Father Vasili was the last of the masters to die. Trell stomped down to crush the Father of Witches throat. Brother Tam, the Red Cleric, had been the first after Elise killed Ranton. Tam only needed to be kept alive until Elise could begin this newest depravity.

    A blood runner was shoved to his knees beside Vasili's cooling body. Somatics of blood pulled at the anointed father's fading ether and drew out his bloodsong before it could be lost to the Beyond. The blood runner— Krayson didn't know his name— performed the Final Rite with dull, empty eyes.

    "Utterly fascinating, wouldn't you agree, dear sir?"

    Garret the Merovech crouched to sit on his heels beside where Krayson knelt. His white double-breasted coat was spotted with blood, and his bowler hat rested beside him. He tapped the head of his walking cane to his smirking lips.

    "I've never had the displeasure of witnessing what passes for wizardry among your type before. I can't begin to express how grateful I am to your brother over there for obliging. He did need a little convincing, however." Garret waggled his fingers and winked. "I'd never have thought. Blood magic leaves its practitioners particularly vulnerable to my brand of spellcraft. I don't suppose you could tell me why that would be, dear sir?"

    Krayson said nothing. He couldn't. The gag tied over his mouth prevented speech and incantations. Krayson's wrists were bound behind his back, and he'd been forced to his knees beneath Garret's watchful eye. His ether was gone, the Dekaam spike returned to his back, and additional ether sealing wards had been placed over him.

    Out of desperation, Krayson had tried to pull more ether through the bond with Saveen. It came, but it was ripped away as soon as it arrived. Magic had abandoned him.

    Helpless and defeated, Krayson was forced to watch his masters and their Red Clerics die, one by one. It wasn't because of the gag in his mouth that he didn't speak. Elise could have left him free, and he wouldn't have been able to say a word. This numbness, this utter desolation, was far worse than mere ghosts of dead emotion. He would pay any price to feel something again, even if it was pain.

    With dread certainty, he knew that he would soon get his wish.

    The dominated blood runner approached the next in the line of Elise's chosen. This one was a swarthy young woman with green eyes and hair dyed black to hide her heritage. Elise had called her Semile. The bloodsong was bestowed upon her.

    "—Let this gift replace what was stolen from you,—" Elise said to her new arcanist. "—Rise and serve me as my Emerald Knight and her Ballista.—"

    Nearby, a green dragon cried out and thrashed among the broken benches of the Blood Council's chamber. That had happened with each new bonding, and yet, these dragons almost seemed to anticipate it. They accepted the pain as the cost of receiving something so precious as a dragon bond.

    They were fools, but Krayson no longer cared.

    "Release the power, my little soldier," Elise said kindly to Semile. She caressed the young woman's cheek as she spoke. "Use it only when needed. Your Ballista is loyal and came to me by its own will."

    Semile's green dragon rose unsteadily to his feet, panting and grinning as if he'd earned some kind of victory. Perhaps he had in a way. The Ballista endured his trial of the bond's pain, and now he'd earned his coveted shackles.

    The chamber was filled with the mighty, a score of them. They wore their true forms, though many had needed to reduce in size so they could all fit within the Blood Council's chamber.  Only Trell, Draxa, and Kimpo wore their human bodies.

    There was a group of ten mortals standing in a ring around Elise. Cardin stood with them. They each had brown skin, from dark to a mere tan. Not all had green eyes or blonde hair, but Elise had welcomed them as long-lost family. The half-breed children of Elise's enclave gazed upon their empress with adoration.

    "A fetching pack of mutts, aren't they?" Garret whispered into Krayson's ear. "Not one of them is old enough to remember fleeing Ejasta. Up until Cathis killed their parents and whisked them away, my dove was all they knew. It must have been absolutely dreadful, knowing what you were and required to hide it lest an assassin drop by." Garret sighed with insincere sympathy. "Absolutely dreadful. But now, rewarded."

