Derien Verstarjen’s stronghold was nestled in the one pass through the mountains. It had originally been built as a human military point when they had been forcing the Fae from the lands. The Fae had, however, not lingered on the other side of the mountain range but followed its curve toward the coast. The land on the other side of the mountains had become little more than a wilderness as a result, with a few small villages clinging on, isolated between the Fae forests no wise human would traverse and this intimidating mountain stronghold with its temperamental and murderous owner.The road up to the stronghold revealed its lack of use in the overgrowth of weeds and deep potholes. It would not have been an easy journey, even if the road had been well maintained, as it was steep and winding, picking its way through the ramble of the rocky terrain. We were forced to dismount the wagons to ease the load on the horses and make our way on foot, the stones slipping beneath our feet and dust

“It is a shame that there is no lady’s maid,” Tarragon observed. “A dragon’s braid is hardly the height of Fae fashion.” “You are doing very well,” I told her. In the polished metal of the looking-glass, I could see that she had started the braids over my ears, in several thicknesses, and was winding them back into each other. “Father would be proud.” She flashed me a grin in the reflection. “It is a pity you will not let me use any of the pins,” she returned her eyes to her work. “I understand why, but they would look fair in your hair.” I had explored the various dainty little boxes on the dresser and the drawers, finding pins and other trinkets that a lady would use to do her hair and decorate it, as well as the remains of cosmetics and perfumed water. In one drawer were miniatures of the family – a little folding frame. On one side was a very pretty woman with Aien’s eyes. To the other, a little boy whose face was lit with rosy-cheeked happiness. Aien - before the loss of his mo

I hurried to the room and removed the dress with a sense of relief, inspecting it carefully to ensure that no wine or blood soiled its fabric, before folding it and wrapping it again, as I had received it. I placed the package in a chest at the base of the bed, finding other clothing stored within. I packed up Tarragon and my possessions, anticipating that we would no longer be welcome at the stronghold. I hoped that Derien Verstarjen would not prevent us from continuing and braced myself for my sister’s ire when she returned to the room. Through the window, I could see the slow retreat of torches toward the village as the villagers made their way home. It took longer than I had thought before the door handle turned. “Dae,” Tarra said as she entered. “Put only what you can hold into this bag,” she held out a satchel of the type that our family used when riding dragon-back. “Tarra…?” I asked uncertainly as I took the bag from her. “Cara will take you to the village on the other sid

My stomach woke me, and I broke out into a cold sweat as I pressed a hand to my mouth fighting for control as I slipped from the bed. Caraway wasn’t there, his side of the covers rumpled, and his shoes gone from the floor.I located the chamber pot under the bed just in time to wretch miserably over it, my stomach too empty to produce more than bile. The effort collapsed me to my knees, however, and I sat sobbing and miserable, thinking over all that had occurred the night before and what it meant that Aien had not sent me the dress – that brief period of hopefulness painful in its dying. “Here,” Perditha had let herself into the chamber and held out an earthenware mug. “It is ginger and honey,” she told me. “It will help ease your stomach.”“Thank you,” my voice was hoarse, and my hand shook as I reached for the cup.“Some flatbread on your bedside, consumed before rising, should help,” she added. “You can purchase some at the market.”“I’ll do that,” I sipped the tea. It would be

“The strength of a dragon lies in dragon form,” I continued. “In human form, we have… advantages. Well, they do, not me so much. Dragons in human form are faster, stronger, and more immune to illness. However, those advantages will not be enough if Tarragon seeks to fight a monster in human form…”“The knights fight in that form,” Perditha observed. “And our hunters.”“Yes,” I agreed grimly. “And look what becomes of them,” I gestured towards the house. “I do not want that for my siblings.”“No,” she murmured. “No one would.”“I’m sorry,” I was contrite. She had, after all, lost her parents in such a way.“So, you join them on this campaign, because you fear for them,” she dismissed my apology with a flick of her hand. “That is a very brave thing to do. Many would prefer to wait at home, sheltered from the reality of the danger.”“I cannot do that,” I said grimly. “I know that I am precious little help, but even that is better than no help at all, is it not? I could not stand to lose