Chapter 4

Zyndar Jevlain Dharrow gripped the railing as the ship turned, knifing

through the gleaming waves of the Anchor Sea, and Korvann came into sight.

The war hadn’t touched these shores, and the capital was as he remembered it,

the whitewashed plaster walls, the red-clay tile roofs, and the four pillars to

the four founding dragons rising up from the winter, spring, summer, and fall

quarters of the city. The brown waters of the Jade River delta still marked

Korvann’s eastern border, with few attempting to build inland along the

waterway, not with the dense mangrove swamps rising along the muddy

shores for miles.

Claps, cheers, and shouts came from behind Jev as the ship sailed closer.

All he felt like doing was throwing up.

He rubbed his face. The feeling in his stomach wasn’t nerves, not exactly.

He didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d longed

for an end to the war for so long, it had become a habit, but he wasn’t sure

what he was coming home to. His crusty old father? The woman who hadn’t

waited?

Someone walked up from behind and thumped Jev on the shoulder. “Is the

city as wondrous a sight to you as it is to me, Captain?” the cheerful voice

asked.

Jev attempted to arrange his face into an expression of good cheer as

Second Lieutenant Targyon joined him at the rail.

“Korvann remains beautiful,” Jev said, hoping the young officer wouldn’t

notice that he didn’t quite answer the question.

Targyon, one of fallen King Abdor’s nephews, hadn’t earned a reputation

as a great warrior or dauntless leader during his two years at the front, but his

bookishness had lent itself toward craftiness. Despite the affable smile that

made him seem simple rather than shrewd, the twenty-two-year-old man

didn’t miss much.

“I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever again see a settlement that wasn’t full of death and booby traps. And I was only out there for two years. I can

only imagine what this moment must be like to you after ten. That’s almost

half my lifetime.” Targyon shook his head.

“Yes.” Jev lowered his voice when he added, more to himself than to his

young officer, “Long enough to grow jaded to death and fear and pain and to

almost forget one’s identity. But not quite long enough to forget… other

things.”

Targyon’s brow furrowed.

Jev forced a smile onto his face. “I’m looking forward to getting smashing

drunk and sleeping it off on the beach under one of those thatch umbrellas,”

he offered, both because that was what so many of the men had expressed

longing for and because it did sound appealing right now.

“That’s how you’ll celebrate? You won’t go home to see your father?

Your mother has passed, hasn’t she? You never mentioned if there was anyone

else.”

Jev locked that smile onto his face, though it wanted to drop off onto the

deck of the ship.

Naysha, her name floated into his mind. He’d thought he had gotten over

her, come to accept that she had moved on. It had been years now. But seeing

the city he’d visited so often in his youth and knowing he would soon ride

past the farms and vineyards of his family’s estate brought all the memories

back. Too many memories.

“No,” Jev said. “There’s no one else.”

Oh, he had cousins, aunts, and uncles aplenty, but they weren’t the ones

occupying his thoughts.

Since Targyon looked like he might pry, Jev hurried to add, “What will

you do, Lieutenant?”

“Go back to school and finish my classes. Become a professor of the

sciences, as I’d always planned. This…” Targyon extended a hand backward,

encompassing the hundred-odd men out on the deck, the soldiers who had

survived countless battles, fighting for a king who’d never been able to see

that the war was unwinnable. “This was a startling dose of reality and

something I’ll always remember, but I wasn’t a soldier two years ago when I

joined you in Taziira, and in my heart, I know I’m still not. I do appreciate

you letting me tag along, letting me get myself into trouble even.”

Targyon offered a lopsided grin, silently alluding to how few zyndar

captains had wanted the king’s scholarly nephew in their company. But he’d

fit in well with the intelligence-gathering Gryphon Company, and Jev had

never minded having him along. He hadn’t been a burden.

“You’re a soldier,” Jev said. “Don’t let anyone tell you differently. You

became a soldier the day you stopped hiding under the table in the mess hall

and started helping me ferret out the activities of the Taziir.”