When the dragon at last landed, her claws struck the ground hard enough that Krayson heard stone crack. There was hardly a moment to try to catch his bearings before the scales he clung to melted away from his hands like mist. He then found himself on his hands and knees, in the midst of four sets of claw marks gouged into the stone.

As soon as he recovered his wits, Krayson reformed and locked the ward that would conceal the bloodsong in his veins. It used a large measure of his ether and wouldn't last long. Even locked, the bloodsong would overwhelm the ward within a quarter hour. It usually wasn't worth the cost, but Krayson didn't want to advertise what he held if he could avoid it.

The less Garret's thoughts were drawn to the bloodsong, the better.

The dragon stood over Krayson, in human form and nude. The scarlet markings on her face continued down the upper half of her body. Her green eyes glared at Krayson as if daring him to make a wrong move and give her an excuse to crush him.

Krayson stood and brushed the dust from his new robe. Keeping his face neutral, he met the dragon's stare. He refused to be intimidated, even by a monster that was supposed to be nothing more than a legend.

"Winds and storms, my dear," Garret exclaimed. He held his cane casually behind his neck. "Silent as anything on the way here, but that landing could have risen the dead."

The dragon seemed to dislike Krayson for the mere fact that he was in some way associated with Garret. However, when she turned her eyes to the actor turned hired murderer, the hate in her expression increased fivefold. What she held for Master Deveaux was nothing short of pure loathing.

"There's no one who'd carry word of us down here," she said.

Garret rubbed his chin as he leered at her naked body. "Far be it from me to question your caution, my dear. Your kind has proven themselves immensely adept at circumcision, I suppose."

"Circumspection," Krayson corrected.

"You're certain?" Garret asked.

"Very."

Garret eyed Kimpo sidelong and grinned like a fox. "I stand by what I said."

Grateful at having the dragon's attention and ire directed elsewhere, Krayson looked around him. The flight had been... a new experience. He'd once ridden a Nadian airship, but flying on a dragon was an altogether different ordeal. Krayson never thought himself one to get motion sickness, but the undulation of the dragon with every beat of her wings had tested his stomach to the limit.

I shouldn't have eaten so much before leaving the palace, he decided. Thankfully, the nausea was fading now that he had his feet on solid ground. He cast a wary glance at the dragon. She was much smaller now. Before, she'd been large enough to carry off an ox with a single claw.

It strained credibility that something so large, bigger than four train cars, could pass through the City of Althandor unnoticed. Yet the dragon had managed it. She kept to the mists and the shadows, avoided flying over skybridges and walkways, and rode the drafts between the towers at the darkest and gloomiest depths of the cityscape. Krayson supposed that anyone that might have caught a glimpse of the dragon would have seen no more than a fleeting, dark shape, silent on her gliding wings.

Krayson furrowed his brow. He could make out bright gaslights above him, diffused by the mist. They were on the ground, but not in Northrun, where the lower levels were the center of Althandi art and culture. They'd flown too far to still be in Westrun, and it was far too deserted to be Southrun. By process of elimination, and knowing who he had been brought to meet, there was only one place in the Spired City where he could be. The light above must have come from one of the many markets that dotted the midlevels of this district.

"Why have we come to Eastrun?" Krayson asked.

Garret sighed. "A fit of nostalgia on my dove's part, I believe. No need to be nervous, sir. This parcel of gutter lies a good ways from Fellowton, and ruffers aren't ones for darkness despite their boasting. We're quite alone here."

Krayson's witch sight revealed how wrong Garret was. Since their landing, he'd seen no less than four dirty faces peering at them from abandoned windows and boarded doorways. The lowest levels were all but ignored by the city watch, and due to the spires' spellwrought nature, rarely needed to be maintained by engineers. In a place such as this, the faceless and unwanted masses could survive. It was a slum, more dangerous and hopeless than any other in the world. People that laired in the depths of Eastrun could go months, if not years, without seeing sunlight.

