Her whole body ached—not with a physical ache, but with the deep, bone-weary ache that comes from not enough sleep and too much stress. Serene yawned and stretched her arms towards the sky, which was just beginning to show a hint of gray. After all night spent talking to Fir, sketching until her pictures had been as close as his memory of the felsic stone, and carving and acid-treating a piece of granite until it resembled the porous rock, all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and sleep.
But instead, she was following her husband and his two friends through the streets of the city. And there was no promise of rest for the entire day. They couldn’t afford to rent horses. And besides, horses never cared for shifters, anyway.
Maybe once they were out of the city, she could shift and catch a wind current. It wouldn’t be the same as sleeping, but at least she’d be able to relax.
The gate was closed. At this time of the morning, no guards stood outside it. They’d have to knock at the guardhouse door and ask to pass through the gatehouse. She just prayed that neither of the guards Kil had run into at the prison when they’d freed Snitch would be there on duty tonight. It was unlikely, but still a small possibility. The greater possibility would be that the guards wouldn’t even let them through—sometimes that happened, either because the guards were suspicious, or the city was on lockdown, or, most likely, they were on a self-important power-trip. Those were the types she hated the most, the pompous idiots who’d done the bare minimum to get into the city guard just because they couldn’t swing it in the national army, and who took it out on everyone who didn’t have their level of authority, just because they could.
The hair on the back of her neck itched. Before Serene could turn, a gloved hand seized her upper arm.
Serene yelped and whirled around. Eras stood behind her, lips curved into a smile. Two Knocken stood on either side of her, crossbows drawn back with iron-tipped bolts set to the strings. Serene’s throat tightened. Wyvern bolts.
“Serene?”
She glanced sideways at him. Kildare’s forehead wrinkled in worry, and he took a few steps back towards her, hand going to the knife at his belt. Serene glanced from side to side. The wide street was empty, and she doubted that anyone was watching through the guardhouse arrow slits.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Eras asked quietly. “And tell your slekka to stay back, or I’ll slit his throat.”
Serene raised her hand to Kil. “It’s all right. Just let her speak to me.”
Kildare stopped advancing, but now she noticed that he was flanked by Snitch and Fir. Snitch’s two knives had already been drawn, and he was balancing them by the blades, ready to throw them. Fir’s hands were by his sides, but his fingers splayed wide, and if she concentrated, she could hear the slight hissing crackle of sprouting grass at their feet.
Eras sidestepped, so she stood almost between Serene and the rest of the crew. “You’re leaving the city.”
Serene nodded.
“Why?”
“We’re following the puzzle box.”
Eras’s eyes flashed. “It will not please Basalt that you let it slip away. And after the trust we put into you.”
“We have it under control,” Serene said calmly. She toyed with the fringe of her scarf to hide her trembling fingers. Why was Eras here, now? Surely if she’d wanted to confront her, she could have done it back at the inn.
Eras glanced significantly at Kildare. “And this one? Is he under your control?”
Serene felt a flush of anger across her face. She glanced over at Kildare just in time to catch a slightly wounded look flick across his face. Her breath caught. No. Did he think…
Of course he did. She could see the worry in his eyes. He was questioning her again, even if he didn’t say it. He was thinking about everything she’d said in the past few days, trying to find something that would prove she wasn’t loyal to him.
But she couldn’t deny it. Not without revealing to Eras that she’d been lying last night, when she’d asked for the key to to Kil’s slave collar. Serene dropped her gaze, grinding her teeth.
Eras chucked her under the chin. “Be a good girl and bring back our prize, Serene.”
Serene pulled in a breath. She didn’t know quite what tipped her off—maybe the way Eras’s voice had intensified. Maybe the way her dark eyes widened a little. But she suddenly knew that Eras wasn’t talking about Kildare, or even the puzzle box.
Eras knew about the felsic stone. And she wanted it.
Eras’s lips lifted in her twisted smile. She turned and stepped back into a side street.
Serene stared after her, heart pounding, and barely felt it when Kildare touched her shoulder.
