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  She turned the metal knobs on the side of the stall and grabbed a towel, rubbing her dripping hair and grabbing the plush robe that Shance claimed had come with the room. The robe would be coming with her when she left.

 

  She paused. On one hand, Shance had been nothing but open and honest with her. On the other, the less he knew, the less he could reveal under coercion.

  And Kesia didn’t need anyone worrying about her.

 

 

  She laughed.

 

  She sent him a wave of sympathy.

 

 

 

  Kesia rolled her shoulders back, allowing her muscles to relax. Her fleetwing had an impeccable way of clearing her thoughts to focus on what was important. On completing the task. On their security as fleetwings. As embermates, whatever that meant. They could discover it together, in all aspects.

  Her face flushed, but she shrugged off the arousal. Right now, she needed to tell Shance the truth, or at least part of it. Enough that he would keep his distance and allow her to think properly.

  A moment later, clad in pants and shirt, she emerged from the bedroom, walking into the overwhelming scent of food. The entire private dining table was covered in different kinds of dishes, some that she’d tried and liked, others that she’d never seen before.

  Shance sat in one of the chairs, leaning back, his eyes closed. Sleeping?

  “What is this?” Kesia swallowed, trying to remember what she had come to say.

  His eyes snapped open, and the front legs of his chair clopped to the floor. “Oh, I figured you’d be hungry because you eat every few hours, so I just ordered. If that’s all right.”

  “That’s...fine.” She sighed. Shance was only being nice, and he was right; she needed food. Shape-shifting took a lot of energy. The odor of freshly-cooked crenbird with its mixture of herbs and savory spices consumed her senses. “I need to tell you something while we eat.”

  She reached for the crenbird leg and started eating, just to clear her thoughts.

  “I thought so.” Shance ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up on end. It looked cute. “That was a lot to throw at you, and I’m sorry.”

  Kesia nodded. “Yes, it was. I forgive you. But this has to stop, Shance. I know that we’re pretending to be engaged, but I can’t actually consider being in love with you.”

  “Yes. That’s fair.” He paused. “Do you at least care for me?”

  “As much as I can, but not in a…” She searched for the word. “Romantic way.”

  He picked at a fried root vegetable. “But you are attracted to me. I know that.”

  “Does physical attraction necessitate love?”

  “No, I suppose not. Although it can.”

  “Maybe for you.” She finished off the crenbird leg and took another. “I’m focused on more important things right now, like trying to find the truth about the explosion. And Zephryn is my fleetwing. We’re joined at the heart.”

  Shance’s brow wrinkled. “Wait…not literally.”

  “Yes, literally. The heart of a dragon is composed of the heartflame. When dragons are matched with their fleetwing, both are cut open in scale form and their hearts cut in half. The parts are then sewn into each other somehow. I’m not exactly sure of the details. Medicine isn’t my specialty. But from that moment, Zephryn and I were joined forever.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Ten. It can be older, but ten is the youngest the surgery can be attempted.”

  Shance spluttered on his drink. “Ten? You were only children! You meet your destined other half—literally—as children and you just trust that? Enough to undergo major surgery?”

  “Why not?”

  He waved the goblet around, spilling some of the contents onto the carpet. “What if you’re not compatible? What if you like completely different things? What if the other person turns out evil?” Shance’s eyes widened. “What if one of you dies?”

  “Are humans truly that wayward? Our heartflames wouldn’t have called to each other if we had been incompatible. That pull, that bond, is an alignment of mental and physical connection.”

  “So if one of you is evil, the other would be too.”

  “Yes, although that rarely happens, as far as I know.” Kesia paused. “As for death—that would involve both of us as well. Whether by life or death, we are joined.”

  Shance took another drink of wine. “So, you don’t have marriage or love or family, but you have fleetwings. Do you have sex?”

  “Breeding? Only in scale form.”

  “As dragons?”

  Kesia rolled her eyes. “I’m always a dragon. And yes. I’ve heard it’s not enjoyable, beyond the flying aspects.” Should she say more? It didn’t seem important, but the more useless information she offered, the easier it would be to earn Shance’s trust and sneak out later. “It was one reason Zephryn and I left. Lord Garishton Razorclaw threatened to break our fleetwing bond and assign us new breeding partners. The attempt would have killed us.”

  Shance frowned, running his finger along the rim of his glass. “Are you and Zephryn…married?”

  “I told you, dragons don’t have that word—”

  “Why not?” He tilted his chair forward. “Why are you missing all these words for love and romance?”

  Would the man not let her eat? She swallowed quickly. “If I knew that, I’d tell you.”

  “Would you?”

  “Maybe.” She threw the crenbird bones on her plate and stared at them as if they might give a reason for the anger and uncertainty churning in her stomach. “The Pinnacle says they are unnecessary distractions from the realities of war.”

  Shance’s voice was quiet. “You left because they were going to separate you and your fleetwing.”

