tiny puncture wounds from Zernex's claws were scabbed up and puffy beneath his fingers. He wished he had a mirror. The grooves on the underside of a sky-dragon's claws collected a foul-smelling goop that harbored disease. Shay hoped he hadn't survived the encounter with the slavecatchers only to perish of some horrible illness.
Shay was exhausted but didn't complain when the others voted to keep going. As the day wore on they passed through three villages, all destroyed, the severed heads gathered into mounds. The tracks of earth-dragons were everywhere. They all rode in silence. Anza looked especially withdrawn, her face an emotionless mask. She had to be wondering if her home had also suffered this fate.
Shay was also worried about the town. Had Burke's hidden library been destroyed? He felt guilty that the fate of the books weighed so heavily on his mind, when Anza no doubt faced the loss of friends and family. He could still feel the empty hole that had opened in his gut when he saw The Origin of Species crumble to ash. How could he have been so wrong about Ragnar? The prophet had been delivering firebrand sermons calling for human rebellion for years. His words traveled throughout the kingdom as hushed whispers from slave to slave. Burke may have been the strategist who supplied the rebels with a worthy arsenal, but it was Ragnar's vision that the rebels followed. How could such a great leader despise books?
It was late in the evening when the dragon tracks they followed suddenly veered south, leaving the Forge Road. Ruts from a convoy of supply wagons led up the sloping hill of a field gone fallow. Shay looked toward the top of the ridge, wondering if an army was on the other side.
'Where to you think they've gone?' Vance asked, pulling his horse beside Shay.
Anza snapped her fingers and traced a wavy line in the air. Shay was puzzled by what she was attempting to convey. Anza looked frustrated, and repeated the motion.
'A river?' Jandra asked.
Anza nodded.
'I'd noticed we hadn't passed any good drinking water in several miles. They must have gone to the river to camp. How far south is the water?'
Anza held up two fingers.
'Two miles?' asked Jandra.
Anza nodded.
They all stared at the hill. The trampled ground was reasonably fresh, but whether the army had turned south an hour ago or a day ago was beyond Shay's guess.
Lizard stood up on Jandra's shoulder, his head held high. He sniffed, then crouched down and assumed a brown shade that matched Jandra's hair.
'Bad bosses,' he whispered.
'If they're close enough for Lizard to smell, we should get going,' said Shay.
'Or we should spy on them,' said Vance. 'Find out how many there are. See if they're settled in for a long stay, or just resting for a night.'
'No,' said Jandra. 'We should press on to Burke's Tavern. Warn any towns along the way that the dragon armies are on the march and they should run.'
'Run where?' asked Vance. 'If they head toward Dragon Forge, they might run into the army.'
'Then east,' said Jandra. 'Toward Richmond. Shandrazel may be dead, but Androkom, the High Biologian, will maintain law and order around the palace. The High Biologian can command the aerial guard in the event of the king's absence. He'll keep the peace in his immediate vicinity, at least.'
'You have a lot of faith in Androkom,' said Shay. 'He was somewhat infamous at the College of Spires. He was a prominent abolitionist, and made a lot of enemies among the biologians. I'm not certain the other sky-dragons will obey him.'
'I didn't like him either,' said Jandra. 'He had a snooty air that made it clear he didn't think anyone else in the world was as smart as he was. Still, while I have every reason to hate dragons'-Lizard whined; Jandra stroked his arm-'I trust Androkom. If anyone is smart enough to keep the kingdom from spinning into chaos, it's him.'
'Don't we want the kingdom to be spinning into chaos?' asked Vance. 'Order and peace haven't been all that great for humans. That's the whole reason I joined up with the rebellion. If peace means that dragons are in charge, count me as friend of war.'
Before they could debate this any further, Anza gave a silent sigh, rolled her eyes, and turned her horse in the direction of Burke's Tavern. She dug her heels into the flanks of her steed and trotted off.
'I guess we're following her,' said Jandra, shaking the reins of her mount.
'For someone who can't talk, Anza always manages to win arguments,' said Vance.
IT WAS LONG past dark when they reached Burke's Tavern. Jandra was exhausted. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to be truly weary. When she'd worn her genie, the device had constantly monitored her physical state, negating the fatigue poisons that built up her blood. She resolved not to complain about her discomfort. She knew she was experiencing nothing worse than the others.
Burke's Tavern, the town, wasn't much more than a cluttered spot on the Forge Road, a few dozen houses clumped together. In the center of all this was a two-story building with a large porch and a painted wooden sign that read, 'Burke's Tavern.' The town was silent and still, but it was the quietness of sleep, not death. There were no signs of violence; the retreating dragon armies hadn't reached this far. It was quite possible no one here knew anything about the events from further down the road. The size of a dragon's world and a man's world were quite different. Sky-dragon messengers could cover two hundred miles a day, spreading news quickly. Humans lived much more insular lives-it could take many days for information to spread a hundred miles among humans. For a winged dragon, a town ninety miles distant was part of the neighborhood. For a human, a town ninety miles distant was out of sight and out of mind. Vendevorex had told her that most men never traveled more than fifty miles from their birthplace, though Jandra wondered if this was true or merely a myth believed by dragons. Many of the men she knew, like Bitterwood and Burke, had traveled through more of the world than she could imagine.
Lizard was asleep, his limbs draped over the horse's neck like it was a tree branch. The swaying motion didn't disturb him. In sleep, his coloration had taken on a drab, dark shade of green-a shade she remembered well. It had been the color of the earth-dragon that had slit her throat during the battle of Chakthalla's castle. Though that had happened only a few months before, it felt like some impossibly distant past. So much had unfolded in her life in the intervening weeks, she felt as if her adventures could fill a book, perhaps an entire trilogy of books, one that any biologian worth his salt would salivate over.
It was difficult to accept that this tiny dragon-child would one day grow up to be a fierce warrior. All the earth-dragons she'd ever known had led violent lives as soldier and guards. Was this the result of their biology or their upbringing? Earth-dragon children were treated with abuse and neglect their whole lives until they became big enough and strong enough to be the abusers. Yet, Lizard responded to her affection. Could raising an earth-dragon with compassion, teaching it reason instead of rage, result in a new kind of dragon? Or only a weaker one, fated to never fit in with his peers? Would her act of kindness leave Lizard as much an outcast as she was?
Anza dismounted on the steps of Burke's Tavern. She walked onto the broad porch, stood next to a chess board atop a large barrel. A sculpted monkey sat on the far side of the board, a grinning beast crafted from tin and copper, with large glass eyes. Though immobile, its hand was held in such a way that it looked ready to reach out and grab a chess piece, had there been any on the board. Vance and Shay got off their horses, stretching their backs.
'I need brandy,' said Shay.
'What's brandy?' asked Vance.
Shay looked puzzled by the question. 'It's a liqueur. You drink it. It warms you.'
'Like moonshine?' asked Vance.
'I think brandy is only going to be found in the dens of sky-dragons,' said Jandra, getting off her horse to join the others on the porch. Lizard remained sound asleep, breathing peacefully. 'I'm not sure human palettes are refined enough to distinguish between the various liqueurs.'
As she said the words 'human palettes' she realized she was still thinking like the daughter of a dragon. The others didn't react to her words-were they avoiding her gaze because they recognized how alien she was? A voice within her thought, 'Not alien. Superior.'
A chill ran down her spine. It wasn't her own voice in her head-it was the voice of Jasmine Robertson. Before Jazz had died, she'd 'gifted' Jandra with a thousand years' worth of her memories. Jazz had told Jandra she'd done this as a time saving device to help Jandra understand why Jazz had aided in the fall of mankind and the rise of
