24

AMY
I’mnervous while we wait for dinner.
Rast remains in his clothing, though I know he hates every moment of it. I can feel the irritation rippling over him, as if he’s covered in nettles instead of cotton and nylon. He lies back on the bed with me tucked against his side, holding me close against him and playing with my hair.
We’re both quiet, lost in thought. I keep playing the too-short conversation with Andrea in my head, over and over again. I know these people are different, that they’ve never lived in a place like Fort Dallas, but I try to think how I would have greeted two strangers that showed up on my doorstep, asking about someone.
I wouldn’t trust them.
Strangers are always dangerous. People don’t travel for the hell of it any longer. They travel for a reason. If you’ve left your fort behind, it’s because you were kicked out or something else dire happened, like sickness or starvation or dragons razing the entire thing to the ground. They didn’t even ask why we left Fort Dallas, just smiled and invited us in after a cursory pat-down. It would have been one thing if they thought we were traveling scavengers, looking to sell our wares, but they didn’t even seem all that interested in trading.
It’s like they don’t want to do anything until we have dinner with Gwen…and Joanna, who almost seems like an afterthought to these people.
The dragon thing is odd, too. If my people were under siege by a dragon, I’d be more afraid. Someone professing they can fix the problem would be immediately encouraged to do so, because even a “small” dragon attack can cost valuable crops or lives. They were less afraid of the dragon than…than what?
It doesn’t add up.
Which is why we’re going in to dinner prepared. I’ve got a small knife that was in my pack and I’m going to wear it strapped to the inside of my thigh. Rast is more than ready to take on anyone that tries to hurt us. We’re going in under the assumption that this is a trap. One way or another, though, we’ll get answers. We’ll talk to Joanna and see what’s really going on.
Vaan is returning. He says he smells his mate. There’s a note of warning in Rast’s thoughts. He is getting harder and harder to convince.
Tell him it’s too soon. I squeeze Rast’s arm, the one looped around my shoulders, holding me against him. Tell him to be patient one more day or we won’t be able to get her to come out and talk to him. Tell him…I don’t know what you can tell him.
I am reassuring him that we are hunting down his mate for him and will flush her out of the hive. There is a long pause. He says he will wait one more day. His thoughts become strained. I must constantly reassure him that we are helping him. He does not hold anything in his mind. It is like trying to capture wind.
His mate better be here,I say, or else this might get unfortunate for everyone else around here.
Agreed.
Which is a shame, because they seem like nice enough people. It’s clean here, and there are lots of children, which already makes it different than Fort Dallas. Down one hall, I can hear children laughing and there’s the hum of people chatting a few rooms away, their voices too low to make out. No one seems worried.
No one seems the least bit curious about the visitors, either, which is another red flag.
My stomach growls, a reminder that we need to eat before dinner. I hope we’re not going to miss out on some lavish, decadent feast because we’re afraid to eat. What do you suppose they’re going to serve?
Rast rumbles with amusement. Joanna?
That’s not funny,I tell him.

I eata small meal of potato chips and a stale cookie, and then we wait for someone to show up.
It’s not surprising to me that Andrea’s the one that comes to the door. She knocks and then sticks her head in, all cheeriness. “Ready to eat? We’ve got a special stew in your honor.”
I’ll bet,I think to Rast. But I give her a smile. “More than ready. Thank you so much for having us.”
“Our pleasure,” she says sunnily. “Follow me and I’ll take you to Gwen’s quarters.” She cocks her head at Rast, a little furrow of surprise between her brows as she notices his cap and sunglasses while indoors. “Headache?”
“He’s sensitive to light,” I tell her with a little grimace. “His eyes were damaged during the Rift.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” The look on her face is actually sympathetic, and that’s just even more confusing.
We move in step behind her and I notice that unlike before, the halls are completely silent. No one’s lurking in their rooms or chatting nearby with a friend. No one’s come to gawk at the newcomers. “Do you guys have a community kitchen?” I ask, curious. The answer might be as simple as that.
Andrea looks surprised at my question, and she gives me another over-bright smile. “Sort of! Gwen can explain it to you. Come on. We don’t want to keep her waiting.”