Garret knows that, Krayson realized. He just doesn't see them as people.

What would he care of the rats that noted his passing?

"My dear," Garret said to the dragon in a patient voice. "As enticing as I find your womanly features, you know how your mistress abhors it when you prance about, bosom out."

The dragon scowled. She muttered under her breath as her hands began working a somatic.

Krayson expected her to produce a dress like the one she wore earlier out of a holding spell. Instead, a bright flare of fire surrounded her. Krayson watched, wide-eyed, as the flames wrapped around her bust and hips, then coalesced and became more solid. The fire birthed a scarlet material like silk that glowed as if woven of embers. The glow faded, leaving a garment that was as rich as it was revealing. It was a sleeveless robe, neckline plunging down to the navel and slit up both thighs. A cord of the same material cinched her waist.

That spell wasn't something Krayson was familiar with. Conjuration, certainly, but creating matter out of fire was an aspect of the school outside of magocracy knowledge. She'd used a three point single somatic, but Krayson hadn't recognized even one of the gestures. He tried to recall them and visualized his own hands moving in the same way. This warranted experimentation.

I don't think my hand can move like that, he thought with some disappointment. That second somatic won't work with the way human hands are constructed.

Krayson concluded that there were somatics that only dragons knew how to perform. The thought of power so close yet unattainable wasn't something he'd just accept without trying.

Now that the dragon was dressed, Garret led the way towards the base of a nearby tower. It wasn't a true spire, only a dozen or so levels tall. The roof of the structure wouldn't even breach the thick banks of mist separating the lower and midlevels.

"If you would be so kind to educate me, sir," Garret said as they walked. "That talent of yours..."

"Wizardry and witchery," Krayson said. "I can break the Law of Five and follow two paths of magic."

"To ease my mind, only two?"

"Are you asking if I can use a sorcerer's manifestations, invest ether into reagents, or write sigils?"

Garret chuckled. "I suppose I am inquiring towards the magnitude of your omnipotence."

"I can use sigils," Krayson said, "but none greater than you yourself can use. It is the same with using reagents. Wizards can dabble in the crafts of scriveners and alchemists. Runes of just the second-tier are almost too demanding to invest on their own, let alone within a sigil. I can also draw on ether and essences inherent in reagents, but I am unable to alter their imprints."

Garret hummed in appreciation. "Nonetheless, remarkable. Correct me if I'm wrong, but with the overlap in different arcanists' vocational schools..."

"There is no school of magic barred from me," Krayson said. "The few things a wizard cannot do, a witch can."

"The same is true for sorcerers. Might I ask why you didn't choose to use manifestations? Surely, you have the depth of stores for it."

Krayson frowned. He hadn't intended to reveal his ability, to Garret of all people no less, but he failed to stop himself from saying it out loud. Perhaps it was the rare opportunity to tell it to someone who didn't immediately name him an abomination that freed his tongue.

"Versatility," Krayson said. "A sorcerer has a practical limit to the number of spells they can master. Manifestations require an intimate understanding of even the smallest spell's effect on the Weave. They must drill for weeks, perhaps months, to reliably cast a simple firefly light. That is why individual sorcerers choose a field of spells to specialize in. Pyromancy or oneiromancy. I have no desire to be limited by the path I choose."

"Sounds to me as if you wish to become a master of all that is arcane."

"I do," Krayson said. "I will."

The dragon spoke up from behind him. She had begun to walk uncomfortably close to Krayson's back. "How is this possible?" she demanded. "What fell pacts have you made, Blood Runner?"

"Why is it everyone always assumes demons?" Krayson growled. "Believe me, dragon, I was just as surprised as you when I found out."

The dragon's teeth were showing through her snarl. "It's unnatural."

"So says the shape-changing reptile," Garret laughed. "Dearest Kimpo, you simply must get a speck of perspective on the world. There are far stranger things in this life than a... Drat, I can't say I know what to call someone like you, sir."

