Anna found them at the beach.

Then again, she thought, it would have been difficult to miss them; a raised dais had been erected on the sand, and flames shot up like fireworks. A dragon screeched. Everything smelled of salt air and hot metal and sweat. She pushed her way through the knot of people, leaning against the ropes.

Mack and Alfie Agnirian circled one another. Mack was twirling his sword, his face narrowed in concentration, while Alfie held twin axes. Or maybe it was the other way around; she could never quite tell them apart.

One twin lunged. The other parried.

"Not bad," a female voice said.

Anna turned.

Seraena stood behind her, dressed in black armour. Her dark hair was braided away from her face, threaded with golden ribbon, and a small dragon cuff curled around one ear. She was wearing a crown, Anna noted, although she was also wearing shabby sandals and her cheek was smudged with dirt.

Anna crossed her arms. "Who's your rukka on?"

Seraena considered this. "Mack."

"Alfie's smaller," Anna said.

"And smarter." Seraena shielded her eyes, looking up at the dais. "He knows how to wind his brother up. Watch."

Anna squinted up at the raised platform. Sure enough, Alfie leaned in, his voice low and taunting, and Mack growled. The larger twin barrelled forward. Alfie waited until the last second and then jumped aside, spinning around to club his brother in the back. Cheers rose as Mack collapsed to the mat.

Anna raised an eyebrow. "Good call, Your Radiance."

Seraena gave her a wry smile. "Alfie and I spent most of our childhoods hiding in plant pots. Eventually, you learn to fight back." She glanced around, lowering her voice. "Have you had any success with your hunt for God-Slayer?"

Anna shook her head. "Not yet."

She and Ryne had combed through dozens of books, each of which was more confusing than the last. God-Slayer was a myth, and God-Slayer was real; God-Slayer could only be wielded by one person, and God-Slayer could be wielded by everyone; God-Slayer was forged by the gods, and God-Slayer was made to destroy them.

It was maddening.

What they needed, Anna thought, was someone good with books. What they needed...

A lump rose in her throat.

What they needed was Camille. Which wasn't going to happen, obviously.

She met Seraena's gaze. "Have you had any news from Wynterlynn?"

"Not yet," Seraena said. "The seas are choppy, and most ravens would struggle to make the journey." She touched her dragon earring: a quick, instinctive gesture. "We're reliant on the next boat to dock, I'm afraid."

"And my proposal?" Anna asked. "Have you considered it?"

Seraena pursed her lips. When she spoke, her voice was measured.

"Have you ever played Dragon Scales?" Anna shook her head, and Seraena nodded. "No, I don't suppose you would have; they don't have it in Wynterlynn. My uncle taught it to me when I was very young. The rules are simple: the first player to find the matching set of dragons in the card deck wins."

Anna shielded her eyes. "I don't care much for games of chance."

"Nor do I," Seraena said. "But there's a way that you can stack the deck to increase your odds of winning." Her eyes were warm amber. "That was the most important lesson that Arlo taught me: do not begin a game without the advantage."

A knot formed in her chest. "So you won't join us?"

"Not without the sword," Seraena said.

"God-Slayer hasn't been seen in a millennium."

Seraena looked away. Anna's heartbeat picked up.

"We need you." Fuck it. She was putting her cards on the table. "Lucia's strong enough to decimate entire kingdoms. What do you think will happen once she's finished conquering Wynterlynn and Lucerna?" She swept her arms out. "This would make a pretty good place for a beach house, don't you think?"

Seraena's mouth tightened. "We can look after ourselves."

Anna's laugh was hollow. "Yeah. We thought that, too."

"Without the sword—"

"The sword is a myth," Anna said. "The odds of it existing are astronomical. The odds of finding it are even slimmer."

"Then you'll have to find another way to stack the deck." Seraena must have seen the look on her face because her voice softened. "I have a responsibility to my riders, Annalise. I will not send them into a losing battle. I hope you can understand that."

Anna dragged the tip of her sandal through the damp sand. The triangle could have been a raven's wing, or the curve of a crown. That was the funny thing about a situation, she thought; everyone could interpret it differently and still be right.

Footsteps approached. Mack and Alfie appeared, sweaty and breathless.

Seraena smiled. "Good fight."

Mack glowered. "He cheated."

"I did not," Alfie said, looking affronted.

Mack cuffed his brother on the head. "You're such a dragon prick."

"What's a dragon prick?" a small voice asked.

They all turned. Teagan was pushing through the crowd, dressed in a frilly pink dress covered in pastry crumbs. She was also, Anna noted, holding what appeared to be a ruby bracelet and a man's pocket watch.

Perhaps their lessons had gone a little too well.