    The dragon named Draxa walked past Krayson and Garret from where the captives were being held by a pair of brutish violets. Cardin's dragon pushed another blood runner in front of her. Krayson knew Brother Cyrus. They'd been initiates together and advanced on the same day of testing. Cyrus was thrown down before Elise, and Trell's foot stomped down again.

    Krayson watched his fellow blood runner's murder with glazed, unblinking eyes.

    He was to be the last to die. Elise wanted Krayson to see the Order destroyed. Punishment, she'd called it, for refusing the position in her new empire she'd offered him. Elise didn't seem at all concerned that what she had offered was to watch her destroy his home and murder everyone he knew.

    Perhaps she would have sent Krayson away while she did this, ostensibly on some vital errand, so he wouldn't find out her part in the attack. Or, she simply didn't care what he might have thought and would have expected unwavering obedience regardless. It was as if other people having needs and desires of their own was a foreign concept to her.

    "I must say, I expected more of a fight out of your fraternity," Garret said. "Winds, but we subdued many of your arcanists without much of a fuss at all. Nearly the entire Sanguine Tower belongs to us now. Very few of your brothers are still resisting. But don't misunderstand, dear sir." He leaned intimately close. "I made certain we killed a great many on our way up. Too many captives, and we might have been here all day before it comes to be my turn."

    Another death. Another Final Rite. Another arcanist knight for Elise.

    "I would wager you're curious of how my dove produced a populist revolution," Garret said. "You might remember from your history classes in blood mage school, but the Spired City has seen incidents rather like this one before. During the Nadian Rebellion, the Courtesans would say all sorts of vile things to rile up the goodfolk. A little emotional control magic here, a careful domination there, and they could convince the law-abiding, generally content masses of Althandor to commit any number of dastardly deeds. It would take the Courtesans months to orchestrate something of this scale, however, but you must have noticed that we've gained some impressive assistance in arcane endeavors since our last meeting."

    Shouting and chants continued to rise up from the lower levels. It sounded less angry and more jubilant now. The mob had earned a great victory against the hated blood mages that had "exploited" them for so many years.

    "They're all doomed, of course." Garret chuckled. "Any moment now, the city guard will storm the place, perhaps with reinforcements from the local legion. A good friend of mine assured me that their arrival would be delayed long enough for them to be too late to save your Order. But you mustn't tell anyone, dear sir. My dove is willing to believe that I arranged for this window of opportunity." He held a finger over his lips. "Shh, dear sir. I rather want to see what manner of reward my dove has in store for me. Just between you, myself, and the corpses, I believe I'm this much closer to my ambition of bedding royalty."

    What did any of that matter? Krayson cared as little for Garret's conquests as he did for Prince Vintus' treason. He only saw the last blood runners of the Order being slaughtered like pigs and their bloodsongs given to daanmen.

    Garret grew irritated. "Come now, boy. I'd like to see something of a reaction. I know you blood mages have next to nothing of humanity left in you, but I would hope to see at least a little squirming."

    No humanity? Something about that struck Krayson as funny. He smiled around the gag, but his laughter sounded more like a moan.

    "Oh dear," Garret lamented. "It appears he went and broke. That takes the fun right out of the occasion. Don't you think so, sweetling?"

    Draxa was bringing a fresh victim forward. She paused to give Garret an arched eyebrow before returning to her task.

    Garret bit his lower lip as he leered at Draxa's backside. "Ravishing creature. The saloon boy has the most blustering blessed luck I've ever seen."

    Another death. Another Final Rite. Another arcanist knight for Elise.

    Draxa walked by them again to fetch another victim. Garret tried to fondle her as she passed but fell short. Draxa skewered Garret with a venomous look over her shoulder but took no other action against his boorishness.

    "Drat. Fate has his ways of playing his games with me. Being given a man-dragon? Of all the misfortunes."

    Krayson's unresponsiveness produced another disappointed sigh from Garret.

