She opened her eyes to see claws growing on her fingertips. Her body ballooned, knocking demons back. White scales, glimmering like mother of pearl, grew across her body like armor. Demons clawed but could not break through.

A white dragon, Princess Issari rose in the chamber, sounded her roar, and blew her fire.

RAEM

 
RAEM

He stood in the charred rooftop gardens—the same place he had stabbed his father—stitching the wound his daughter had given him. His lips were tight, and sweat dripped down his face as he worked, sewing his arm shut.

The trees, bushes, and flowerbeds lay burnt around him. The broken lattices rose like blackened bones. Once this had been a garden of life, a place of solitude and peace. The dragons had come. The dragons had burned. The dragons had torn his life apart, torn his children from him.

Two of those children—Laira and Sena—now flew in the north, diseased creatures. His third child, his youngest, he had taught too well.

"Issari is like me," Raem said softly into the ashy wind. "A traitor to her father. And so she will suffer."

He violently thrust the needle into his arm, savoring the pain. He was sewing the last stitch when the palace shook. Dust flew. Bricks toppled into a courtyard below. Raem leaned over the roof's edge and sucked in his breath.

A white dragon crashed out of the palace doorway, shattering bronze and stone, and soared into the sky.

Raem stared, silent.

A cloud of demons burst out of the palace like black blood spilling from an infected wound. They began to fly in pursuit, but the white dragon turned and blasted fire. The inferno blazed across the demons and crashed into the palace, forcing Raem to step back into the charred gardens. Sparks landed upon him, searing his skin; he was still shirtless after his visit to the cistern. When the flames died, he saw demon corpses upon the courtyard below. The white dragon was already flying toward the coast.

Light caught the dragon's palm, shining against something metallic. Raem knew that light.

An amulet of Taal.

"Issari," he whispered.

Before he could take another breath, the roof crashed open behind him. Through a cloud of rock and smoke, Angel ascended, shrieking. Claw marks drove down her stony chest, leaking lava. Rings of fire burst out from her.

"Your daughter!" she cried, voice a storm. "Your daughter is diseased!" She landed before him, wings knocking down charred trees, and clawed what remained of the roof. "You have forbidden me to leave this city, and now she flees. Send me after her!"

Raem was surprised.

Not surprised that Issari was a dragon.

Not that his city crumbled around him.

Not that his wound dripped, a failed assassination attempt from his dearest daughter.

Raem was surprised that, despite all these things, he found himself feeling remarkably calm, even casual.