“Definitely not,” I agree. Okay, I haven’t felt nervous before, but with all of the empty, silent rooms nearby, I can’t help but feel a bit on edge. Rast must sense this from my thoughts, because he reaches out and takes my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
I love him so much.
I am here. No one will harm you.
Just that gentle reassurance is enough for me. I stand a little straighter, and I decide to have some fun with this. We can play along, too.
At the very end of the hall, Andrea pauses in front of a pair of double doors. “Gwen’s waiting for you inside. Enjoy yourselves and welcome to Fort Shreveport.”
I give her my most gracious smile. “Thank you so much, Andrea. You’ve been so wonderful and welcoming.” When her smile slips a little, I decide to push it a little further. “You know, Sam and I aren’t big eaters. I’m sure there’s enough food for one more. Why don’t you come to dinner, too? It’ll make us feel at home.”
Her eyes go wide with surprise. “Oh, I couldn’t—”
Yeah, I’ll just bet she can’t. “Please do.” I put a hand on her arm and give her my most convincing look.
She bites her lip. “I can’t. My…my little brother’s waiting on me. I’d love to another time, though.”
“Another time,” I agree with fake sweetness. I watch as she gives me a relieved look and then opens the door for us.
They are terrible at being devious,my dragon points out.
They really are.
We step inside, and the moment we do, Andrea shuts the door behind us and there’s a click, as if it’s being locked. I’d be nervous about that, except my Rast is here with me.
He won’t let anything happen.
The room we’re in is as elegant as one can be in the After. Long swaths of silky fabric cover the bland walls and there’s a large wooden table set in the center of the room, complete with candlesticks. Several places have been set at the table, and there’s a faint scent of stew—staple of the apocalypse—cooking somewhere. I glance around, looking for the fire, and sure enough, someone’s been clever enough to set up a wood stove in the corner, a hacked-out hole in the ceiling letting the pipe carry away the smoke. Atop the stove, a pot simmers. In the center of the room, a woman with dark hair and wide cheekbones pours a few glasses of fresh water and gestures at the candlelit table. “Have a seat, won’t you? I’m Gwen.”
Are we supposed to be pleased at the effort she makes?Rast asks, openly skeptical.
I guess so. I move forward and sit down in one of the chairs, biting back my sigh of relief at the ache in my leg. Even that small jaunt down the hall is making it throb fiercely. Sit next to me? I ask Rast.
No.
Before I can question, he comes behind my chair and puts both hands on my shoulders, a silent claim and protection both. I freaking love it.
The woman called Gwen looks surprised at Rast’s stance but then moves his water glass next to mine. “Relax. No one means you any harm.” Even the way she says it is tight, as if she doesn’t quite believe it herself.
“You’re the mayor here?” I ask.
“I am.” The look on her face isn’t a proud one, but a resigned one. It’s the look of someone who’s taken on an unpleasant task simply because there’s no one else to do it. For a moment, her face looks strained and I actually feel sorry for her.
And then I remember she’s probably going to poison us.
“My name is Amy,” I tell her, and gesture at the dragon-man hovering over me. “This is Sam. We were traveling toward Fort Orleans when I got Joanna’s message about the fort being under siege. If you don’t mind me asking, where is Joanna? I’d like to meet her and talk.”
Gwen purses her lips and pours herself a glass of water, then sits down directly across from me. “She couldn’t make it tonight. Busy.”
“She’s surely here in the fort though?” I ask. “What with the dragon siege and all?”
“Of course. But she’s sleeping. I’d hate to bother her.”
I nod slowly as if I understand. Oh, I understand all right. I understand that Gwen’s lying through her teeth. I’m tired of playing these silly games. I know we’re locked in. I know there’s something up with the stew. I know that something strange is going on. There’s no sense in pretending like I’m clueless.
Shall I shift to battle-form and defend you?Rast’s hand tightens on my shoulder.
No,I tell him, and it’s strange, but I feel…strong. Empowered. I might be weak physically, but we have this Gwen chick just where we need her. We’re on to her games. She has no idea who she’s messing with.
So it’s time to mess back.
I give her my sweetest smile. “If Joanna’s sleeping, someone should wake her up. Her message sounded truly urgent, and that dragon might come back sooner than we hope.”