"The magocracy has seen others such as me," Krayson replied. "Rarely, and the last was seventy years ago. I am called twinborn."

Garret snorted. "Twinborn? Is that supposed to be a pun?"

Krayson felt his lip curl, but he kept it out of his tone. "I couldn't say. Very few of the documents have survived. I'm not sure why it's called what it is."

"Fascinating," Garret said. "Truly fascinating. I daresay, this should endear you to our empress even more than you already have."

"Empress?" Krayson blurted.

Garret smirked and gave him a wink.

Elise of Eastrun, an Aleesh arcanist that had been captured and pressed into the crown's service. Had she actually gone and declared herself the heir of Shan Alee, the Dragon Empress? King Cathis had been dismissive of Elise, but she must have been the one he was looking for all along.

"There are things I would like to ask her," Krayson said as they entered into the tower.

"You'll get your chance, dear sir," Garret replied.

The interior of the structure was unlit and damp. The scent of mold was thick on the air, and vermin could be heard scurrying through the piles of refuse. Old, worn cots with tattered blankets and mattresses were pushed haphazardly into the corners of every room. Old, stone firepits that hadn't held a flame in years were instead filled with trash. As Krayson traced his eyes over the decrepit tenement, he could taste a fetid and coppery tang of old blood.

This place had seen death.

Garret gestured towards the dragon with his cane. "Kimpo, would you be so kind as to fetch Trell and Saveen? If things go well, we may need them."

The dragon, Kimpo, had a bitter expression on her face. It looked like something akin to shame. "You can't be serious," she protested.

Garret stared at her until she grew discomforted and nodded her assent.

"I will bring them," Kimpo said, her voice almost meek.

Once her path split into a different part of the tower, Krayson looked to Garret. "How is it you have influence over one of the mighty?"

"Authority by association," Garret replied. "I don't call Elise the Dragon Empress because she rules over lapdogs, you know."

Krayson chewed on his lip. "That's a dangerous thing to call oneself. If you only knew the secret history..."

"That we were all once slaves of the Aleesh?" Garret laughed. "Oh yes, I've been thoroughly educated over the last few days. Sentinel cities, crystal fountains, a death curse born of blood magic that transformed an empire into a desert, and much more besides. Rather poor of the elder bloodlines to hide something so momentous from the masses, wouldn't you say?"

"The purpose wasn't merely to hide the truth," Krayson murmured. "It was to bury the memory of Shan Alee. Better that it's remembered as a fairy tale, even a pleasant one, than tempt the avarice of those who would plunder its ruins. The Espalla Dunes hold dangers far worse than dead slaves."

"Such as?" Garret asked.

"I am not ranked highly enough in the Order to know of such things. Not yet."

Garret smirked again, but this time it had a sense of admiration to it. "I think I'm growing to like you, sir."

Krayson wondered if he should be insulted by that or not.

"That cleft chin of yours speaks of Teularon," Garret observed, "but the eyes and the ambition are one hundred percent Althandi. You have the better parts of both lands, I would say. But enough chitchat. We're here."

Garret brought them through a door that was rotting off its hinges. A large room was on the other side. A commons, once, or a lobby. The people that dwelled in this old tenement might have gathered here. The cracked and broken furnishings were pushed to the walls, and the remnants of at least three dozen pyres were in ordered rows in the center.

In the midst of old ashes, Elise of Eastrun knelt in prayer. Her back was to Krayson and Garret. Elise's golden hair was worn up in a high tail, and she wore a cropped blouse and trousers. Though immodest, it wasn't all that improper for a woman to bare her midriff. Her outfit wouldn't have been out of place on the midlevels above, especially now as the weather was getting warmer.

Seeing her like this, among the ashes of the dead, Krayson realized where they must have been. Elise was apprehended here eight years earlier. This was where the Aleesh she had led to hide under Cathis' nose had met their end, the last of the Aleesh of Ejasta. They stood within a graveyard.

