When I got back to the central camp, the general was still not available. And I didn’t think it would be arrogant to say that I was a big enough deal that if Sarvalian didn’t drop everything to see me, whatever he was doing must have been pretty bloody important. The guards in front of his tent still offered, very respectfully, to see if he’d make time, but I told them not to; I didn’t want to cut Herald’s time with Mag short, and I had good company.

  The best use of my time while I waited was to take Darim for a short flight. She was a silent passenger, like always, but I could tell by the huge smile on her face when we landed that it had been immensely effective at raising her spirits. Then we passed the time just talking about anything except the war, while I checked in on just about everyone I could. That was something I’d started making a habit of; it didn’t matter that Instinct and Conscience both did the same regularly and surely would have told me if anything was happening. Being told that everyone was all right wasn’t the same as seeing for myself.

  But even seeing for myself that they were didn’t settle me the way it usually would. After only such a short time in the army camp, it was strange to see everything far from the front being so… normal. Barro was having a carefree conversation with some woman — a relative, possibly his sister, by how familiar they were with each other. Zabra was kicking the absolute shit out of some guy, and from the cold anger in her voice and the fact that she was doing it herself, it was probably personal. And in the north, everyone was just plodding along; Avjilan was telling everyone about a hunt he’d once been on, somewhere east of Vanar. He’d been hired to kill a jungle cat that had been terrorizing a village, and it sounded very much like a tiger with an Advancement or four. He was a good storyteller, too, and though everyone’s attention was perhaps a little less on their surroundings than I would have liked, they were relaxed and enjoying themselves.

  It was a relief to see, of course, but it also felt wrong, somehow. The city was on the brink of disaster, and yet people’s lives mostly just went on. I’d had the same feeling when we were still in the city; for months, I’d known that the war was going on, but when I was on the streets, or talked to someone about the war’s effects, it was mostly in terms of some products being hard to buy or a generalized worry about the future. There was no conscription for the army, no press ganging for the navy. There were the expected recruitment campaigns, the “Fight for your city and the freedom of your family! Three square meals per day and a pension!” kinds, but from the number of able-bodied young men and women I’d seen still in the city, their effect was limited. I couldn’t help but imagine that when conscription hit — and it would have to, soon — the shock was going to be brutal.

  Darim and I were talking about Captain Baldor, the officer she was involved with — he was thankfully still alive — when she suddenly fell silent, scrambling to her feet and saluting with a sharp, “Tribune!”

  “As you were, Watch Officer,” said Tribune Veretil. He looked much the same as he had the last time I met him, with his big, bushy eyebrows, except that his expressive face bore the same weariness I’d seen on Darim’s and so many others. “Lady Draka, it’s good to see you again. The general thanks you for your patience and hopes that you will join him in his tent. Although…” he eyed me skeptically.

  “I don’t mind meeting outside, if my size is an issue,” I said graciously as I got to my feet. “As you can see, I had a bit of a growth spurt recently.”

  “Clearly. Well, please come with me. I’ll inform the general.”

  Sarvalian, it turned out, wanted to speak with me in private, but he also didn’t want his tent to collapse from me accidentally turning around too fast. The general’s solution was simple; he had the whole section of the central camp around his tent cleared and sentries posted in a circle a good hundred yards wide around us.

  “This’ll have to do,” he said, sitting down on a small folding stool before me. He, at least, didn’t look quite as tired as everyone else. “Quite a few of the sentries will be able to hear us, but I’m sure they understand the value of discretion. That, and the consequences of gossiping about anything they might overhear.”

  “I’m sure,” I agreed. “I’ll be honest: I came here because Herald wanted to see her gentleman friend, and I thought paying you a visit would be the polite thing to do.”

  “Herald,” he mused. “That would be the tall Tekereteki girl? I remember you had her with you the last time you visited. Ah, and her friend would be the archer, the one I had moved to one of the sentry companies. I heard he was injured?”

  “Badly enough that he’s not recovered yet,” I confirmed. “Herald’s with him now in one of the healers’ tents.”

  “Too damn many…” he whispered, and his cool, collected facade cracked just the tiniest bit, letting a hint of fatigue show through as he stared at the ground. Then he gathered himself and said, “Yes. We’re preparing to send the wounded back, to be honest. Those who haven’t reached their first Major, at any rate. We can’t afford to have them here if… if we find it strategically favorable to relocate to the Sickle.”