    "This won't do," Garret grumbled. "I've tried everything short of using a domination to coax a reaction, but my dove must be rubbing off on me. After seeing her results with the Huntress, It simply doesn't have the same appeal to use spellcraft to get what I want anymore. Better if it's your choice, coerced or otherwise."

    Another death. Another Final Rite. Another arcanist knight for Elise.

    Krayson hoped Elise would run out of dragons to grant her followers soon. He was ready for this Hell to end.

oOo

    The Watchman killed. Cardin flinched. He had with each death, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. Semile and the others tried to hide their discomfort with varying degrees of success. Cardin didn't bother. He wanted to let the horror of it saturate him. Take him over.

    Every blood runner the Watchman crushed served to remind Cardin of that night eight years ago. Each killing reminded him of Althandi spears driving down into pleading Aleesh, of spellfire consuming families, and of the day Cathis came to murder Cardin's mother and brothers.

    It would be wrong to hide from what he and Elise did in the name of revenge. That would dishonor the memories of those who had passed Beyond. Cardin let himself flinch every time the Watchman killed a blood runner, because it was a kinder fate than what his family suffered. Remembering it, living it again, allowed him to feel as if he'd earned his ether back.

    While the dominated blood runner pulled the bloodsong out of another victim, Cardin looked down at his hands. He blinked, pushing his eyes to see deeper into the world than most mortals ever would. Only a few minutes had gone by, so he wasn't used to having his ethersight again.

    Like glowing bits of string hanging in the air, woven in tight and sinuous rivers, the Ethereum Weave came to life around him. It didn't replace his normal vision, nor did it conceal it. Rather, his sight felt enhanced. Completed. He could see the world as it really was, a tapestry of essence and ether.

    The Weave folded and cradled around physical things, pressing against the threads to form imprints. When Cardin focused, he could look into the ebb and flow of essences within those imprints. He saw how each essence resonated through them with its own unique frequency. A rapid staccato for fire essence, a slow thrum for earth. Looking upon them felt like seeing sound or tasting color. He experienced magic with every sense he had. Compared to sorcerers, even other arcanists were unable to know the truest form of magic.

    Cardin let his ethersight fade. Holding it longer than a few moments could get overwhelming, like eyes grown sensitive to light or skin rubbed raw.

    He indulged himself by letting his ether quest out from him. He pushed it outward using purest will alone. He found the threads in the Weave over his hands. He demanded that the Weave pulse at a rapid staccato, the Weave obeyed, and small tongues of flame burst alight in his palms. Manifesting sorcery after eight years of emptiness felt like a soothing balm on his soul.

    With a start, Cardin saw that Elise was watching him play around with his new ether. He closed his palms over the flames to snuff them out. Before he could offer an apology for his distraction, Elise smiled knowingly.

    She was taller than most women— than many men, in fact. Cardin had almost forgotten how tall the pureblooded could be. Her hair was tied back, and Elise had donned raiment once worn by the First Summit of legend. At last, she took her rightful place as the beloved sovereign of the Aleesh.

    "Don't let me interrupt, my little soldier," Elise said, indicating Cardin's spellcraft. "It's been a long time for you. I did the same when I got mine back."

    Cardin wiped at his eyes and nodded.

    "How's it feel?" Elise asked him.

    Cardin looked down at his hands again. "Good. Winds... I mean, flames. It's stronger than I remember."

    Elise smiled. "Yours is special. Your bloodsong came from the Father of Sorcerers herself."

    "It's more than that," he said. Cardin's eyes sought out Draxa. Their bond was mere minutes old— it wasn't possible while he was a daanman— and he could feel her presence inside him. Her stores of ether burned alongside his own. It felt as if a storm that crackled with jagged lighting separated the two reservoirs.

    Elise nodded in full understanding. "Master your bond, Cardin, and you'll soon be stronger than anythin' the Althandi send against us."

