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48
Anzi lasted all of three more hours before her spite-fired endurance ran out. Searching for dangerous serpents in the Adaraat’s sands with not a hint of a scale or tail was fast becoming torturous. She wanted to go back. Netra would definitely be awake now, and she would be hungry. Anzi had already guessed Bisset wouldn’t lift a finger to feed her and had asked the guard on duty to tend to her instead, but she dreaded to think what the colonel might do if the hatchling irritated him with her insistent screeching in the meantime. Or spoke.
She should go back, but she hadn’t decided whether to report the encounter with the old witch crone in her head along with what she had learned from it. Should she? But if she did, that would be one more reason for Bisset and everyone else to keep an even closer eye on her. She didn’t want to attract more attention. She needed to fade. But if she didn’t report the incident, she had no excuse to return to the outpost ea
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Called by the Dragon 49
Netra was furious for a week. She ate well enough, but every time Anzi reached over to pick debris between her scales or examine her claws for chips, she snapped at her, teeth clacking furiously and head twitching this way and that like an angry bird. There was no soothing the young dragon and even when Anzi and Bisset arrived on the back of the colonel’s dragon outside the city of Lumenera, Netra was still refusing anything but the most necessary of handling. There was no way for Anzi to explain why she had had to leave without warning for the desert expedition. It was one of the few times she wished the hatchling would communicate again despite the risk of alerting the colonel. She and Bisset stood at the front gates of the city before a small retinue of men who had come to receive them, mostly soldiers wearing the colors of Lumeneran scarlet. The elderly man at their head wore military garb as well, making her narrow her eyes in skeptical question. T
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Anzi had the distinct feeling she wasn’t supposed to be here, but she hadn’t been about to reject an explicit invitation from the man who’d just told her that her traveling companion had been personally responsible for the death of his entire family. Colonel Bisset could discipline her later all he liked, but she was not going to look Governor Hosef in the eye and pretend her suffering would be greater than his had been. She couldn’t begin to imagine. She had never been close to her family, partly because she’d left them at a young age and partly because she had fostered that distance herself in her determination to follow what she’d thought was her destined path. But this…She didn’t need to have experienced fellowship in pain to sympathize. And blame. This was the kind of carnage the Empire wrought, the kind that no one spoke about back in the Capital because everyone was taught that the annexed lands all held hands and danced around in a ring together
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“Stop squirming, Netra.” Netra, of course, didn’t listen. With a furious clicking of her talons and a raising of her spines, she fought her way out of Anzi’s grip and leaped to the ground, leaving the soldier rubbing her scraped chin. The dragon immediately trotted off to inspect the market stalls, tail swishing behind her like a cat’s. “Those things need a trim,” Anzi muttered. “And you need to stop eating. Gods, you’re fatter than a palace pet.” She was. It had been adorable at first, and Anzi had been powerless to resist over-feeding her whenever the dragon screeched and wailed for more (what if she really was starving?). But the gluttonous habits were clearly too much. Instead of walking, the reptile wobbled and waddled on her clawed feet, belly hanging down between her legs with an almost comedic curve. But she was longer, too, and stood taller at the shoulders. Anzi had been toting her around in her a
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Netra had yet to stir. Whatever they had done to her, she wouldn’t awaken anytime soon, which was just as well because her furious screeching would have only made things more perilous. And in this cramped run-down stable she had followed the men into, there was no room for sudden movements and ill-advised sounds. Her eyes darted between them both, watching their hands and feet as she kept her hands close to her sword hilts. “You’re not going to cut us down before I crush this one’s neck,” the man holding Netra assured her. “Wyrms and dragons are the same when it comes to this. She’s small enough it makes no difference. One good wring, and…” She knew it. He didn’t have to remind her. Her eyes rested on the limp dragon’s form that trailed from the man’s grasp, and she had to swallow back a hissing command for him to hold her up properly so as to not strangle her. With his hand gripping around the base of her skull like that, she feared
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Five minutes in and they had made no progress beyond introductions. This was going nowhere. “The Emperor’s weakness.” “I don’t know. Pass.” “The secret to taming a dragon.” “Obviously, I don’t know. Pass.” “The names and abilities of every dragon rider?” “I already told you I’ve only been at this for a month,” Anzi snapped. “I haven’t met but one actual rider, and as for the Emperor, other than finding out he’s not one to trifle with, I don’t know anything substantial about him.” “This is useless.” The bearded man paced back forth across the stable. “I’ve asked you a hundred questions you have no answers to!” “Ask the right questions, then!” she fired back. “You’re looking for a magic potion to fix all your problems. It’s not going to happen. I can’t fight back yet, probably not against Bisset and certainly not against the
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The coastal cities had always been more diverse than landlocked ones, but Anzi’s knowledge of the various cultures within the continent was stunted by the degree of their relevance: if it didn’t help Imperial soldiers fight and defeat their enemies any better, they never learned it. All she was certain of was that in seaside Lumenera, humans still reigned at the top of the hierarchy while inhumans took up their positions at the foot. At least in the Imperial City, outright discrimination and abuse of the mixed-blooded was outlawed. Here, they had no such protection. So why was this girl so fiercely loyal to the men who cared so little about her? Anzi stared down at the urchin from earlier, unimpressed by the ferocious scowl on her pointed face. She was skinny and small, swimming in the gray and brown rags she wore, and her badly cut dark hair was cropped so close to her head it couldn’t even curl. Dirt smudges and bruises all over, to
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Anzi wasn’t used to giving orders, but that didn’t mean she lacked the ability. She was firm, cold, and gave away no uncertainty. And while she had lost all respect for the colonel upon learning the truth, she mimicked his countenance and sophistication now because if there was anyone who could exercise authority with immaculate precision, it was the colonel. She would leave no room for Isvan and his men to doubt her, not when she was the one shouldering the heavier end of the yoke. She didn’t like Isvan. She didn’t like any of them. They were the exact opposite of what she needed, made passionate by their bitterness and acting on the suppressed, violent wrath of a generation trod on by outsider overlords. What she needed was determination and cold composure, patience and frigid logic. How could she work with men like these? She had no choice. This was all she had. And the farther out from the Imperial City and the cradle of the Empir
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The central plaza. It was a pretty sight, or must have been before it became the chipped and shattered ruin it was now. White stone blocks made up the bottom, rimmed with opalescent stones that went around it in a wide circle. In the middle of it all was a broken fountain, flowing with water but half of its upper stone tier sheared off. And that was it. Nothing else. Besides the gentle burbling from there, Anzi heard nothing else, not a whisper nor a breath. Of the hundreds gathered around the plaza and hundreds more trudging forward to join the crowd from behind, not a single person made their voice heard. It was so eerie a shiver trickled down her back. Never had she encountered such a silent crowd. There was only the distant sound of stray dogs barking, a rustling of the wind against cloth awnings set over market stalls, the rush of the waves against the sands along the far pier… “Your governor is being retired today,” Bisset annou
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