Did anyone know what to do in this situation? Luka took a deep breath. He had to figure this out, and fast. He caught Dashiell’s eye. “Look for a weapon now, please, Sergeant.”
Dashiell turned away to search the rough coastal path, carefully lifting the lace bushes to check underneath, stepping around brambles to avoid the sharp thorns, and rifling through the grasses. It was unlikely he would find anything in the dim pool of lamplight. Even less likely there was anythingtofind, but they had to check.
Luka shrugged off his long leather coat—leaving him in his silver embossed castle tunic, breeches and well-worn boots—and used it to cover Narya’s body. He tucked it close, especially over her face, like macabre swaddling. He didn’t like leaving her with the mist settling on her skin. Then he joined the sergeant, lifting his lantern high to check in widening circles, until there was nothing but cliff face dropping away to the crashing sea on one side and rising mountain foothills on the other.
His thoughts churned as he searched. Itwasunusual for him to come into the city these days. He worked and he slept, and he did both within the castle walls. But tonight, the feast was excruciating. Senior officers of recalled regiments and city dignitaries had thronged the Flame Hall, enjoying a glittering, opulent banquet. There were hundreds of people, and yet the only one he’d hoped would come had not appeared. And Shane was flirting loudly enough to wake the gods. Even the dance troupe with their drums and shakers hadn’t muted the prince’s revelry; he’d simply laughed louder.
Luka had no plans to seduce anyone, and watching it unfold was exhausting. He never drank while he was on duty, and he’d certainly felt like he was working. The revelry left him feeling older than he could remember… and more wounded. He was missing something. Some part of himself that he had lost.
You know exactly what we’re missing, his beast noted acidly. He ignored it, as usual.
As soon as the party wound down and the most important guests were escorted to their rooms, he handed duty over to Captain Ryland of the night guard and escaped. For the first time in months, he fled the castle. Moving without really thinking, his feet took him back to the tavern his father drank in, and his grandfather before him. They were both long gone. His mother gone even earlier. But the loneliness churning inside him had driven him back to the place of his first memories.
And thank the gods his feet had brought him down this way. That Dashiell saw him and thought to get him. That he had this chance to deal with this nightmare. And it was a nightmare, that was certain.
The scales along his arms settled into gilded vambraces as his beast growled, low and deep in his belly.This could start a war.
The hairs rose on the back of Luka’s neck, despite his scales. He was the knight commander. If it came to it, it was up to him to make sure that didn’t happen.
They searched thoroughly but found nothing. Whoever had committed this crime was long gone, and they had left nothing except Narya’s body. There was no benefit to hunting through the dark any further. It was time to get back to the castle and warn the crown marshal—his commander and friend—Prince Shane.
Luka lifted the dead woman into his arms and nodded for Dashiell to follow him off the mountain.
They had a long night ahead.
Chapter
Two
Izabel had just started driftingtoward sleep when the banging started.
She forced her gritty eyes to open, regretting the long hours of straining in the lamplight. She should never have stayed up so late working. She swallowed against the raw ache in her throat—it hadn’t recovered from the acrid fumes—and forced herself to sit up.
What time was it?
After midnight. The bells rang a little while ago. And the celebrations are still going strong.
The banging at her door started again, and she rubbed her temples. Her head pounded from concentrating for hours without a break. Grinding, dissolving, distilling, trying different acids, examining the results again and again. And she hadn’t learned anything helpful.
She still didn’t know what the strange gray powder—Firebreather—could possibly be. What could give such a rush of fiery arousal and unbridled passion, fierce energy and intense focus, and then dump the user into such a bleak spiraling crash that many simply never recovered?
Something horrible. Something fundamentally wrong,her beast muttered, just as the banging started again. It turned over and closed its eyes.We’re too tired. Tell them to go away.
She was exhausted, that was true, and part of her wished she could ignore whoever was down there. But she swung her legs off the side of her narrow cot and threw a heavy wool robe over her nightdress, nonetheless. Pounding on her door late at night only ever meant one thing: someone needed help.
Or they’ve come for the Firebreather.
Izzy glanced at her stained and slightly scorched desk. The copper and glass vessels and tubes of the distiller occupied most of it. Various lidded pots and ceramic dishes took up the rest of the space, and she’d left her notes out beside a now completely dried-out inkpot. But the small steel lockbox was safely away. Good. She only had a tiny sample—bought in the back of the coldest, darkest, dingiest tavern she’d ever imagined—but it cost a lot more than anything else in her store.
She grabbed her sheathed dagger and stuck it in her pocket. When she’d first moved in, there had been some unsettling visitors to her shop. They were strangely reticent about their ailments and made vague, offhand comments, as if she knew what they meant. Her beast disliked them on sight. Thankfully, as she became better known, that type of patron had become rare. But she was still cautious. Especially with a lockbox of Firebreather shoved to the back of her drawer.
Izzy stumbled through her garret and down the narrow stairs to the shop front. She lit a lamp and opened the small eye-level shutter in the door, leaving the heavy bar in place as she peered out.
A soldier with bright blue eyes, ginger hair, and a sprinkling of amber scales along the small amount of skin showing above his richly embroidered tunic stood waiting. All her tension dissolved into joy. This was a soldier she knew well. One whowas almost a brother to her. She lifted the bar and hauled the door open. “Aiden! You’re here!”
Aiden gave her a tired smile. His gaze was clear and direct as always, but fine lines creased the corners of his eyes. “Hello, Izzy.”
She reached out, delighted to see him, and he pulled her into a rough hug. She’d missed all her friends so much. Aiden, Kai, and Cori had all left the castle guard, joined the Crown Legions, and had been living on the border for the last few years.