    "Yes, my empress," Cardin said.

    The dominated blood runner bestowed a bloodsong to Temri. She was the last. For now.

    Elise spoke in the Aeldenn Tones to lock the bond in place, a dragon roared in pain, and a tempestuous spell echo crashed against Cardin. Once the bond settled, Elise turned to Cardin again.

    "Your dragon has earned its place in our empire," she said. "For bringing so many others to me. I now have twenty dragons, and more are on their way. That comes with a responsibility, little soldier. You're my one and only Moonstone Knight. You remember what that means?"

    "I do," Cardin said. "I'll find you more knights to forge."

    Elise touched him on the cheek and kissed his forehead. "Out of everyone, you did the most in the last eight years. You built a little kingdom of your own in Eastrun. The riots couldn't've started if you didn't show me where the Althandi could be pushed. You knew who to control to bring it to boil. You made this possible."

    Cardin's eyes went to the pile of red-robed corpses.

    Elise turned from him and walked the ring of her new arcanist knights. She paused to look each in the eye and touch them on the face or shoulder. "A Moonstone to command my knights. An Emerald to tear down the citadels of my enemies, and an Amber to rebuild my own. Two Rubies to serve as the vanguard, and two Garnets to be the rearguard. Two Amethysts to hold what I conquer." She came to the youngest of the enclave survivors. Temri was only fourteen and given a rose dragon. "And you, sweet girl. You're my Beryl Knight. You'll be stayin' with me."

    Cardin swallowed. He'd kept tabs on Temri over the years, same as all the others. She was a scrawny thing, painfully thin from malnutrition. Green eyes sunken and blonde hair cut raggedly. After their home was eradicated, Cardin had been worried that Temri would vanish like so many other young girls in the lower levels of Eastrun. His fears had been misplaced. She was savvy as a demon. Sources Cardin trusted said her neighbors never bothered Temri once they learned what she did to people who crossed her.

    When Cardin took Elise to the filthy slum Temri made her lair in, the empress needed only to call her name once. Like a trained hydra, Temri slithered out of her hole and went wordlessly into Elise's arms. Now, the killer child looked up at Elise with reverence and smiled. It made Cardin shiver. Temri scared the Hell out of him.

    "Cardin," Elise said.

    The sound of his name startled him. "Yes?"

    "Knights can wait. I'll place my Huntress under your command. Use Draxa and Kimpo to recruit more of the mighty to my cause." Elise turned to look at the gagged blood runner off to the side with Garret. "Try to get me some blues. I'll be needin' Sapphires to defend the lands we take from the Althandi."

    "I'll get it done." Cardin hesitated. "But, what good will dragons do us if we don't have the people to bond to them?"

    "That's not gonna be a problem much longer," Elise said. She caressed the Huntress lovingly. "Because of dear Kimpo, I know where we're goin' next. Isn't that right?"

    "Yes, my empress," the Huntress said. "An enclave of Aleesh hides in Melcia."

    "Melcia?" Cardin asked. "Easier to find them in Hell than blustering... I mean, blazing Melcia. How's she even know they're there?"

    Kimpo stiffened, turning her fierce, green eyes on Cardin. "I asked a question of the White Lady, a goddess that resides in Altier Nashal. Any can ask a single question of her and receive a true answer in return. I asked where the future of Shan Alee could be found. The goddess told me of Aleesh living in hiding on the northern frontier of Melcia, aided by a clan of shifters."

    Cardin frowned. "How in the Five Kingdoms did you manage to get a sit down with a goddess?"

    Kimpo's eyes went glassy, her stare now a thousand leagues away. "I was shown the way by... by my..."

    Elise stepped in front of her. "It doesn't matter, my Huntress. I've given you a job, and you'll do it. Won't you?"

    The red dragon's gaze snapped into focus. She looked to Elise and nodded. "Of course, my empress. The Eldest of the blues is in Sholis. Almo the Rampart."