Out of respect for the dead, Krayson removed his hood.

Garret tapped his cane against the floor to announce their presence. The sound echoed through the large room, and Krayson saw that Elise flinched.

"What is it?" she said in a harsh whisper.

"What else?" Garret asked lightly. "I've done as asked and brought you your blood runner."

Elise turned her head to look at them. Her green eyes were bloodshot as she stood, but she gave no further indication that she'd been in mourning. Her intense gaze was fixed on Krayson. There were no lines on her face to betray her middle-years. Elise appeared to be a young woman, a fact that Krayson felt he should have noted the importance of at their last meeting in Gaulatia.

I never would have expected, he thought. The elder bloodline of Shan Alee, the power to bind dragons, still exists.

"I've got an offer for you, Blood Runner," Elise said without preamble. "I need a preserver."

Krayson could appreciate her bluntness. "I will listen."

Elise swiped at her trousers to brush away some dirt. "You carried my bloodsong before. Better, you returned it to me. I don't care iffen it was Cathis what told you to do it or no, but that had a way of endearin' you to me. That's why I went lookin' to you first."

"A moment to make certain I understand," Krayson said. He had a little difficulty with Elise's accent. It was coarse and rustic, closer to the dialect of ruffers than an empress. The magnitude of what she was asking only compounded the problem. "You're asking me to attend you as if you were a hierarch?"

"Exactly," Elise said. She approached him, and her hand fiddled with the fastenings of her blouse. She might have loosened them a bit, perhaps believing a little cleavage would sway him towards agreeing to what she wanted.

Krayson took a steadying breath. He recognized the danger of his situation and wasn't in much of a position to decline. It would only become worse if Garret suspected that the Merovech's bloodsong was within reach.

"As I told Master Deveaux," Krayson began, "I am under current contract. I am prohibited from taking another."

A frown pulled at Elise's lips as she came to stand within a pace of him. She was taller than Krayson by a hand, the same as Garret. Whether her stature was an Aleesh trait or something of her own was hard to say.

"I'm not much used to bein' refused," she said in a low tone. "Now less than ever."

"Then, do not think of it as a refusal," Krayson replied. "A delay. I am under contract with the king to deliver another bloodsong, and my life is forfeit if I fail. After that, you may petition the Order for my or any other blood runner's services."

Elise gave him a wry look before stepping around him. She passed Garret, touching his chest with her fingertips as she passed. "Any problems, pet?"

"Nothing insurmountable, dove," he replied.

"The dragon?"

"Zealous," Garret reported. "She performed as ordered, so there's no need to be harsh with her."

"It drew from me," she growled.

Garret shifted his feet and nodded towards Krayson. "Ah. I'm afraid we startled our friend. There was something of a kerfuffle."

Krayson wasn't certain if they were referring to Elise's elder magic or not. Whatever they meant, he was getting the feeling that his resistance put Kimpo in a poor position with her mistress.

"A mistake on my part, my lady," Krayson said. "Since my contract began, I've been expecting trouble. I assumed your servants' intentions wrongly and was the aggressor."

Elise narrowed her eyes as she regarded him, then shrugged. "Unavoidable, I suppose," she said.

Krayson noted Garret letting out an all but imperceptible sigh of relief.

Elise walked along the periphery of the room. Her fingers left tracks in the grime and dust covering the walls. "Tell me, Blood Runner. Do you think I can be strollin' up to your bloody tower to ask for a preserver?"

"Are you not in service to the Highest King?" Krayson asked. "His Grace's servants are afforded rights and privileges, and any citizen of Althandor is allowed to offer contract to the Order."

"He's right, dove," Garret offered. "Even goodfolk sometimes ask for a blood runner to transfer their bloodsongs, weak as they may be. More than a few of the houses began due to the forward thinking of their forebears."

Elise pounded a fist against the wall. The blow punched a hole through the rotting drywall. "I'm no servant!"

Garret flinched at the outburst. Krayson held himself at the ready.

