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  We seemed to have reached an impasse.

  “Jason, this is insane. You know the penalties for interfering with heralds,” said Ben. “We have nothing to do with this. Tell her to let us go. The queen’s peace—”

  “Shut up, messenger boy,” Nada cut in. “Micah, take these two away. Put them in separate rooms.”

  “And cut off those ridiculous cuffs,” Jason added. “Are we afraid of humans now?”

  Micah obeyed. As I rubbed the circulation back into my wrists a familiar ringtone, slightly muffled, broke the tense silence. My phone, in my handbag, which Micah had brought in from the car along with Ben’s first aid kit.

  “Get it,” Jason told the gunman.

  Without comment Micah passed the bag to Jason, who dug out the phone and checked the display. For a moment I thought he was going to let me take the call, as if we were partners again and answering my phone was something he did all the time.

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” said Nada. “Give me that!”

  She snatched the phone from his hand and ripped the battery out of the back, cutting the sound off mid-ring.

  “Get them out of here,” she snapped.

  Behind her, Jason still held my bag. Horror flashed across his face as he reached into it again, but by the time he looked up he’d got himself under control. He slipped something into the pocket of his jeans and dropped the bag on the nearest couch.

  His eyes met mine as Micah took my elbow to lead me away. Only one thing in there could cause such consternation. The mysterious black stone.

  He still watched me as I left the room, his expression unreadable.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The pack had tracked Luce to a dingy warehouse near the airport. Rain hammered the car roof as Garth drove through the industrial area. At this time of night the streets were deserted. Ugly grey buildings loomed out of the downpour as we passed, locked behind their steel mesh fences. Fast food wrappers and other junk swirled in the water running down the gutters. Lovely neighbourhood.

  I checked my watch as a jet roared overhead. Probably one of the last; it was nearly eleven, which meant the airport would soon close for the night. Though if the thunder rumbling in the distance got much closer the point would be moot.

  A couple of blocks from our destination Garth pulled in next to a heavily graffitied bus shelter. A man waited there, coat collar turned up against the weather, cap jammed down on his head: Trevor, the pack leader. The rain pelted down so hard he got drenched just getting into the car.

  “What a night.” He wiped his face; a pointless exercise. Water dripped off him all over the Merc’s leather seats.

  “The storm seems very localised.” I had to raise my voice to be heard over the rain and the rhythmic thud of the wipers.

  The clouds had gathered the closer we got to the airport. Thunder rumbled ominously, like a beast prowling closer.

  “That’s because she has an ala in there.” Trevor’s expression was sour.

  Ah. That made sense. The ale were demons of bad weather, often appearing as a black wind or a storm. We didn’t get many in Australia; they preferred their climate a little cooler, and getting them to forsake the ice and snow of the northern hemisphere took some doing, though they’d make an exception for a good cyclone now and then. I wondered where my sister had managed to find this one—or what she’d promised it to work for her.

  They liked to eat children, and our royal mother would not be impressed if that had been the inducement. She’d become ever more conservative as she aged, and didn’t like anything in her kingdom that might set the humans aflutter. She was paranoid about the shifter world being discovered, which in this internet age of mobile phones with their ever-present cameras seemed inevitable. A modern queen should have a disaster plan already in place. Modern technology was not some passing fad. We’d had a few close calls already. Fortunately the preference of most humans to dismiss as hoaxes anything they didn’t understand or wish to believe in worked in our favour.

  “I don’t know how we’re going to get around it,” Trevor said. “It’s perched up on the roof in raven form, above the doors. It can see the whole forecourt from there. There’s no way to sneak past.”

  Damn it. Trevor was not one to panic or give up easily—he would never have made pack leader if he were. His slight stature made him look weak, but challengers soon discovered the will of iron lurking beneath the mild exterior. Still, I had to find a way. If I couldn’t get Luce back I’d be the one looking weak. Quite apart from the embarrassment, the loss of my security chief would be a heavy blow.

