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The door to the kitchen banged open, and Lou rushed out to my side, staring up in horror. Even in the moons’ light, it was clear how pale she’d become.

“Rivven?” She grabbed my arm. “Why is there a fucking dragon on the roof of my establishment?”

I couldn’t hide my amusement, and I guess Ven sensed that because she began swinging her tail playfully, thumping against the side of the building and probably waking every soul inside.

“This is not funny,” she scolded, voice rising by an octave. She gripped my arm harder, making me finally turn toward her. I guess the stupid grin on my face was unwelcome because her glare intensified. “This is your fault. Of course it’s your fault. I hate dragons. A dragon murdered my family, Rivven. This is not funny.”

It wasn’t. But for some reason each of her proclamations made the whole thing seem more ridiculous, and therefore more humorous. In a dark way.

“Well, this dragon will protect you,” I managed without actually laughing out loud. I clapped her on the back.

“I want it gone. No, I want it dead, but I will settle for gone,” she ground out as Galan and Torvo appeared at the bottom of the steps, necks craned skyward.

“You can ask it to leave, but I’m not sure it will understand or even care.” I shrugged. “Nor am I sure what you expect me to do about it.” I slipped my sword back in its worn leather scabbard.

Galan intercepted just as Lou lunged toward me with an admirable growl of frustration. He smiled down at her, body between us, her wrists caught in his hands. “As much as I would love to blame this on Rivven, the dragon has a mind of its own, and I doubt he either called it or would be capable of chasing it away. You know this, Lou. You’ve seen it circling when it was just me here.”

“Circling yes, but perched on my godsdamned house? You are supposed to keep a low profile. How is this low profile?” She bit out each word, throwing accusatory glares at each of us.

“There is no connection between this dragon and the princess,” I lied. I doubted the king would connect the dots with the egg Nyah had won in the Imrati. To him, the life inside meant nothing.

“Look at the bright side,” Galan added as Torvo turned and went back inside. “It will attract even more new clientele now and keep out the ones you don’t want. Your own guard dragon, as it were.”

Lou narrowed her eyes, nostrils flaring and fists clenched. Galan flinched, which made the stupid smile on my face grow wider.

“You know dragons don’t fly over open seas. It had better not get comfortable waiting here after you set sail.” Lou pried her arms away from Galan’s grip and crossed them below her ample chest.

“Let’s go down to the docs and recruit,” I said, turning toward the exit. “The sooner we set sail, the more likely Ven will lose interest in…nesting here.”

“You named it?” Lou gasped.

“Why don’t I accompany you?” Galan said, grabbing her hand and picking up the pace.

A cry burst from the dragon at the top of the inn as though it knew exactly how that would go over. I liked Ven. I’d have to tell Nyah next time I spoke with her. Lou cringed in my periphery, and Galan put an arm around her as we marched forward, down the hill toward the docks.

My good mood dissolved the closer we got to the sound of shifting seas. The rush of the waves over the shore was constant, something like a comforting heartbeat I never noticed was missing until I heard it again. But the gloom of pre-dawn and the quiet creaks of footsteps along the boardwalk added a sinister feel to the journey. I knew the types of people who skulked in the shadows of the once-great town. Some hid like rats from sunlight, craving the dark. Others though, bided their time, searching for anyone they thought might be an easy mark.

I was not an easy mark, and for their sakes, I hoped they understood that.

As we rounded the corner of a crumbling building with faded yellow paint, a shadow slipped out from the stoop. I raised a handful of flame to see what I was up against and to warn them off. What I found was the face of my little sister, blinking up at me with a soft smile curving her lips. Somehow, she’d followed us—or more likely anticipated what I was going to do and beat us out here.

I dropped my hand, and she flew into my arms, tightening hers around my waist with enough force to nearly knock me backward.

“Sharlyne,” I whispered into her hair, which smelled of sea and home. She’d cleaned up since we’d made it to Lou’s, the only reminder of her capture the faded cut on her bottom lip.

“Riv.” She pulled back, releasing me, then her face darkened. “Don’t you dare.”

She’d cut me off before I could scold her for being out at such a dangerous time of day, alone on the boardwalk, especially after what she’d just been through. I’d grown used to the women in my family answering questions before they came out of my mouth. That was what living with seers was like.

“You can’t always see danger coming,” I said as softly as I could manage. Visions of our mother’s tortured body in Centos danced in my mind. She hadn’t known. And Sharlyne would have a hard time convincing me if she planned to claim Mother had seen them coming to kidnap her and gone anyway.

“True,” Sharlyne agreed, threading her arm through my elbow and tugging me on toward the dock. “But I could see that you needed me. Or more accurately, this.” She slipped a small elven-made, onyx dagger into my sleeve as we walked.

I grunted in response. All the more reason she shouldn’t have come.

“I’m joining you on the journey,” she added as we came upon the larger ships and a smattering of men gathered around a game of dice. “It’s my destiny, so don’t try to talk me out of it.”

Glowering, I bit back my argument. This wasn’t the time.