    Elise smiled. "Lead my Moonstone Knight to him. You will bring the Rampart to me."

    "Almo is said to be stubborn," Kimpo said.

    Trell scoffed. "Understatement."

    "One way or the other," Elise said, "I won't have another Eldest join my niece. Bring him to me. Alive, if you can. Dead, if he's a fool like my last blue."

    The Watchman shifted his feet, a motion so slight that Cardin was sure he was the only one to notice it. He'd overheard enough from the others to know that the blue in question, the Bastion, had been Trell's ward. Or mate. Hard to tell, but Cardin wasn't all that interested. The only other thing he'd learned was that the blood runner Garret was toying with was responsible for losing Elise's sole blue dragon.

    Something about that kid seems familiar, Cardin mused, sparing him a glance. The young blood runner was staring at the pile of his dead brothers. Rather, staring past them. He had the look of someone who'd just seen his whole world end.

    Cardin shook his head and looked away. He supposed he could relate, but the Sanguine Fraternal Order had earned this fate after their part in that night.

    Hope you like running the saloon, Malkolm, Cardin thought. I don't think I'll be back anytime soon. But, if I hear about you giving Hap and the girls a hard time, I'll be back with a dragon to roast your sorry hide.

    Strange, but Cardin wasn't as reluctant to leave the saloon behind as he thought he'd be. Since that night, his run-down dive had been the first place that had ever felt like home to him. Regardless, now that Elise was back, he had no regrets in putting it behind him.

    Well, one regret. That girl.

    She'd disappeared in all the fuss, probably frightened off by Garret or the dragons that started piling in like it was a festival. Cardin chewed his lip with worry. Saveen was probably scared witless, what with the riots and everything. If there were such things as guardian spirits, Cardin prayed they'd help Saveen get out of Althandor and to this Altieri knight of hers. And soon.

    Saveen was a weirdo, but she was a pretty one. Cardin didn't think of himself as the sort to get all twitterpated over an odd-duck damsel, but there'd been something special about her. Maybe things would work out that Cardin could poke around and look for Saveen, make certain she got out of the kingdom, and maybe convince her to stick close to him where he could keep her safe.

    Flames knew, the Spired City wasn't going to be safe for anyone in the months ahead.

    While the rest of Elise's chosen spread out to see to their appointed tasks, Cardin walked to where Draxa was talking with Semile's green dragon. The Ballista's gray scales were dull and scarred, but the geometric patterns of green all over him were polished to a gleam.

    "Draxa," Cardin said. He was unused to the foreign-sounding word on his tongue.

    His dragon turned towards his voice. A smile pulled at her full lips, and she regarded him with disturbing, pure black eyes. Draxa dismissed the Ballista, who bowed his head before withdrawing.

    "Yes, master?" Draxa asked with a demure curtsy.

    Cardin swallowed. Draxa's voice, rich and sultry, had a seductive timbre that drove away any thoughts of Saveen. Draxa was gorgeous despite her inhuman appearance. If Cardin sat down and worked out an image of his ideal woman, the end result wouldn't be far from what stood before him. Lose the black eyes, obviously. Definitely get a little color into that skin. Otherwise, Draxa was the most beautiful creature he'd ever lain eyes on.

    "I wanted to know something, love," Cardin said, doing his best to maintain his confident tone. "Haven't had much chance to get to know each other yet and all."

    Draxa blinked slowly, showing off her long eyelashes. "Ask me anything you wish."

    "Trell's the Watchman. Kimpo's the Huntress. Elise didn't mention what you are."

    "Has our beloved told you much of my kind?" Draxa asked.

    "Your kind? Of dragons?"

    She gave a soft laugh along with another smile. "No, master. Of the kind of dragon I am."

    "The whites?"

