Full darkness fell as Shulina Arya sailed farther south, away from the city and toward the oceanfront property Aunt Tadelay had described as the Lockvale estate. Rysha had known vaguely where it was, but she’d never had a reason to visit it since the Lockvales hadn’t had any children her age when she’d been growing up. If not for the dragon’s keen eyes, she never would have located the castle-like manor perched on and blending into a rocky bluff overlooking the ocean. Few gas lamps burned in or around the structure, and smoke only wafted from one of the many chimneys.

Rysha imagined the view was magnificent during the day and was surprised the Lockvales were dealing with financial difficulties.

There are no sheep, no cows, no chickens, and no farmlands down there, Shulina Arya observed. Nothing but rocks.

I’m sorry I was ready to go before you found a succulent sheep to sink fang and talon into, Rysha thought, believing the dragon was upset that she hadn’t gotten her dinner.

No, Storyteller, I am merely observing that the land where this castle exists has few of the things humans covet to sustain them. Dragons would also find it unappealing.

Ah, I see now. Yes, if the Lockvales weren’t able to derive much income from their land, that could explain some of the financial problems. Let’s go to the front door, please.

Shall I remain in my dragon form? I very much like your aunt’s idea of intimidating this man, and perhaps incinerating him, thus protecting your mate.

We should try to avoid incinerating Iskandian subjects. Not that the thought didn’t have a slight appeal to Rysha. If a dragon incinerated a man when nobody was around to see it, who would even know who had been responsible? Evidence would be at a minimum. Also, it looks like you’re too large to fit through the front door in your current form.

Yes, this is true. Human doors are so miniscule.

Actually, the large carved-oak doors at the front of the manor towered impressively to Rysha’s eye, and perhaps Shulina Arya could make it through them, but she imagined the rooms inside would prove a tight fit.

They landed on the front walkway, and Rysha slid off the dragon’s back. Can you tell if he’s inside, by chance?

She didn’t know if Shulina Arya had taken note of Lockvale the night they’d flown over the highway where he and his cronies had been watching the fire. Rysha hadn’t noticed them until Trip said something.

There are two men inside, Shulina Arya said.

Rysha tapped her fingers on her thigh. It would be more convenient if nobody but Lockvale was home to witness her pressuring him. Admittedly, she didn’t know if he was one of the two men inside. It was possible she was too late, that Lockvale had gone up to the city a day early to avoid having to get up early to travel for the inquest.

One man is up a set of stairs in a small room reading a book. The second is downstairs, not far from this door, in a much larger room with many seats. He is eating and has many newspapers spread around him.

Does he seem smug as he gloats over articles about Trip?

Rysha didn’t truly expect the dragon to be able to discover that, but Shulina Arya said, He does seem smug. And most contented. The way Bhrava Saruth acts when he’s getting belly rubs.

Let’s hope that’s him. Rysha strode toward the door. And that the other man is far enough away that he doesn’t hear us talking to Lockvale. It’s probably a butler or other servant who’s retired for the night.

Except Rysha expected to have to do more than talk. She touched the hilt of Dorfindral, glad she had the sword along. When soldiers weren’t on missions, their weapons were usually checked into the armory, as Rysha’s pistols and rifle currently were, but she’d argued that the chapaharii blades were too valuable to keep in there. It had helped that the armory sergeant had possessed a smidgen of dragon blood, and Dorfindral had flared threateningly at him at the suggestion of being placed inside.

Rysha tried to open the front door, deciding that sneaking up on the man so he didn’t have time to think, would be preferable to knocking and waiting. Lockvale might not even answer the door at night, assuming that nothing but trouble came visiting after dark, especially these days.

“He would be right,” she murmured and stepped back. The door hadn’t budged. “Shulina Arya?”

Rysha didn’t hear the click of the lock over the rumble of waves crashing below, but she did detect the faint thump of a bar being set aside. This time, she succeeded at pulling open the heavy door.

She stepped into a grand foyer with stone walls, a stone floor, and a timber ceiling high above. All manner of portraits of deceased Lockvales were on display.

Shulina Arya came in and stood beside her. She had switched to her human form with two pigtails sticking out to either side of her head and a mischievous ready-for-action gleam in her violet eyes.

