Page 203 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

“Does she do this with all her victims?” He laughs, but there is no missing the way his body stiffens with apprehension. All she’d have to do is open her jaw and snap, and he would be gone.

“Depends what mood she’s in.” I wink at Caindra, enjoying our little secret.

“May I?” He holds up a tentative hand before placing it on her snout.

There is an odd, peaceful look in her eyes. I think Atticus meant something to the Goat’s Knoll barkeep, whether she admitted it or not, and she’s happy to see him alive. “The orange dragon is her mate. The green one is their child.”

“Truly magnificent.” Taking a step back, a pensive look takes over. “Do you know what happened to Gracen? The mortal baker who—”

“I know who she is. And yes, she and her children are safe, as well as all the other children we rescued from Cirilea.”

Atticus’s shoulders sink as he closes his eyes. “Thank the fates.”

“The fates had nothing to do with it. Thank Romeria,” Jarek snaps. “She put herself in grave danger to save them. She lost someone important to her.”

Atticus dips his head. “I am sorry to hear that.” He sounds sincere. Stealing a glance at the young woman—who is she?—he says, “If you see Gracen, please tell her I have thought of her often and that I am sorry for any pain I have caused her.”

As much as I want to deny him that, there is genuine ache in his eyes. Regardless of his crimes, he does care for her, and he did protect her.

That’s why I nod.

Atticus rejoins King Cheral, his mood more somber than when we arrived.

“We have a war to plan for and a sister to find, so unless there is something pressing, we will leave you to lead the men west,” Zander says.

“We will see each other soon.” King Cheral’s mood, on the other hand, seems lighter, as if buoyed by relief.

They wait as we return to our respective dragons. Valk takes off with a terrifying screech, Xiaric following closely after. But Caindra lingers. It’s as if she knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my mouth shut.

“Oh, hey, Atticus, by the way, Caindra also goes by Bexley!”

The dumbfounded look on his face has me laughing as we soar through the sky.

The aptly named Northmost port along the western coast of Islor is even smaller than Lord Rengard cautioned. I can see why he worried about the town bursting at the seams with so many of Cirilea’s people seeking refuge.

The tension in my limbs slackens as we descend from the clouds. By all accounts, it looks as though Malachi’s army didn’t veer from their path south. The port is cluttered with ships, more moored in the waters around. The town is intact, if not bustling.

We direct the dragons to land on the outskirts, far enough away that panic doesn’t erupt should the people filling the alleys and streets look up.

“This might not have been the best choice in locations.” Elisaf watches Xiaric, whose attention is locked on the nearby field of cattle. “When did they eat last?”

I shrug. “They come and go. Who knows what they grab and where. But we’ll be back soon. Please do not eat the villagers’ livestock!” I call out to Caindra, who answers with a hot puff of air across my face.

The seven of us band together and head for the main gates.

“You said this mortal who helped you knows the captain of that ship?” Zander walks with purpose.

“Seamus, yes. He knew who it was.” I just can’t recall. There was too much happening that day.

“Then let us hope he is still here.”

I hold up the bag of jewels I collected from Ulysede’s vault. “Trust me, he’s still here.”

It took Abarrane two intimidating stares and one question to find out where all the sailors converge. The guards at the gate posed no resistance, far more concerned by the three dragons lingering in the field outside than who they were allowing in.

“This is where they are.” She points at the tavern sign that reads The Screaming Siren. Inside, a fiddler plays a rowdy tune, earning plenty of cheers and jeers that carry through the windows.

“They have a sense of humor, I’ll give them that much.” Jarek pushes open the door, ducking as he passes the threshold.

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