As my cousin climbed higher and higher into the air to inform my granduncle that I had, in fact, not perished in Behold Her’s nighttime attack, I was again struck by just how much devastation the ruby dragon had wrought with a few breaths and a short tantrum. The palace had been partially collapsed when I first saw it, but it had still stood for the most part, its upper floors and roof many stories above the rock on which it perched. Old-growth forest had stood dense and dark around and even in it, the kind of forest that you might, if you were lucky, find in the most remote wildernesses on Earth. Now everything that Indomitable hadn’t dug away was a pile, spilling into several football pitches’ worth of dust, stone, and the scoured bones of those animals unfortunate enough to get caught in Behold Her’s crimson mist.

  Of a palace that had once stood tall and proud, the highest point of the pile couldn’t be much more than thirty feet high. Still, thirty feet was thirty feet, and it would raise us above the undergrowth and the uneven forest floor. I knew from before that from up there, much of the rest of Malyon was visible between the few trees that still stood between us and the edge of the rock, and the view was worth it.

  “I’m going to climb the ruins and see if I can see anything,” I told the humans. “Come with me?”

  They did. Only Maglan wasn’t so hot on the idea, but after Herald gave him a pleading look which bordered dangerously on a pout, the young man shrugged and said, “I never was much of a climber, but it looks like the view might be worth it. Sure.”

  With the way his eyes never left Herald I suspected it wasn’t the view of the forested ruins he was talking about, but that was their business.

  Climbing the same pile as I had two days before was easier without the pain. And while both I and my sisters were used to better views, Maglan wasn’t. He got up there, finally getting his head above the ruins and the densest part of the forest, and what he saw took his breath away. Literally! As the overgrown city spread out beneath us, the occasional partially standing building poking out here and there, I heard him take a sharp breath. Then he just stood there, mouth half agape and entirely still until Herald got worried and rubbed his back, at which point he put his arm around her and began breathing normally again.

  I was only half aware of that, though, because I was looking at something I’d never seen, and had never expected to. One of the forest giants—Behold Her’s tree—was burning.

  To say that it was burning didn’t quite do the situation justice. I’d seen fires before. Bushfires, mostly. I’d seen them from all kinds of angles on the news, and very distantly in person. This… this was something else. Nothing could have possibly prepared me for the sight of a tree hundreds and hundreds of feet tall, with a crown roughly the volume of a football stadium, utterly engulfed by fire. Billows of flame stretched high into the sky, only partially obscured by black smoke enough to choke out a suburb, which drifted roiling away to the southeast. And high above, away from the choking fumes, a figure circled, buoyed by the rising currents, glinting occasionally in the sunlight.

  “That is Embers,” Herald said reverently. “She truly did come back.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “She did.”

  I had no reason to think that Sandstorm would lie about that, or about anything, for that matter. As far as I knew I hadn’t yet heard a dragon other than myself lie about anything. But being told that she was back and seeing her there, wreaking fiery—if somewhat petty—vengeance was something else.

  “Ah… The two above us, they’re coming down,” Maglan said with a distinctly nervous creak, pulling my focus away from my mother and her distant inferno. Sure enough, my two relatives were both descending, gliding downward in those same lazy turns with which Indomitable had circled high above us. There was no urgency there, and no consideration for my own nerves. That really shouldn’t have surprised me, though; dragons did things on their own time whenever they could, and I doubted that Sandstorm had really picked up on my anxiety. That wasn’t her fault; my mannerisms were far too human for her, and it wasn’t like I’d gone out of my way to make it clear.

  “Little Draka! You live!” Indomitable rumbled once they’d landed in the wasteland that surrounded the ruin. His eyes were narrowed in satisfaction, and he rustled his wings in a way that suggested to some instinctive part of me that he was happy to see me. “I had thought you dead. Your mother shall be pleased!”

  Swallowing my own anxiety over what I’d decided to reveal, I replied, “Granduncle, thank you for continuing to dig out my humans despite that. But are you sure about my mother? She was quite unhappy with me when she left.”

  “Oh, yes,” he said. “Do not tell her I said so, but she was distressed to find you gone. I am sure you can see from your perch that she has kept herself busy trying to ensure the truth of Behold Her And Know That All Things Must End’s name. I am sure she will be most relieved to see you here when she comes to inspect my granddaughter’s progress.” With that his attention turned to the humans next to me. “I see that you have brought some humans up with you. Is this all of them?”

  “Ah, no,” I replied, my nerves soothed somewhat by his words. There was no way for me to be sure that he was right, but I could use some hope just then. “There are twice as many still down there. These are—”

  “The biggest one is Herald! You met her before,” Sandstorm said excitedly. “The little one is her sister, Makonum—”

  “Makanna,” I corrected. “Drakonum Makanna.”

