Everyone ran. Most ran away from the scene, but not all; Janel, Brother Qown, and Ninavis’s band ran forward. The remaining elephants rampaged, stampeding back and forth as they vainly attempted to regain their stolen sisters.

A half dozen arrows loosed from somewhere in the tall grass impacted the dragon as the beast continued her flight. Unfortunately, even as the arrows hit, they did no damage at all. Indeed, the dragon gave no hint she even noticed herself under attack. When Brother Qown reached Janel, she was standing over Ninavis, who was sitting up in the grass. The bandit leader had strung her bow and fired at the retreating dragon. Seeing the results, Ninavis had resorted to ineffective shouted curses.

“Bastard!” Ninavis screamed. “Bastard, you come back here!”

“I don’t think it can hear you.” Janel crossed her arms over her chest. “And I don’t think we want it to. At least you didn’t catch its attention by firing arrows at it. How foolish would that have been?”

Ninavis responded with a string of blistering expletives.

“Brother Qown,” Count Janel said, “might you see to Ninavis’s wounds? She seems to have injured herself. Again.”

“Only my pride,” Ninavis groused.

“Oh? I could’ve sworn you must have fallen on your head.”

Ninavis scowled and unstrung her bow. “What was that monster?”

“A dragon,” Brother Qown volunteered. “I’ve never seen one in person before.” Brother Qown would have liked to go on about how beautiful he’d found the beast, but he didn’t think the sentiment would have been appreciated.

“Come on, then.” Count Janel held out her hand to Ninavis. “Lean on me. We need to get these elephants calmed down and move fast.” She pointed up at the sky.

In the wake of the dragon’s passing, the sky began turning black, not from nightfall, but storm clouds.

“What…?”

“A bad storm is coming,” the count said, “so wherever your hiding place is, I hope it’s close.”

12: THE FEAST OF DEMONS

Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Two days since Queen Khaeriel lost her patience with House D’Mon

Kihrin said, “So what was Aeyan’arric doing—?”

The room quaked, a single jarring tremble. The cause seemed obvious enough; something massive had just landed on the hillside above the tavern.

Something as heavy as a giant dragon, perhaps.

Conversation throughout the tavern stopped. Everyone looked up at the ceiling and waited to see if it would repeat.

In the silence, Kihrin had no trouble hearing the old woman at the bar say, “You don’t figure she can dig down here, do you?”

At that moment, Kihrin realized the tavern customers weren’t ignorant about what was happening outside. They hadn’t responded with panic or screams or frantic questions about what made that noise. They hadn’t looked around, trying to pinpoint the threat’s direction. They’d all stared up at the ceiling.

They already knew.