By the time the magic wore off, or however that worked, Tammy had five thin, pink, inch-long fingers on what could honestly be called her right hand. It was amazing — more than that, it was disturbing.

  My best guess was that, from her wrist up, she had bones like those of a small child. Only, it all emerged from a fully adult, well-built-from-years-of-swordplay forearm. It wasn’t like it all just narrowed off to a normal, if mismatched, child’s hand — no, instead it all kind of stretched, so that the effect was something like a child’s fingers spaced too far apart on something trying to be an adult’s hand.

  Despite how creeped out I was by the sight, I was very proud of Kira, and I couldn’t help but be happy for Tammy. Zabra had woken up from the commotion, and she was beside herself with joy for her friend-slash-fellow-thrall-slash-subordinate. The way she hugged Tammy was heartwarming in a way that I wished I could hate. But for all that, Tammy’s half-regenerated hand was just freaky to look at.

  “Look!” Tammy said, wrapping her fingers around one of Zabra's. There was about half a damn inch between each. “I can grab things!”

  I couldn’t look. It was just too weird.

  Kira, of course, had only positivity to give, because she was some kind of angel of mercy. One that I had unwittingly snatched up, stupidly thinking there was a single bad bone in her body. If I ever figured out how to free my thralls, she’d be the first.

  I thought about that, and concluded that, yes. She’d be the first. Before even Herald. Frankly, I wasn’t sure that Herald would mind being enthralled, even if she could. And Mak… Mak might even beg me to take her back. She’d told me more than once how much easier her life was now, and how much happier and more relaxed she was as my servant than she’d ever been as a free woman. She’d even insinuated that betraying me was, in a roundabout way, the best thing she’d ever done. She had a deep-seated dependency for me, and I didn’t think this world had the kind of therapy that would be needed to wean her off it.

  I’d still try. If I ever found a way, I’d try to free her. And if she came to me after being free for a week, or a month, or a year, and asked me to take her back, well… time would tell how strong I was.

  The next morning, Herald, Mak, and Tam still hadn’t woken up. Kira somehow managed to get some broth in them without drowning them, but it was clear that we were unlikely to get anything done that day. It was only a matter of time until someone broached the subject.

  “So,” Ardek said, trying to sound casual. “What do we do now? Kinda stuck for a bit, aren’t we?”

  “Kind of, yeah,” I agreed. “Not much we can do until they wake.”

  “Right,” Ardek said, looking around the small group. He looked a little anxious, I thought, and the reason for that quickly became clear. “Look, I’m just gonna say it. I like the ladies and Tam, but you’re all closer to them than I am, so I know this ain’t anything you want to think about, but… what if they don’t? Wake up, I mean? Like, what if they take days and days?”

  Everyone was silent for a long while as our guts tied themselves in knots. “Then,” I finally said, “we’ll have to figure things out. I suppose I’ll have to fly them back to the city. Have Soandel arrange to have them taken care of until they recover. And once that’s done, I’ll escort you back south. To Lady’s Rest, maybe.”

  I could see the protest in their eyes already. Val would never agree to be separated from Tam, nor would Maglan, Sarina, or Marvan want to be away from Herald. If I tried to stash them in the village, they’d make their way back to the city on their own the moment I turned my back.

  “Right. No, bad idea,” I said before anyone could challenge me. “I’d have to take you all back, wouldn’t I? We’d just have to find a safe place for everyone. Soandel or Yakamo’s estates, I suppose.” As an afterthought, I added, “And I’d have to make doubly sure that the city doesn’t fall. I showed the Happarans a bloody bad time, but it’s been a week since I checked on what’s happening with the war. Mercies only know what kind of fresh trouble might have sprung up. I guess I’ll be checking in on Barro and Onur for a bit.”

  “Are you leaving, Mistress?” Tammy asked from across the space.

  “Hmm? Why would I—?” I began to say. Then it struck me, at about the same time as Kira softly asked, “Did you not tell them?”

  “It may have slipped my mind, with the excitement and all,” I confessed.

  Tammy didn’t ask. She just waited and watched with patient curiosity. I was sure that in her mind, if she needed to know, then I’d tell her; if I didn’t tell her, then she didn’t need to know.