For a moment, Gwen’s careful expression slips and her expressive eyes look so very sorrowful in her face. She’s pretty, I realize…or she would be if she didn’t seem so world-weary and tired of everything. Like life has beat all the spark out of her. But then she firms her mouth and shakes her head, picking up her glass of water and taking a sip. “She’ll join us later.”
“I see.” I tilt my head. “Before or after the poisoned stew?”
Gwen chokes on her water, coughing and spewing. “W-what?”
“Isn’t that what you’re up to?” I ask. “Or is it something else? Some other sort of trap? It can’t be the water.” I gesture at the glass in her hand. “Or are you going to go old school and just hold us up at gunpoint? I’m curious.”
She blinks her big eyes at me. “Why would you think you’re going to come to harm?”
“Oh, come on,” I say with a little laugh. “I come from a fort. I know how these things work. You guys are way too welcoming. A private dinner just because strangers showed up? Please. If you want to put me at ease, you’ll treat me a lot worse. That’s how forts treat visitors. You and I both know that no one just wanders in from the streets for a lark. But you guys didn’t ask a single question, just welcomed us in and invited us to dinner with the mayor. Like that doesn’t scream ‘trap’? And why is no one worried about the damn dragon?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Does Joanna even exist? I’m curious.”
Gwen just stares at me for a long, long time. I have an uneasy moment where I think maybe I’ve judged her wrong, but then her face crumples and her mouth quivers and she puts her head down in her arms, shoulders shaking with tears.
Well…that’s not exactly the action of a bloodthirsty murderer. More like a woman trapped with no choices. My heart squeezes with sympathy and I reach across the table to pat her hand. “You want to tell us what’s really going on here? I meant it when I said we could help.”
She takes a deep breath and lifts her head, dashing tears from her eyes. Her hands are shaking and for a moment, she looks far more delicate and fragile than I’ve ever felt.
“We wouldn't poison you,” she says dully. “We need you alive.”
“Alive? What for?”
Her expression grows sadder and sadder. “Because that's the agreement we have with the Brothers of Ash.”
I've never heard of these “Brothers of Ash,” but I can guess who they are. “Nomads?” At her ashamed nod, I feel all sympathy for her leaching out of my body. “You made a deal with nomads to sell people to them?”
“I don't have a choice.” She puts her hands to her temples. “You saw the people we have here. Fort Shreveport has no militia. We have very few men. We weren't even a fort until about a year or so ago, just a group of women and children who left Fort Tulsa when the new mayor took over and decided that anyone with a vagina was part of his personal harem.” She shudders. “You don't understand the choices we've had to make.”
This isn't the first time I've heard bad things about Fort Tulsa. Emma speaks of it with hatred.
Does it matter?Rast asks. I can sense that you are torn between feeling sorry for her and being angry. Do not forget that she tried to poison you to give you to nomads. His hands are tight on my shoulders. You are too clever for her plans, but that does not mean she should be forgiven.
I know.I reach up and touch one of his hands, stroking his knuckles. I can sense the rage simmering behind his thoughts. He really, really doesn't like that Gwen wished ill upon us, and it makes me feel even safer. I have the biggest, baddest protector around. I'm not afraid of her or anything she tries. It's going to be all right, I promise him. I want to know what's going on. Let me talk to her before we burn this place to the ground.
I do not know if you are teasing,he mutters at me. I would happily raze this place. I can call Vaan back at any time and between the two of us—
No, babe. I promise we'll get to the bottom of this before we decide what our plan of action is. We can be benevolent badasses as long as it suits us.
He grunts aloud, and Gwen's gaze flicks to him.
I reach forward and pat her hand with my free one to focus her. “You think I don't understand bad choices? I grew up in a fort. I know how terrible they are.”
She looks utterly miserable. “We've nothing but women and children here. Some elderly. A few men that pass through. Some stay because they get attached to a girl, but for the most part, we're vulnerable. I never realized just how vulnerable until a few months ago. The Brothers of Ash rode through and we welcomed them, just like we welcome everyone who needs a place to stay and a bite to eat.” She swallows hard. “That was a…bad call. They robbed us and hurt some of the women. They stayed for a few days and then left, but not before telling us that they'd be back in a few weeks and we were now ‘under their protection.’ They insisted we have to pay them a tithe.”