"I am an empress," Elise hissed. "I won't bow my head and beg for Althandi scraps, not after what they've done to my people. As it is, I should take my dragons and fly straight to the palace. Rip Cathis' head from his shoulders then mount it on a spike for his queen to weep over. I'll tear House Algara apart, from the babes to the oldwives if I have to. Anything, to get back what they took from me!"

Krayson furrowed his brow. Cathis had made Elise into a daanman. When she was said to be executed, he instead ordered a blood runner to remove her bloodsong and place it within the Imperial Diamond. At least, that was what Lady Tarlen had told him. If not her bloodsong, now back in her possession, what else had the Highest King taken from her?

Garret was cautioning Elise. His voice was placating and carried a slight tremor as he spoke to her. "Come now, dove. We mustn't be impetuous. Why, you yourself said that osteomancy is a magic tailor-made to slay dragons."

"I don't need you to remind me, fancy man," she snapped. "There's more to do before we come callin' on Cathis." She turned towards Krayson again, and her expression was barely shy of a sneer. "A delay, you said. Does that mean you're thinkin' to come to work for me?"

I can hardly say no, Krayson thought. "A blood runner's livelihood depends upon their contracts. What would ours entail?"

Elise considered him as she came closer. "That depends," she said. "If I'm to be the Dragon Empress, I need to be thinkin' of my dynasty. How's all your business when it comes to elder blood?"

"There are laws," he replied, "and for good reason. Only another marked by your elder magic could receive your bloodsong. In the past, attempts to pass it to those unmarked or from outside the bloodline resulted in death. This is the only situation where it is accepted for a blood relation to receive the bloodsong."

Garret snorted. "Is that directed at me, sir?"

Krayson fought to keep his voice calm. "It wasn't, but I do remember you claiming that your father's bloodsong is your birthright."

"Isn't it?" Elise asked, curious.

"It's a taboo," Krayson explained. "Material wealth and titles pass to familial heirs. Arcane power must go to apprentices. The Highest Kings have long held that for one to receive both is too much power for one man to hold."

"Taboo," Garret pointed out, "but not forbidden. Sounds to me that the Algaras are simply hindering the rise of potential rivals."

"It's a moot issue," Krayson said, praying the deception wouldn't show in his voice. "I saw your father just this morning, fit as a man half his age."

Garret let out a wry chuckle. "The old goat might outlive gods if he's not careful."

Krayson changed the subject before he needed to lie more. "I can't imagine there are many other Aleesh marked by elder magic. Unless there is another, a preserver is worthless to you."

There was a twist in Elise's lip. "There is. My niece. She's a silly girl but the bloodline's only hope if I fail."

Garret laughed. "The sweetling? And here I thought you were disappointed in her, dove."

"Oh, she has some fire in her," Elise said. She smiled as she said it, but it was the sort of smile that didn't reach the eyes. "A little time learnin' of the world, a little more listenin' to her betters, and sweet Enfri could be as fine an empress as our people could hope for."

"Enfri," Krayson repeated. "Am I to assume that you would name your niece as the recipient of your bloodsong should you fall?"

Elise nibbled at the tip of her thumb before answering. "Yes. You act as my preserver, and if I die, I want you to give her what I've carried. It's the same what's been passed down since Shan Alee fell, and at last back to what it was before it was lost with Shoen."

"The Aleesh have been passing down this bloodsong?" Krayson asked. "How? Not with a blood runner."

Elise scoffed. "Don't be gettin' too big for your boots. The Order's not the only blood mages what know things. We had our own in Ejasta before Althandor came."

The brothers will want to know that, Krayson thought. He planned on spilling all this to them as soon as he made his way back home.

Elise had that insincere smile on her face again as she watched him. "So, do you agree, Blood Runner? You'll take a contract as my preserver and defend my bloodsong?"

"Once my current is complete, I can make myself available."

