“Find anything?” Diasi had a smudge of dirt on her pale, narrow nose, and her straw-colored hair was dusted with gray from the cavern walls.

  “Nothing certain.”

  Diasi nodded and continued searching. Ember stayed by her side.

  “Where did you learn to fight so well?” Diasi asked. “The army?”

  “No, I…” Ember hesitated. Both Rowena and Sydney had said she needed to be careful when mentioning her origins, and now she feared telling the truth, but she didn’t want to lie. “I’ve just had a lot of practice.”

  Diasi glanced over from the corner of her eye. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry.”

  But prying was good; all questions were good. If Diasi asked some, Ember could ask some; more things to learn. Excitement began to build again. If she could get the knights to talk to her, they could become friends, and then they wouldn’t care that she was made instead of born, and she—

  Ember stopped as she spied a track leading from this large cavern into the largest tunnel. Huge, with a deeper impression at the front than the back, and three birdlike toes. The dragon had been here.

  Sydney might not want to admit it, but here was proof. She’d acted as if she didn’t want the knights to know, but she’d also said she wanted them to find out for themselves.

  Ember swallowed. So, she wasn’t supposed to tell, but Diasi wasn’t looking in the right place. “What’s that?” Ember said as she pointed to the track. She grinned at finding a medium between not telling and not letting the knights walk ignorantly into a dragon’s lair.

  “I have no idea.” Diasi held her torch high and approached the enormous track. “I thought one might be a drag mark, but with three in front and one pointing the other way, it looks like a big…chicken foot, doesn’t it?”

  Ember laughed as she imagined it, and Diasi joined her. “We’d never have to hunt again if we catch it,” Ember said.

  “Not with those eggs.”

  Juzail moved to join them and marveled at the print, and they were three friends sharing a laugh about something that might possibly kill them. Ember supposed that was better than crying. She kept waiting for one of them to say “dragon,” but they just went back and forth about what it could be and making jokes about giant chickens until finally, Juzail frowned.

  “Isn’t quite bird,” he said. “Looks a little like…lizard, like the ones that ran all over the buildings in Thornstone where I grew up, but they’re only this big.” He held up his hand, thumb and forefinger a few inches apart.

  Ember continued to wait, willing them to put the pieces together.

  They looked at her at the same time, and she almost cheered at the realization in their faces.

  “You said something about a dragon,” Juzail said slowly.

  “But that’s nonsense,” Diasi said with a laugh that wasn’t real. “I mean, we all laughed.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t have.” He stared at the print, then at Ember. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that even with this print, I hope you’re wrong.”

  “I don’t mind,” she said. “Hopes are fine, but the truth is more important.” When she looked pointedly at the print again, they both nodded, and Ember felt a sense of victory even as she hoped she was wrong, too.

  The hope was a small one. She really wanted to see a dragon.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Camille was afraid she’d have to stab her thigh to keep from laughing. Rowena the Hawk was playing Hilga the milkmaid, whose best qualities seemed to be speaking haltingly and fainting a lot.

  And glaring.

  “Stop that,” Camille said quietly. They were sitting together in the center of the cavern while the knights searched the nearby tunnels, looking for the kidnappers’ tracks. “Hilga’s got no reason to be angry at me.”

  “It was all I could think of.”

  “You did well.”

  “Then why are you laughing?” Rowena asked between clenched teeth.

  “I’m trying not to, but it’s hilarious.”

  Rowena poked her in the side. “What should I do if they ask me why a milkmaid has two packs which are stocked for traveling and a bag of reagents and spell components?”

  “Tears always work. Or you can faint again.” Camille bit her lip to keep from sniggering.

  Rowena turned a slow, murderous look on her again.

  “Here,” Camille said, reaching for the packs. If Rowena lost her temper and the knights found out she was not a milkmaid, there might be more than recriminations, especially if the knights thought Rowena had anything to do with Kells, lizard creatures, or abductions. She slid one of the packs closer and hid the other behind it. Rowena kept the bag slung around herself. “Now, I put one on when we leave as if I’d had it this entire time, and we hope for the best.”

