The woman stepped forward, looming over my chair. Something feral glittered in her dark eyes, and for a moment, the pupils almost appeared green. “So, talk, mortal,” she commanded, as with a jolt, I realized what she was. “I don’t have time for games, and recently I’ve been a little short on patience. I really would prefer to be civil, but if you do not cooperate, I will reluctantly have it done the hard way.”

“I... Are you from Talon?” I asked instead, and she frowned.

“No.” For some reason, the very thought seemed to disgust her. Her lips curled in an expression of loathing that could not be faked. “I am not. Nor will I ever be part of that cursed organization.”

“But...you are a dragon.”

She sighed, and I caught a hint of smoke on her breath, though it was different, somehow. Almost spicy, like incense. “I do loathe that word,” she murmured, more to herself than to me. “So clunky and inelegant. It lumps us all into one basket, assumes that we are all one and the same.” She scowled at me. “Yes, mortal,” she said bluntly. “I am, as you say, a dragon. In my language, I am known as a shen-lung, though I don’t expect you to remember that. Continue to call me dragon, if you like, but you will talk and you will tell me about Talon and what they are doing here.”

An Eastern dragon. For a moment, I could only stare in wonder. We—St. George—knew so little of them. I had never even seen an Eastern dragon before, though I knew they existed. Unlike their Western counterparts, the dragons of the Orient were far more reclusive and difficult to track down. In the Order, not much was known about them, though it was assumed they were still part of Talon, as all dragons were.

I knew better, now. And if this woman, this shen-lung, despised Talon as much as she appeared to, maybe I could turn this to my advantage. If I could get her to trust me.

“I’m not from Talon,” I said.

She was clearly unconvinced. “Don’t make this hard on yourself,” she said, though her voice wasn’t threatening or ominous, it was just weary. “I truly do not wish to hurt you, especially one so young, but I will have answers. You were clearly following the leader of the Order. Spying on him, as we were. No one from St. George would do such a thing—the only one to benefit from such activities would be Talon. So please.” She made a vague gesture with a hand, and the two men flanking me closed in, resting corded hands on my shoulders. I felt the strength in their fingers as they squeezed; my bones started to bend from the pressure. “Dispense with the lies. Talon cannot protect you now. I will ask once more. Who are you, and why are you here?”

“I am not working for Talon,” I said again, keeping my voice steady through the growing pain. “And you can have your thugs hit me, break my arms, whatever—I’ll still give you the same answer. I can’t tell you anything about Talon, because I’m not from the organization.”

“Then who are you working for?” the woman asked in an overly patient tone. “You know far too much to be an ordinary human. What is your interest in the Patriarch? Who are you, exactly?” When I didn’t answer, the dragon’s voice became lethally soft. “If you want me to start believing you, mortal, this is your last chance.”

I clenched my jaw. If I told her who I really was, what I really was, she might kill me, anyway. I didn’t know what Eastern dragons thought of the Order, but I could assume they knew who we were and what we did. St. George was the enemy of all dragons, and Talon would show me no mercy. Would their Eastern counterparts do the same?

I hesitated a moment longer, then decided to take the gamble. Even though I knew it was risky and she might immediately have her thugs snap my neck if she knew the truth. But I was out of options and in desperate need of allies. If I could convince this dragon we were on the same side, maybe we could help each other. If she didn’t decide to kill me on principle.

“I know about Talon and the Patriarch,” I said carefully, feeling my heartbeat pick up, “because...I was part of the Order. I was once a soldier of St. George.”

Both men straightened, and the dragon drew back, narrowing her eyes. “This is a lie,” she stated, her voice hard. “Soldiers of St. George never leave the Order. You are lying again—”

“I’m not,” I insisted.

“You must be.” She glared down, anger and hatred glittering from her previously calm expression. “If you know about Talon and the Order, you know what St. George does to us.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “I know. If I’m lying, why would I tell you I’ve taken part in slaughtering your kind?” She had no answer for that, watching me with hard black eyes. “I was a soldier of the Order,” I said again. “If you want the truth, there it is.”