“You all right?” he asked.
“What? Yes, I…” Serene clamped her mouth shut and just nodded. She put her hand on Kildare’s wrist and squeezed it gently, then smiled at him.
He looked down at her, worry drawing wrinkles between his eyes. “What did Eras mean?”
Serene blew out a deep breath. “I told them that I’d been persuading you that it was too dangerous to run from them. Lying was the only way to get the key. They had to think that you wouldn’t dare run off.”
Snitch snorted. “Sounds pretty close to what you have been saying, from what I hear.”
Serene shot him an angry glare.
“You think I haven’t heard?” He laughed. “You’re not good at this, are you, Serene? First seductress mission?”
“Stars, I wonder why Mock never fully committed to your relationship,” Serene said between clenched teeth. “You’re such a pleasant person.” She looked up at Kildare.
He shook his head, glaring at Snitch. “Enough of that.” He leaned down and kissed Serene’s forehead. “Let’s get moving.”
She trailed after him, stomach churning. Would they ever truly be free of the shadows cast over their marriage?
# # #
As the day wore on, Serene welcomed the times Kildare asked her to shift and scout behind them to make sure they weren’t getting too far ahead of Oak’s group. She welcomed the change from the hot, stuffy jungle they were slogging through. Up above the canopy, high enough that it would be unlikely that she’d be spotted, the breeze was cool and the sun warm on her back.
As the sun sank toward the horizon, she skimmed the tops of the trees and dropped through the creaking branches to find Kildare, Snitch, and Fir all gathered at the side of the road, waiting for her. Here, under the thick canopy of trees and vines and other vegetation, it was already quite dark, even to her dragon eyes. She shifted and brushed her braid back over her shoulder, then shivered. Without the sun, it was colder, too, and the humidity made it feel like a slick of cold water coated her skin.
Without being prompted, Kildare reached into his pack and handed her a scarf, one of the larger ones. She smiled and shook it out, then wrapped it around her neck and shoulders. It wasn’t heavy, but the fabric did lessen the chill.
“They’re about a half mile behind us,” she told them.
Kildare nodded. “All right, they’ll have to make camp sometime soon. I scouted ahead while you were airborne, and the next mile or so of road has little campsites a bit off the road for merchants and travelers. None of them are occupied. I’ll keep an eye from the air to see which one they chose, and then message you, Serene. We’ll wait until they’re settled for the night, then I’ll strike from the air.” He looked back and forth between Snitch and Fir. “This is the first time we’ve done a job outdoors like this, so we’ll have to be careful. I want you guys to jump a couple of guards, steal their armor, and stay with Serene. I’ll cause as much chaos as I can in wyvern form so that, hopefully, no one looks twice at you.”
They nodded, almost in sync.
Serene grinned. “And once everyone’s attention is on you, Fir, Snitch, and I will go into the camp. Fir and I’ll get the puzzle box and switch out the real felsic stone with the fake one while Snitch keeps watch.”
Kildare glanced over at her and smiled wryly. “Please don’t get yourself stabbed while you’re doing it.”
She bumped him gently with her elbow. “Don’t worry about me.” It was a silly thing to say—Kildare would worry. He always worried.
He squeezed her hand gently, then motioned for them to get off the road. Kildare went to the center of the road and quickly shifted.
Her heart thudding in her chest, Serene watched Kildare rise into the air, wings ruffling the underbrush around them. He disappeared from view, the treetops hiding him from her sight, his dark scaled form blending into the deepening sunset sky. It felt so good to see him able to shift again.
She blew out a deep breath and reached into the pouch belted at her side, squeezing the fake felsic stone in her fist. Then she followed Snitch and Fir into the jungle.
They crouched behind a tangle of vegetation, listening. Before long, she picked up the buzz of voices. Within a few minutes, Oak’s caravan came into view, several of the Alfaren men carrying lanterns. Serene sank down to her belly and pushed herself back into the underbrush, watching with half-closed eyes to make sure the light didn’t reflect off them.
