Spiritwalker 3: Cold Steel Read Free Page A

time the first customers had begun to arrive. They greeted me with genuine pleasure,
     for even though I was a
maku
—a foreigner—in Expedition, folk here did appreciate my willingness to speak my mind.
     Better yet, they laughedat my jokes. The easy way people conversed pleased me, and no one thought it at all
     remarkable that a young woman had opinions about the great matters of the day.
    “I certainly hope the new Assembly will not allow the Taino representatives to bully
     them on this matter of a new treaty,” I said to a table of elderly regulars.
    “Hard not to feel bullied when a fleet of Taino airships sit on the border chaperoned
     by an army of soldiers who have already marched once through Expedition’s streets,”
     said Uncle Joe from the bar. “Peradventure without yee intervention on Hallows’ Night,
     Cat, we in Expedition would have had to bow before a Taino governor instead of setting
     up this new Assembly. If yee had not done what report say yee did do.”
    I dodged past the lad who with pole and ladder was lighting the courtyard’s gas lamps.
     With a shake of my head, I set a tray of empty mugs on the bar as I made a grimace
     at Uncle Joe. After the dream I had just had, I did not want anyone to begin reflecting
     on the part I had played in halting the Taino invasion of Expedition Territory. He
     nodded to show he understood, then turned to draw a pitcher of ale from a barrel to
     refill the mugs.
    Between one breath and the next, the lively rattle of conversation ceased. The courtyard
     fell silent. I had my back to the gate. As Uncle Joe turned with the full pitcher,
     glancing past me, his gaze widened. He reached under the counter and set his machete
     next to my tray.
    He had done the same in my dream, only my sword was looped to a cord around my hips.
     The blade of his machete caught a glimmer of gaslight that carved a shimmering line
     along its length.
    I swung around.
    Prince Caonabo stood in the open gate, surrounded by attendants and soldiers.
    Just as he had in my dream.

2
    All eyes—and it was crowded tonight—shifted from the newcomers to me, and back to
     the prince’s retinue. Aunty Djeneba had been cooking cassava bread on a griddle in
     the open-air kitchen. She stepped back from the hearth to examine the interlopers.
     As the thin bread began to crisp, I could not rip my gaze from its blackening edges.
     The smell of its burning seemed to come right out of the dream I’d had, the way fire
     had caught in my flesh. Had Prince Caonabo come to kill me?
    Was this what it meant to walk the dreams of dragons? Had I dreamed the dream meant
     for Bee because we were holding hands as we napped and her dreams had bled into mine?
     Or had I simply been waiting for this meeting, knowing the Taino would not let the
     death of their queen pass without a response?
    Aunty realized the bread was burning, flipped the flat round onto the dirt, and gestured
     for one of her granddaughters to take over. After wiping her hands on her apron, she
     walked to the gate. She looked majestic with her hair covered in a vividly orange
     head wrap. Her height, stout build, and confident manner made her a formidable presence.
    “Prince Caonabo,” she said, not that she had ever met him before, but there could
     only be one Taino prince in the city of Expedition. “To see one such as yee here at
     me gate is truly unexpected.”
    One of the prince’s attendants answered in his stead, for like any lofty nobleman,
     Caonabo did not need to speak for himself. “His Good Highness has come to this establishment
     to find a witch.”
    Most of our customers looked at me. I dressed in the local style so as not to draw
     attention to myself, but the days when I could hope tobe just another maku girl making a living after being washed ashore in Expedition
     were irrevocably over.
    Aunty stiffened. “We shelter no witch in me respectable house, nor have we ever, I
     shall thank yee to know. Nor need we