But we cannot kill all the nephilim in the world, Issari thought as the dragons cheered around her. There are too many. They breed too quickly. Her belly gave a twist. They breed inside me.

"Kinat!" she said to one of the Gosharian dragons. "How far is the city of Tur Kar?"

The bronze dragon glided at her side, old and creaky, his wings peppered with holes. "I have not been there in many years, White Priestess, but it does not lie much farther. The great Tur Kal, the Jewel of Terra, lies beyond the hills upon the border of grasslands and deserts. We'll be there soon."

Issari looked toward the distant tan hills.

I must find a home for the people of Eteer and Goshar, she thought. I must find more dragons. And I must find a cure for whatever rots inside me.

As the sun set, they reached the hills, and the people cried out and pointed and sang. Gliding high above the exodus, Issari looked to the south and saw the city there.

"Tur Kal," she whispered.

The city sprawled across the horizon, many marks wide, surrounded by ocher walls. A river flowed around it, feeding fields of wheat and barley. Beyond the wall stretched many narrow streets lined with tan, domed homes. In the city center rose three pyramids, hundreds of feet tall, structures even taller than King's Column in the north. All of Eteer and Goshar, Issari thought, could fit within these walls.

And they might have to. She looked at the people traveling below, leading their cattle, singing and dancing at the sight of the city, of hope. They pointed, and they played timbrels and drums, and they prayed—to Taal, to Shahazar, and to her. Could this be a home for them?

As they drew closer, Issari's heart sank.

Gliding at her side, Tanin cursed. "Stars damn it."

Issari nodded. "More of them. Hundreds of them. Nephilim."

The half-demons bustled above the city, their shrieks carrying on the wind. The sunset gleamed against thousands of arrows rising from the city walls. The cries of dying, and the scent of blood, reached Issari even here.

She looked behind her. She didn't even have to cry out; her dragons mustered, eyes bright, breath flaming, ready to fight.

They streamed across the hills.

They raced to the city of Tur Kal.

And there, as the night fell, Issari roared out her cry. "Dragons of Tur Kal, hear me! I am Issari, Queen of Dragons. Rise! Rise and fight with me!"

Nephilim buzzed toward her. Her fellow dragons flew around Issari, holding them back, burning and cutting and knocking them down. Below in the city, archers fired up at the half-demons, and swordsmen raced to hack at those nephilim who landed upon roofs and in streets.

Issari flew higher, circling above the pyramids, above the death and bloodshed. Her cry rang across the city.