  Damn Jason! Rage swept through me again. She’d trusted him—we both had—and had never suspected a trap. Why would we? He was supposed to be on our side.

  And now he was on Valeria’s, and this was his farewell present to me. How he must be laughing now, the bastard. He’d always said I was too trusting.

  “Any other doors?”

  The rain sheeted down the fogged-over car windows and drummed loudly on the roof. I watched it slice through the headlights’ beams and bounce back off the road as I considered my options.

  “There’s an office door, but it’s on the same side as the main door.”

  “What about windows?”

  He shook his head. “They’re all too high. Some broken ones around the back, but we’d need a ladder.”

  And the ala wouldn’t sit still while we climbed ladders.

  Garth twisted to join the conversation from the driver’s seat. “You know they’ll be expecting us.”

  “Of course.”

  Valeria wasn’t obvious enough to send a ransom note or a demand for a meeting, but she hadn’t made it hard for the wolves to find this place. It was all part of the proving, this game we played with our lives. I dare you, she said with her abandoned warehouse and her pet ala. Come and show me what you’ve got.

  Valeria had most of the local goblins on the payroll, so there could be golems in there, or just plain old mundane firepower. Goblins loved a good assault rifle. Or, considering the ala, there might be other surprises. Valeria must be feeling pretty smug right now. I wondered if she watched somewhere, waiting for the show to start.

  So I’d give her one.

  The problem was how. Wolves against guns, no doubt loaded with silver, was not a winning combination. This would be so much easier if I could take trueshape. Longing rippled through me at the thought of tearing goblins apart and feeding on their flesh. But shifters who defied the queen’s interdiction against taking trueshape where humans might see them had a nasty habit of turning up dead. Life was complicated enough without painting a target like that on my back. I needed a surprise.

  I eyed the soggy pack leader, who waited patiently for orders. A good man in a crisis. He was slim, about my height. He’d even worn a baseball cap to keep his hair dry.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  He shot me a startled look. “Sorry?”

  “Swap clothes with me. We’re about the same size.” I wore jeans and a dark green T-shirt, nothing overtly feminine, but his horrified expression suggested I’d asked him to put on a pink dress. “If anyone’s watching us—and we have to assume they are—they saw a man dressed like you get in the car. If that man gets out again, but the car drives to the warehouse, they’ll assume I’m still in it.”

  “Right.” He unbuttoned his shirt, still reluctant. Did he think he’d lose face with the pack? “And what will you really be doing?”

  I pulled off my T-shirt and started wriggling out of my jeans. Now I was glad for the ala’s storm and the foggy windows it produced. No one could see what we were up to. The confined space made the mechanics challenging, and we bumped heads a couple of times, but shifters are used to getting naked. His clothes smelled of wet dog.

  “I’ll be dealing with the ala. Give me twenty minutes, then get the pack to show themselves out front. Make it look as if you’re preparing to rush the place. That should hold its attention.”

  I tw
isted my ponytail into a coil and stuffed it under the cap, then clambered across my cross-dressing pack leader and opened the door. “You should wear green more often. It suits you.”

  His shirt clung to me, clammy and cold. I shivered as I stepped out into the rain. The car pulled away in a spray of water, its tyres swishing on the wet road.

  I strode off into the downpour away from the warehouse, shoulders hunched against the rain. It trickled down my neck and pelted against my back.

  Once I’d covered half a dozen blocks the rain eased. The streets were deserted—who’d venture out on such a night? No sign of anyone following. Perhaps switching clothes had done the trick.

  At a small overgrown park—little more than a vacant lot that boasted a rusty swing set—I pushed my way into the dripping bushes and hunkered down to wait, watching the street I’d just left. Best to be sure.

  Five minutes ticked by, then ten. Nothing moved. I scanned the sky, but saw nothing but rain. The clouds hung so low they touched the tops of the buildings. After twenty minutes I felt secure enough and peeled off Trevor’s wet clothes with relief. Drops of water plopped on to my bare skin and ran like cold fingers down my spine.

  Time to pull a rabbit out of the hat.

