This is a terrible idea, Conscience declared as I headed out to sea.

  I was a couple of miles above the patchy clouds— three or so — and I was hauling a rock that couldn’t weigh much more than two hundred pounds. I figured that would be a good size for a test run; small enough that I could carry it across Mallin if I wanted, from the port at Happar to the ruins in the north, but large enough that I should be able to tell if it hit or not.

  It might take a few attempts to get any real effect. I’d only tried divebombing once before, and that hadn’t worked very well; the body I’d used had hit far in front of my targets. I’d switched to horizontal impacts after that, and had gotten pretty good at it, but I wasn’t about to line myself up for those massive crossbows of theirs. I didn’t know what their firing arcs looked like, but they were close enough to each other that I doubted I could approach one without getting shot at by several others. From the top down, though? I very much doubted that any of them would be able to get me as long as I didn’t go lower than, say, five hundred yards.

  What’s even the point of this? Conscience asked as I reached a position that should’ve been right above some of the big, fat transports. For some reason she’d been pissy ever since I made my mind up, and it was getting bloody old.

  I dunno? Piss them off? I snapped. Make their lives harder when they’re fucking with my city? Those transports have either soldiers or supplies on them. I doubt they’d be happy to lose either.

  And you think dropping a couple of little rocks on them is going to be enough to sink one?

  I mean… this? Probably not. A nice one tonner or three? Sure! Maybe I could get a couple of barrels of lamp oil once I have proof of concept?

  That’s terrible! Drowning them isn’t enough for you? Conscience’s tone and accompanying emotions were scathing: anger, disgust, and incredulity all so strong that I couldn’t help but feel them myself. But it wasn’t like I wasn’t used to strong emotion from my two headmates by then. I just took the feelings and redirected them from myself toward the fleet below us.

  I don’t see you fighting me for control, I snarked. Then I folded my wings and dropped.

  From my three-miles-or-so of altitude it would take minutes before I was close enough to confidently drop my rock. I figured I’d need them; I barely had my wings out, but I used what little surface I exposed to the air rushing past to constantly correct my course, making sure that I was precisely above my chosen target. I still had at least half a mile to go when I was completely satisfied that I was on course, the ship’s deck expanding evenly in every direction as I dropped despite me making no more corrections.

  The ship was one of the smaller transports, but it was still a wide-hulled whale of a boat with two masts and two banks of oars, one above the other. I aimed for its center; nothing else made sense. When I could distinguish the little dots of sailors scurrying about the deck, doing Mercies knew what as they presumably saw me coming, I released my rock and opened my wings, tendons and flight muscles screaming as I turned my stoop into an upward arc and finally a loop, letting momentum carry me as I looked down to survey my handiwork.

  I’d hit! That was a viciously pleasant surprise. A small chunk was missing in the lines of the ship, on the right side of the front. There were probably proper nautical terms. I didn’t know. Nor did I care; I was far too smug about hitting on my first try. Nowhere close to where I’d aimed, sure, but that was a minor detail.

  All right! I cheered to my companions. Concept proven! Time for a proper rock!

  No fire, Conscience demanded. She sounded sooky, but she still didn’t actually try to fight me. If you even go look for a barrel of oil or anything like it I’ll—

  Fine, all right. I didn’t mind agreeing; I was feeling much better about just about everything right then, and I hadn’t wanted to go look for anything flammable anyway.

  “We have no need of fire,” Instinct stated with smug superiority. It was her first comment all day. “It could not compare to dragon flame anyway.”

  Right, I agreed, turning back to shore to find myself a bigger rock.

  When I returned half an hour later with a nice half-tonner, the ships were moving slightly. Clever of them, I thought. Someone down there adapts quickly!

  Not that it was going to help. The transports wallowed more than they swam, and at the speed I was going when I dropped my rock, it impacted my prey in no time at all. When I was oriented and going at a speed where I could look back down, the greater part of one of the ship’s two masts was laying across the deck besides a dark patch that must have been a hole.