  “I know.” Kesia glanced up at him. Consideration tinged with sadness softened Shance’s face. She felt as if she should apologize. But she wasn’t sorry Zephryn was her fleetwing. Shance had given away his affections of his own will.

  Far too freely.

  “Yes, well.” He cleared his throat. “We still need to portray a betrothed couple for the remainder of this charade. That includes the gala tomorrow.

  “Of course. That was always part of our agreement.”

  “Exactly.” Shance scratched at his stubble, staring into the distance for a moment. “Tomorrow there will be some women at the gala that I’ve been with. Intimately.”

  She nodded with a snort of smoke. “You’ve mentioned this before. I still don’t want details.”

  Shance played with his fork. Why was he nervous? “There’s something else you need to know. There is a Countess Nula who proposed to me as part of a military deal. I marry her, and her father increases his already generous military support. Everyone wins. I turned her down, but she was being very… persuasive.”

  Kesia frowned. “With words? Or was she trying to arouse you?”

  “Both. Also, about the open discussion, remember—”

  “Human females don’t discuss matters of sex and arousal openly because it offends them. For people who have such a high view of love and intercourse, you’re curiously scared about
acknowledging it.”

  “I’m not arguing with you. Just…don’t do it.”

  “Very well. But you think she will be there tomorrow and try to arouse you again?”

  “I don’t know. At the very least, she has the ears of many influential people in the Scepter of Commerce, including those of the Curious Intrigue.” Kesia tilted her head to the side at the unfamiliar name, and Shance added, “Some ancient secret society. Very powerful, but mostly harmless, I’ve heard. Focused on arcane matters of science and philosophy, trying to test the limits of humans. Supporters of the war, but then again, who isn’t?”

  “I see.” Kesia watched her plans to get Zephryn alone burn to ash. But a stubborn ember remained, fueling her next words. “I will do my best, but I will also speak with Zephryn tomorrow privately.”

  “Why? Haven’t you been speaking with him this entire time? I need you at my side tomorrow as much as possible.”

  The ember flamed higher with her irritation. “I have repaired your ship and accepted all your other pretenses. I will spend time with Zephryn, regardless of what you think you need. If you wanted fewer complications in your life, maybe you should have had less sex with untrustworthy women.”

  “I didn’t have sex with this one!”

  Kesia blew out a stream of smoke. Taking another shower sounded really good right now. Or shifting and flying out of this place. “Why did you have sex with all of the others?”

  He leaped up from the table. “Better than dwelling on this damn pointless war!”

  Her hands shook, eager for a knife. Better to deal with this situation through sparring than with more words. But then she’d probably kill Shance. Her heart sank and she slouched back in her chair, jaw set. “The war is part of life. Hiding away in physical pleasures won’t change that.”

  “You haven’t tried it.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  Shance flung his fork at his plate, his eyes blazing with anger. “It’s bad enough that the blasted Congruency took my family away and forced me to fight for them. Bad enough that every one of my actions is under their orders, never mind that my instincts tell me something is wrong with all of this. At least with women I get something good out of it. Even if it doesn’t mean anything in the end, it’s better than being alone.”

  Kesia frowned, and her heart sank. “Shance…I’m sorry. No, that’s not right. I didn’t do anything wrong. But I don’t want you to feel sad.”

  “Saying ‘I’m sorry’ still works, then.” He sighed. “It’s a human thing.”

  “All right.” She paused, tempted to rub the voicelator for Zephryn’s wisdom in her mind. But this situation would stump even him. “I’m sorry.”

  “And that almost sounded like you believed it. Good work.”

  “I do.” Kesia focused on taking a sip from her cup. Strewsberry juice, tart and dark red. “Ever since I’ve been around you, I care. Well, I see that caring isn’t a weakness.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing.

  She shifted in her chair. “What?”

  “You learn very quickly, Kesia Ironfire. You’ll do just fine tomorrow.” He paused. “And I won’t push our betrothal appearance too far. I wouldn’t want your fleetwing setting me on fire and eating my charred corpse.”

  “He wouldn’t set you on fire. He would rip out your throat and leave you hanging from your own ship mast.”

  Shance’s face paled. “Would he now?”

  “Yes.” Kesia grinned a little, reaching for another roasted meat, a jungle boar. She pulled off a chunk with her fingers and took a bite, savoring the gamey juices. “Zephryn enjoys joking, but he would never eat a human.”

  “Some civilization then in dragon kind?”

  “No, you just aren’t worth the effort. Too many bones, not enough flesh.”

  The airship captain leaned forward, his expression deadly serious. “Kesia, have you—?”

  “Oh, no. It’s not required. And my parents,” her voice caught, but she pushed through it. “My parents said not to eat anything that could talk back to you.”

  “Good for them.”

  Kesia shrugged. “I suppose so.”

  She only half-listened as Shance launched into more conversation, enough to make sure he felt listened to. He seemed to appreciate that.