  As far as I knew, no one had ever attempted this before. Minor detail. No reason to be nervous. I drew a deep breath. No reason except that I had no fall-back plan, and time was ticking away for Luce, if she was even still alive.

  In theory it made perfect sense. Dragons were so much bigger than humans that when we took human form all that mass had to go somewhere else. Dragon-sized humans would find blending in something of a challenge. Fortunately we had the ability to channel the extra mass elsewhere. In theory there should be no reason that it all had to come back when we took trueshape. In theory, if I channelled even more of my human-sized mass away at the same time I sought trueshape, the result should be a miniature dragon.

  In practice? Time to find out.

  It had never been done before since no self-respecting dragon would choose to be the size of a cat. Massive size was part of the joy of trueshape. No other shifter approached it, and it served as a physical reminder of dragon superiority. But for Luce’s sake, I was prepared to throw self-respect out the window. Though perhaps huddling naked in the rain while a werewolf wore my clothes meant I’d already done that.

  If I was lucky, my small size and the ala’s convenient storm meant there would be no crazy photos appearing on the internet. I did not want to get into my mother’s bad books. If she decided to punish me by throwing her weight behind Valeria—or even Alicia, though that seemed unlikely—I wouldn’t stand a chance.

  I blew out a deep breath and opened myself to otherwhere. The wholeness of union beckoned; it felt like coming home. The urge to pull my essence back together and take trueshape was immense. My body trembled with the strain as I started pushing instead. It was harder than I’d expected: trueshape and human form were like moulds I poured myself between, firm and unchanging. Now I had to break the mould, if I could.

  I pushed harder and felt a trickle begin, reluctant at first, then gaining momentum. My self rushed away like a river in flood. What if I accidently sent my whole essence through the void? I clamped the connection shut in a sudden panic.

  When I opened my eyes the bushes loomed over me, grown huge and black. I was tiny, perhaps the size of a three-year-old, but still fully human. I clenched my pathetic little fists in frustration. The ala might die laughing when it saw me, but that was the best I could hope for.

  Doubt assailed me. Was I truly the first dragon in millennia to conceive of such an idea, or was that my pride talking? What if it had never been done before because it simply wasn’t possible?

  I stood—plenty of room under the bushes now! Trevor and the pack were waiting, and Luce needed me. No time for doubt. I began to channel again, more cautiously this time, holding the form of trueshape in my head all the while. This was where I needed to go. Here, and here, and yes! Like that! Gradually the warmth of change crept over me as my limbs found their new shapes, sinking into familiar forms. It was much slower than usual, but at last it felt right. I knew I’d done it before I opened my eyes.

  Success! I was a dragon, but no bigger than a cat. Tiny, perfect scales covered my body. I emerged from the bushes, which now towered over me, and extended my wings. How delicate they were. No thunderclap sounded as I leapt skyward; the leaves barely stirred in the tiny puff of air I displaced. Still, everything seemed to be working, though being so small made me uneasy. I wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable. Best get this over with. It was not a feeling I wished to prolong.

  Level with the rooftops, my form wavered. This size felt unnatural, and I had to fight to stop myself swelling to something more dignified. Being airborne called to the rest of my essence, which ached to join me in trueshape. Buffeted by gusts I wouldn’t even have noticed at full size, I circled a while, till I had myself under control again.

  I climbed into the clouds, grateful for the ala’s concealing storm, though I had to fight against the wind to gain height. The storm centred on the warehouse, and the blasts of wind grew stronger as I approached. If I were only a little larger this would be easier, but I didn’t dare try adjusting my size in mid-air. I barely had myself under control as it was. A full-size dragon suddenly appearing in the sky would be hard to miss, even on a night like this. At my current size, no one would think me anything but a bat.

  I spiralled down warily, my straining wings glad for the respite, and scanned the rooftop for the small black shape of the ala.

  There—right above the doors, as Trevor had said. Still in raven shape, though its feathers remained curiously unruffled by the wind that tore at me. Its beady eyes were fixed on the wolves prowling up and down outside the chain-link fence. The Merc was parked across the street, its windows dark.

