“I should go with them,” Camille said, face excited.

  Rowena’s heart plummeted, and she cursed it for ever getting involved in the first place. She wanted to say something withering, but her throat felt too choked.

  “Just listen,” Camille said, and Rowena knew her face objected even if her mouth wanted to seem indifferent. “I can find out what they’ve seen and what they know, then I’ll sneak away and join you again.”

  So, she didn’t want to leave. She only wanted to put herself in a dangerous situation, then return to Rowena. She didn’t want to leave. Rowena’s throat still rebelled but for a different reason. “No.” She licked her lips, but all her saliva had dried up. “You won’t be able to get away, and they might—”

  “They’re not going to hurt me,” Camille said. “Not once I play the damsel.” She stuck her bottom lip out, and her large eyes filled with tears. “I’m out here alone,” she said in a breathless little voice.

  Rowena shook her head and turned away. Even she wanted to take Camille in her arms at that look. “Then they definitely won’t let you slip away. They’ll be falling over themselves to protect you.”

  “Ha. I can do it.” She leaned in and kissed Rowena’s cheek, her hair brushing against Rowena’s neck before she sat back.

  Rowena went to make another argument, but Camille was gone, circling around the hill. Rowena hissed for her to come back, but she crept along quickly, then began to climb the hill from a different angle, shouting for help.

  “Shit.” Rowena ducked again and clenched a fist. She cradled her wounded arm, knowing the knights would do worse if she showed herself. That might put Camille in danger, too. The knights would find out she was a witch and think Camille was her familiar or something.

  A little voice tried to say she could have played the helpless damsel, too, but she’d rather chew glass.

  The knights had turned toward Camille, and a few shouted as they recognized the master researcher who’d helped them. Camille spoke loudly, nearly shouting, and Rowena almost laughed as her words floated down.

  “One moment I was standing with all of you in the field, and the next, I’m out here in the wilderness.” There were tears in her voice, and Rowena wondered if she should be worried that Camille could lie so well. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you. I’ve been so alone.” She swayed, and the knights leaped to steady her. She leaned on one woman with an axe strapped across her back. “Where is everyone else?”

  By their shaking heads, Rowena gathered that they didn’t know. When Camille mentioned seeing strange creatures flying overhead that reminded her of tales of dragons, the knights laughed, all of them condescendingly reassuring her that dragons weren’t real.

  Fantastic. They’d found a group even more ignorant than they were, and now Camille was stuck with them. As they walked down the other side of the hill, Rowena crept around to follow, cursing the knights and all their kind. She couldn’t merely watch the ground anymore. She had to sneak from cover to cover. Keeping her eyes fixed on Camille helped, but she bit the inside of her cheek as one knight after another offered Camille an arm or carried her over a bit of bog or lifted her on top of some rocks. Was that the kind of attention she wanted? She’d been with a knight before coming to the mountain; maybe the strong, stupid type was her favorite, and she was just passing the time with Rowena.

  But she hadn’t seemed happy with her knight. That kind of oaf might be fun for a tumble or two, but for the long term, Camille wanted someone intelligent, right?

  As Camille laughed at something the knights said, Rowena rethought that. Intelligent was one thing, but there was also strong and capable. But Rowena had proven herself to be those, too, hadn’t she? Maybe Camille had forgotten that.

  It wasn’t long before a mass of cloaked figures seemed to appear from the earth and attack the knights from all directions. Rowena grinned, hoping some of them might be hurt. But that meant Camille might be hurt, so she dug in her bag and tried to see what she could do.

  These attackers weren’t the flying creatures she’d seen, but a great deal of short, cloaked figures and some taller people in leather armor. Kells, she guessed, by the shaven heads and the hashmark tattoos down their arms. They sprang at the knights seemingly from the ground, and Rowena knew they’d come from the caverns, the entrances nearly covered by grass and peat. The ring of weapons echoed through the hills. The knights formed a rough circle with Camille in the center, and her searching eyes weren’t looking for more enemies but obviously checking to make sure Rowena was all right.