  “—and the last one is a male who is Herald’s mate,” she continued, ignoring my correction completely. “His name is… Maglan!” she finished. She practically radiated smug satisfaction at remembering his name.

  “I see,” Indomitable said, acknowledging Sandstorm indulgently. “Though I believe that your cousin was about to introduce them.”

  “Oh,” she said, completely free of anything resembling regret, remorse, repentance, or contrition for interrupting me.

  “We may as well finish the introductions,” I said, successfully keeping my annoyance in check. “Mak, Mag, this is my mother’s uncle, Indomitable. It is thanks to him that we’re all free, since he did most of the work digging through the remains of the palace. Though we couldn’t have done without Sandstorm’s efforts, either.”

  “Thank you, Great One,” Mak said, and the humans all bowed where they stood beside me on the highest remaining point of the ruin.

  “Makanna is one of my two healers,” I added, “and she is very precious to me. I truly appreciate that you continued working to free them all even after you suspected that I might be dead. If there is some life after this, it would have been a comfort to know that they, at least, had a chance of making it out.”

  “Oh, it seemed a shame to let them perish when the work was half done already,” Indomitable said graciously. “And your mother mentioned that she liked some of them. I thought she might wish to claim them if you were gone.”

  “Perhaps,” I said noncommittally. I still wasn’t so sure, but that might have been the best outcome with them stuck here in the north and hostile dragons around. “Still, I do appreciate it. And as for my mother…”

  I trailed off, gathering myself. I once again wondered if this was the best thing to do, but with Herald, Instinct, and Conscience all in agreement I really couldn’t justify keeping silent.

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  Indomitable waited patiently. Sandstorm less so. “What about your mother?” my cousin asked.

  “I thought you should hear from me why she was so upset. She had to find out on her own, and I believe she felt betrayed. I don’t want to repeat the same mistake with you, especially not now that you’ve both put in so much effort to help me.”

  I also wouldn’t be surprised if Embers told them soon, assuming that she hadn’t already and that Indomitable just wasn’t letting on that he knew.

  “Oh, I do admit that I was curious,” Indomitable rumbled. He took a few steps closer, and Sandstorm followed. “Go on, then. What is it that was so terrible that my niece’s distress outweighed her concern for you?”

  “I, ah…” I didn’t like the way they seemed to be crowding in, despite still being more than a dozen yards away and below me. What if they reacted poorly?

  Would you rather Instinct tell them? Conscience asked. I don’t see her staying silent. She seemed rather determined that they should know.

  No, I’d really rather she didn’t, I replied, and took a deep breath.

  Sandstorm looked just about to prompt me with another question when I continued, “Do you remember that I told you that the humans did something to me?”

  “Something about making you sleep, yes,” Indomitable confirmed.

  “That wasn’t all that happened. I don’t know if it was because of the enchantment that kept me frozen in time, or because of who my grandfather might possibly have been, or something else. But, uh… there’s some human in me. A spirit. A soul, I suppose. It… blended together with my dragon soul and I… I’m both. I’m a mix. My soul is.”

  I finally realized that I was babbling. I shut up, looking at them expectantly, hoping that I wasn’t about to be doused in napalm or struck by lightning. In hindsight I asked myself if I should have made sure to send the humans back underground first. I really should have, I decided. It had been stupidly selfish not to. I’d wanted them there for support, but what if the two dragons turned on me? Mak and Herald might both be able to get away through speed and stealth, though I expected they’d fight to their very quick deaths no matter what I wanted. Mag, though? He wouldn’t stand a chance, and then it might not matter if Herald made it out. If losing me didn’t literally kill her the way she’d told me she thought it would, then losing both me and the man she loved all at once just might.

  Gods and Mercies, it had been unforgivably stupid of me not to send them to safety. And now it was too late. Sandstorm was gingerly climbing the rubble towards me, and I had nowhere to run.

  Determined not to flinch, I carefully herded the humans behind me and faced my cousin with my head held high. Her eyes were narrowed as she closed in, and not in amusement. I couldn’t read her intentions at all with the way she moved, occasionally slipping on a loose piece of masonry or looking down to search for better footing. I was not currently on fire, though, and I was sure that I was in range of that flaming liquid she’d sprayed underground. And she kept coming closer.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something that, at any other time, would have made me explode with questions. It was early, and the humans and I were facing the sun. So why, then, was there a distinctly draconic shadow creeping up beside me, crouched as though ready to fight? It wasn’t mine, that was for damn sure; Herald had messed with my shadow before, and I’d always been able to feel it, like someone pulling on a limb that wasn’t actually there. And it wasn’t as though someone had set up a spotlight behind me to illuminate some other dragon that had crept up on us. I was pretty sure that we’d all have noticed that. So that left two options, and one was a damn lot more likely than the other.