It sounds like typical nomad stuff. They're bullies and awful people. And Gwen is right—this place does seem to be mostly women and children. I can only imagine how she felt knowing that she'd unwittingly let in the enemy. “So you decided to offer them strangers.”
“No,” she says hoarsely. “We decided to up our security and try to fight them off. We're not without pride. We hid all of our food, armed our people, reinforced our fences…and it didn't do any good. When they came back, they demanded their tithe. We couldn't pay, of course. We had no intention of paying them. We just wanted to be left alone.” Her eyes water and she swipes at them again, glancing away. “So they set a trap and stole my sister when she went out hunting. Told us if we ever wanted to see her again, we needed to double the tithe. Humans are best, since they’re in the market to peddle flesh. That was weeks ago. They told us that if we didn't get the tithe to them, they were going to sell her on the black market to the highest bidder.” The look in her eyes is pleading. “I know it's no excuse, but she's my sister. Family is everything.”
Her words are like a little stab in my heart. Family is everything. Isn't it? But I've abandoned my sister to be with Rast. I know she's worried sick, frantic over her missing, fragile little sister, and I haven't sent her a word. I feel so guilty. Rast's hands clench tight on my shoulders, and I know he has to be picking up my thoughts.
“I didn't want to go along with what the Brothers of Ash are suggesting, but my sister…” She swallows hard. “I can't abandon her to them. So we sent out messenger birds with notes. You're right that there is no Joanna. It's the code word we decided to use. We figured that anyone that shows up asking for Joanna could be drugged, robbed, and then sent on their way. It's not honorable, but it's our only option.” She rubs her brow again. “I'm not proud. I know it's wrong. I just don't know what else to do.”
“Ask for help?” I suggest.
“From who?” She laughs bitterly. “Fort Orleans? Fort Tulsa? You said you came from a fort. You know just as well as I do that asking them for help is no help at all. Whatever they want, the price will be too high.”
I can just imagine what they'd want from an encampment full of women. I hate that her words make so much sense. I want to be angry, but I understand how she's thinking. Wouldn't Claudia do the same thing if I was in trouble? She practically took down all of Fort Dallas just trying to rescue me when the militia held me captive. I'm not even angry. When I see Gwen, I don't see a conniving woman trying to attack strangers.
I see a desperate woman who wants her sister back and has run out of options. She's powerless.
Lucky for her, I'm not. I have Rast on my side. Babe?
If you wish to help them, we will. I understand what it is to want to help family.
I send him a wave of love and affection. My wonderful, wonderful dragon. He thinks he’s so terrible but he understands me like no one else. “We can help,” I tell Gwen softly.
The look on her face is clearly disbelieving. She straightens, a bitter little smile on her face. “You know what's really sad? When I sent out the messenger pigeons with the notes about the dragon siege, there wasn't one. It's like fate's throwing things in my face because for the last week, we've had a dragon that wouldn't leave.” She shakes her head. “Some terrible luck. You're better off just leaving this place behind. I won't stop you. Hell, I'll probably send my people with you.” Her eyes water again, and she looks miserable. “I can't protect them if they stay here.”
“I mean it,” I tell Gwen again. “We can help. We can help with the nomads and the dragon both. But you've got to promise never to harm another person. What you were trying to do tonight isn't right.”
She shakes her head at me. “I appreciate the offer, I really do. But unless you're rich, I don't know that the nomads are going to be interested in whatever you have to offer as a trade for my sister Daniela. She's really pretty.” Her voice catches and she clears her throat. “And she's a virgin. They're going to keep her and sell her no matter what, I think. You would need a hell of a lot of trade goods.”
“Oh, we're not going to trade them,” I reassure her.
Gwen tilts her head. “You're not? Then how…”
“Rast?” I ask, patting my mate on the hand. I glance up at him. “Care to do the honors?”
He bares his teeth, displaying sharp fangs.
Gwen gasps and jerks backward in her chair, nearly falling over. “What the fuck—”
“We can help you with the dragon because we have one,” I tell her smugly. “And we've got far more muscle than any number of nomads would. Sit back and listen up, because I have a very interesting story to tell you.”