Maddugh threw another party.

“A betrothal luncheon,” he’d informed her. “Just the household, a few friends, and local business people over for lunch.”

Kailigh arrived in the hall, exasperated but amused. She’d dressed, which was tacit approval. The corset she wore was one she’d bought years ago from a traveling merchant. Deep red leather with copper studs, matching cuffs around her wrists. She’d put on her best skirt made of a swath of chocolate satin, gathered here and there to create flounces. It might not be quite up to a rich man’s standards, but her waist was nipped in and her cleavage plentiful—and Kai was certain that was all that really mattered.

Maddugh’s blond son nudged him and his head turned, a grin on his face before he froze. Kailigh’s head tilted as she watched him stride towards her, grin gone.

“Are you mad?” he exclaimed. “I want no bloodshed tonight over you.”

Kailigh laughed. “You’re a sweet boy.”

Maddugh scowled. “Woman, I’m centuries older than you.”

She patted his cheek. “I’m hungry. Feed me, Seymour.”

“What?”

Kailigh shrugged. “Old saying. Don’t know where from.”

He sighed, muttering something about keeping her close and side eyed her breasts. She just arched a brow, smirking. The side tables were packed full of food, and he’d arranged for a small bar. The bartender, jaunty with his white sleeves rolled up and a brightly colored vest and shiny top hat, asked her what she’d be having.

“Whiskey, on the rocks,” she said.

Maddugh leaned towards her, lips brushing against her ear. “Have two, my dear. So I may take advantage of you tonight.”

She snorted. “I can drink any man or dragon under a table, so you’d best get that thought out of your head.” She accepted her glass, bringing it to her lips and tilting the fiery drink down her throat. Smooth, rich. Ah... the good stuff. “I might be up for a romp, however.” Her body moistened in response to the thoughts running through her head. Maddugh, muscles slick, eyes on fire, above her. The thick length of him ready to make her scream.

“Stone and Steam,” she said, involuntarily.

“What are you thinking, Kailigh?” he asked, voice a deep purr. “You know I can sense—”

“Oh, be quiet.” She blushed a bit, and then slid her arm through his, leading him to the middle of the ballroom where dancing had begun.

Maddugh whirled her around the floor with as much enthusiasm as skill and it took all her concentration to glide along with him, and not simply be a rag doll in his arms. She heard a familiar shriek of laughter and glanced around until she spotted Cinvarra, standing on the edges of the dance with a grin on her face. Her cheeks were still thinner than normal, but there was color under her skin. She looked lovely in the rose-colored gown she wore.

“Did you buy the girls’ dresses?” she asked. She didn’t recognize Cinvarra’s dress.

“I had to bribe them for permission to marry their mother,” Maddugh replied, then paused, thoughtful. “Though Serephone wanted knives. I believe she spent the day hounding the blacksmith.”

Kailigh winced, and then laughed.

Eventually, she left his side, seeking her daughters to discuss their day, and update herself on the progress of their courtships.

“You know the deal I struck with the dragon Lord?” she asked, having drawn the three into a semi-private corner.

“He told us,” Persia said. “You didn’t have to, Ma.”

Kailigh shrugged. “It is no hardship, and I am better prepared for the trials of marriage than you three. Now, you may take your time.”

“You told him I can grow things,” Cinvarra said, her voice soft.

Kai glanced at her youngest child. “No, I didn’t say which daughter. He must have guessed.”

“He said we would talk about a position in his government. And that I need not ever wed unless that is what I chose.”

Kai held her breath. “What do you want to do?”

“A job is a good thing, especially if it’s my own stepfather.” Cinvarra grinned. “I bet I’ll get paid well.”

“Fortune hunters,” Serephone muttered.

“There’s that,” Kai acknowledged. “But we’ll take our time, and be choosy. And remember—you do not have to wed. So be very choosy.”

* * *

She danced a few more times, filled her plate once, and returned to the bar a second time. She was grown, and could indulge if she wanted to. The evening was well underway when Serephone appeared at her shoulder. Kai had found herself a chair in a quiet corner to sit and let her head settle for a moment while she watched Maddugh mercilessly tease his eldest sons who, apparently, didn’t care to dance. Hrutha flirted with every lady present, and a few of the men.

“Mother.”

Kai glanced up at Serephone and frowned, noticing the tension in her daughter’s shoulders right way. She rose. “What’s wrong?”

“An airbus was spotted coming into town. If we want to nab that mechanical-armed bandit, we have to move now.”

The pleasant lethargy of food and exercise and strong alcohol evaporated. “Find Persia.” They wove through the crowd, looking for the other twin. “Who is your informant?”

“I heard conversation—there are humans among the guests tonight.”

She’d seen them, and wondered if they’d crashed the party or if they were favored friends or associates of Maddugh.

“Will you tell him?” Serephone asked.

Kailigh considered, spotting Persia at the buffet table. “No.”

He would be angry, but he would just have to deal with it. She was a grown woman and mistress of her own actions—he might be her husband soon, but she wasn’t his subject.

Kailigh was torn whether to take Persia or leave her here to watch over Cinvarra. In the end, she reasoned that if she couldn’t leave her girl in the care of her future husband and his people, then she had no business marrying him.

The three of them slipped out of the hall one by one, Kailigh not wanting to chance Maddugh seeing them go all at once, and becoming suspicious. She hurried to her room and did little more than tear off the skirt to don sturdy brown trousers and boots, throwing a jacket over the corset and checking her flintlock, the shaped handle fitting with a sure grip in her palm. She holstered it, choosing the plain black over her more decorative studded brown. Some days she wanted her weapons to be visible—other days she wanted to sneak up on a varmint.