“Ah.” Rysha didn’t want to be fussy when the dragon was helping her for no reason other than friendship, but… “Could you perhaps choose a more intimidating form?”

Shulina Arya looked down at herself, her pigtails flopping forward as she did so.

“How about a tiger?” Rysha suggested.

That is a feline, yes? I do not believe I’ve seen a tiger before. We must take a trip all around this new world, so I can observe all the mighty predators.

“I’ll take you to the zoo in the capital as soon as there’s time.” Rysha liked traveling as much as the next person, but her superiors might object to her taking months off to show the dragon the animals of the world.

Shulina Arya looked at her, perhaps getting an image of a tiger out of her mind. Then the dragon blurred and shifted before Rysha’s eyes, turning into an orange-and-black-striped cat with a long tail. A small cat.

“Larger, please.” Rysha re-formed her tiger image in her mind—it probably didn’t help that she’d only seen them at the zoo as a child—and placed it next to a human for comparison.

Oh, yes. A truly magnificent predator! Shulina Arya shifted again, then stood on all fours beside Rysha, their heads at the same height.

That was larger than Rysha had imagined, but she didn’t complain. An oversized tiger should be even more intimidating. The fangs were certainly long and visible.

“Good, let’s find him.” Rysha nodded for Shulina Arya, with her magical senses, to lead her to the man with the newspapers.

The dragon padded toward one of multiple halls that opened off the foyer, soundless on those cat’s feet. She soon stopped in front of an open door.

Rysha peered into a large sitting room with multiple fireplaces and a stone floor decorated with bearskin rugs. Antique swords, axes, and firearms hung on the walls, along with dozens of stuffed animal heads. Several old suits of armor towered about the room on pedestals.

She spotted Lockvale sitting at a table near one fireplace with a bowl of soup and a wine glass, papers strewn around him as Shulina Arya had described. The man was still dressed for the day, which Rysha was thankful for. She would have felt like a bully threatening someone in pajamas. She felt like a bully, as it was, and reminded herself this was for Trip, Trip who had only come into this man’s sights because he’d been helping her.

Chin firm, Rysha strode into the room with Shulina Arya. She was halfway to Lockvale before he noticed them.

He leaped up, knocking his chair over. “What is this? You dare intrude in Lockvale Manor?”

He gaped at the tiger in disbelief.

“I dare, yes.” Rysha stopped a few feet away from him. He’d moved around the table to put it between himself and them. “Because you dare make up ridiculous charges to slander someone honorable and with a great deal of integrity. More than that, you’re trying to have him hanged.”

“Because he’s a witch, you fool of a girl. All those people should be hanged.”

“All those people who have been helping defend the country from dragons, Cofah, and pirates?”

“So they tell us. But it’s only a matter of time before they take over again, as they once tried to do. That—that man used his evil power to read my mind. I was completely incapable of fighting back. When I tried to defend myself, he didn’t even have to lift a finger to send me hurling backward.”

“As I understand it, he was defending himself from you.”

“I didn’t try to read his mind.”

“You just tried to shoot him.”

“Because he’s a witch.”

Rysha wished she had a way to record his words like music on a phonograph so they could be played back at the inquest in the morning.

“Just like that one who’s been manipulating Angulus for the last three years,” Lockvale snarled.

“Sardelle?” Rysha couldn’t imagine who else he might mean. It had to either be she or Dr. Targoson.

“She controls him, and she controls the pilot Zirkander. Why more people don’t see that, I can’t imagine. She’s got them all under her thumb. Angulus used to be different. It used to be that if I or one of the other nobles went to him with a problem, he promptly did something to help. Now, he’s siding with witches.”

Lockvale eyed the tiger warily. “That’s not a real animal. It’s some illusion. Some witch magic.” He squinted at Rysha. “Are you experimenting with magic? I never would have thought a Ravenwood would turn to sorcerous ways.” He glanced toward the fireplace mantle. Both a sword and a rifle hung above it.

Rysha dropped a hand to Dorfindral. “I’m not a witch, and neither is the tiger. This is the gold dragon Shulina Arya, shape-shifted into a form suitable for walking into your castle. And eating you if need be.”

Shulina Arya put in a timely roar, and Lockvale's eyes bulged as he stumbled back from the table.

“That had better be a joke, girl,” he said, edging closer to the fireplace.