  Well, she didn’t need any knights to protect her.

  Rowena ripped up some grass and balled it in her fist. Then she dropped in a few leaves of clinging ivy, the heartiest, most stubborn plant she knew. When she’d made a rough sphere of the lot, she pressed a few snake scales in for fast movement. This didn’t need to be as precise as a dragonfly. She needed speed.

  Rowena threaded her life force into the ball, infusing it. Then she smashed it into the ground by her knees, feeling the jolt pass through the earth and to the grass at the edge of the fight.

  Pushed by the spell, the grass combined with the force of ivy and snake rocketed toward several cloaked figures, winding about their legs and pulling them down. Their hoods fell back, and Rowena gasped at the sight of their golden, scaly heads.

  “Dragon and human characteristics,” she whispered, remembering what Camille had said. “What in the bloody blazes is going on?”

  The creatures were soon cut down by the knights; the Kells followed, outnumbered. A cry from the other side of the fight drew Rowena’s attention. Another group of cloaked creatures had emerged and overwhelmed two knights who’d become separated by the rest. But instead of killing them, the creatures gathered them up and ran.

  If whoever was meshing dragons and humans needed more human parts, the knights were in for a terrible time. Rowena managed a jot of pity.

  The other knights gave chase, taking Camille with them. They balked at a dark entrance to the caverns below, but they rallied at once, a few lighting lanterns and then all plunging into darkness. Rowena grinned and lowered her hood as she followed. This was more like it.

  She hurried through the dark entrance, not able to keep in a sigh as the comforting stone surrounded her. When the lights stopped ahead, she paused. The knights had reached a large cavern, the ceiling dotted with holes that let the daylight stream in. Tunnels led off in all directions.

  “Which way?” one of the knights called.

  They split up, searching the ground and calling back the tracks they found. Camille kept peering at the tunnel they’d come from, and Rowena wished there was a way she could signal. If Camille didn’t stop looking this way, the knights would know someone was here, but her natural concern seemed to override her good sense.

  The knights couldn’t seem to tell which way the enemy had gone. The mud was too churned. Rowena waited until they all seemed distracted, then crept forward, hoping Camille could see her. She waved.

  Camille took a step toward her before squinting as if having trouble seeing. Rowena waved again. Camille stopped, her eyes widening, and Rowena sighed in relief. Then Camille discreetly pointed to one of the tunnels, her eyebrows raised.

  Rowena looked that way but saw nothing. She shook her head. Camille frowned and pointed again but signaling what? Rowena thought about her wave. Did Camille think she was signaling the right path? Shaking her head again, Rowena put both hands up.

  And noticed several knights looking right at her.

  “You,” one shouted. “Come out of there!”

  She couldn’t outrun them. She might be able to fight them all, but if she was caught or killed, that wouldn’t do Ember or Camille any good. Smothering a curse, Rowena licked her lips and crept forward.

  “Oh, dearie me, good knights,” she said, pitching her voice higher. “Thank goodness I’ve found some…strong warriors to help me. I am so lost.”

  They glanced at one another, but several put their weapons away. “Who are you?”

  “Me? I’m…” She swallowed. “I am…a milkmaid. I was, um, milking my cows when these…creatures set upon me.” She put her hands to her cheeks and tried to look terrified. “I got lost in these caves, so lost, and I’m…please, help.”

  Camille’s lips were pressed tightly together, and she was nearly vibrating, probably with repressed laughter. Rowena fought not to glare and ground her teeth.

  The knights continued to stare, though some seemed sympathetic to her imaginary plight. She remembered Camille’s stumble, put her hand to her head, moaned as if the life was leaving her, and crumpled to the floor.

  They hurried to surround her, calling for water, rubbing her hands to wake her and cradling her head. It was all she could do not to snap at them and bite the hands that smoothed water over her brow and cheeks. She heard one wonder why a milkmaid was carrying two packs and a bag slung around her torso. She’d have more explaining to do when she “woke up.”