"It's..." Mack looked at Anna desperately. "Er, well it's..."

Anna smirked. "Go on."

Mack scratched the back of his head. "It's something that a male dragon possesses. Something he's very protective of."

Teagan wrinkled her nose. "Like treasure?"

"Yes!" Mack snapped his fingers. "Yes. Exactly like treasure."

Teagan brightened. "I want to have a dragon prick."

Mack made a choking sound. His eyes seemed to bug out, Anna noted with amusement, like bubbles popping in bathwater; it was delightful to watch. There was a commotion up front, and her smile melted away.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Alfie squinted up at the dais. "Kane and Ryne are going to spar. Now that Lucia's building an army of Dayweavers..." He shrugged. "Figure it's time to learn how to kill one without letting them use their creepy dream magic on us."

Incredulity filled her. "And Ryne's agreed to this?"

"It's just a demonstration," Alfie said.

Anna raised an eyebrow. She doubted that either Ryne or Kane were capable of doing just anything; each boy put all his heart into something, or none of it at all. She watched as they circled each other. There was something about it, Anna thought, that reminded her of two feral cats trapped in a barrel.

"The most important thing," Ryne was explaining, "is to not let a Dayweaver touch you. Some of us can throw our webs, but most of us need to make contact with bare skin to use our magic." He wiggled his fingers. "They'll aim for the head or hands — those are the places that your armour doesn't cover. Defend them."

Kane crossed his arms. "How far can you throw your web?"

Ryne considered. "Depends."

"On what?"

"How tired I am," Ryne said. "How much food I've had." His smile was a sharp blade. "How much I want to kill the other person."

Kane looked bored. "Take a guess. On average."

Ryne shrugged. "A few feet."

"Go on, then." Kane stepped back, holding his arms out. "Let's see."

Ryne's face was stony. "There's no point. As I said, most Dayweavers have to make skin-to-skin contact."

Kane smiled. "Oh, don't hold back on my account."

"Let me repeat myself, Hillsbrook." Ryne took a lazy step forward. "I'm not average. You will be fighting average Dayweavers." He lifted a shoulder. "I don't want to waste my energy flattening you when I don't need to."

Kane's mouth curled at the edges. It was a small gesture, Anna thought, so imperceptible that most people would miss it. But she knew that expression. Kane wore it when he was about to claim the largest bed, or to take the last cookie. Rourke used to call it his "I'm-about-to-get-what-I-want" expression.

Kane took a step forward.

"And Lucia?" His voice was soft. "I bet she doesn't have to make skin-to-skin contact." Silence fell, and Kane stretched his arms wider. "Go on, Delafort. Do your worst." His smile was a taunt. "Unless you're afraid to lose."

Ryne crossed his arms. "You really want to make this a real fight?"

"You can still bow out," Kane said. "Nobody would blame you."

Ryne's mouth flattened. "Call your dragon."

"What?"

"In a real fight," Ryne said calmly, "you'd have a dragon." He rolled up his sleeves, the veins in his arms flexing. "Call him."

Kane's gaze flicked over him. "You're not wearing armor."

Ryne shrugged. "I don't need any."

Kane smiled. Then he looked up at the sky and whistled.

A roar split the sky. There was the powerful beating of wings, and then Hellart landed on the dais. Anna tensed. Even now, she wasn't used to dragons tumbling out of the sky. Wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to it.

Mack looked gleeful. "Five rukka says that Delafort becomes human barbecue."

"I don't know." Alfie's lavender eyes were thoughtful. "He looks fast."

"Fine." Mack leaned closer. "Ten says that Delafort lands the first blow, but Fli—" He caught himself. "Kane takes it all."

Alfie considered. "Deal."

The twins shook.

Kane swung on to his dragon. Ryne raised his hands.

Silence fell.

Kane moved first. He swooped toward Ryne, wielding a sword. An iron sword, Anna realized, not a wooden one; brilliant. Neither boy had the foresight to blunt their weapons. Of course they hadn't. Hellart snapped at Ryne's shoulder, and he dropped to his knees, rolling under the dragon with surprising speed.

Kane lunged again. Ryne dodged.

Hellart plunged like an arrow. Ryne waited until the last second and then kicked up a cloud of dust, blinding the dragon. He swiped at Kane's free arm; the other boy let out a frustrated bellow, diving sideways. Flames shot into the air.

Seraena raised an eyebrow. "Should somebody put a stop to this?"

"Oh, no," Anna said, leaning against the ropes. "Best to let them get it out."

Kane lunged again. This time, Hellart's teeth caught Ryne's shoulder, ripping into his shirt; blood speckled the ground. Ryne stumbled back. The crowd roared its approval, and the knot in Anna's chest tightened.