  “Well… I can—” I hesitated as I considered what this was going to do to Tammy's worshipful little mind, then just went for it. “I can step into your mind. Sort of. Experience the world through your senses. See what you see, hear what you hear, feel what you feel. That’s how I knew that you and Zabra were in trouble.”

  Tammy, more or less predictably, stared in wonder, then broke into a huge, surprisingly pretty grin. And then she began to cry, probably from some sort of religious ecstasy. It was Mak’s reaction dialed up to 11.

  “You may tell Zabra, and no one else,” I told her, and she nodded fervently, too overcome to speak.

  That was quite enough for me. I settled down, closed my eyes, and sent my senses out to find Barro… who must have still been asleep despite it being past sunrise, because while I could find him, I couldn’t latch on. So I tried Onur instead. I had more luck with him, joining him in the middle of a conversation.

  “... can’t be sure they won’t surround the city,” he was saying. He knelt at a low desk across from the lord mercantile Parvion Sardin, his supposed master. He sounded terribly tired, making me wonder if he hadn’t slept. “I must, again, recommend that we evacuate the country estate and the surrounding farms to the city.”

  “And I must again tell you that I understand your reasoning, dear Onur, but we have to consider appearances,” Parvion said. “If it becomes known that one of the Council has evacuated his estates, especially when those estates are north of the city, it could spark a panic! Riots! How are we to recruit more soldiers and sailors if the people of the city see me acting as though we’ve already lost?”

  “Lord Parvion,” Onur said, and the world became dark as he rubbed his face, “with all the respect and gratitude you’ve inspired in me over these many years, my role, my purpose, is to keep you and yours safe above all else. Our fleet is trapped, our so-called allies will not respond in time, and the Wolves are spread too thin already as it is. We simply don’t have the troops to defend the northern territories. If we do not evacuate the estates, we will lose everyone!”

  “A compromise, then?” the lord mercantile said, and the softness of his tone was a testament to just how much he respected his head of security. “We evacuate the young and the old. Those who could not ride hard for the city or the forest if necessary. It may still be noticed, but I should think it would be seen more as prudence than pessimism.”

  Onur sighed. He didn’t sound happy, but not defeated, either. “As you say, my lord. I’ll arrange it. And with your permission, I’ll make sure we’ll have as many riding animals at the estate as people.”

  “Excellent suggestion. Now, can I convince you to please get some sleep?”

  “Once the order has gone out, my lord,” Onur promised, and I withdrew.

  “Fucking hell!” I swore. “Mercies and fucking sorrows! What now?”

  “Draka?” Val asked from where he sat, preparing ingredients for that weird breakfast porridge of theirs. Avjilan was already lighting the fire outside.

  “Fresh fucking trouble!” I spat. “I had to say it, didn’t I? Onur wants Parvion to evacuate his estates to the city. Sounds like there’s a clear and present danger of raiders between the city and the forest, and they were saying something about the fleet being trapped. What am I supposed to do now?”

  “Mistress, may I?” Zabra’s voice took me by surprise. I hadn’t realized she’d woken; she’d been in and out, and we’d been letting her sleep as much as possible. When she asked permission to speak her voice was hesitant, and still a little weak.

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  “Go on,” I told her, more gently than I’d intended, especially considering what I’d just heard. It was annoyingly hard to remember to be firm with her when she’d nearly died trying to protect me. Even if I hadn't asked her to.

  “I would recommend checking on things in the city personally. We’re safe here, and you’re fast. You could be back by nighttime if you wished. I… I hope things are alright, and that Mister Onur is only being overly cautious, but it would be best that you know before taking the ladies Drakonum back there.” She paused for a moment, then added, in a small voice, “And I would beg you to let Kesra know what happened, and that I’m alive but won’t be back for a while. And… there’s a woman…”

  “Samara?” I asked.

  Zabra’s eyes widened. “Yes. I… care for her. If you could ask Kesra to get word to her as well…”

  “I could do that, yeah,” I said, almost without thinking. Getting to the city wasn’t a bad idea. I did need to know what was going on, and the call of my hoard, that itch that could only be scratched by seeing with my own eyes that all was well, was getting stronger.

