23

AMY
There’ssomething about Fort Shreveport that seems…off.
We approach and I can’t help but feel uneasy. There’s no one on the streets leading to the fort, and I have to remind myself that they’ve been under siege by a dragon. Just because Fort Dallas would swarm with people minutes after the all-clear was given, it doesn’t mean that Fort Shreveport is the same. But still, there should be scavengers out, or hunters looking to bring kills back to the city. Someone. Something.
Instead, it’s just awfully quiet.
I have Rast put me down and we link hands as we head toward the iron gates. I can tell the clothes are chafing him in all kinds of ways, but he refuses to tug at the material, determined not to give us away. I also know he’s pacing himself so his steps match my much slower ones, and I appreciate that. It makes it look as if we’re heading into their city full of confidence, so unworried that we’re taking a leisurely stroll up to their door.
The gate itself isn’t all that big—it’s about six feet tall and wrought iron, with “The Thompsons” worked through the metal. Obviously this belonged in front of someone’s driveway and it’s been stolen. Instead of the car barricade that Fort Dallas had, this one seems more prison-like. Circling the front of the building is an eight-foot-tall chain link fence set into the ground with poles and decorated with barbed wire on top. The school itself looks like it’s been covered with all kinds of metal shingles, from every place imaginable. It’s a patchwork covering, reinforced here and there with the occasional half-melted stack of tires in strategic corners of the building.
From between the links of the fence, I can see inside, and as I watch, people emerge from the shelter of the building and head out, dragging wagons and carts. There are metal awnings covering nearly the entire fenced courtyard, and underneath them, it looks like rows of plants. Fascinating. As I watch, a lanky boy runs along one row of vegetables and yanks a chain, securing it. As he does, the awnings move up so the plants can catch sunlight.
Fire barriers for their crops. Wow. That’s so smart. I watch as the carts are pushed into neat rows and see that they’re potted plants filled with what look like tomatoes.
“I’m already impressed with this place,” I murmur to Rast.
He only grunts. It does not smell as bad as some of the human hives. I do not think there are many here.
I eye the vegetable patches. I think he’s right. When you have thousands to feed, like Fort Dallas does, there’s never enough farming to feed all the mouths there, and what little land is quarreled over because someone wants to drop their shanty there. If I had to live in another fort, I’d pick this one, just because it looks cleaner and more open.
Plus, I don’t see militia patrolling. That’s a big positive in my book.
I can't help but notice that everyone here looks a little uneasy, though. As we approach, my nervousness escalates. Can they tell Rast is a dragon, then? Is it that obvious? I thought his disguise was pretty good. I clutch his hand tighter and the two guards at the gate step forward. They're wearing fire helmets and coats, which would be amusing if it wasn't such a good idea.
I also notice that the two at the gate are women, which is also a first for me. I'm used to the militia, which is nothing but a bunch of guys throwing their weight around. These women don't look like they should be messed with, though. Each one carries a shotgun and it looks like they're far too comfortable with handling them.
One lifts her chin and hitches her gun under her arm, her finger near the trigger. “State your business.”
“We're travelers, stopping through,” I say, trying to sound as friendly as possible. “Saw the signs on the road that said this place was friendly and welcoming.”
“To a point,” the woman says. She doesn't move out of my way, though. “It's a bad time to come visiting.”
“Because of the dragon?” I reach into the pocket of my skirt and pull out the note that I've kept. “I got this from a dove that I saw. Joanna sent it. Can I talk to her? I want to help.”
The two women exchange a look. “Joanna?” says the other.
“That's right.”
The women shoulder their guns and one moves toward the gate. “I'll bring you to see Gwen. You got weapons on you? We'll need to pat you down.”
“No weapons,” I say, but my voice is tight, worried. If they pat Rast down, is his disguise going to be ruined?
Can I bite their hands? My dragon growls in my head.
No, please. We want to get inside the place, remember?
He growls again. Then they can put their smelly hands on me, but not for long.
It won't be for long, I promise.I give the women a bright smile. “You're welcome to pat us down.”
One moves forward and runs her hands quickly over my legs and waist. “Name's Andrea. That's Cass. You?”