  For now, she got to relax as they carried her to the center of the cavern. It was the least they could do for bringing her to this humiliating predicament.

  * * *

  Sydney told herself that there were lots of reasons for keeping secrets. It wasn’t like lying, which was inexcusable. No, secrets like Ember’s heritage were for the keeper’s own good. Once the knights had gotten to know Ember, they could understand what she was. But Sydney couldn’t just drop something like that on their shoulders and expect them to hold their feelings inside. Who knew what might get said?

  And that was doubly important with this group of recruits. They were young. The officers who’d been with them had been killed or kidnapped. They were grieving. They couldn’t absorb great slabs of new information all at once.

  And she had a job to do.

  She thought of the captives and wondered why they were taken. Hostages, surely. She glanced around the meager, hastily erected campsite. The knights could hold their own captives here, if they ever took any. Then there could be a prisoner exchange. That was no doubt what the enemy wanted, and it made her breathe easier; that was war she could understand, and she was so ready for that.

  But it wouldn’t be easy. This situation still wasn’t regular combat, not with lizard people in the mix. Or dragons. She shook her head at herself again. She should have let the knights know there was magic involved and possibly a dragon, but she’d known they’d laugh at her like they’d laughed at Ember. She would have shouted them down, but an outburst would have cost her respect.

  And, a little voice whispered, if she said it aloud, that meant dragons were possibly real, and the world did not have room for magical creatures anymore. Her life didn’t have room for anything so beyond the pale.

  Like a not-wholly-human lover? Ember’s heritage had meant a great deal when they’d first met, cropping up whenever the situation turned even slightly romantic. Somewhere along the way, that had ceased to matter, but now…

  Sydney cursed herself and rose. Now that the knights were settled, she had a difficult conversation to deal with. Ember had been wandering the edge of camp as if afraid to be part of it. She’d come in now and again to help where she was needed, but she looked like someone who’d accidently kicked her granny. Her head was down, face wrinkled in sadness, and tears stood in her eyes.

  “Stop being a piece of shit, Major,” Sydney muttered to herself. She cleared her throat. “Ember, a word, please?”

  Ember followed her as she limped to the side of camp. Ember’s expression turned wary, and Sydney hated that, too. It was as if she’d taken the eager, excited, carefree woman she’d met and ground her on a millstone.

  “I’m sorry,” Sydney said. “You see, these recruits don’t know anything about what’s going on, and they’re grieving, and I didn’t want to drop too much on them at once. You understand?”

  Ember only frowned.

  “It’s not forever,” Sydney said, feeling herself start to sweat. “If there are…dragons, well, they’ll find out for themselves, and I bet they’ll feel awfully silly for laughing.” She tried to chuckle and knew it stunk of desperation. “They’ll fall over themselves apologizing to you. And well, after we defeat, um…”

  “The dragon,” Ember replied flatly.

  “Well, yes, after that, well, you and I can…pick up where we left off.” She tried a brighter smile. “And then it’s up to us, well, you, or… Um, it’s none of their business who you are unless you want to tell them, which you don’t have to.”

  Ember stared for a long moment. “I thought you didn’t lie.”

  Sydney backed up, feeling as if she’d been kicked in the chest. She wanted to cry a hundred objections, plead her innocence, or get angry at even the hint of an accusation, but the pain in Ember’s eyes wouldn’t allow it. Before she could say anything, Ember walked away.

  Out of her life? Sydney watched, not knowing what to do if Ember should cross the camp’s boundary and keep going. Run after her? Leave the knights? She gasped at the feeling of being torn in two, but Ember stopped at the other edge of camp and helped one of the knights start a fire.

  Sydney breathed out slowly and tried to put all these personal problems from her mind. She had a job to do, and daylight was running out.

  She put together a tracking group. Her wound hurt less as time went on, and she managed to walk without limping too badly. She might not find where the prisoners were being held tonight, but they needed a trail to follow. She was beyond pleased when Ember decided to join them, but she took a position up front with the trackers. Sydney tried to force herself not to worry, to keep an eye on the column as they marched, but her gaze kept coming back to that lithe figure, her hair a red pop of color in this drab wilderness.