No one seemed to notice. The group—about a dozen guards, half mounted on horses and half walking—passed without comment. A small, enclosed wagon came next, with a couple more guards riding beside it and a barrel-chested Alfaren that, from Fir’s inhaled breath behind her, Serene guessed had to be Oak.
There was a quiet space on the road for a few minutes after Oak’s wagon passed. Serene stayed down, waiting for Kildare to give her an all clear.
A dark figure passed their hiding place. Serene narrowed her eyes. This Alfaren wore dark greens and browns, and he moved confidently in the dark without a light. Clever of Oak. A less judicious group of highwaymen would’ve followed immediately, and this guard would’ve been able to see them and warn the main group.
The figure paused, head swiveling back and forth. Serene wondered if Fir and Snitch could see the Alfaren, or if she was only able to make him out thanks to her dragon eyes. She guessed the latter—even she could barely see the figure. She slowed her breathing, put her hand on one of her knives.
The Alfaren finally moved on, his steps so smooth and silent that Serene quickly lost track of him.
It was full, pitch black in the jungle now.
They’re camping in the third clearing. Be careful. There’s a guard in dark clothes who is skulking around the perimeter of the camp.
Serene smiled. Got it. Be careful.
You too, my fire.
She reached back and tapped Snitch and Fir on the shoulders, whispering, “Can you see?”
“Like a blind pig in a tarred leather sack,” Snitch grumbled.
The phrase made her laugh.
Snitch snorted out something that might have been a quiet laugh of his own.
“I can see a little,” Fir said. “But probably not as well as you.”
“I’ll guide you, then. Kil says we have to be careful of the perimeter guard. He’s not carrying a light.”
“Of course he’s not,” Snitch muttered. His hand settled on her shoulder. “Lead on, dragon girl.”
Serene crept forward. She could feel the drag of the two men behind her as they tried—clumsily—to follow, Snitch’s hand on her shoulder and Fir’s hand on Snitch’s shoulder.
Somehow they managed to make it through the jungle without getting seriously injured, although she heard hissed curses from Snitch a few times as thorned vines scraped across his face. They passed the first two cleared camping sites without an issue. The way became easier as firelight began to flicker through the trees. Serene led them in a half-circle around the camp and stopped several dozen yards from it, watching. A few tents had been set up, and they had parked the wagon right in the middle of the camp, close to the firepit. Figured. They’d want to protect Oak’s possessions from attack as much as possible.
In the dancing shadows on the other side of the camp, near the entrance, she caught the flickering movement of a dark figure. So the scout was still patrolling. She wondered if he’d keep that up all night.
She grasped a tendril of wind and sent a message to Kil. Ready when you are, love.
Within a minute, a loud roar came from above them, and a gout of flame flickered in the sky, illuminating a sleek scaled body.
“Shifter!” someone yelled in the camp.
Two of the Alfaren closest to Serene cursed and dropped the pieces of tent they’d been setting up. Kildare dropped low and blasted the edge of the camp. A tent went up in flames, and a few embers flickered along the edges of the trees. Serene held her breath, but the flames quickly died out in the foliage, suppressed by the humidity and the thick greenery.
A few arrows bounced off Kildare’s belly as he took flight again.
“Serene!” Fir hissed.
She started. She hadn’t even realized Snitch and Fir had disappeared. Fir staggered back into the treeline, the limp body of an Alfaren guard slung over his shoulders. Snitch followed, dragging another body, this one trailing a thin stream of blood across his throat.
Serene’s stomach turned. She’d almost forgotten how cold-blooded Snitch could be. She turned away, eyeing the camp again. Most of the guards, and Oak, had clustered to the far side of the camp, beating out the burning tent and the bits of vegetation that had managed to catch. Others stared into the sky, bows at the ready… Her throat clenched. Two of the guards held crossbows loaded with heavy iron-tipped bolts. Wyvern bolts. Short bows and even some longbows didn’t have enough power to penetrate a dragon’s hide, but heavy, gear-cranked crossbows…
She heard Kildare roar again and frantically reached out to the wind.
