Page 9 of Of Scale and Blood

I scribed everything that had happened, from the armor’s disappearance to the wonderful news that the liquid shit could be set alight and used as a flaming spray. Then, munching on the meat, cheese, and bread, I waited for a reply, watching the blinking dot sitting in the middle of the screen that indicated its pair remained active.

It came through after what seemed an agonizingly long time, though in truth was probably little more than a few minutes. He’d no doubt first relayed my comments to my mother and whoever else was in the war room with him.

I’ll task Hopetown’s council with sending cutters out to Kinara with supplies and scribe pens. With the aid of air mages, they have a far better chance of reaching that sheltered harbor before we could, and certainly before the gilded riders become a threat. What of Hopetown itself? Are the preparations coming along satisfactorily?

No, though they may well hasten after the influx of refugees.You need to order a blackout. I suggested it but everything remains lit up.I paused.How goes things there?

No change. If you actually mean, how goes the husband, I believe he’s currently assisting Kele and your mother haul several freshly killed boars up to your young drakkon. She is a hungry one.

Kele wasn’t only my friend, but also a strega witch whose fire ability was even stronger than mine. Damon had recently modified his blood-produced magical shield guarding the internal entrance into the aerie to allow Mom through, simply because she was the only other person beside me who could mind speak to all the other drakkons.

I frowned.Are Rua and Tane not hunting for her?

Yes, but according to your mother, there is no filling a hungry teenager.

I smiled. She’d said that same phrase about me when I’d suggested Gria couldn’t still be hungry after the boars we’d already fed her.Tell Kele I expect a jug of mead to be ready and waiting when I get back, as per usual.

I might want to see—and bed—my husband with a surprising degree of desperation, but there were some traditions that needed to be maintained, especially when I’d lose them—and Kele—when I moved to Zephrine. Ihadoffered her the position of personal guard, which would have meant a serious step up in pay and position, but her mom and her lovers lived in Esan, and even as I’d made the offer I’d known she’d refuse it.

Will do.There was a slight pause.Be careful.

Always.

He didn’t reply, but it wasn’t hard to imagine his responding snort. I was, after all, his daughter and had inherited his innate need to explore, no matter what the danger. It was one of the reasons he’d never stopped me heading out to watch the drakkons—he’d understood the inner urge I just couldn’t ignore. It was for that same reason Mom had insisted I learn to use a sword and bow, though neither of them had thought it would end up with me enlisting.

But then, what was a girl to do when the prince she’s supposed to marry continually dragged his heels when it came to anything related to our marriage and the treaty negotiations that had started when we were both barely teenagers?

I poured myself another hot drink then finished the rest of the platter. Feeling much better with a full belly and two cups of shamoke under my belt, I ran the bath, gathered some soap weed and drying towels, then stripped off and stepped into the steaming water.

I stayed there an indecently long time, soaking away the grime and the aches that came with drakkon riding. It was only when the water began to cool that I climbed out to dry myself and then wash my undergarments. This room—like most of the buildings in Hopetown and towns like her—had a form of underfloor heating. Unlike the volcanic steam vents that both Esan and Zephrine used, here the air was heated by a furnace and forced into a series of hollow chambers between the ground and the floor, and then up into either exposed pipes in the wall or through floor vents to heat rooms. A hanging rack had been placed over the vent here, so I hung out my things, then climbed naked into bed. Like any good soldier well used to grabbing sleep when and where they could, I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

A sharp knocking on the door woke me hours later. “Yes?” I mumbled.

“I have the breakfast you ordered, Captain,” came a softly feminine voice.

“Please, bring it in and place it on the table.”

As she did so, I yawned and stretched, then glanced at the window above my head. It was pitch black outside, but at least the wind no longer howled, and the distant glimmer of stars said the clouds had cleared. I waited until the woman had left and then tossed off the blankets and padded across to the hanging rack to check if my underclothing had dried. I could’ve dried it myself by applying a little inner heat once it was on, of course, but there was nothing worse than trying to pull on damp clothes.

I quickly dressed, very aware of the strong, musky, and very drakkon scent the leathers were emitting. I didn’t find it offensive, but I daresay others might.

I took my fill of pottage—a thick soup made from various grains boiled in milk and sweetened with honey—and finished the shamoke, then slipped on my coat and harness and headed out the door.

A guard was waiting for me in the hall beyond. “This way, Captain.”

“Thank you.”

As I followed him through a mindless number of corridors—this place was a damn maze—I reached for Kaia.You awake?

Hunting.

You didn’t hunt last night?

Did. Still hungry. You on way?

About to collect my mount and head out now.

Where meet?

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