  Bet you anything that rock went straight through! I said, roaring out my triumph. Want to hang around to see what happens?

  No, Conscience huffed.

  “No need. We will see the effect on our next attack,” Instinct contributed wisely.

  I missed my next run, which was annoying, but I’d been targeting one of the smaller, faster ships so I wasn’t too disappointed. I’d wondered how much harder it would be — a fair bit, as it turned out. But I hit it with the next one, and it didn’t take long for the galley to start listing.

  That’s the word, right? I asked. Listing?

  I am not participating in this, Conscience said sullenly.

  “Listing is right,” Instinct said. “I know that because you do.”

  Right. Makes sense. Feels like that transport should be, too.

  “It is lower in the water, I think,” Instinct said hopefully. She might have been right. It was hard to tell without getting closer. It didn’t matter much, though. Having lost a mast, it was the slowest ship in the fleet, and no matter how the others milled around it I could pick it out easily from the air.

  The next time I returned I was carrying the biggest chunk of rock I could carry, almost impossible to hold and heavy enough that I was relieved to fold my wings and drop. This time I wasn’t going to risk missing, and I let myself get low enough before I released that I could have sworn a bloody giant spear sailed past me as I pulled out of my dive. I was low enough that I heard the massive, splintering sound of what must have been well above a ton of rock passing through a ship at over two hundred miles per hour, and when I looked back there was a plume of water rising dozens of feet above the deck.

  This time there was no doubt. The ship rapidly sank. Then the front bit — the bow? — suddenly rose into the air, as though it were trying to keep its head above water, before the whole thing vanished beneath the waves in a mess of broken wood, boxes, barrels, and flailing sailors. And while I was gone, the galley I’d hit had gone from listing to lying on its side in the water.

  Chalk up two for the home team! I cackled as I swooped low over the fleet, screeching and roaring.

  They’ll get picked up, won’t they? Conscience asked, sounding worried. I don’t think most of those poor bastards are to blame for anything.

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  I mean… yeah? Probably. Maybe? They must have, like, nets or rope ladders and such. I wasn’t too concerned. Many of the soldiers I’d killed at the front hadn’t been to blame for much of anything either, but that hadn’t stopped me, nor would it in the future.

  It took another three runs, of which two were good hits, to sink another of the transports. But grim satisfaction could only push me so far; carrying all those tons of rock out to sea, miles up in the air, had really taken it out of me. At that point I had to call it a day.

  I needed food, water, and a rest. I also had to decide if I wanted to return to Malyon. Or, no, that was the wrong way of looking at it. I absolutely wanted to do that. I wished I was there already. I wanted to go back to the inn, collect the spare lightstones and the translations of Sekteretesh’s letters that Barro had promised to prepare for me, and fly at top speed back to my family so I could watch over them until they woke up. I needed to talk to Val about what I might do for Tam, and make sure that Zabra and Tammy were healing properly. And I wanted to be there if Mother returned.

  It wasn’t a question of whether I wanted to return to Malyon; it was a question of whether it was responsible to do so. And as long as I had no less than five people through whom I could keep tabs on things there, and Instinct had near-permanent residence in Tammy’s head, I couldn’t honestly say that it was. The situation in the city was too uncertain.

  I headed to the Admiralty. With rest and time I was sure that I could do some considerable damage to that fleet. I just had no idea if there was any real point to it, beyond me getting my rocks off — Hah! — by putting some fear into the Tekereteki Navy.

  At the Admiralty, I was met with cheers. I’d barely landed in the spacious courtyard before young Mister Dratal, a clerk there and one of my biggest fans, came running out to greet me. “Lady Draka!” he said breathlessly. “We’ve sent for the lady admiral. She is at the Palace at the moment, but I am sure that she will come here with all haste for an opportunity to speak with you. And, if I may, on behalf of the navy of the Great City of Karakan, thank you! You really gave it to those bastards!”