  In other words, they were concentrating their healing where it did the most good: on the most effective soldiers. And Maglan, presumably, was not one of them. I wasn’t surprised; Herald reaching her first Major at the age she had was apparently amazing, practically unheard of, and Maglan was less than two years older than her. It made perfect sense not to waste resources on him that could be better used on a more experienced soldier.

  Knowing that, I made a spur-of-the-moment decision. “I could take him with me,” I offered. “If the army has no need for him at the moment. Our House has a healer on staff.”

  I didn’t mention that the lady of the House was a healer, too, though it probably wasn’t much of a secret anymore. And I had no doubt that between Mak and Kira, Mag would be on his feet in no time. I had no concerns about leaving him with the others. The man was a soldier, and I’d seen him fight; he wasn’t Tam or Val, but he wouldn’t slow anyone down.

  Plus, now that Herald had seen him injured, she’d be sick with worry if I took her back to the others without him. That probably affected me more than anything else.

  All things considered, asking Sarvalian was a pure formality. I’d already decided; Mag was coming with us.

  Happily, the general didn’t argue. “Is that so?” he said. “I don’t see why not. As long as the healers think it’s safe to move him, that is. May I ask how you’d transport him?”

  I gave an amused huff at his skeptical look and said, “Exactly how you might think. Don’t worry, general. I can be surprisingly gentle when I need to. Besides, Herald would never forgive me if I hurt him.”

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  Sarvalian chuckled. There was even a hint of real amusement in it. “Very well. I’ll have his commander produce a writ of leave, then. It’s the least I could do for you, after what you’ve done for my soldiers. I heard about the ford, you know? I would have even if Captain… I can’t quite recall the man’s name at the moment, but the way he wrote about you in his report was quite extraordinary. Anyway, I would have heard even if Tribune Verlan hadn’t passed on his report to me. Word spread among the troops faster than crotch-rot. Did wonders for morale when we badly needed it, so thank you for that!”

  “Yeah, no worries,” I said, warming inside at the sincerity of his thanks. “And, about that.. I need to return Herald — and Mag, now — to the north. But once I’ve done that, I’m coming back. I won’t promise any miracles, but I want to help out. If you’ll have me, you and your staff should think about where I’d be most effective.”

  The general’s surprise and delight at those words was beautiful to see. I never got tired of being appreciated, and when I told Sarvalian that I’d be coming back, he looked at me like… well, honestly, I don’t think any comparison would do it justice better than “a general being told he’s got a dragon on his side.”

  “I’m not going to insult you by asking if you’re serious,” he said, and there was a tightness to his voice, a restrained excitement that made me think that if he’d been entirely alone he would have been whooping and dancing for joy. “I understand that your time is valuable. But if you do find time to spare, if my soldiers can see the Black Lady join us for even a few days — the sooner the better — then I already have some things in mind that would buy you the undying gratitude of myself, my House, and the Karakani army. Yes, Lady Draka. Yes, by the Mercies and the Sorrows and all the gods, yes, we’ll damn well have you!”

  The army healers were not happy about my decision to take Mag with me, but they didn’t really have much say in the matter. They had too many patients, I had writs from Mag’s company commander effectively releasing him into my care, and Mag himself didn’t object. Mag, in fact, barely acknowledged the news.

  Mag was overall much quieter than he’d been when I left Herald with him. Enough so that it made me worry in a way that I couldn’t address with Herald in earshot.

  Herald was overjoyed. I’d been spot on about her being worried; it had been bad enough that Maglan was directly involved with the war, but now that he’d been injured, I doubted that I could’ve convinced her to leave his side. I probably would have had to command her, and I couldn’t see myself doing that — she’d’ve obeyed, but I would’ve felt awful for doing it. Now, once we got back to the others in the forest, it would be hard to get her to come away with me instead. For a while, at least.

  When we’d first talked about Maglan, months earlier, she hadn’t been in love. At least she hadn’t thought so. But absence, as the saying goes, makes the heart grow fonder — and familiarity breeds contempt. Who could say how she’d feel after a couple of weeks together?

  I caught myself feeling all too pleased at the idea of them drifting apart — if that was even possible anymore — and I forced the thought away. It was far too easy to fall into being a big, scaly, possessive bitch when she was involved. She deserved to be happy, and so did Mag. I should be cheering them on, hoping that they might have what Tam and Val did.

  I just couldn’t.

