Page 54 of Of Steel and Scale

“Don’t tell me,” he said dryly. “She just applied the comment to me.”

All males, Kaia corrected.Have brains, just don’t use. Think with breeding stick.

This time, the laugh escaped, though I managed to raise a hand in time to at least keep it partially smothered.

Damon raised his eyebrows again, an unspoken demand I share.

I grinned. “She basically just said that all males, no matter the species, think with their cocks rather than their brains.”

“Well, she’s not wrong.”

Rarely am, she said, somewhat smugly.

I smothered another laugh, then touched Damon’s arm and moved out. The air whisked lightly around me, and there was the faintest hint of murkha within it. It was a weed cultivated and smoked via clay pipes by some of our more distant trading partners, a practice that had never taken off in Arleeon, mainly because murkha was difficult to grow here and expensive to import. My father did have a supply, but it was only ever used during trade negotiations.

If these invaders were using it without any sort of restriction, then maybe they grew it, or at least came from the same region as those who did.

I moved into the other tunnel, my steps light on the ground and every sense alert. The stirring air strengthened, but it brought with it no sound, and no suggestion the men we’d seen remained at the Beak. That wasn’t really surprising—the Beak wouldn’t hold ten men, let alone the birds they probably flew in on.

The closer I drew to the Beak, the more the faint strains of pre-dawn light infused the shadows. I slowed my pace and kept my flames at the ready. The distant sound of crashing waves and the occasional cry of a kayin greeting the rising of another day remained the only sounds to be heard.

The tunnel swept left and made its final rise toward the Beak. I pressed against the wall, eased forward the final few inches, and then peered around the corner.

No soldiers, no armed birds, and nothing more than footprints on the gritty ground.

Tension remained, however. I’d been in too many close calls with Mareritten ambushes to believe the quiet emptiness of this place.

Kaia?I asked.Any magic?

Not sense.

I guess that was something. I flexed my fingers against my sword’s hilt, then moved on. The breeze stiffened almost immediately, filled with the salty scent of the sea. I remained close to the wall, my gaze scanning the opening ahead and the curving rock that gave this place its name. I knew from past adventures up here there was very little room for anyone to stand either side of the entrance—the cliff face was simply too sheer. Even a capra would have trouble scrambling up and down the thing.

But these invaders were flight capable, and that meant they could easily perch somewhere above and simply swoop down the minute I poked my head out.

Which I did, of course, but carefully, quickly checking either side before twisting around so I could study the dark sweep of mountain above me. Nothing.

With the sword still held at the ready—though it was unlikely to be much use against these birds given how close I’d have to get to the things to damage them—I stepped out. The wind tugged at my braid and the roar of the sea far below filled my ears. Dawn had broken across the skyline, her long plumes of red and gold tinting the gathering clouds and promising a stormy day. The Beak’s stone—once a smooth, shiny black—was heavily scarred, the trenches littering its length at least six inches deep.

Birds heavy, Kaia said.We not damage that badly.

No.I squatted next to one of the newest-looking scars and ran my fingers around their edges. They were V-shaped, the wider end—where two claws were—scored deeper than the tip that possessed one solitary shorter claw.

Land hard, no hover, Kaia commented.Front claws sharp, slice deep.

I slid my fingers into the toe section of the cut. It was a good hand deep.Their claws have to be pretty damn strong to slice through stone like this.

Claws not natural. Birds not natural.

And if they could damage the Beak like this with so little effort, what could they do to Esan’s walls? The Mareritt, for all their magic and sometimes superior technology, had never breached the city. These creatures, twisted and strengthened by magic, could well achieve in days what the frost scum hadn’t been able to in centuries.

I rose, looked toward the Black Glass peaks, and caught the faintest glimmer of gold. I swore and lunged toward the cavern’s mouth, pressing close to the shadows that still hugged one side of it, my gaze sweeping the color-wrapped skies for any indication I’d been spotted. A few kayin hung on the breeze, lazily circling; if there’d been any threat or unusual activity, they wouldn’t be doing that. They were in general timid souls.

I sheathed my sword and then swung my pack around and undid the small long viewer lashed to its side. I didn’t use it all that often, because we generally relied on scouts rather than these things. They had a limited focus range and tended to take a while to refocus when moving from point to point, which made them a little dangerous in tight situations needing a fast response.

After dropping my pack, I edged partially out. The gold glimmer remained where it was, bright against the black of the mountain behind it. I raised the long viewer to my right eye, closed the left, and adjusted the small ring halfway down the tube until everything jumped into focus. It took me a minute to find the source of the glimmer and... Vahree save us, these things weremonstrous. Not in size so much as form. I might have already seen them in the images Kaia had shared, but somehow physically seeing them made them all the more real. All the more dangerous.

This one appeared to be tethered with a chain attached to the chest plate holding the wide leather saddle on its back in place. It wasn’t trying to escape, and it probably could—claws that could carve such deep trenches into the Beak could surely shatter chain just as easily, however thick. It was also wearing some sort of hood over its head and eyes, and it appeared to be rocking lightly back and forth, as if moving to some invisible tune.

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