    Draxa clucked her tongue in playful chastisement. "I am not so common as that, master. Ivory dragons, such as myself, were considered a high breed in Shan Alee. Second only to the Imperials. Our Moonstone Knights, the greatest generals and tacticians in the empire, came solely from the second and first summits."

    "Ah. I guess a half-Nadian street ruffer is a step down from there. I'd be Fourth Summit at best."

    Draxa lay a hand on his wrist. Cardin's flesh burst with sensation at the light touch of her skin against his. "Not at all. My Moonstone Knight has the empress' love. It is only right that I give you mine."

    Cardin fought to keep his eyebrows from rising. He heard an implication in that statement. He covered his reaction by clearing his throat. "I'll try to make good on those high hopes, in that case."

    "I am certain you will," Draxa said with a wink. "But, you asked of my name. I am afraid it does not translate well from the old songs to Althandi. Fortunately, the land I lived in once spoke a tongue with a similar word."

    "You come from a bit south, right? From Primus?"

    "Secundus," she corrected, "but they and Tarsia were all three once a single kingdom before Althandor came. They spoke a beautiful language in those days, with passion in their forum halls and with reverence in the temples. There, I called myself Draxa the Inamorata."

    Cardin had to shake his head to keep himself from being drawn into her voice. "So what's it mean?"

    Her smile grew coy. "Inamorata is translated literally as 'enamored', but that would be a poor way to say it. A lover. A mistress. A woman in love and meant to be loved."

    Cardin's cheeks warmed, and he recognized what she was doing to him. He favored her with his most charming smile. "You're good."

    "What do you mean, master?"

    "I spend a lot of time watching lasses and their honey spoons, love. You could tempt any noble you wanted with that tongue of yours."

    She licked her lips suggestively to maintain her coquettish front. Draxa didn't seem at all put out that Cardin saw through the act. If anything, she looked delighted that he appreciated her skill. "What gave me away?"

    "You layered it on a tad thick for the likes of me. Nobles expect the fawning. Lowborn curs are happy with just a wink and a sway."

    "I will remember that."

    "So, you show up in my saloon right when we needed a solid charmer to move forward with Elise's plan. How long have you been in the city again?"

    Draxa's grin widened. "Oh, you are good, master. I've indeed been in your city for several days now. Myself and many of those I brought with me. I awaited the most opportune moment to reveal myself to our beloved."

    "Maybe thinking a high-bred ivory might be picked as her personal dragon over a certain red?"

    "I've no delusions, master. The empress will hold out for a silver at the very least, but I believe she will settle for no less than a gold. I would, however, wish for my Moonstone to be someone close to her. A favored apprentice, perhaps?"

    Cardin decided that he and Draxa understood one another perfectly. Still, there was something in the way she looked at him, an underlying fear, that gave him pause. Draxa was afraid of him, for what he could do to her if he wished to. The mighty hadn't mentioned it where he could overhear, but Cardin could deduce from the veiled looks they gave the Huntress. They were aware of how Kimpo's zealous loyalty to the Dragon Empress came about.

    Doesn't really matter, Cardin thought. Nothing to hide, nothing to fear.

    In any case, insuring loyalty was the purview of the Onyx Knights, not the Moonstones.

    As for the current order of Onyxes, Garret hopped to his feet. Cardin looked his way, hiding his nervous distaste for Lord Garret the Merovech. He didn't like that Elise's first knight was Althandi, without a single drop of Aleesh blood. Cardin was ashamed of his own impurity, so how could that man stand beside the empress as if he had more right to be there than anyone?

    "I see your work is more or less over, dove," Garret said. "Might I suggest we close the day's events with one last bestowment?"

    Elise's lip curled in displeasure. She turned from her conversation with Temri to look at the opera singer. "The Order isn't gone yet, fancy man. Pockets of the monsters are still holdin' out below. I want Krayson to be the last one when he dies."

    "Oh, don't be so insufferably dramatic, dove," Garret sighed.