  But that would have to wait, because Sandstorm was right there, almost close enough to touch, and still with that oddly suspicious look in her eyes. I tensed myself to spring at her, if that was what it would come to, but the more I watched her the less convinced I was that it would. And then, after what must have been a full minute of laborious scrabbling, she was close enough that she could lean in and sniff me.

  I held still, letting her. She took her time with it, sniffing my face, my neck, and even my shoulders, though her perch wasn’t stable enough to stretch any further than that. She never acknowledged the shadow beside me, even when it moved closer to her. Then she declared, “You do not smell human, except where you smell like Herald,” and that, apparently, was good enough for her.

  As my cousin turned around and began an equally careful descent, Granduncle Indomitable gave off a long, deep huff. He’d settled down, waiting and watching as Sandstorm approached to inspect me. Now, when his eyes narrowed, it was with interest, yes, but also most certainly with amusement. “So, little Draka,” he said. “You believe yourself changed, is that it?”

  “Ah, yes, but also no?” I replied, still nervous, still perplexed by both the shadow and Sandstorm’s antics. “It is confusing even for me. I remember being human, and I remember thinking that I was a human in a dragon’s body. But I also remember being a whelp in my father’s lair, and being a dragon with a human ghost inside of me. And all the time I just felt like… me.”

  “That does not make things much clearer,” Indomitable said, still with that amused interest clear in his eyes.

  “Is that all you have to say?” I asked. “I’ve just told you that I’m half human. What kind of reaction is that?”

  His amusement only grew. “A measured one, I think. Would you rather have me rage? Reject you? Kill you?”

  I shrank back from him, shielding Herald with my body. “No. Obviously not.”

  “Obviously not,” he agreed. “But let me set your fears to rest. Tell me, grandniece: how does your power grow? In the human fashion, or like that of a dragon?”

  “Like a dragon,” I replied without hesitation.

  “Now, your flock, they are important to you, yes?”

  “They are.”

  “But tell me, would you sacrifice any part of your hoard for these precious humans of yours?”

  I scowled. For Herald or Mak… maybe. They were unimaginably precious to me, especially Herald, but my hoard… my hoard might as well be part of me. In any case, the answer could not be an unequivocal yes. “Don’t make me say it,” I grumbled. “Not in front of them.”

  “That will not be necessary. I have my answer. Then, if you were compelled to make a choice, would you say that you feel more like a human, or a dragon?”

  Again, I didn’t hesitate. I could spend days and days thinking about how much of me came from where, but if I had to choose one or the other? That was easy. “A dragon,” I told him again.

  “So you feel like a dragon. You look like one. Your cousin has just confirmed that you smell like one—and her nose is quite remarkable. All this being the case, we can confidently say that you are a dragon, and nothing else. Perhaps you are confused by your association with humans; perhaps you are unwell in some way. And perhaps it is just as you say, and a human soul has somehow entered you. That is certainly interesting, especially considering your circumstances, but I do not see that it makes you any less of a dragon. So tell me: why would this upset your mother so?”

  “Well…”

  I trailed off. They’d taken the first part, but this was different. And this might take the spotlight off me, putting it on the person I treasured most in this world. But then I felt a strong hand on my back, pressing in so that I’d feel it there, and Herald whispered, “Go on. You have come this far. May as well see it through.” And beside me the shadow closed in, touching my own, touching me, in silent support.

  I took a slow breath and continued. “That would be because when she tries to find me with her Kin Sense, she finds Herald.”

  “As she told me during our first meeting,” Indomitable reminded me. “She said that it felt as though her daughter was back with the humans.”

  “In a way, she was right,” I told them. “In one way, right now, Herald is her daughter as much as I am.”

  Indomitable’s multitude of spines, or quills, or whatever they should be called rustled as he sat up straight, eyes widening in surprise. It seemed I’d brought his interest to a whole new level.

  As for Sandstorm, she barked something in Draconic that I didn’t catch, her whole neck snapping around to look at me. Then she almost fell as turned around sharply on the unsteady side of the pile of rubble she was descending, and she was forced to scrabble to find her footing before she started climbing again. “How? Why?” she asked, remembering that I knew barely any Draconic. “She is human! She smells human! How can your mother feel her with Kin Sense?”

  Then Herald stepped out beside me. The dragon shadow stretched out before her, and through her Instinct said, “Because I, the soul who was born as the daughter of Sower of Embers, Reaper of Flames, have come unstuck and taken refuge in the Herald. It is… complicated.”

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