“Lord Lockvale.” Rysha stalked down the table opposite him, intending to head him off if he went for a weapon. “I am here because you falsely accused Captain Yert of attempted murder, and his efforts to build a weapon to defend the city from dragons are being interrupted because of your ridiculous inquest. I insist that you drop the charges, that you say you were mistaken and have realized the truth, that Trip was only defending himself.”

“Ridiculous. He attacked me.”

He actually seems to believe that, Storyteller. However, I can see into his thoughts and see that events unfolded as Captain Trip described. This man believes mind-reading is a heinous crime and that when your mate created a protective barrier around himself, it was the same as attacking. This man is most foolish.

“You weren’t there,” Lockvale added. “You don’t know what happened.”

“Actually, the dragon here is reading your mind and knows exactly what happened. It’s a shame you don’t. Perhaps you should learn about magic instead of insisting it’s pure evil and wetting yourself whenever it’s mentioned.”

Lockvale’s eyes flared with indignation. Aunt Tadelay possibly wouldn’t have approved of Rysha bringing latrine talk into the discussion.

“He’s manipulating you.” Lockvale thrust a finger toward Rysha. “The same way that witch manipulates the king. Get out of my home now, or I’ll add your name to my official complaint against your captain. I have friends in the city.” He waved toward the newspapers with his other hand. “Don’t think I can’t make this happen.”

May I incinerate him now, Storyteller? I am tired of listening to his ignorance and arrogance.

Lockvale must have heard the telepathic comment because his eyes grew even rounder. He lunged for the weapons above the fireplace.

Rysha ran to cut him off, but her boot hit a newspaper that had fallen to the floor, and she skidded. It only took her a second to catch her balance, but it was long enough for Lockvale to yank the sword off the wall. He spun toward her, gripping the weapon in both hands.

Rysha slowed before reaching him, seeing from his grip and his stance that he had experience.

“You will get out of my home now,” Lockvale growled.

“Not until you promise to revoke the charges against Trip.”

Rysha drew Dorfindral. She had experience too.

The blade glowed green, and she saw the alarm in Lockvale’s eyes, this proof that more magic was in effect. But he didn’t back down.

Seeing the glow made Rysha think that Lockvale might have some dragon blood in his veins, but Dorfindral urged her to attack the tiger behind her rather than the man, so she suspected it was only glowing because of Shulina Arya’s proximity. That meant that if she fought Lockvale, she would have only her own skills to draw upon. The blade wouldn’t help. So be it.

“Not only will I not revoke them, but I’ll add your name. I don’t care whose daughter you are. You broke into my home.” Lockvale snarled and leaped at her.

Do you wish me to flatten him to the ground, Storyteller? Shulina Arya asked as Rysha whipped Dorfindral up to parry.

Not unless I’m losing.

Rysha blocked a barrage of blows, sensing Lockvale’s frustration and anger. He hammered at her without finesse, though she did recognize a dueler’s classic thrusts and attacks.

She backed up as she parried, keeping an eye on the furnishings as she further studied his technique. He wasn’t as fast and clean with his blade work as the elite troops she’d been practicing with, and she kept him at bay without much trouble, ensuring her body remained relaxed, her arms fluid. She picked out four combinations of thrusts and slashes that he favored, repeating them over and over.

Rysha waited until he launched into one of the familiar routines, anticipated him, and burst into motion. She batted the flat of her sword against his knuckles as he swung into his second attack in the combination. He cried out, dropping the weapon. Before it hit the ground, she kneed him in the groin, then employed a leg sweep to knock him off his feet.

He fell to the stone floor, and she stepped on his chest before he could roll away. She pressed Dorfindral’s tip to his throat.

Lockvale opened his hands and looked at her face. He seemed more wary than truly afraid, and she didn’t think he believed she would kill him. Which was true. She had to figure out how to extract a promise from him in such a way that he wouldn’t feel justified in later ignoring it.

“Shulina Arya, can you show him what truly happened? And make him understand it?”

The other man is here. I am preventing him from entering the room.

Without moving her sword tip from Lockvale’s throat, Rysha looked toward the doorway.

“I understand what happened,” the newcomer said, presumably the man who had been reading upstairs. “I was there. Gemmon wanted me to join the others in testifying against the officer, but I would not.”