    The comment earned him angry glares from all corners of the chamber. The new knights and the dragons glowered. Garret ignored or was ignorant of the effect he had on Elise's servants.

    Garret pointed his cane to where the blood runner knelt in a daze. "I'm quite sure I've no need to remind you, but dear Krayson has surprised us before. I assure you that no one in the Spired City wants to see him suffer more than I do, but I'm perfectly content with just seeing him dead. Making a point is all well in good, dove, however there's something to be said of cutting out the infection before it has chance to fester." His cane swept over the chamber to encompass everyone present. "Besides, the lesson you wish to teach will only be seen by those who have no need of it."

    Cardin took a step towards him. How dare he speak to the Dragon Empress in that way? He had half a mind to use Garret to test half-remembered pyromancy. Draxa's arm around his chest stopped Cardin short.

    "Wait," she whispered. Draxa clung to his side, pressing her body against him. "Not until our beloved commands it, master."

    Cardin frowned at Draxa, then he looked to Elise for permission. The empress was silent, her eyes distant as if listening to someone far away.

    Elise grimaced. "Hate to say it, but you're talkin' sense, fancy man. Bring him. I'll make certain he doesn't have any more tricks up his sleeve. Then, you get what you want from him."

    Garret flashed a grin full of white teeth. "As you will, dove. Trell, be a peach and bring dear Krayson to our beloved. Ah, day of days. How I've longed for this."

    Elise turned to her knights while Trell slung Krayson over his shoulder. The blood runner didn't struggle in the least.

    "The rest of you," Elise said in a loud voice, "our window is closin'. Let the peasants finish the slaughter before the king shows up to give them theirs. None of you are ready for the royal assassins, and I'm not gonna risk you in a fight you can't win yet. First sign of beasty, blue eyes, you fly out on dragon back. Am I understood?"

    Cardin and the others murmured their assent.

    "We won a victory today," Elise said. As Trell tossed the blood runner at her feet, she looked down at the pitiful wretch with a triumphant smirk. "We won't let it slip away now, or ever again."

    Elise plucked the Dekaam spike from Krayson's back. She jabbed it again into a spot beneath his throat. Her eyes closed in concentration.

    "A holding spell. What're you hidin'? Let's do away with that."

    Elise used her primal art, a discipline gleaned from the proteurim thousands of years ago. She used it to destroy Krayson's spellcraft. A faint echo preceded a slight warping in the air in front of Krayson. Bundles of clothes materialized out of a pocket within the Weave. None of it looked like anything more than luggage, but they were women's clothes for some reason. Enough for a few changes, two pairs of mist goggles, and a familiar coat and fedora.

    Cardin barked a surprised shout and tore away from Draxa's embrace. He rushed over to pick the hat off the floor. Elise stepped back, frowning in bemusement.

    There was the slight notch cut into the rim from where Od's knife missed Cardin's face by an inch last year. Familiar patterns of salt stains along the band. The scent of old rum, Nbala's cooking, and five years of hard work building a new life. This was Cardin's hat, and he'd last seen it on the head of a pretty girl in need of a helping hand.

    Cardin held his fedora in a white-knuckled grip. He glared down at the blood runner. "Where did you get this?" he demanded.

    Slowly, Krayson's eyes focused on the hat.

    "Where?" Cardin shouted.

    When no answer came, Cardin seized Krayson by the shirt collar and hauled him to his feet. Garret's hand clamped down on Cardin's wrist, but he didn't care. Nor even for Elise calling for him to stop.

    Cardin held the hat in front of Krayson's face, pulling his eyes to it. He spoke in a deathly soft voice. "I promised her I'd save her. If you did something to that girl, Blood Runner, I'll make what Master Deveaux does seem a relief."

    Krayson looked Cardin in the eye and smiled around his gag. Cardin tore it off him.

    "More broken promises," Krayson murmured. "Mortals break oaths every day."

    "You're off your nut," Cardin snarled. "Where'd you get this?"