  But that didn’t matter. I wasn’t a slave to my feelings. I knew which motions to go through to be a good friend and a good sister, and if it wouldn’t come naturally, then I was going to play the part to perfection. I was going to give them every chance to be happy together, my own desire to have her all to myself be damned, and the first part of that was to make sure that Mag was alive and healthy and relatively safe. We wrapped him up in blankets, tying them loosely so they wouldn’t come undone in the wind. I explained to him what I was going to do, and that he could tell me if he ever felt uncomfortable so we could land and take a break. And then I flew him back to Karakan, going low and slow, holding him close, firm but gentle, so that he wouldn’t be too cold.

  It was getting late in the afternoon when we approached the city, the sun slowly dipping toward the ivory caps of the mountains. By mutual decision between Herald and me, we went directly to Soandel’s estate.

  We didn’t stay long; Nepria, the captain of Soandel’s guards, was waiting to welcome us on the ground, and Soandel was at home and had been waiting for our visit. It was a quick thing of introductions and mutual reassurances of our good health — except for Mag, of course, for whom Nepria quickly fetched a small healing potion to tide him over. Soandel had a new bodyguard, a tall man named Dratal — same as the young clerk at the admiralty who was so fascinated with me. This new man had a carefully trimmed beard, a top-knot, and that same air of restrained violence that most of the Council’s most trusted guards had. I didn’t get a good sense of him; at a glance he seemed friendly, with bright eyes and a small, constant smile, but he was professional enough to stay in the background.

  Before we left again, I checked in with Maglan to make sure that he was okay. We could have left him with Soandel, I was sure, but Maglan insisted that he was fine to keep going. Of course, the healing potion probably helped there; not only did it actually turbo-charge his healing, but since it was a strong alcohol base it was basically like taking several shots of straight booze one after another. I expected he’d be asleep soon enough.

  After a simple meal for the humans, and with Mag wrapped back up in his blankets, we made the long flight back to the others. It was already getting dark, but what difference did that make? Maglan had indeed fallen asleep almost as soon as we got off the ground, and for Herald and me, darkness was our element. We kept mostly to the day for the sake of everyone else, but with our advantages the night was our time to shine — so to speak.

  It took another two-and-a-half hours to reach the others; they’d made decent progress during the day and were well over halfway to our destination. Herald and I talked a lot — it really was great being able to talk without worrying about the wind — but not about anything consequential. I kept wanting to ask about Mag. Both if she’d noticed how withdrawn he’d become, and the other question, the one I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer to. Every time I was about to, I chickened out. Herald was so happy to have him along, to finally be looking forward to spending some real time with him for the first time in months, that I didn’t want to poison that. And while I tried to tell myself that it was out of consideration for them both, I knew that it wasn’t. I was just scared of how awful it would feel to know that I’d taken something nice of Herald’s and twisted it. Instead I just doubled down on my own hope that everything was and would continue to be fine. I very deliberately didn’t steer the conversation anywhere near Soandel, Yakamo, Sarina, or Marvan.

  Mercies, but I could be such a coward sometimes.

  There was some silent consternation when we arrived at the camp, which they’d set up on a small, mostly clear hillock. They hadn’t expected another person to join them, especially one that was injured, but nobody objected out loud. And I would have been shocked if they had; this was Mag after all, and nobody could miss how pleased Herald was with having him along. Besides, under Mak and Kira’s care, he wasn’t going to be injured for long, and he wasn’t going to slow them down or be any kind of burden; Maglan was no stranger to marching, and while he couldn’t shoot a bird out of the air as easily as Herald or Avjilan could, he was still an extra archer.

  Nor was there any discussion about sleeping arrangements. I’d wondered if they’d put Maglan with Avjilan, who had so far had a tent all to himself, but Mak didn’t hesitate. Once she and Kira were satisfied that they’d done what they could, Mak moved her bedroll into Avjilan’s tent, making room to put Maglan to bed in the one she’d been sharing with Herald.

  I was a little surprised by that at first, to be honest. My early conversations with Herald had made it sound like Mak was very uncomfortable with the idea of her little sister having a sexlife. It had been Lalia, not Mak, who helped Herald with contraception when she felt ready to take that step. But a lot had happened since then; my sisters had been through a lot, individually and together, and Mak had been forced to recognize that the little sister she’d raised for most of her life was not a child anymore. Side by side, they’d killed, suffered, and grown stronger than ever. And while Mak and Tam still occasionally treated Herald like the baby sister she’d been, it was always from a place of love and fun.

  Mak trusted Herald; that was all there was to it.

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