it seemed to be draining still. She forced herself to move the wing and felt a rush of liquid down her side. She screamed her fury at the pain to the night, and night birds lifted from the trees and a passing troop of monkeys fled shrieking from the river’s edge. Good to know that something still trembled in fear of her. She staggered from the water and found a less trampled place among the tall rushes and fern fronds and lay down to sleep. Not to die. To sleep.

That’s good to know. His thought touched her before she felt the wind of his wings sweep past her. He landed heavily, and the gelid earth quaked beneath him. She smelled fresh blood on him; so he had made another kill and fed himself.

Tomorrow morning, I will hunt meat for you again. He stretched out his body casually beside hers and she knew a moment’s unease. This was not the way of dragons. No dragon brought down prey for another, nor did they sleep in proximity to one another. But his eyes were closed and the stentorian breath of his sleep was regular. It was very strange to have him so close to her. Strange, but comforting, she thought to herself, and closed her eyes.

...

Day the 6th of the Plough Moon

Year the 7th of the Independent Alliance of Traders


From Erek Dunwarrow, former Keeper of the Birds, Bingtown, presently residing in Trehaug

To Kerig Sweetwater, Master of the Bird Keepers’ Guild, Bingtown


Master Sweetwater, I send this sealed missive by a bird released from my wife’s own hand from her coop here in Trehaug. I write of a matter of great concern to all of us.


I trust you to remember that I was your apprentice once, and that from you I learned my standards of honesty and integrity. I am now married to Detozi Dunwarrow, long known as an excellent and honourable bird keeper here in Trehaug.


This day as I approached Detozi’s coop to deliver her noon meal, I heard and then saw a bird in distress, a messenger bird tangled and hanging by his foot. I climbed out into the smaller branches of the pathway and was able to cut him free. Imagine my surprise to recognize a bird I had myself raised in Bingtown, one that was subsequently sent as an unmated male to the coops in Cassarick. Although he was unbanded, I assure you that I recognize this bird. In my care, he was known as Two-toes, and was unusual for hatching with a missing toe. Even more shocking was when I confirmed what I recalled from the red lice plague.

This bird had been listed as one of those that had perished in the Cassarick coops.

The message fastened to his leg was not in a Guild tube, the bird was badly fed and in poor health, and the careless manner of the fastening for the message tube was responsible for his becoming entangled.

I believe he was sent from Cassarick to Trehaug clandestinely, and only by happenstance have I intercepted him. Please do not suspect me of ill-doing; I have concealed the bird in my home until I can bring him back to full health. He deserves that at least. I have preserved the illegal message packet unopened. I beg you to tell me to whom I can entrust it here, for I fear to hand it over to the very villain who has constructed this deceit.

If you find fault at all with how I have handled this, I beg that all blame fall upon me and not Detozi. This is none of her doing, but only mine.


CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Blood Price

Selden jerked awake to the pounding on the door. Shaking with alertness, he rolled from the divan to the floor and then, surprising himself, to his feet. He had no time to wonder if he was getting better or if his fear was overriding the weakness of his body. He heard the key turning in the lock.

‘Lady Chassim, we must enter, on the Duke’s orders. He wishes the dragon-man brought to him immediately!’ A man shouted harshly as the door swung open.

The lady herself strode from her bedchamber, an unfastened robe hastily thrown over her nightdress and a stone vase balanced over her head in her two hands. The set of her mouth said she would battle first and then find out why. Selden had taken to sleeping with a stick of kindling on the divan beside him. His was a feebler weapon than hers, but he gripped it tightly, intending to defend her to the death this time.

The two guardsmen fell back at the sight of her fury. ‘Lady, please, we are sorry to disturb you. Our orders are absolute. We must bring the dragon-man to the Duke. His need is dire and he cannot wait longer.’

Dizziness swooped through Selden’s brain at those words and the stick of wood tumbled from his nerveless hand. Here was death, barging in the door in the middle of the night. ‘I am not ready,’ he said, to himself rather than the guardsmen.

‘He is not!’ Chassim snapped out her agreement. ‘Look at him. He coughs and spits gobs of yellow mucus. He has a fever and his piss is the colour of old tea. He is thin as an old horse and he shakes when he tries to stand. You will take this to the Duke? Sick as he is, you will take this diseased creature into his presence? Woe betide you when you are his death!’

The younger of the two guardsmen blanched at her words, but the grizzled older guard only shook his head. He looked haggard, as if sleep had long abandoned him. ‘Lady, you know well we are dead if we return without him. Disobeying the Duke’s order will only ensure that we are tortured to death along with our families. Stand back, Lady Chassim. I have no desire to handle you roughly, but I will take the dragon-man now.’

Vase in hand, she stepped boldly between him and his abductors. She set her feet and Selden knew she would fight them. He staggered in a wobbly circle around her and into their arms before she realized what he was about. ‘Let us go quickly,’ he told them. They seized him by the arms and as they hastened him out the door, he called over his shoulder, ‘For a few days of respite, may Sa bless you.’

‘Sa, the god that fucks itself,’ the younger guardsman sneered.

The heavy vase landed with a crash on the floor just behind them. ‘You didn’t lock her in?’ the older man exclaimed in horror, but there came the sound of a slamming door. ‘Run back and lock it,’ the guard told his junior in disgust. He kept his grip on Selden’s upper arm and half-dragged him until the youngster caught up with them to seize Selden’s other arm.

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