    "She's seen more broken promises than anyone. From protectors. From masters. From me." Krayson leaned forward. "What in the embrace of hellfire makes yours so special?"

    Cardin punched him.

    Krayson sprawled on the ground while Cardin shook feeling back into his hand. He'd busted a knuckle on the blood runner's jaw. He wasn't used to having magic again and should have fortified himself with a self-enchantment. That was a mistake he remedied.

    "Bad form, good sir," Garret said. He pulled a thin blade from his cane and held it to Cardin's neck. "I've put quite a lot of effort towards apprehending this miscreant, and I would appreciate it if you refrained from damaging him."

    Elise put a finger to the tip of the sword cane. She pushed it away from Cardin's throat with a smooth motion. "Don't be forgettin' who's in charge here, fancy man. Same for you, Cardin. Explain yourself."

    Cardin swallowed. "I'm sorry, my empress. He... I gave this hat to..."

    His explanation was interrupted. Krayson drew their attention back to him when he arched his back on the ground and gasped. His red eyes came alive once again. By long-dormant reflex, Cardin reached for his ethersight. What he saw was impossible. Or it should have been for the blood runner, unless he was bound to a dragon. Krayson's imprint burned with ether.

    "No one move, please," a woman said.

    Cardin raised his eyes to find Elise being held by the throat. The pale, white-haired woman's grip on the empress' neck was light, even tender. Cardin took a step back from her, his hand going to the long knife on his belt.

    "Tut  tut," the woman said, wagging a finger at him. "I did ask nicely."

    "Starra," Garret hissed, the blood runner forgotten for the moment. "Not here. Not now. Not you!"

    "Not happy to see me, young master? I'm crushed."

    "You surely will be," Garret said. His face twisted into a mask of rarely-seen anger.

    "I don't know who you are," Elise said in Starra's grip, "but you've just made the biggest mistake of your wretched life."

    "It must appear that way," Starra said. She made a show of lolling her head from side to side, taking in the dragons and arcanist knights stalking towards her. "Just me and my ripped gown against... one, two, three... Twelve dragon-to-knight pairings and a few leftover mighty besides."

    "You have three seconds before I kill you," Elise warned.

    Starra rested her chin on Elise's shoulder and inhaled deeply. She grinned, showing her fangs. "Two more than I need, Your Majesty. Or, better to say, than she needs."

    Trell howled with pain, and Garret collapsed the next moment while clutching at his chest from the drain of healing. A girl shoved the Watchman down. She was nude and had a bloodied knife in her hand. Her blue skin and red eyes were different from before, but Cardin recognized Saveen. She must have approached unnoticed in a smaller form before changing to attack Trell.

    She's a dragon? Cardin thought, shocked into inaction. Winds take me, Saveen is the Bastion?

    All she had said when he found her, of a master and of being frightened of Aleesh, made sense now. Perfect, horrifying sense. Winds and storms, but Cardin owed Malkolm a drink. He really had seen a fangblade in that shed.

    Saveen knelt down beside Krayson, but her red eyes never left Cardin. "Time to go, master," she whispered, then she became her true self. With the blood runner gripped in her talons, Saveen leapt straight upwards and beat her wings. She shot up through the breach in the chamber ceiling and into the open sky.

    Garret howled with impotent fury as he watched his prize get carried away. He rounded on Starra, who had released Elise when the Bastion escaped. "I'll kill you for this!"

    "How?" Starra asked with a smirk. "I was never here."

    Her body became a cloud of dust and vanished.

    Cardin looked with his ethersight. He saw lingering traces of light and earth essence. She'd been a projected image all along, tangible but harmless, and if Cardin had only thought to use his ethersight, he might have seen through the ruse. Starra had a mastery of illusory spellcraft that he'd never witnessed before.

    "What are you all waitin' for," Elise growled. She glared upwards with fire in her eyes, and her voice rose to a scream. "After them!"