It looks like the weapons Asha described from her altercation with the humans before she’d escaped this place.
The powder on the bolt could be crimson coal.
I’m not sure if the dragon riders will realize the extreme volatility of the weapon Petra’s aiming at them.
Because, yes, as Petra takes another step forward, it becomes clear that she’s aiming her weapon squarely atCatalinaand not at me.
Catalina takes a hasty step away from me, her head swiveling from side to side as she attempts to keep both me and Petra in her sights.
The dragons and their riders all tense up, each one of them also dividing their attention between Petra and me.
“Hello there,” Petra says to Catalina. “Unless you want to die, I suggest you move farther away from the Vandawolf.”
At that moment, four more women appear, but not from behind Petra.
My eyes widen as they rise up out of the mud around the base of the stone monolith, shaking off the dirt as they jump to their feet.
It’s a trick of camouflage that I taught the Wasteland Warriors in case they ever needed to conceal themselves before a fight—a tactic my father had taught me, although we could never use it in the freezing snow.
Fuck me, how long were they hiding in the muddy ash?
I recognize all four of the women, and I’m relieved to see that they’re alive.
Nearest to me is Councilor Genova. She tips her chin at me before she pulls a hunting dagger from a holster at her waist and brandishes it at the nearest dragon riders, fearlessly ignoring their dragons.
Her skin is light brown and weather-beaten, her frame lean and muscular from her work as leader of the farmers. It isn’t herblade that draws my eye so much as the small, but clearly full, pouch attached to her belt.
I’m concerned about what could be inside it.
More crimson coal?
The woman next to her is Mother Solas. Her hair is silvery gray, and her eyes are faded brown. Her normally rosy cheeks are pale, and the smile lines around her mouth and eyes are nowhere to be seen.
She glares at the newcomers while her granddaughter, Rachel, takes position on her other side. Rachel’s eyes are the same shade of brown as her grandmother’s, and her skin is just as pale. She, too, grips a dagger and carries a pouch at her waist.
Nearer to Petra is Maybelle, who also holds a knife. She and her husband, Kedric, took Asha’s siblings in and treated them like their own.
They stare down dragons without a hint of alarm, and it worries me a little.
Only those who have already faced their worst fears could look into the eyes of dragons and find nothing to be afraid of.
Catalina seems to have taken quick stock of them. “You’re all human.”
“So are you,” Petra retorts. “A human with no power here.”
“On the contrary,” Catalina says. “Our Queen rules over all humans. Therefore, you’re now under her jurisdiction.”
“Like fuck we are,” Rachel speaks up, her savage retort taking me by surprise. She was always reserved, concealing her compassion beneath a stoic façade. “We govern ourselves.”
“By what authority?” Catalina demands to know.
“By the royal line of Solas,” Rachel replies. “Which is to say, bymyauthority.”
The other four women, including Petra, give Rachel firm nods.
I may not know what happened within this city while I was gone, but if Rachel has claimed her crown, then much has changed.
Catalina lowers her weapon slightly. “You’re descended from King Solas?”
