Page 130 of The Dragon and the Dove

Sera couldn’t tear her eyes off Ransom’s dragon, her spine tingling as Lark’s stirring chorus descended into terrified screams.

Caruso tossed aside his weapon. ‘Why am I always the villain, even when I switch sides?’

‘They need to retreat,’ said Sera with mounting urgency. ‘Why the hell aren’t they—’ Dread snatched the words from her as the dragon swooped, skimming the waters of the Verne.

The townsfolk fell to their knees and covered their heads.

Lark made a show of shaking his guitar at the sky.

‘Spare us, Saint of Nightmares! We beg your mercy!’

‘Theatrical bastard,’ said Caruso with a hint of amusement.

Val shoved him. ‘It’s not funny!’

No. It was clever. Anyone close enough to the Saint of Corpses could see the shit-eating smirk under that hat, but the people of Fantome were too busy running for their lives.

Anouk’s golems lumbered north, ripping up the street as they went. Taverns trembled. Shutters snapped, while smaller shopfronts buckled. The dragon banked, turning east and heading for the bannermen.

‘They’ve lost control,’ said Val. ‘We have to stop them.’

Sera was already running, tossing aside her crossbow as she made for the fire escape.

Val cried, ‘Wait for me!’

Caruso grabbed her by the waist. ‘Only one of you needs to risk her neck, kitten.’

Sera left her friend swinging at Caruso as she climbed down. Hopping the last three rungs, she hit the ground running. Fresh screams filled the air as she bolted over the cobbles.

Ransom was still on the bridge … within reach, even as his dragon flew on, sowing terror over the north quarter. She bolted towards him, so squarely set on the bridge that she missed the figure lunging from a nearby alley.

A body slammed into her ribcage.

Sera hit the ground with a hard slap. Bucking out instinctively, she jammed her foot into a kneecap, and heard an answering hiss of pain. ‘You little bitch.’

Lisette.

The Dagger rounded on her. ‘Should have worn your cloak, Maker,’ Lisette sneered, drawing her blade.

Scrabbling backwards, Sera reached for her own dagger. ‘Not dancing in your little parade then, Lisette? Two left feet, is it?’

‘I’ve always been better at killing.’

‘Especially when it’s one of your own.’

‘Ransom is the one who betrayed us,’ she snarled. ‘The Daggers have always allied with power.’

‘Is that what today is all about? Because it looks to me like one big shitty jig.’

Lisette’s red lips curled. ‘Too slow, farmgirl. Don’t you see? Today’s spectacle is all about you and those monstrous saints you love to make, your Saint of Nightmares chief among them.’ Canting her head she crooned, ‘Tell me, how do you save a city that fears you? How do you rule a kingdom that despises you?’

‘Why don’t you ask Andreas?’ spat Sera.

‘Andreas doesn’t need them to love him. He just needs them to hate you. And when that dragon is done tearing its way through an innocent parade, they will. Those poor villagers can’t even put up a fight. By the sound of those screams, I’d say the prince’s plan is working well enough. Wouldn’t you?’

‘So what’s in it for you, Lisette? Do you get to lick his boots at the end of every day?’

‘I get to do whatever the hell I want. As long as I kill you.’ Lisette lunged.