“I'm Amy. My boyfriend is, uh, Sam.” When he growls in my head again, I shush him. You need a human name.
Did it have to be that one?
“Nice to meet you both. Where you come from?” Andrea moves toward Rast and gives him the same cursory pat-down, and I'm relieved to see she doesn't go near his arms, where his spikes would be painfully obvious if she rubbed him the wrong way.
“Fort Dallas,” I say, and when they make noises of surprise, I continue. “I know. Far, isn't it? We were heading along to Fort Orleans, see if it's a more welcoming sort of place. Had no idea you guys were here until we got the message from Joanna.”
The women cast another look between each other and then Cass gives me a polite smile. “Fort Orleans is big. Unruly. Lots of hungry folks there. We like it here better.”
“It looks nice here,” I admit. Structured. Quiet. Clean. All of those things are so rare in the After.
I do not like how uncomfortable they are,Rast tells me. They are hiding something.
I'm getting that feeling, too.
“And the dragon? The note said you guys were under siege.”
“Dragons are dragons,” Andrea says, waving a hand. “No sense in fussing over it.”
“No sense in fussing…” I echo, surprised at her response. This is the same place that sent a note pleading for help from the attacking dragon? “We’ve some experience with dragons,” I tell her. “If you have one that’s hovering over your city, maybe we can help.”
“Not necessary. He’s gone now, isn’t he?” She smiles brightly at me—a little too brightly. “Come. I will show you to the guest quarters. You can wait there until Gwen meets you for dinner.”
“And Joanna?” I ask.
“And Joanna,” she agrees.
RAST
There is the familiar smell of human dung and dirt in this hive, just like every place that humans find to dwell. Whenever there are more than a handful of them, the stench follows. To me, that is not surprising.
What is surprising is that I pick up a very different scent as we enter the “fort,” and scan the faces around us looking for the answer. Despite the dark “glasses” I wear over my eyes, I can still make out faces and bodies. There are maybe twenty or thirty people here, mostly female and with small young. I see females with young clutched to their breasts, some holding the hands of older ones who watch us with curious eyes. They do not look hungry, which makes my heart glad.
I do not think I could bear to see the young hungry. It reminds me too much of my own youth. I still remember my mother's pinched face, the way she held my sister and shook with frustration and anger when she realized that Tamarit would not be waking up again. It is while I study the children that I see him.
Another male. He is covered from head to toe, much like me, and as I glance in his direction, he slips behind the others, disappearing into the small crowd, but not before I catch a glimpse of golden skin, heavy clothing, and a hat that would hide his horns. Curious. A mated male, then? I send out a mental greeting, but there is nothing in return.
If he is drakoni, his mind has been gutted. There is no psychic link, no brush of his mind, no presence at all. Strange.
I want to push forward after him, to chase him down, but Amy is clutching my hand so tightly I do not dare leave her side. She listens as one of the females continues to chatter at her, talking about growing food and how safe they are, and how happy everyone is. These are not the faces of happy people. They gaze at us as if we have brought trouble to them instead of trying to solve it.
My mate murmurs something back as I scan the group once more. No sign of the dragon-man…if he existed. I am now doubting my own abilities, and I breathe deep, trying to catch his scent. All I get is more human stink, and nearly choke on the miasma of it. I send another feeler out mentally, but there is no response.
Perhaps it is another fragment of my broken mind. Did you see him? I ask Amy. The man with the golden skin? Standing at the back of the crowd?
She glances around and then looks over at me. No. Do you want me to ask about him?
No. Let us not call attention to my appearance.I squeeze her hand. A drakoni uses two senses more than anything—his mental link with others of his kind, and his sense of smell. Neither of these tells me that another was here. I must be seeing things. For a moment, I am dejected. I thought I was doing better than that. I thought my mind had healed more.
You are doing fantastic,Amy sends to me with a little return squeeze of her hand. Maybe we'll find out more.
Maybe.If not, so be it. A Salorian would have made his presence known the moment I tried to touch his mind, so it is not one of them. If it is another who has found a way to stay safe and sane in this strange world, I will not be the one to give away his presence. It does not matter, I tell my Amy. Let us find this Joanna and be on our way.
