She stirred and sat up in the passenger seat, taking a moment to scan her surroundings. It had been a long drive from the lone farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, and the scenery had certainly changed. Now large buildings, intersections and traffic replaced endless fields and open sky, unusual for the farmlands of Idaho but not for a city like Reno, Nevada. It was late evening, and the sun had nearly set behind the distant looming mountains. Headlights lit the roads and streets, horns blared and swarms of people meandered down the sidewalks.

I repressed a sigh. Another large, crowded city. I missed the brief respite of the farm; despite the many noisy teen dragons sharing the house, you could still walk outside and hear nothing but birds, insects and the wind in the trees. It reminded me of my old chapterhouse, isolated deep in the Mohave Desert, a sanctuary from the rest of the world.

“What time is it?” Ember asked, turning back to me.

“Eighteen forty-five,” I answered, and at her slightly bewildered look, added, “Quarter to seven.”

She nodded and gazed through the windshield at the restaurant on the edge of the parking lot. “He’s meeting us at seven-thirty, right?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Though knowing Tristan, he’s probably already here.” I’d contacted my former partner almost immediately after arriving at the farmhouse, though I hadn’t known whether I’d hear from him again. After what had happened with the Patriarch, I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted nothing to do with me. Once I’d sent the message, I’d wondered if Tristan himself was all right. I might have defeated the Patriarch in battle and destabilized St. George, but from what I’d heard from Ember, it was Tristan himself who had shot and killed the leader of the Order. He wouldn’t be punished for it; I knew that at least. The Patriarch had broken the rules of the duel, confirming his guilt, and Tristan had acted accordingly. But it was still a heavy weight to bear, executing the man the Order revered above all others.

To my surprise, he’d responded within minutes, insisting we meet face-to-face. Reno was a good halfway point, and an unassuming restaurant, surrounded by witnesses, was a good spot for both of us to know we weren’t being set up. We were still enemies, on opposite sides of the war, and I couldn’t drop my guard.

Ember checked the pistol strapped to her waist, pulled her shirt down to conceal the holster and glanced at me. “Ready?”

I nodded. “Stay alert,” I told her. “I know you’re aware of what we’re up against, but Tristan is still part of the Order. We can’t expect him not to turn on us.”