  I folded my wings and dropped out of the storm like an avenging god. The raven looked up at the last minute, but too late for more than a squawk before I had it in my claws. I dug in deep and pulled. With a satisfying crunch, audible even over the pounding rain, the bird shape came apart. Feathers flew as the ala dissolved into mist.

  Too easy. I’d missed something.

  That something slammed into me a heartbeat later, and I went skidding across roof panels slick with rain. A second ala, an amorphous dark shape of roiling cloud, hurled lightning at me. I leapt from the roof with a yelp, hearing the sizzle of electricity behind me.

  Twisting in mid-air, I aimed a blast of fire at the ala. At this range the creature would be incinerated.

  Except I’d forgotten my tiny size. The pitiful lick of flame I produced made a cigarette lighter look good. I twisted out of the way as the ala lunged after me, morphing into a new shape: cloud warrior, complete with sword.

  The figure was wispy and indistinct, but the sword looked sharp. Would my tiny scales armour me as well as they did at full size? At least my size made me agile. I dodged a sweep of the sword and snapped at the creature’s head. Best not to put it to the test.

  The sword darted out again. Sparks flew as it scraped down my shoulder. I tumbled away from the blow, numbness spreading from shoulder to wing. The air thrummed with power; the scent of ozone strong on the wind. The ala surged after me as I struggled to regain height, narrowly avoiding another stinging blow.

  I darted away into the complex, dropping below roof level as I dodged between buildings. A chill of fear stole through me. At this size I was no match for the storm creature.

  It roared after me, buffeting me with its icy wind. Squalls of rain spattered the buildings like gunshots. My right wing throbbed, but I was still faster, careering desperately between the dark buildings. Trueshape screamed for release, but I clamped down on it. Just a little longer.

  I slammed around the corner of the last building in the complex, tucked away at the back of the lot, and turned to face my pursuer. The ground trembled as I reached at last for my essence. Trailing stre
amers of ice, the ala rounded the corner, sword upraised in triumph—and found a full-sized dragon waiting in the dark.

  It hardly had time to register the shock before I blasted it with fire. The sword tumbled to the ground as the night lit up with flame. It lay there, the blade glowing softly red, as the storm abruptly disintegrated and tiny flecks of ash drifted down.

  God, but that felt good.

  With a sigh I forced my essence away and felt my body dwindling again. Cat-sized once more, I launched myself into the air and flew back to the front warehouse the two ale had been guarding. From its roof I checked the forecourt. Nothing moved among the parked trucks and forklifts. The only movement came from the wolves, still pacing the fence line, being careful not to look at me. I wondered if they’d seen the burst of flame light up the night. Hopefully no hostile eyes had noted the death of the warehouse’s guardians.

  Satisfied nothing had changed, I darted from the roof. The back of the warehouse was covered in scrawls of graffiti—bright looping tags and a black skull and crossbones. The windows were high off the ground, too high for the graffiti artists to reach, and a couple were broken, as Trevor had said, their edges like jagged teeth. I chose the one with the biggest hole and landed on the window ledge.

  Inside was dark, but low light was no problem for dragon eyes, and I could see Luce slumped against one wall in chains. Down at the other end of the vast empty space, a phalanx of goblins faced the big warehouse doors. They stirred uneasily and muttered in the sibilant goblin tongue, probably alarmed by the sudden cessation of the storm. Between them they had enough assault rifles to mow down a small army.

  The set-up could hardly suit me better. If only Jason were with the goblins, it would be perfect. A fierce joy rose inside me as I crouched on the ledge and contemplated my next move.

  I launched myself through the window and pulled. Releasing my tight self-control felt like a dam breaking: truesize rushed back to me so fast my tail smashed half the windows from their frames. Glass rained down on the astonished goblins as a full-sized dragon materialised inside the warehouse with them, but they would never inform on me. I belched forth flame and incinerated the lot of them where they stood. The screaming had hardly even started.