“Where can we find Joanna?” my mate asks. “Her message made it seem like things were very urgent. I should talk to her.”
The woman glances over at my mate and shakes her head. Joanna is out but will be back for dinner. We are invited, she says, to have dinner with the mayor of the town, Gwen.
“I see,” Amy replies. I can tell she is uneasy.
Have no fear,my mate. We will not do anything foolish. If they betray your trust, I will snap their necks.
No neck snapping yet,she sends to me with a hint of amusement. I guess I should be scared that it's clear they're lying to us, but I'm mostly irritated at the subterfuge. Having you at my side makes everything okay, though.
I bite back a draconic rumble in my chest at her pleasant words. Ask them to have dinner now. Best to get this over with.
My Amy smiles at the woman. “What time will dinner be served?”
“At sunset,” the female replies. “Come, I'll show you to where you can stay. We have an area set aside for guests of the city. If you want to stay, you'll be assigned a permanent room, but until then, you'll have to make do.”
“Of course,” Amy says in a sweet voice. “We really appreciate how welcoming you guys are. I know it's hard to trust newcomers, but we're so pleased to find another settlement that offers safety and comfort. And we've got some goods we can trade if anyone's interested.”
The woman's eyes gleam with excitement, and then she drops her gaze. “We'll talk about that after Gwen gives the okay.”
“All right.”
Huh, Amy sends to me not a moment later. Most people coming in from the Scavenge Lands would be asked what they have. I know it was always exciting when travelers came through at Fort Dallas. She hasn't even asked if we're nomads. And it's clear she wants to trade, but she…won't? Not unless Gwen gives the okay? Something's strange.
We will be ready if they should try anything,I tell her. Do not worry.
I'm not. I know you'll keep me safe.Her trust flows through her thoughts and fills me with pride.
The female leads us through the long hallway and as we pass by doors—classrooms,Amy fills in for me—we see that they are set up as homes. Families have made nests and decorated each one, and more people peek out to stare at us as we move past. The woman gestures at a door at the end of the hall and indicates this is where we will be staying. She tells Amy that if there were others visiting, we would share a chamber with them, but we are the only visitors they have had in a while.
“That's fine,” my Amy says, her tone as gentle as her lovely face. “We'll rest for a bit and then come out for dinner?”
The woman smiles and shuts the door behind Amy. We are alone once more. The room is oddly quiet for a long moment, and then my ears adjust to the low hum of people in the distance once more. Amy glances around, stepping forward. “Well, it’s better than what I had at Fort Dallas, that’s for sure.”
I look around at the room. There is no window out, and the wall is covered by a long, black slab with writing on it. There are three beds for nests, with shelves at the foot of each. The scent of straw is thick, and when Amy moves toward one bed and sits down on the edge, I hear the crunch of straw, as well. “At least the blankets are nice,” Amy tells me, running a hand over the quilted surface of one. “Seems like an awful lot of effort for a trap.”
Her thoughts just confirm my own. And yet you feel like it is a trap? Let us speak silently, my mate.
She nods. They didn’t ask the right questions. Didn’t seem to be interested in anything except sending us away until we mentioned Joanna. Then they were quick to welcome us, but I’m still not getting a welcome feeling.
They were not interested in talking about the dragon.
No.She is thoughtful. It was almost like an afterthought to them. Or something they specifically did not want to talk about. So strange.
I sit down next to her on the bed and touch the hat on my head. Can I take this off yet? The band cuts into my forehead.
Perhaps not yet, she tells me with a little grimace. We don’t know if they’re watching us. We have to be careful a little while longer…and we should probably eat before we go to dinner.
Realization dawns. You think they poison their enemies?
I don’t know, but I also don’t want to find out the hard way.She takes my hand in hers. This feels like a mystery, doesn’t it?
I do not like how excited her thoughts are. She did not lie—she is truly not afraid. Instead, she is eager to learn more about these odd people. As long as you are not harmed, I see no issue in playing along, I tell her sternly. But the moment you are in danger…
I know.She gives me a little smile and makes a claw with her one hand, mock pretending to scratch. Out comes the dragon.