They left shortly after, Kailigh scanning her daughters as they strode out of the castle to ensure they were also properly outfitted. Persia’s not so subtle tendency towards drama manifested itself at the more inappropriate times. She needn’t have worried about Serephone—the eldest twin was all in black, a silent shadow, her chosen weapon, a long rapier and matching dagger strapped at her thigh.

“You don’t bring a knife to a gunfight,” Kailigh said.

Serephone’s hand brushed the small of her back and Kai nodded, satisfied. They jogged, since saddling up horses would have called attention to their travel.

“Avoid the guard post,” she said.

Sneaking wasn’t technically her way—thus she'd always chosen to simply confront the man, also taking a perverse pleasure in the verbal scuffle, but tonight there was no time for such petty amusements. As soon as they'd cleared hearing range, the three broke into a fast lope, swift and sure. They made good time to town. Persia pointed up as they broke through the forest line. An airbus hovered over the town square, its docking ladder descended to allow passengers and small cargo to ascend and descend. Like stairs to heaven or hell.

“We’re not going in guns blazing,” she warned. “We need to know how many guards he has with him, and what they’re armed with.” If they were lucky, the enemy wasn’t armed with more than hand blades and standard flintlocks. If they had the pneumatic rifles with double chambers, she and the girls were screwed. They couldn’t compete with that kind of advanced firepower. Recalling the last run in with Ruthus, Kai figured she’d better plan for screwed.

"Dead or maimed?" Persia asked, voice quiet.

"Dead," she replied, grim. "He already has one mechanical arm. And he won't stop trying to catch your sister. It’s more than just-"

"He's obsessed," Persia said.

Serephone just nodded, expression grim. It was the reality that no matter how well armed they were, no matter how vigilant, eventually everyone slipped up. She should have killed him a long time ago, but had been worried about bringing a wasp nest down around their heads. But Cinvarra had been shot, and now they had the backup of the Dwyrkin Lord who employed over two thirds of the local population.

A wasp nest? Her dragon would just burn it down. He'd be pissed when he found out, though.

She recognized many of the vendors from the Dwyrkin faire the other day in addition to the regulars. Her own spot in the fray stood empty, the booth she’d normally have laden with fresh produce, canned goods and the occasional set of baked goods. She wasn’t the best baker though—she usually gave her bread away for free after the purchase of a much tastier jam.

Kailigh noticed the looks she and the girls received, and recognized the sudden quiet packing of several of the booths.

“I warned them that next time they saw us it would be a gunfight,” Persia said quietly. “The ones who stay are armed.”

Kailigh made a mental note of who stayed, and who quietly packed up shop. “Hatcher?”

“He doesn’t know. Best that way, right? Plausible deniability.”

They took up positions near their empty stand, Persia trotting around to the mothers in the crowd and hustling them away. Occasionally, flashing a weapon if an owner needed extra convincing. But Kai’s was well known enough around town, and a look at her hard face was all the convincing some people needed. Plus, the sudden flashing of multiple weapons from the vendors who’d stayed.

The crowd remained quiet but tense as Ruthus emerged down the plank. Men walked in front and behind him, but it was clear he thought it business as usual. Kailigh allowed him that delusion until he reached the ground, then stepped from the cover of her stand.

“Ruthus Adjrius,” she yelled, “this is a citizen’s arrest.”

And then all hellfire broke loose.

His men reacted immediately, Ruthus pulling a pistol with his real arm. Kailigh didn’t wait, sighting her flintlock and opening fire. The courtyard was clear of bystanders—anyone who remained was committed to the fight. And he wasn’t going to turn himself in easy.

They kept the cover of the booth, even when more of Ruthus’ men came running down the street. Vendors turned, taking care of the attack on their flanks while Kailigh emerged from her shelter.

Ruthus grimaced. “You’ll regret this stupidity, mistress,” he shouted. “Who do you think is backing me?”

That was a question for the constable—and for Maddugh. The sides were evenly matched—until townspeople began arriving, their small handguns and sawed off shotguns grabbing Ruthus’ attention. His men were well armed, but suddenly outnumbered. Kailigh grinned, jaw locked, and increased her fire, pausing only to reload ammo. The whole thing was barely a handful of minutes, though it felt like a week of gunfire. As more townspeople arrived, Kailigh knew that they had a shot of capturing him—dead or alive.

"He's retreating!” Persia yelled.

The one-armed man was scrambling up the airbus ladder, counting on his men to keep the women occupied. Kailigh gritted her teeth but was hard pressed to do anything but continue to return fire.

Serephone glanced in the direction of Persia's stare and dropped to one knee. Moving swiftly, she pulled a narrow metal tube from inside her vest, put it to her lips, and blew.

Kailigh jerked, a shot firing wild. The tube let out a high-pitched shriek and a rapid series of tiny, shiny objects flew in a stream. The silver things caught the edges of his sleeves, at first appearing as if Sere had missed. But they expanded, unfolding into a gaggle of eerie silver spiders and began crawling all over him. He screamed, and she could see rents in the fabric of his coat and thin streams of blood.

He jerked, losing his grip as he frantically swiped at the mechanical spiders, and fell backward. It wasn’t a long drop, but it was enough that he made a thud, head cracking against the packed dirt of the circle.

A constable's whistle blew. Their enemies continued to fire, but slowly backed up, grim and professional.

Kailigh cursed and ran forward from her protected crouch, swerving to avoid bullets and the deadly currents of burning steam. She stumbled as the tiniest trickle of heat seared her upper left arm.

And in the distance, a dragon roared.