'At least a dozen. Probably more. Hard to get a count.'
'Are you certain?' Tennora said. He nodded, and she closed her eyes. 'What do you want me to do?'
'You can't take her alone. Neither of us can. We need to distract her. When she comes back, tell her that you want to go somewhere. Concoct a reason-it doesn't matter what, but start thinking of it now.' He pressed a token into her hands. 'Go out the door and back down the main road over there. When you get within ten paces of the alley behind the brewer, drop it. That will send me a signal you're close, and we'll be able to take her down quickly.'
'I don't think that will work,' Tennora said, recalling the Watch. Had that really been less than a tenday ago?
'It will work because you will be there. She trusts you.' 'I don't know if I can do this to her.'
He set a hand on her shoulder. 'You must. She's killed.'
'We have all sinned,' she said, echoing Nestrix.
The little water leaders ran shrieking across the square, soaked to the skin and happy for every breath of it. Even if they were poor, even if they were orphaned or homeless, nothing terrible seemed to touch them as they scampered in the last gasps of summer.
'Don't do it for what she's done, then. Help me to stop her from killing again. Lives depend on it.'
She thought of the man with his neck broken lying on the floor. Of the way Nestrix had nearly attacked her. Of the way she might look, lying on the floor with her head twisted.
Tennora shuddered. 'All right. I'll do it.'
'Good,' he said, and pulled the hood of his cloak up. 'If she catches on, drop the token early and I'll come help.' He started to walk away.
'Veron,' Tennora said, 'do you know what taaldarax means?'
He stopped and looked back at her with a puzzled frown. 'No. It's Draconic though, if I don't miss my guess.'
'She said there was another dragon. A taaldarax.'
'I doubt it,' Veron said. 'But if there is a dragon, your lords know about it.'
That was true, Tennora thought as she trudged up the stairs. The dragonward existed for a purpose. No dragon could enter the city without suffering from its effects. Ahghairon's spells had protected the city for well-nigh four centuries. The only way for a dragon to survive the effects unscathed was to touch the dragonstaff and stay in the good graces of its bearer. If there was another dragon here, a genuine dragon, the Masked Lords who ruled the city had to know about it.
Maybe it was a good sort of dragon, she thought, coming up to her landing.
Maybe it was protecting the city.
Maybe…
An uneasy feeling settled on Tennora as she reached to open her door. Something wasn't right.
Something had changed.
Scolding herself, she shook the feeling off. All this skulking around was making her nervous. Nestrix had probably returned and left the door No, she thought, because the door is locked. To reassure herself, she twisted the doorknob.
It opened.
The uneasiness grew into a full-bodied alarm. She slid her mother's dagger around to the small of her back, keeping one hand on it as she nudged the door open with her shopping basket.
A man dressed in a green velvet coat was sitting in her chair. He looked young, perhaps a little older than Tennora herself, with pale skin and eyes the shady color of set emeralds. Across his knees rested a cane with a crystal set in the handle. He had turned the chair to face the door, and he greeted her with a razor-sharp smile.
'Well met, Lady Hedare,' he said. 'I believe you have something that belongs to me.'
NINE
Nestrix stormed through the city and down Market Street, no longer noticing where she was. If she'd had her wings, she'd have relished her dark mood, used it as an excuse to swoop low over the crowded stalls, scattering fat merchants and dawdling maids, breathing great gales of lightning until the colorful cloths ignited and the curios melted and the fruit roasted whole. Maybe tear the mast off a ship or two and frighten the sailors off the deck and into the deep. Remind the world of who she was. She shivered.
But trapped on the ground, all she could do was stomp through the crowded market until the cobblestones made her feet ache through the boots she was supposed to be finding a spot for in her new hoard.
This was Tennora's fault. She should turn back right now and crack the little bitch's head open on the windowsill. Leave her there and go after Aundra Blacklock herself. Teach the sorceress to meddle with her. Teach Tennora to speak to her like a common dokaal nothing! Even diminished as she was, she could make them fear her, make them wish
… make them…
Nestrix heaved a great sigh. The truth was she didn't want to kill Tennora or hurt her-or even particularly frighten her. She wanted Tennora to be sorry for saying those things-that she was a monster, that she had done something unforgivable-and she didn't want to force the words from her.
And why was that? The girl was helpful, it was true-but helpful or not, what more was she going to do? She thought of the way Tennora had brushed her hair, and rolled her eyes at her own growing sentimentality. As if the girl would polish her scales and help organize her treasure once Aundra had fixed everything. Everything would be over once Nestrix was a dragon again. Tennora had said it herself: Nestrix wasn't the color of dragon she could trust.
A fat drop of rain hit the crown of her head, jarring Nestrix from her thoughts. She looked up in time to see a bolt of lightning race across the horizon before the rain began to fall in earnest. A shiver ran through her. What she wouldn't give to dance in the lightning again.
The crowd scattered for the relative shelter of the shops and the tents. Nestrix watched the rain coming down for a few minutes before she became aware of the sensation of her dress sticking to her skin.
It wasn't a sensation she'd bothered to notice before, but now that Tennora had shown her she didn't have to be wet when it rained, Nestrix found it extremely irritating.
A man on the street whistled lasciviously at her. She turned and glared at him, and the catcall died on his lips. Not being soaked through would prevent that too. Hooting and cackling like a rooster-she'd long realized it was a dokaal's way of trying to mate, but Tiamat take her if she understood any of it.
Tennora had a cloak for the wet weather. Nestrix could go back and take it. Tennora might even give it to her. Maybe she'd apologize and then make her some tea…
'No,' she said to herself. She didn't need Tennora's help. She would find her own cloak and show Tennora she could take care of herself just fine.
A few minutes' walk down the street brought Nestrix to a shop with an elaborate gilded sign- Valhana Darvien, Fine Clothingand Tailoring. In the window, two wooden forms of women were posed, both wearing ruffled dresses.
The memory slid into her thoughts like a sharp knife-the golden-haired woman, a cloak around her shoulders, a wooden form in the corner, someone measuring the cloth asking if she didn't want to buy a nice dress or perhaps a new set of 'Stop it!' Nestrix hissed and clutched her head. The memory retreated.
Nestrix stared at the window for a moment. It looked a little like the one in the foreign memory-the fabrics heavier, the gowns unfamiliar. But… those strange memories had recognized it.
Shown it to her.
She shook her head. It was just a likely place to have cloaks. Nothing more.
Bells strung on the doorframe tinkled merrily as she stepped inside. The carpet was green and very thick, as if it grew out of the floor in tangled mats. Nestrix rocked her weight against it, finding her balance. A slim girl looked up from behind a counter's table. Her dark eyes flicked over Nestrix, and she didn't bother to hide the sneer that