  In the meantime, she began forming a plan to sneak around the Central Market after Shance was asleep to find the origin of the green smoke. She needed proof. Nothing against Shance, but if this went belly up, he could lose his entire cover, whereas she could slip away far easier. It would be better for him to learn everything afterward so he wouldn’t put his honesty in jeopardy. Plausible deniability and all that.

  She needed more food.

  Chapter 15

  As far as Kesia had seen, the Central Market only had one pest: clayborer beetles that attacked the claymesh and loosened the mosaic tiles. If metal hadn’t been requisitioned for use in the war effort, it was likely more of the buildings would be made of it instead of clay over wire frames.

  She should be grateful the clayborer beetles were there. But as Kesia studied the small bug in her hand, she couldn’t manage one appreciative feeling. From a mighty dragon to a tiny, squirmy bug with a greenish-brown back.

  Augh. Why couldn’t they have had a bird infestation? Or something cute and furry?

  Enough. She closed her eyes and allowed her skin to absorb everything that made the clayborer unique. Every crevice of its carapace and pointy barb on its legs slipped into her. The bug itself disappeared, but she could feel it in the nether, waiting for her to shapechange. One instant, then another, and her body was shrinking and wrapping itself tighter and tighter to fit inside the small shape.

  Wings fluttered at her back. Her tiny legs pushed her off the ground, and she let the buzzing wings move her forward. She flew a few hesitant circles around the room. This was far different from being a bird. The buzzing was louder, the shifting quick and jerky. Everything happened too fast and took too long at the same time.

  Her heart thudded in her ears. A purely mental response, but it felt real. What if she couldn’t control this form? It was too small.

  Hold to your heartflame, Kesia. It isn’t an evil: it is a Talent even more precious than your other Talents, my star. Let it guide them. Those Above gave us our heartflames so we would always remember who we were, no matter our form.

  She remembered the words of her father and mother, holding her tight after an unexpected shapeshift had left her in tears, ready to never use her Talent again. She could almost hear the resonance in their voices calming her, reminding her of where she came from and that they loved her, even if she did something unforgiveable.

  Kesia laughed silently. She was more than the beetle form that encased her or even her skin form that waited in the nether.

  She was a dragon with a heartflame that burned clear and strong.

  With those thoughts, she landed on the floor and crept under the door from the bedroom to the living area. Another quick flight and she scuttled beneath the door to Shance’s suite. As long as she stayed near the top and bottom corners of the corridor, she should be fine. The last thing she wanted was to encounter other beetles. Trying to fake a form around creatures who naturally owned it always meant trouble. It usually involved them attacking her or trying to mate with her.

  Kesia shuddered internally and zoomed through the hall. This late at night, the electric lights were at half-power, which was all the better for her. From the fear that beat her wings, it seemed that clayborers were adverse to light. It made sense, given their interest in burrowing.

  She continued on. She had an hour, maximum, before she had to shift back. Shance might sleep like the dead, but being too long in a foreign creature’s form had negative effects. She could start to lose her true mind, or she could simply pass out due to malnourishment. It was easier to shapeshift when she could eat the large quantities a dragon stomach could hold. In any case, she didn’t
want to chance too much in this new form. Her heartflame and memories might give her confidence, but without Zephryn’s anchor in her mind, slipping into the instinctive urges of a clayborer would be far too easy.

  Focus. Remember the maps she’d studied of the Central Market.

  After a few trips down side hallways, she finally found people to follow. They wore long black coats, and goggles were strapped around their heads, the kind that had many lenses for looking at very small things. Those were only used by mechanics, technicians, and scientists. She would know quickly which one they were.

  Kesia drifted closer, hoping to catch some of their conversation.

  “...I’m telling you, taking the coats and goggles out of the lab is bad business. They’re never meant to leave for a reason. All materials must maintain a high level of sterility.” The man’s voice was high and anxious, and his gloved hand nervously picked at the front pocket of his coat.

  The other man snickered lazily and ran a hand through his thatch of red hair. “Do you even know what you just said?”

  “Sterility?”

  The redhead snickered again, his steps wavering to one side before switching to the other. He was drunk. Kesia remembered learning about that. Drunk people were easier to take down and kill. “And this is why you had no ladies in your life before I joined your lab team. Did you see how those women were all over us, asking questions? It’s worth every possible fine. But no one will fine us because no one will know we took them out.”

  “Yes, well, I’m not sure name-dropping the Curious Intrigue was the best idea, Petre. What if those women tell the authorities?”

  Petre slapped him on the back of the neck. “Horton, they were drunk too. What police would believe them? Eh?” He tapped his head. “Smarts here—ow!”

  Smart enough to smack himself in the eyeball. Nevertheless, they were exactly who she needed. Kesia trailed them, hoping for more intel. Their conversation was mostly of exploits from their time that night and which woman had favored which man. More human mating rituals, including this idea of dating. Unlike dragons, humans didn’t have a fleetwing bond to guarantee they would be equally matched. Instead, they had to fumble around like animals in the dark, hoping they would meet someone compatible.