  Who wouldn’t want her? She had beauty, skill, endless curiosity, and boundless enthusiasm. Some of the knights had flirted with her already. And they wouldn’t care if their major had a lover as long as she wasn’t canoodling when she was supposed to be working. Many had known Camille was her lover, and though it was embarrassing when they thought she was having sex in her tent, she wasn’t embarrassed by Camille herself.

  Oh, shit. She was embarrassed by Ember. When they were alone, it didn’t matter, but among others, there’d be questions and rumors and looks. Teasing she could handle, but some would think Ember was magical, and not in the way Sydney knew she was. They’d see a romantic relationship as sleeping with the enemy, especially if they knew Ember’s connection to the Hawk.

  Not long ago, Sydney would have thought the same if one of the other knights had been in her predicament.

  And that made her so…angry.

  She surprised herself, but yes, she was angry at herself for feeling this way and at her environment for fostering these feelings. It wasn’t Ember’s fault that magic had created her; she was a fantastic person, and nothing else should have mattered. And here Sydney was, robbing herself of that fantastic person, robbing them both of comfort they desperately needed, all for an organization run by some asshole she was dashed well planning to overthrow.

  The knights would have to change in order to accept Sydney’s new ideas, to accept people like Ember. And if they wouldn’t, Sydney would go elsewhere, start a new order. And she needed to start working on that acceptance right now. She’d march up to Ember and kiss her.

  Or maybe not. She frowned and after a breath, told herself not to be a complete fool. She couldn’t stop this expedition to declare her love. The captives were depending on her, and the recruits would think her insane.

  Wait. Love? She couldn’t be in love with someone she barely knew.

  Could she?

  A call from one of the trackers shook her out of her reverie. She hurried forward and saw them pointing to something on the ground.

  “It’s a steep hole,” Juzail said. The bandage around his head was just beginning to soak through with blood from his ear, but he’d said it didn’t affect his eyes, so she’d let him come along.

  Private Diasi’s legs poked out of the hole, and as Sydney watched, she came wriggling out, dragging a lantern behind her. She stood as tall as she could, not quite reaching Sydney’s chin, and tried to brush the dirt off her tabard but smeared it instead. “Goes down into a big cavern, Major,” she said. “Tracks everywhere and multiple tunnels.”

  Sydney nodded slowly. “That’s how they’ve been appearing and disappearing,” she said. “Can you tell which are the most recent tracks?”

  “Not from up here, Major.”

  “Here is another way down,” Ember said quietly as she kneeled by a tumble of boulders. Her voice wavered between cool and hurt as if trying on different reactions.

  Sydney tried to give her a kind, hopeful smile. She couldn’t share her epiphany yet, but she would. Soon. “Lead the way.”

  * * *

  Ember stood in the cavern and thought of home, wishing for a moment that she’d never left. Everything outside the mountain was too complicated, and Rowena had been right. There wasn’t enough to eat, and people were consistently strange.

  And feelings got hurt.

  Sydney hadn’t turned on her physically, but Ember almost wished she had. That would have been easier to deal with. And Sydney’s explanation of why she hadn’t let Ember explain about herself or the dragon just made things worse. They were excuses, not reasons, not real ones that made any sense. If Sydney had said she’d been afraid and embarrassed, Ember could have forgiven her, but to say that not speaking was better? It was like pretending, like lying. Ember was what she was, and there was a dragon involved in this fight. Anything else wasn’t the truth.

  Rowena had been right about trusting people; it never led anywhere good.

  Ember sighed as she looked around the cavern at the tracks. Many people had moved through here recently, too many for her to tell who was whom. Diasi and Juzail might have better luck. She liked them, but she told herself not to like them too much. She would continue to help the knights, to help Sydney, because she’d said she would, and her curiosity was dampened but not forgotten. She wanted to see how this would all turn out. She wanted to see the dragon.