  “Oh?” I asked. After the day’s successes, satisfaction and amusement mixed to do wonders to salvage my mood. “You know already?”

  “We’ve had a steady stream of messengers from both the lighthouse and the lookouts on the cliffs, Lady Draka! And may I say, dropping boulders on them from the sky like you did? Brilliant! Sinking their supply ships? Inspired!”

  “You most certainly may,” I replied magnanimously.

  It was maybe ten minutes before Yakamo and Miranna, her constant bodyguard, appeared at the yard. During that short time I was kept entertained by a procession of grateful Admiralty staff and officers, most of whom were all smiles and praise. Sure, plenty of them stank of fear, and there was an air about some of them like they were only trying to curry favor with me or with their superiors, but overall I got the impression that I was fairly popular with the navy. At least on the day I’d sunk three Tekereteki ships.

  Yakamo, when she approached me, was as blunt as ever. “Lady Draka,” she said. “Where is Lady Herald?”

  “Still in the north, Lady Admiral,” I replied, taking no offense at her tone.

  “I see,” she said, scowling. “We have missed your assistance.”

  “You’ve had it today,” I countered.

  “That only makes your previous absence all the more vexing.”

  “My ladies,” Miranna the bodyguard said, looking around warily. “You should have this conversation in private.”

  Yakamo kept scowling, but I was sure she meant nothing by it. The more I met the woman, the more convinced I became that she simply had one of the most extreme cases of resting bitch face I’d ever seen. Case in point, there was nothing but sincerity in her voice when she said, “You’re right. But you really oughtn't speak so freely in front of others.”

  “Apologies, my lady,” Miranna said, stepping back a pace with an expression that told me that she was going to be exactly as free with her speech as was necessary to keep her mistress from doing or saying something truly unfortunate.

  “Is there anywhere private we can go?” I asked. I didn’t point out that I’d have trouble getting into her office.

  “I had a space prepared some time back, for whenever Lady Herald brought you back,” Yakamo said. “This way.”

  I couldn’t say if the lady admiral’s bodyguard was trying to be subtle and failed with the way two lazy steps put her between us, or if she didn’t care enough to hide it. The same went for the appraising glance she threw my way. One thing was clear enough: neither of us had missed Yakamo’s phrasing. Miranna was worried. As well she should be! Her mistress had just implied, to my face, that a human had the power to dictate where I should go! That she was right didn’t make much of a difference; Miranna couldn’t know how hard it was for me to deny Herald anything, but she was very well aware of the general disdain and lack of fear I held for the Council. And on top of that, Yakamo was now simply walking away from me rather than walking at my side, like she expected me to follow obediently. With humans, that was a simple power play, and her delivery was excellent. With a dragon? Mercies only knew what might happen.

  That, and I knew she was suspicious as hell about Yakamo’s relationship with Herald, and I didn’t know what the lady admiral might have told her. This seemed like an excellent opportunity to do something about that — I just needed more information to decide what exactly that ‘something’ might be.

  I decided to at least try and be kind, and give Miranna some warning. “No worries,” I murmured, ducking my head low so only she would be able to hear me clearly. “But we will talk. All three of us.”

  Miranna twitched in surprise as she walked. I imagined that suddenly hearing my voice from a foot behind her ear didn’t do much good for her nerves. But she answered without turning her head — a nod and a soft, “As you say.” Then she sped up to put a hand on her mistress’ shoulder, slowing her so I could catch up and we were properly walking three abreast.

  The space Yakamo had prepared lay near the water, some distance away from the next closest building. It looked like it was normally a magazine or small warehouse of the sort that might have been found anywhere near the harbour: a two-story building built from blocks of Karakan’s ubiquitous tan-and-pink sandstone and with a terracotta tile roof. But it didn’t need to be special. The doors were tall and wide enough for me to enter without ducking too much, and with the shelving removed the was inside spacious enough that I didn’t feel cramped. All-in-all the choice felt thought-through and considerate, and that was good enough for me.

