Steelhands - Jaida Jones [168]
I rubbed my hands over my eyes. My first thought was, At least there aren’t more of them, but I couldn’t deny that part of me almost wanted to see it. Maybe even have one of my own, like I really was lonely enough that I’d trade in the real deal for a toy version.
There was no bastion-damned way I was gonna be happy with it, though. I was just pissed because of how cockeyed the plan was—and also how I’d been left out of a system I’d once considered, however foolishly, mine.
“So what do you need me for?” I asked. “Sounds like you’re all set. Three dragons, three people, and a bunch of lackeys to spit and polish. Th’Esar’s brand-new Dragon Guard. You’re all set.”
“Well, we are currently working on a fourth,” Troius said shrewdly. And where was all this damn coin coming from? “But no, I can’t mislead you in all good conscience—were you to sign on with us, you wouldn’t be granted a dragon of your own. Of course, I trust you, but the Esar … Well, he’s his own matter entirely. He made certain provisions in order to avoid the mess that happened with your era. What we would like—what I would like—would be for you to join as an advisor. A mentor, really. Your experience is invaluable. No magician’s experiment can replicate that, no matter how hard they may try. You know the old guard in and out. In my opinion, from my studies, I believe that any Dragon Corps or Dragon Guard would be in need of its Chief Sergeant.”
“Chief Sergeants fight alongside their men,” I explained. He’d probably read about that part, too—or had he conveniently forgotten it?
“That wouldn’t be possible,” Troius replied, looking disappointed himself. “Unfortunately.”
“So, I’d be a mascot,” I said, rubbing at my jaw. I’d been clenching it so tight that it felt like iron. “Someone to ride in carriages at parades and let all of Thremedon know this ain’t just some upstart’s idea of throwing his predecessors to the dogs. That this has history; that all they have to do is take a look at the statue to know they can trust their good old hero.”
“I wouldn’t put it exactly like that,” Troius said. “I know it’s a lot to take in at once.”
“Yeah, and I need some time to think it over,” I replied, because it was what he’d been expecting. If Antoinette turned out to be right, then there was gonna be some kind of rescue headed our way, and I needed to be in my cell in order to get rescued.
Then again, knowing what I knew, I didn’t want anyone coming for us. I could only assume these new girls were weapons; those talons looked mighty sharp, and I could tell by Ironjaw’s stink that she was a fire-breather. Whether or not she was a smaller version than the one I was intimate with, I knew firsthand how dangerous she could be.
“Of course you need some time,” Troius said, looking mighty relieved. “I hope you won’t take it personally when I return you to your cell. Proper protocols must be observed, even in these times of upheaval. And you can’t imagine I’d be able to let you go free now after everything I’ve showed you.”
“Not at all,” I said.
Being thrown in a cell wasn’t something I’d chosen to take personally. But having everything I’d stood for resurrected, torn apart, and stitched back together like every nightmare I’d ever had after the war’d ended—that was a different story.
Still, I let Troius usher me out, real polite-like, stopping only to pat his dragon on the head like she was his pet cat. She looked after him, expression unreadable, but she met my eyes when I finally allowed myself to really look at her. I couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad, or even if she felt anything.
I didn’t look back again, but the image of her stuck in my mind like a well-aimed dart. It wasn’t until we’d made it back across the bridge that I realized what’d been bothering me about Ironjaw: All that time in the room, and she’d never said a word.
TWELVE
LAURE
Ex–Chief Sergeant Professor Adamo had been arrested, and I was starting to think it was a miracle we’d won the war at all considering how the rest of the Dragon Corps chose to respond. By doing