“He’s not an officer; he’s a witch,” Lockvale snarled.

“I suspect he’s both.”

“Go back to your books and puzzles, Jhag. This has nothing to do with you.”

Jhag—that was Lockvale’s younger brother, wasn’t it? Not the butler Rysha had guessed would be in the house with him.

“What will you do to him, Lady Ravenwood?” Jhag asked.

“I cannot let his ignorance and prejudice put my friend’s life at risk,” Rysha said, trying to sound grim and determined, like she might truly kill Lockvale. She glared down at him, making her eyes as hard as she could. “I will do whatever I need to do to protect him. Just as he would do anything to protect me.”

If my rider does not slay him, I will incinerate him myself, for he has proven himself an enemy and a hater of those born of dragons, Shulina Arya said, wood creaking under her large feline form. She’d hopped onto the table and sat on her haunches, her tail swishing about, knocking newspapers onto the floor. Though perhaps in this form, I should simply devour him? Tigers devour humans, do they not?

She shared a graphic image with all of them of a tiger chasing down a man, springing onto his back and bearing him to the ground, then ripping his head off and beginning its meal.

“Seven gods.” Jhag gripped the doorjamb.

Rysha had to fight to maintain her position, not to back away and lower her sword. That vision was so vivid that it would have been intensely disturbing even if it hadn’t reminded her of the bear that had nearly eaten her back on that barge in Lagresh.

“I’ll do it,” Lockvale said, his voice so squeaky Rysha could barely hear him.

That inspired an idea for her, that and the fact that she didn’t quite believe Lockvale.

Shulina Arya? she asked silently.

Yes?

Can you do something to his vocal cords to keep him from speaking? A temporary injury or some damage that could later be healed?

Yes, I can do this.

Good, do it please.

“Excellent,” Rysha said in response to Lockvale. “To ensure that’s the case, my magical blade here has left a stamp on your throat.” She stepped back, drawing Dorfindral from Lockvale’s neck, and waving the sword so he would take note of the green glow.

But Lockvale was busy taking note of something else. He winced, touching a hand to his throat, then opened his mouth to speak. His lips and tongue moved, but no words came out.

“You’ll tell no more lies,” Rysha said. “But if you visit the king and take back the one you told about Trip, I’ll return to your home and heal the damage to your vocal cords. If you don’t, then you’ll never speak again.”

She didn’t need magic to sense his rage and indignation.

Does this mean I don’t get to devour him? Shulina Arya asked, the words for everyone in the room. She oozed disappointment. In this feline form, the idea seems oddly appealing.

Lockvale pushed himself to his feet, looking for a moment like he might snatch up the sword and attack Rysha again, but Shulina Arya also stood, her violet eyes exuding power as she looked at him.

Lockvale unclenched his fists, then turned his back to them and stalked to a window overlooking the sea.

I guess that means the meeting is adjourned, Rysha thought.

Shulina Arya hopped off the table, and they walked toward the door where Jhag still stood, his face ashen. He hurried to step aside.

Rysha hadn’t intended to evoke any promises from him—especially if he had been the one man in that group on the highway who’d been unwilling to throw Trip to the wolves—but after pausing to let them pass, he hurried to catch up and walk at her side.

“I’ll make sure he does what you asked,” Jhag said quietly. “I think the threat of never speaking again will be enough to convince him, but if it’s not…” He spread his hand. “I was there that night. I saw what happened. I didn’t want to speak against my own brother, but everything he’s been doing lately, including trying to get your family’s estate—not to mention the Orehills’ and the Tenderwoods’ estates—has been against my wishes. It isn’t what Grandfather would have wanted, and it’s not honorable.”

“Good,” Rysha said as they reached the door, surprised at this unexpected support. “Thank you.”

He nodded and showed her—and her tiger—out with a deferential manner. But Rysha wouldn’t know until tomorrow if anything she had done here would truly have an effect. Maybe Lockvale simply wouldn’t show up and the charges would stand. Maybe the man wasn’t that attached to his voice anyway. Or maybe he would come in with a list of accusations that now included Rysha’s nighttime visit. Noble blood or not, she could end up in a cell right next to Trip’s for this.

“We’ll see in the morning,” she murmured.

Whatever happened, at least she had done everything she could.