  It also had a very much not-dragon-sized door at the other end of the building, which just happened to be open and right behind where Miranna placed herself and her mistress. I decided not to take offense. She was in charge of Yakamo’s safety, after all, not my feelings.

  “You will want to discuss prize money,” Yakamo declared. “But first, where is Lady Herald? I’ve worried about her.”

  Slightly off to the side, where Yakamo couldn’t see her without turning her head, Miranna blinked slowly. I imagined I might have heard her sigh if I’d been close enough.

  “I do like the sound of prize money,” I agreed. I’d never heard of the term until just then, not in this context, but it had the word ‘money’ in it. I was naturally intrigued. “But I agree that Herald is a good place to start. And while I understand that she’s your employee, Miranna needs to be part of this conversation.”

  “I don’t see why. She’s perfectly reliable and performs her duties to all expectations, but she’s still a servant.”

  “One that you speak very openly in front of.” I kept an eye on Miranna as I spoke, and she moved slightly — a subtle shift of her balance. Out of nerves or in preparation to do something, I couldn’t say, but she certainly didn’t seem to like the attention. She’d just have to deal with it, as I turned my head to make it perfectly clear whom I was talking to when I said, “Miranna. What are your honest thoughts on your lady’s relationship with my good friend Herald?”

  Miranna held herself admirably still, but in the small space her fear became unmistakable. Her eyes flitted between Yakamo and myself, as though she sensed a trap. “I’m not sure that it’s my place to—” she started, but I cut her off.

  “It is when I ask you directly,” I said, putting some steel in my voice. The scent of her fear increased, not that she showed it, but I didn't allow myself to feel bad about that. I needed an answer from her, one I believed, so that I could decide how to handle her. If anything, the fact that she could still feel fear was good! It meant that I had more than one option if I decided she couldn’t be trusted. “Tell me, now,” I commanded. “What do you think about the relationship between Herald and Lady Admiral Yakamo?”

  “I…” Miranna still hesitated. The cause of that hesitation became clear when she sighed sharply, bowed her head to Yakamo, and said, “Forgive me, my lady,” before turning back to me. “I would normally not think anything of it. The heart wants what the heart wants and all that, even if what it wants in this case seems to be a young lady barely more than a third of her age, whom she barely knows, and when she’s shown no interest in ladies before. But…” She turned back to the lady admiral, who was wide-eyed, stunned, and, I was pretty sure, absolutely mortified. “Lady Yakamo, the way you go on about her is worrying! Not only because it is unhealthy to obsess over anyone like that, but one of these days you’ll say something where the wrong person can hear, and then people will talk, and Mercies only know how that will affect both yourself and Young Lady Drakonum!”

  “I— I— I—!” For once, all Yakamo could manage was an outraged stutter. “I’m— Lady Herald— how dare you?!”

  “My lady, think about it!” Miranna pleaded. “Every meal you enjoy, you wonder if Young Lady Drakonum would enjoy it too! When you visited the Citadel and found that little lookout point nearby with the pergola, you asked if I thought you should bring her there. When last you looked at jewellery you even bought a few pieces which I know you will never wear, but which would fit a certain young lady perfectly. Yet you can’t have met her more than four or five times, and spoken to her for at most an hour in total! Your wellbeing is my entire purpose; how could I not be worried?”

  As the lady admiral sputtered something along the lines of “she could be my grand-daughter!” I relaxed. I didn’t mind if Miranna thought that her mistress was having some kind of mid-life crisis accompanied by a sudden sapphic awakening. As long as that was all she thought, and there was no reason to think she’d run her mouth, I—

  I tuned back in as Yakamo said, “—not infatuated with her, I serve her! You’re not in love with me, are you Miranna? This is no different.”

  Miranna’s eyes went wide.

  Well, I thought. Shit.

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