Kil! They have crossbows!
The rhythm of his wings changed, and he wrenched out of his dive at an awkward angle, clipping trees overhead. Flame poured across another tent.
“Fire!” someone shouted.
Serene heard the whistle of bolts like a funeral dirge.
Snitch gripped her arm and shoved her forward. “Move!” he hissed.
She darted forward. It was a clear shot to the wagon, and she made it in a few seconds, her lock picks already in her hand as she hauled herself up to the door at the back. It was the work of a moment to work the picks through the lock. The door clicked open. She glanced over at her shoulder. Snitch and Fir stood at the corners of the wagon, watching the rest of the camp, the guards’ dark leather armor hastily slapped into place over their own clothes.
She slipped into the wagon. A moment later Fir joined her, flicking his fingers so that a ball of werelight appeared over his palm. The wagon had chests and crates of things piled in it, with a narrow aisle in the middle. Her heart skipped a beat. What if Oak hadn’t packed the puzzle box in here?
That’s stupid. He’s not going to carry something like that on his person. She moved to one of the top chests, squinting at the lock. It wouldn’t take much to pick it, but they’d have to choose carefully—no way would there be enough time to get through all the crates before Kil’s distraction was over.
Fir gripped her arm. “Can you sense it?” he asked.
“What?”
“Kil could sense it when he got close. Not much, but the thread of ley is there. You should be able to do the same thing—it’s a shifter trait, right?”
She nodded, closed her eyes, concentrated. A sense of stinging warmth brushed at her skin, and she swiveled to face it, ran her fingers down a stack of boxes until she could feel the sensation brushing her fingertips. She opened her eyes. Fir was already tearing the stack apart to get to the chest, buried halfway down. She picked the lock as he did so, and as soon as he moved the last box, the chest’s lid popped open a bit.
She pushed the lid open and felt a pang of terror. It was full of folded, raw silks, something that a trader would be transporting. Serene calmed herself and dug into the silks, the slippery material sliding past her fingers until she came into contact with a smooth, carved wooden surface. The puzzle box. She wrapped her hand around it to bring it out, and the tingling sensation she’d felt earlier exploded full force into her body. It was no longer pleasant. Serene ground her teeth together, swallowing back a shriek of pain. She wrenched her hand away.
“Sorry,” Fir whispered, grabbing the puzzle box. He used his thumbs to flip two vine carvings out of place, slid the side panels a quarter of an inch out of place, and twisted the top of the box off.
Serene raised her eyes, impressed.
Fir plucked out the felsic stone and held it out to her.
Serene pulled the fake stone from her pocket and held it out next to the real thing. They looked nearly identical. In the werelight, Fir’s teeth flashed gold as he grinned at her.
“Well done, you,” he whispered, shoving the felsic stone into a leather pouch around his neck.
“I’m just glad your memory is as sharp as Kil promised it was,” she said, nestling the fake stone into place.
Fir spun the box back into its locked position. “Yeah, me too.” He winked.
Serene snorted out a soft laugh and shook her head. They quickly smoothed the piles of silks back into place, closed the box, and restacked the crates on top of it. Fir extinguished his werelight, and they ducked out of the wagon.
“Did you get it?” Snitch whispered.
Fir patted his chest, where the bulge of the leather pouch was just visible in the firelight.
Serene glanced into the sky and squinted, trying to find Kildare. Had he been hurt in that last dive?
“Serene! Come on!” Snitch hissed.
Serene dashed after the other two, across the clearing. She could still hear the crackling of flames, the panic of the others as they struggled to put out the fire and search the skies for Kildare.
A heavy flapping of wings came from overhead. Serene turned in time to see Kildare swoop down, his fire pouring over another tent. Most of the Alfaren yelled and ducked, afraid of being caught in the claws of the dragon, but Serene could clearly see, silhouetted against one of the other burning tents, one Alfaren raising his crossbow.
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