I whistled for Dorna’s horse, Pocket Biter, and Brother Qown’s gelding, Cloud, as I began to lower the deer we’d caught earlier from the tree. “Mare Dorna, Brother Qown, help tie up our friends while these men assist us in breaking camp. Ninavis, you’ll ride Arasgon. I’ll saddle our horses. The rest of you—don’t make trouble.”

The smile on Kalazan’s face surprised me. I remembered his talk of prophecy, of a demon-claimed child. He had no fear. Of course he had no fear—the hero who would deliver them all from Captain Dedreugh and his men had arrived.

I didn’t know if I wanted him to be right.

3: THE BARON’S JUSTICE

Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Two days since the death of Emperor Sandus

“Wait,” Kihrin said. “The firebloods talk? Those horses in the stable can talk?” He pointed behind him for emphasis.

Kihrin had always spoken to Scandal as though she understood him. When he was a boy, he’d treated a cat named Princess the same way. People liked to regard their pets as family. That didn’t mean the animals talked back.

“Oh no,” Brother Qown said. “Now you’ve done it.”

“What?”

“They’re not horses,” Janel insisted. “Firebloods are imperial citizens with full legal rights.”

Kihrin’s eyes widened. “Has anyone told the empire?”

Janel set her mug down firmly. “When Atrin Kandor liberated Jorat from the god-king Khorsal, he granted citizenship to both races the god-king had enslaved: humans and firebloods. Calling a fireblood a horse is like calling a human an animal. Yes, they talk.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not their fault you never learned to understand them.”

“Well, that puts a different slant on Darzin’s attempts to breed Scandal.” Kihrin made a face. “A rather obscene slant.” Not that it would have changed his horrible brother’s actions at all. In fact, it wouldn’t have surprised Kihrin if his brother had known the truth about firebloods and tried, anyway. That sounded like Darzin.

“You call Hamarratus Scandal?” The tone in Janel’s voice implied Kihrin had flunked a test.

“Is that … wait. Why do you think Scandal’s name is Hamarratus?” Kihrin remembered Star mentioning the name to the old groom.

“Hamarratus told me in the stable,” Janel said. “Remember, they can talk.”

Kihrin considered the sounds the horses—rather, the firebloods—had produced during the dragon attack. He’d assumed they were normal excited horse noises. Storm. Big dragon. Lots of danger. But speech?

Maybe.

“I realize this is a shock,” Brother Qown told him. “Believe me, I sympathize.”

“Star says she likes the name Scandal,” Kihrin said. “I’ll keep calling her that.”

“Fine,” Janel said. “If that’s her choice rather than the pet name you gave a slave.”

Kihrin’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not a slave.”

“She’d better not be.”