Page 23 of Of Scale and Blood

“It’s not one I’m willing to pay. The risk to life is too great and I?—”

Don’t want to lose you. He didn’t add that. He didn’t even look at me, in fact. But it nevertheless skimmed through my mind, clear and fierce.

Dhrukita, an inner voice whispered.

That inner voice was obviously shamoke starved. Dhrukita was a tale told to little girls growing up and a belief that while not everyone would achieve happiness in their lifetimes, everyonedidhave a perfect partner. A destiny of heart and soul, if you will, that echoed down through every life, every rebirth. It was also a belief I’d never really subscribed to. My mother and father were perfectly matched in almost every way and loved each other dearly, but there was nothing magical about their match. Nothing that suggested a meeting or merging of minds, or even the ability to catch one another’s thoughts.

Although even if theycould, it was probably nothing more than a bleed over from her strega abilities. It wasn’t unknown for those of us who could connect with animals to sometimes have it bleed over onto people. It might not have happened to me before this man, but that didn’t erase it from being a possibility.

I served up another bowl of pottage, then leaned back in the chair. “If war comes to this land, I will not hide in this palace and watch others fight, Damon. I’ll be in the thick of it. It’s what I was trained to do, and Iwilldo it.”

“I’m well aware of that, and I will be by your side every step of the way.” He paused, a wry smile teasing his lips. “Well, at least when you’re on the ground rather than astride your drakkon.”

“We have a far better chance of winning if those drakkons have a means of protecting themselves.”

He studied me for a second, then nodded. “I’ll scribe Angola and see what can be found in the old libraries. No promises.”

Angola was the largest of the floating islands in the Black Claw Sea near Zephrine, and the place where he’d been taught to use his blood magic. “But you will tell me if they do find a spell?”

Something flickered through his bright eyes. Annoyance, and something else, something that seemed akin to regret. Which was a very odd emotion in the circumstances.

“Yes, I will tell you.”

“Thank you.”

The words barely left my lips when a siren rang out—two short blasts.

My pulse rate stuttered briefly, then leapt into overdrive.

Esan was under attack.

CHAPTER3

I shovedmy bowl back onto the table, then ran over to the cabinet to grab my sword, bow, and quiver of regular arrows. The Ithican glass would be a better choice if the gilded birds were the source of the alarm, but I simply didn’t have enough of them.

Damon was shoving his feet into his boots, so I grabbed his sword and tossed it over once he was ready, then strode out, walking fast but calmly through the halls and down the stairs.

The guards had already sealed the main palace door, but they opened the smaller, hidden side entry for us. I slipped through, then paused, gaze scanning the orange-kissed skies, looking for but not seeing the gilded riders. Which might not mean anything if they were attacking the curtain wall rather than this upper one.

I ran through the courtyard, dodging both soldiers heading for their stations and the non-military personnel running for the underground shelters located in the deep caverns that ran under Esan, and took the metal steps two at a time.

“You don’t have to head to the wall?” Damon asked, obviously shortening his longer strides to keep beside me.

“Scouting teams are generally kept in reserve unless the attacking force is massive. If it was all hands to the wall, the two short blasts would have been accompanied by a longer blast.” I glanced at him. “I take it Zephrine doesn’t do that?”

“No, but we don’t have scouting teams as such, just regular military units with a specialist scout attached.”

Which made me wonder how he realistically intended to implement us becoming a part of those units. I couldn’t imagine him being a welcome addition to any fighting regiment, let alone me, given his death would probably bring their king’s wrath down on them. No matter what Damon thought of his father or how tenuous their relationship seemed to be, hewasstill heir.

The heavy metal mesh yetts—which were basically a metal gate—had already been swung into place over the building’s windows and half deployed over the entrance itself. The guards swung the remaining door open as we approached, then locked it fully down once we were through. We hurried on, our footsteps barely even registering against the babble of voices and the noise of lockdown procedures being implemented.

The war room’s shield—which was basically a solid piece of metal that rose at an angle from the floor and locked into place above the war room’s entrance, providing not only an additional barrier, but shelter for the guards and arrow slits through which they could fire—hadn’t yet been deployed but would be the minute any attack swept this way.

The war room itself was a hive of activity but surprisingly calm. Soldiers manned the various scribe stations and the long-viewing glasses, while others were at the troop movements table, making minor adjustments to match what those at the long-viewing stations were calling out. None of the other scouting captains were here, but that was not unexpected, given none of them lived in this upper level but rather the military section. They’d be gathered in the secondary operations center, which would now be under Vaya’s command. Jarin, as night watch commander, was here, standing beside my father in the middle of the front-facing windows.

Both glanced around as we approached. I saluted and said, “Who attacks?”

“The Mareritt.”

---