Gillie tipped her head back and opened her eyes wide, taking in the wonders of the hiring fair. The chatter of the crowd and the songs of bards; the smells of fresh pastries and foreign spices; the dragon at the far end of field, wings wide as it clawed the heavens. Gillie had never seen a dragon before, and her heart beat faster at the sight.

“Stay close,” Mama said, squeezing Gillie’s hand as she pushed Gillie’s brother Barg ahead of them.

They walked past the soldiers by the road, a drachenritter riding a huge bear and five archers standing around him, protection against the war hosts Papa warned about.

“Stay close,” Mama said, letting go of Gillie so she could steer Barg towards the hiring rings.

Gillie sniffed at a soft, yellow fruit, then stepped back as a stallholder eyed her suspiciously.

“Stay close,” Mama said, peering at the trade banners above the rings.

At last, Gillie slipped away between the legs of the crowd.

She had seen wyverns, of course, soaring between the mountains above their farm. She had almost touched a gryphon once, on the road to Alvard, before Papa hurried her away. And the bear at the gate had been impressive, though its expression reminded her of the goats back home, which grumbled and kicked until she laid her hands on them and let calm flow into their minds. But she’d never seen a dragon, and she wasn’t going to miss her chance.

The good thing about being small was that you could get around without being noticed, whether that was in the woods or a crowd. The bad thing was the risk of getting knocked over by inattentive strangers. Even Barg did it sometimes, which seemed to be part of why he was going out to apprentice. Gillie didn’t really understand that part, and she didn’t much mind. Barg was no dragon.

It was hard to see her prize past so many tall people, like trying to see the mountaintop through the forest. Gillie wormed her way through the crowd, mostly unseen and occasionally protested at, until she emerged at the edge of the rope ring that dragon and rider stood in. The beast was saddled and a chain ran from its collar to the armoured drachenritter by its feet. It towered over the growing crowd with an expression that also reminded Gillie of the goats, the look they got when too many people came close.

The drachenritter was shouting about the wars, about fighting for home and for Father Earth, about terrible atrocities and brave adventures. He kept raising his voice and the noise of the crowd grew, like agitated sheep bleating over each other. That agitation spread to the dragon, which swung its tail and snapped at the air. The drachenritter was too busy speaking to notice, so Gillie stepped forward to help.

A hand gripped her shoulder.

“Stay close,” a man said. “If you go past the rope, that beast will gobble you down.”

Gillie tried to tell him why she had to get closer, but it was too late. The dragon wrenched its chain from the drachenritter’s hand and blew a sheet of flames. Its wings spread wide, knocking the drachenritter off his feet, and it stomped towards the crowd.

People screamed, which made the dragon more anxious. They ran, which gave it more targets to chase.

Gillie was scared, of course. She could tell from the choking beat of her heart and the way her fingers trembled. Papa had taught her how to know what she felt, like he’d taught her to plant corn and to talk to the minds of goats. Fear made her want to run, but she’d never seen a dragon before, and she might never see one again. So she planted her feet, held out her hand, and gazed up at the beast.

Just like adults, the dragon didn’t notice Gillie, too busy roaring and snapping at people’s heels. A shadow passed over her and leathery feet clawed the ground to either side. As its belly loomed over her head, she reached up, mouth wide with wonder, and touched those beautiful scales.

Frustration ran from the dragon down Gillie’s arm, through her body and into her head. She matched it to a feeling of her own, the frustration that came when her parents said she was too small for a task on the land, that it should be done by stupid, lumbering Barg. The dragon stopped moving, then twisted its neck around to look at what stood below.

Gillie smiled as she stared into those enormous, cat-like eyes, trying not to thinking about the bared teeth. Then she found another feeling, the satisfaction that came when she proved everyone wrong and did the work she was too small for. A smug calm followed, which she shared with the dragon, a gift from one mind to another.

The dragon closed its mouth, took a step sideways, and settled on the ground next Gillie.

“You’re brilliant,” Gillie said, running a hand along the dragon’s side. “I’m going to remember this feeling forever.”

“Gillie!” Mama ran across the field and swept her up, voice shrill and face red.

“Quiet, Mama, you’ll upset the dragon,” Gillie said, though Mama was probably too small for the dragon to care about.

The drachenritter approached, rubbing his shoulder. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the dragon, at the distantly cowering crowd, and finally at Gillie.

“You did this?” he asked.

Gillie nodded. “Papa taught me.”

“Stay close,” the drachenritter said to Mama. “We’ll talk about an apprenticeship.”

***

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In a mountain city where monsters go to die, Lena Sturm is hiding from her past. But when she discovers that she has executed an innocent woman, guilt drives her to seek out the real murderer. A mad alchemist, a zealous bishop, and a ruthless crime lord all become suspects as Lena investigates a mystery she’s been told to leave alone.

But Lena isn’t the only one with an interest in the crime. When an army arrives outside the city walls, using justice as an excuse for invasion, the need to find the truth becomes desperate. With dragon fire and cannon shot threatening Unteholz, can Lena save the city without sacrificing the cause of justice?

The Executioner’s Blade, a high fantasy murder mystery, out now from Northodox Press:

Paperback.

Ebook.

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