  “Fantastic.” She rested her chin in her hand. “Bloody knights are taking their time about things.”

  “It’s too bad you can’t…” She drew a circle in the air, hoping Rowena got the gist. She didn’t want to say anything about spellcasting.

  “Too bad I can’t do a lot of things,” Rowena muttered.

  Camille’s eyes took on a sympathetic cast. “How’s your arm?”

  “Well enough. The bleeding’s stopped completely.”

  “Let me know if—” She stopped speaking as one of the knights finally came over.

  Bennia, the sergeant who’d first helped Camille on the rocks. She had short, dark, spiky hair, a crooked smile, and the kind of cocksure manner Camille would have gone for if she wasn’t embroiled in a dragon conspiracy.

  And if she didn’t already have a fascinating woman sitting beside her.

  “We can’t be sure of the way, so we’re picking one and going for it,” Bennia said. “Better than sitting here doing nothing. And I’m afraid we don’t have enough people to escort you to the safety of your village.” She put a reassuring hand on Rowena’s shoulder.

  Camille cleared her throat and grabbed Bennia’s hand before Rowena could bite her. “Thanks so much for all your help, Sergeant. We don’t want to inconvenience you any further. Hilga and I can make our way to the village. Together, we’re certain to avoid danger.”

  Bennia kneeled. “No, no, Camille. I couldn’t send a librarian and a milkmaid outside in this wilderness without an escort. I’d never forgive myself.”

  Rowena growled, and Camille nudged her, making her jump.

  Bennia nodded to her. “See? Poor Hilga trembles at the very idea. You must come with us but stay at the rear of the company.”

  “No.” Camille laughed shakily. “I’m sorry. That…fills me with fear, too. It fills, um, both of us, right, Hilga?”

  “Yep,” Rowena said between clenched teeth. “Fear.”

  “What we should do is climb out of these caverns and find a hiding spot on the moors. We won’t move again until you come and find us.” She crossed her fingers and held them over her heart like a child making a promise.

  Bennia looked back and forth between them. “And what will you do if those creatures discover you?” She rested her hands on their knees. “I’m not trying to frighten you, only to make you consider the possibilities.”

  “They won’t find us,” Rowena said quietly, and her voice had a dangerous edge.

  Camille put an arm around her and turned Rowena’s head into her shoulder. “That’s right, Hilga. We’ll be so petrified with fear, we won’t make a peep, and no one will know we’re there.”

  Bennia sighed and looked toward her waiting troops. From how they’d acted, none wanted any civilians to be hurt, but they didn’t want civilians among them, either. It was just one more distraction they didn’t need in a fight. “All right.” She insisted on seeing them up to the surface and approving their hiding place at the base of a rocky tor. Then she kissed each of their hands and bid them farewell with many promises to return as quickly as she could.

  “Fucking assholes,” Rowena cried when the knights were gone. “Bloody, condescending, smarmy, uptight, buggery wankers.” She breathed hard as if she’d been underwater. Camille supposed she had been holding her breath in a way or at least holding in a string of heinous swears.

  “Use your location spell,” Camille said, trying to bring her back to business. “Maybe we can find the captives ourselves.”

  “What for?” Rowena paced up and down, staring. “If we wanted to find them, we should have stayed with the wanking knights.”

  “Not with you ready to kill them,” Camille said, fighting to keep her patience. “And they don’t know where they’re going, and we still have a chance to help.”

  With a few more swears, Rowena kneeled and began to dig in her bag.

  Camille grabbed her by the front of the cloak and pulled her close. “Don’t get me wrong. I was about ready to stab that fawning sergeant myself.”