  But then I took a moment to consider. I was well aware of the effect Zabra had on me. On almost everyone; the only ones I suspected to be immune were Herald and Mak. And possibly Tammy; she deferred to Zabra without question, but not in the same way most people did. In her case it felt more like a desire to obey a chain of command, and she'd clearly decided that Zabra was above her in whatever hierarchy might exist among my servants.

  The point was, I wanted to be sure that I wasn't just agreeing because I’d been around Zabra too much lately. And then I decided that I had no objective way of determining that, so I decided to get a second opinion.

  “Val? What do you think?” I asked, turning to the one person there most likely to reject out of hand anything Zabra suggested.

  “There are few reasons not to,” he said. “Unless you do not want to miss your siblings waking up, or expect something to happen. The door could be left open, even. Nothing we could not handle has been seen within the walls. And if there is truly an urgent threat to the city, it would be best that you know about it. It may be possible that you could intervene.”

  “Yeah?” If Val agreed… “Kira,” I said, turning to the little healer. “Could I bring Zabra and Tammy with me? If things are really bad I’d want someone to keep everything together.”

  “I would not,” Kira replied, looking at the two. “Tammy may be well enough, but Zabra… too tired, and I do not like the sound of her chest. And…” Kira hesitated then switched to Tekereteki, “you should not separate them.”

  “Why not?” I asked in the same language.

  “Zabra would be alone here, in all ways that matter. She has no one here who truly cares about her wellbeing, save you and I. I fear she would not do well.”

  “Right,” I said, switching back to Karakani. “Fair. They stay, then.”

  Tammy smiled gratefully at that. It warmed me much more than I was comfortable with.

  It took a few more rounds of reassurances that they’d be fine before I felt up to leaving. My instinct — not to be confused with Instinct, who was all for a trip to the hoard — told me to stay and watch over my family until they woke, no matter what might be going on in and around the city. But soon enough, after many reassurances that they’d take good care of Herald, Mak and Tam, and after they’d all promised to not go far from the shrine and to keep their eyes open around them and on the sky when they went outside, I let myself be convinced.

  Before I got on my way I took Kira to the nearest Rift to recharge. Healing Tammy had drained her, and I wanted her in top shape in case something terrible happened. With so many Rifts so close it was a quick thing, practically routine except for one small detail.

  Kira put her hand into the Rift, as she always did. She drew in its power — she could only manage a small trickle compared to me, but that was fine. A human could only hold so much. Except that trickle wasn’t quite as small as it usually would be.

  “Um, Draka?” she said anxiously as the power continued to flow into her. “Mistress? What’s happening?”

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Does it feel wrong at all?”

  “No? No, it feels good. A little bit exhilarating, really. But it’s… this isn’t normal!”

  She didn’t stop, though, and I didn’t tell her to. I watched in rapt fascination as she kept drawing, and drawing, and the Rift shrank and grew sluggish, and then, without warning, the last dregs of it vanished into her. She collapsed, gasping, to one knee, but there was no explosion. She didn’t pass out. But for several seconds she glowed faintly, all of her, like her very flesh was infused with magic the way it had been before she healed Tammy. Then all that magic drew in toward her heart, following her veins, until it gathered in a little ball like what I’d see when someone was using their magical Advancements. And then it was gone.

  “Are you alright?” I asked, more curious than anxious as she pushed to her feet.

  “Never better,” she said, her voice filled with wonder. “What was that?”

  “I think you— No, Mercies be kind, you just drank a whole Rift! Are you sure you feel alright?”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling. Then that smile turned into a giggle, so pure and delighted that I had no choice but to believe her. “Yes! I feel amazing!”

  It felt strange, going off on my own again. Lonely. It was a bit like when we returned home from that first expedition I went on to the north: I’d been around my friends for long enough that only an hour into the flight I missed having them around. But I kept reminding myself that it was important to know what was going on in the city, and how good it was going to be to spend some time with my hoard. And Conscience reminded me that Barro had those translations from Tavia and Ramban, and I hadn’t seen Alanna or the people at the inn for a while, and…

  That kind of thinking really helped, and with everything I had to look forward to in mind, each mile went by just a little bit easier.