She came forward and touched his face. "That's all I wanted to hear," she purred, "but there's one more thing I'm lookin' to ask of you." Elise clapped her hands and called out. "Dragon, stop wastin' my time!"

Krayson heard approaching footsteps. He turned, expecting to see Kimpo, and felt his breath cut short. It wasn't Kimpo but a man that walked into the room.

He was tall as Kimpo, just as dark, only he didn't have the scarlet markings covering his upper body. His charcoal skin was unbroken. His shoulder-length hair was black as midnight, and his eyes were yellow. He wore a hardened leather kilt that left him bare-chested, and his body was layered with well-formed muscle.

"There you are, Trell," Garret said in greeting. "Everything proceeding to our satisfaction?"

Trell nodded, and there was a slight smile on his lips. "Of course, master. The Huntress said I was summoned."

Garret stepped forward and clapped the man on the shoulder. "Shame that you couldn't come along on my errand, but our empress can't abide extortionists demanding tribute. Good on you, dear dragon, that you fulfill her gruesome desires so fervently."

Trell inclined his head to Garret and bowed to Elise. "It is my greatest purpose to serve our beloved. The men who made those foolish demands have been dealt with."

"Quietly, I hope," Elise said.

"Of course. Six ruffers and one wizard barely worthy of the name, but they were no hindrance. Their employer will never find the bodies."

Garret looked intrigued. "You don't say. I know from experience that hiding a corpse in this city is harder than simply tossing it over the railing. How'd you manage?"

Trell favored Garret with a wicked grin. "I ate them."

"Marvelous." Throwing a friendly arm around Trell's shoulder, Garret laughed. "I simply have no idea how I got on before meeting you." He caught sight of Krayson's wide-eyed gaping and laughed again. "Don't gawk so, sir. Surely you didn't think Elise would call herself an empress if she possessed only one big lizard. Allow me to introduce Trell the Watchman, my dragon."

Elise caressed Trell's cheek affectionately. "My Watchman is a delightful creature, eager to take his place as the bonded dragon of my first knight. I'd worried that all the mighty would be as troublesome as the others I've met, but then the Huntress led us to him. Loyal, as a dragon should be."

"The Storyteller would have us follow a half-breed girl," Trell scoffed. "When Shan Alee rises again, pure blood must reign."

Krayson heard teeth grinding together. He turned to see Kimpo returning with another dragon. This next one was a girl, appearing as no older than fifteen. Her skin was pale blue, her short hair white, and her eyes as bright a yellow as Trell's. She was dressed as Kimpo, but her robe appeared to be made from plain linen rather than spellwrought embers.

Trell sneered at Kimpo, who returned the look with just as much venom. However, Trell's face softened when he looked to the blue girl, an almost fatherly expression. "Saveen," he said, "come show your respect to the empress."

Kimpo nodded to Saveen and urged her forward. The blue girl held her hands nervously in front of her as she gave an awkward bow to Elise. She moved timidly and uncertain, as if she wasn't comfortable in her own skin.

Elise frowned as she appraised the young dragon. She then turned to Krayson.

"You're an open book, Blood Runner. I knew you from the start. Your spirit is a simple puzzle. I knew immediately what drives you, and I know that hasn't changed in the last few months. In fact, I believe it's even stronger than what it was." She took Saveen by the chin and looked her over before releasing her. "You want power, Krayson."

She was right, but that didn't mean Krayson liked to hear others say it. He held his tongue and listened. Despite every instinct telling him to shut her out and look for his chance to leave this place, he wanted to hear what Elise had to say.

"Power," Elise repeated, "and that's somethin' I can give you."

She seized Saveen by the arm, thrust her towards Krayson, and pushed her to her knees in front of him. The dragon's eyes were wide, torn between looking nervously towards Elise or to Krayson in terror.

"Serve me, and you'll have all the power you could imagine," Elise said.

Krayson felt his lips part. She couldn't be suggesting what he thought she was.

Elise smiled, and it never reached her eyes. "Be my Sapphire Knight."