  Rowena froze and then kissed her, knocking her back slightly. Camille deepened the kiss and held them together. Rowena could be a pain, but when the situation was dire, she acted for the good of the many whether she liked those involved or not. And Camille was proud of her for not killing anyone and for playing a helpless milkmaid. Whatever she did, foolish or not, she did it with passion.

  When she pulled back, Rowena was grinning like a fool. “I know why I kissed you, but what was your kiss for?”

  “Lots of things, Hilga.”

  Rowena narrowed her eyes and leered. “Turned on by the milkmaid, were we?”

  Camille barked a laugh. “Only because it was you.”

  “Hmm. I didn’t know farmhands were your thing.”

  “They’re not.”

  “I suppose I’ll have to invest in a costume.”

  “Would you get to work, please?” Camille chuckled as Rowena got out what she needed for the spell. Camille let her thoughts linger on costumes for a moment before she shook her head. Now was not the time to contemplate that particular future. Or any future. She’d never been one to look too far ahead, especially with lovers. She’d thought of them as temporary, Sydney included, just hot sex until they tired of each other, then they’d go their separate ways. Just because her time with Sydney had been more interesting than usual didn’t mean Camille had ever thought of them as being in any kind of long-term relationship.

  When she’d first been attracted to Rowena, she’d thought the same thing. If the attraction was mutual, they’d have some fun. Then when this adventure was done, they’d part ways.

  But now, watching this fascinating woman who could go from angry to playful in a blink, who was crabby, intelligent, mercurial, charming, vulnerable, and beautiful at the same time, Camille let herself think casually of the future, of a relationship that could last more than a few weeks. She’d been tongue-tied by Sydney’s beauty, but that hadn’t happened with Rowena. As lovely as she was, she’d always been easy to talk to. And that suddenly meant a great deal more than she’d ever thought it would.

  * * *

  Rowena’s location spell showed her the knights they’d just left, or so she assumed. They felt the closest, but she detected others, too. She and Camille would just have to pick one and head that direction. She couldn’t say who they were or what they were doing, but she wanted every piece of this puzzle she could get.

  Even if that meant helping some captive knights, the bastards.

  As they hurried toward the next signal, Rowena tried to tell herself that maybe she’d get lucky, and Ember would be with one of these knightly squads. If that proved so, she hoped Ember hadn’t revealed her heritage. She would be safer with a group of warriors if they thought she was human, but if they knew the truth, they’d no doubt turn into a group of morons who’d kill her for no reason.

  Stupid bloody knights. She should just let them rot.

  But Camille was right to know that she’d bloody well help. Whatever was being done to them couldn’t be good and was probably incredibly painful and evil. She had to stop the evil part, at least.

  The signal led them to a small group of knights embroiled in a fight with more lizard-skinned warriors. Rowena pulled Camille into hiding. “We can’t let them see us.”

  “Aren’t we going to help them?” Camille asked.

  Rowena shook her head, worry replacing anger and not just for what the knights would do. “There are more knights than enemies, and…does it look like they’re not trying very hard?”

  Camille peered at the fight as Rowena did. The cloaked creatures feinted and pulled away as if leading the knights. Or distracting them.

  “Like the last fight,” Camille muttered. “If they’re just a distraction—”

  A group of more lizard-skinned fighters rushed from a hole in the ground. “There,” Rowena said, pointing as the new group subdued two knights and lifted them. “We can follow them while the knights are distracted.” She ran after the captives, Camille at her side. They ducked through an opening into the caverns again, and when the sunlight from behind faded, the hurried footsteps of the kidnappers slowed but didn’t stop, and they seemed to vanish into the gloom.

  “We need a light,” Camille whispered.

  “No, they’ll see.” Rowena took a few vials from her pack and mixed some finely ground cat’s eye stone with oil and a pinch of luminescent fungus. She infused it with life force and smeared it over her eyelids.

  A jolt of pain went through her eyes, but when she opened them again, the sides of the tunnel stood out in sharp relief, and she could see Camille peering fearfully into the dark. “Here, close your eyes,” Rowena said.