  I’d planned to go to the city first, but the further south I got, the stronger the call of my hoard got. I’d been away for so long; the desire to just stop by quickly became impossible to resist. Besides, Herald and Mak were currently asleep, and I was worried! I could just lie down for a quick nap and take a peek into their dreams, and then I could finally rest assured that they were all right. It would be two weights off my shoulders in one visit!

  Before I knew it, I’d subtly changed course. I flew to the cliffside entrance of my lair on auto-pilot. Setting down by the little tree felt like coming home after a much, much longer absence than the one I’d just had. It wasn’t even the longest I’d been away, but it felt like it’d been months rather than just over a week since I saw the place. And as I Shifted and descended to my nest and my hoard, my worries felt less oppressive, and more manageable. Something weird was going on in Malyon? All right. Karakan was in peril? So be it. I was a goddamn dragon! It wasn’t that it didn’t concern me, but why should I be concerned? I needed to focus on real problems. Problems like the fact that my two closest friends, my two most beloved servants, my sisters, had been so overwhelmed by magic that they may have been at death’s door, and now they wouldn’t wake. And problems like the fact that I had no less than two dragons thinking that they had a right to even a square inch of my territory, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that number increased. What was some ancient mystery and human politics compared to that?

  I really should visit my hoard more often, I decided. It helped put things in perspective.

  Once I reached my hoard and Shifted back, I didn’t bother with the lightstone. I let the mingled scents of gold and silver wash over me, and went and laid down on the carpet of coins; it was a thin carpet, but a carpet nonetheless. Once I’d settled in I changed my vision back to normal, and all I had to see by were the few small patches of glowslime along the ceiling and walls of the passage. Then I closed my eyes, relaxed, and allowed myself to drift off.

  What I found in the dreamscape was nowhere close to coherent, and nothing short of terrifying. Herald’s dreams were a mess of flashing images, sounds, and all kinds of impressions that didn’t follow any kind of logic or make any kind of sense. Mak’s were no better. On top of that, when I approached either of them in the dreamscape I got hit by a jumble of emotional impressions, mostly fear and confusion, but also joy and surprise and confidence and every other thing I might imagine them feeling, following each other or even overlapping to the point of being entirely overwhelming.

  Worse than that, they didn’t seem to be staying put the way they should. The stars that were them in the dreamscape, their mind or souls or what have you, seemed to be moving as chaotically as their senses and emotions. It was as though they’d come partially untethered from their bodies, and some unseen gale threatened to tear them loose entirely. If that happened… well, I had a pretty good idea of what it would do, and my immaterial being shook at the thought.

  I couldn’t leave them like that. It was terrifying and heartbreaking; the state of them, the complete lack of anything resembling a coherent consciousness, threatened to plunge me into despair. But what could I do? There had to be something — I was a goddamn dragon! And not just any dragon, but one that could worm my way into people’s hearts, into their minds, into their very souls. I could shape their dreams. I could shatter their selves and rebuild them in a form more pleasing to me. I had to be able to do something about the chaotic mess that had become of my sisters. But what? And how?

  I knew where to begin, at least. That was simple. I did the same thing I would if someone was having a nightmare: I tried to inject all the calm and love that I possibly could into their swirling dreams, hoping that if I couldn’t fix them, I might at least be able to soothe some of the fear that tinged everything.

  And maybe I did. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I thought I felt them settle at least somewhat on the emotional plane, even if they were no more still and what they saw and heard made no more sense than before.

  So I knew where to begin. And then what? What the hell did you do about someone’s soul coming untethered? It wasn’t like I could just glue them back into place. All I had to work with was shadow, brute strength, and raw bloodymindedness. The second didn’t apply, and I wasn’t sure about the first. In the dreamscape, there was no shadow, because there was no true light, only what I saw as stars in order to make sense of everything. With no shadow to latch on to, I’d never tried to use my magic. I’d never had a reason to.

  Well, now I did.

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