Gods above. They really were going to kill each other.

Mack must have come to the same conclusion, because he clapped a large hand over Teagan's eyes. The younger girl howled. Then she elbowed him in the balls.

Mack hissed out a breath. "Ow."

Teagan darted forward, freeing herself. Anna held out a hand.

"Good shot, pipsqueak," she said.

They high-fived. Mack grumbled something that sounded distinctly like ducking royals. Which was, Anna felt, a bit rich, coming from a royal himself.

Ryne rose. Blood dripped from his shoulder, falling like red raindrops. Golden thread slithered around his ankles, and there was something wild and feverish about his face. Hellart lunged again. A blast of flame filled the air. Ryne jumped aside, twisting in the air; a golden rope snapped out, cutting through the dragon.

Hellart plunged to the ground, his eyes fluttering shut.

Kane made an inhuman noise. He leapt off the dragon, wrenching a sword from his hip. "If you've killed my dragon, Delafort, I sword to the gods—"

"Calm down, Hillsbrook." Ryne waved a hand. "He's sleeping."

Snores filled the beach. A few people snickered, and Kane's expression turned murderous. Ryne raised his hands; the golden bands grew thicker, slithering over each other like snakes, and Anna's head gave a painful throb. She massaged her temples.

Seraena's eyes narrowed. "Are you alright?"

"Just a headache," Anna lied.

Ryne jerked a finger. The golden band lashed sideways, and Kane leapt over it, swinging his sword. Ryne dodged. Their iron blades clashed, throwing off silver sparks in the blazing sunshine. Several people cheered.

Ryne stumbled. He was growing tired, Anna realized. Kane must have seen his opening because he lunged, jabbing his sword forward. And too late, Anna realized what Ryne's plan was: he wasn't tired.

He was playing with his food.

Ryne pinned the sword under his armpit. Then he reached forward, jerking Kane toward him. Kane's eyes went wide.

"You—"

Golden bands tightened around him. Kane's face went slack. His blue eyes took on a dreamy quality, and even now — even after seeing Ryne do this a half-dozen times before — a shiver slithered down her spine.

"Hush." Ryne's voice was melted chocolate. "That's better. Now get on your knees." Kane sunk obediently to the floor, staring up at him in adoration. "You want to make me happy, don't you?"

"More than anything," Kane said.

"Good." Ryne patted his cheek. "Look at the crowd."

Kane turned. There was something unnatural about the motion, Anna thought, like watching a puppet on a wire string. A hollow silence blanketed the beach.

"I want you to tell them something," Ryne said. "Can you do that for me?"

Kane nodded. A bead of drool fell from his mouth. Ryne leaned down, whispering in his ear. Just for a moment, Kane's face tightened, and then it was slack again, his thoughts chased away by happy dreams.

"Ryne Delafort is a god amongst men," Kane said.

Snickers went through the crowd. Alfie held out a hand.

"We said ten rukka, didn't we?" His voice was smug.

Mack sighed. "I hate you."

He rummaged in his pocket. Coins clinked together. Ryne took a step forward, and several people laughed as Kane crawled after him. Ryne held up a hand, and the other boy stopped immediately.

"Good." Ryne's voice was feather soft. "Now put your blade to your throat."

Kane raised his knife. The laughter died.

Mack sucked in a breath. "Gods above."

Seraena's hand jumped to her sword. "If Delafort makes one wrong move—"

"He won't," Anna said.

At least, Anna was reasonably sure he wouldn't. Public execution wasn't really Ryne's style these days. Unwarranted murder, even less so. Ryne stepped forward, his face like thunder, and her skull gave a painful throb. Then he lowered his sword.

"Do you see what you're up against?" His voice carried across the beach. "Do you see what they can do to you? I may be a king, but I'm only a mortal. Lucia is a goddess. She could do this to hundreds of you. Thousands."

Seraena stiffened. "He's exaggerating."

"Afraid not," Anna muttered. "Excuse me."

She turned. Seraena grabbed her shoulder.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Toilet," Anna lied.

She shook free of Seraena's grip, pushing aimlessly through the crowd. The throbbing in her temples was growing stronger. Invisible hands crushed her skull. On the dais, Ryne was pacing like an animal caught in a trap.

"You have to prepare yourselves," Ryne said. "You have to train."

The beach tilted, like a boat on the waves. Blood roared in her ears.

"Lucia's gathering an army," Ryne continued. "A powerful army. She has friends in Lucerna, and I suspect that she'll make friends in Lox. And when she invades these islands..." He paused, frowning at the crowd. "Cidarius?"

I'm fine, Anna tried to say.

And then everything was dark.