  Camille gasped when Rowena anointed her lids and put a hand to her forehead. “What the fu—” She gasped again when she opened her eyes and looked around. “That’s amazing.”

  “Come on.” Rowena hurried after the kidnappers; they hadn’t gotten far. It seemed they could see somewhat in the dark, too.

  “How long does this last?” Camille whispered.

  “Maybe an hour. I hate using body augmentation magic. Those who augment their bodies too often have to keep doing it more and more just to function normally, and our eyes will be sore after it wears off.”

  They walked so far into the dark that Rowena feared the spell would run out, but at last, light shone from ahead. The kidnappers brought their victims into a huge cavern whose ceiling was open to the sky. The middle of the floor sunk into a pit, as if when the ceiling had caved in, it turned the cavern into a sinkhole.

  A ledge ran around the pit, and tunnels branched off the sides of the cavern, including one that glowed with artificial light. The lizard-skinned creatures dumped their captives into the pit, and cries of pain, surprise, and protest sounded from below.

  They’d found the jail.

  Rowena scanned the rest of the room and tried to see down the neighboring tunnels. The lizard-skinned creatures stood close to the pit, talking quietly or peering at the captives below. She tried to count the enemies so they could tell the knights how many there were, but a familiar scent caught her attention.

  Sage, rosemary, and other herbs. She thought the lighted tunnel might lead to a kitchen, but she also caught the rancid smell of brimstone and an unpleasant tang like tanning hides. All put her in mind of her workshop, her reagents.

  Someone was doing magic.

  After a look at Camille, Rowena gestured toward the lighted tunnel. Camille nodded, and they edged around the cavern, staying in the shadows on the opposite side of the pit from the guards. They crept among stalagmites and finally reached the lighted tunnel, which led immediately into a short-ceiling, room-like cavern. Rowena used a mirror to peek inside but saw no one. She glanced at the lizard-skinned creatures to make sure no one was paying attention, then hurried inside.

  Two large tables dominated the room, and the sight of reagents and tools scattered across their surfaces reminded Rowena so much of home that her heart wrenched. Camille stepped around her and peeked into a different room that led off this one. When she gasped, Rowena hurried to her side.

  Corpses. On the floor, in jars, stacked in the corners like firewood.

  So many words went through her mind. Cemetery, mausoleum, morgue, but this was none of those things. It was a workshop.

  And the things in the jars weren’t dead.

  Winged lizard creatures like the kind that had attacked the village floated in viscous liquid and twitched in their sleep like puppies. Other jars held the lizard-skinned creatures who also seemed not quite alive. As her heart sank, she spotted other human and dragon hybrids. Tables at the back held half-dissected mutations that had probably never walked or breathed, with too many limbs or too few or something bizarre like wings where their eyes should be.

  “What is this?” Camille asked breathlessly. She put a hand to her mouth as if she might be sick.

  Rowena shook her head. The corpses on the floor and in the corner were human, but their skin was dry, their bodies shriveled as if all the moisture had been wrung from them, but why?

  It almost didn’t matter. She wanted to burn this whole abominable place to the ground.

  She made herself breathe. Answers first.

  Rowena looked again to the jars and noticed that each held a smaller jar on top. She couldn’t believe her eyes as she stepped closer. The little jars each contained a human heart that pulsed with blue light. “What are they doing?”

  If Camille answered, Rowena didn’t hear. She went back to the corpses and rolled one to see a gash across the chest where the heart had been removed. Hearts: the organ that held the most life force. “They’ve taken the hearts, harvested the life force, and stripped the bodies of moisture.” She pointed to the jars. “And they’re using those to give these…things life.” Camille was staring at her with horror in her eyes. Rowena found herself putting facts together almost woodenly. “Just one human would provide enough to power a host of new creatures for a short while.”

  She recalled giving her own life force to Ember, making a new heart beat. She’d felt such joy when their eyes had met for the first time.