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wife’s arms, having lived to a ripe old age?”
    The crew of the
Bastian Empress
tossed their weapons onto the slanting deck, blades and spears clattering as they slid along the shaking timbers and vanished overboard. “You cowards!” screamed Scorpio, his eyes bulging as his throat and chest ballooned, the puckered flesh shimmering yellow. The skin of his face flashed violet and purple as spittle flew from his spluttering lips. “You filthy, rotten cowards! You’ll all die for this!”
    The deadly quills of the Scorpionfish stood proud over his entire torso now, rising around his head like a poisonous crown of thorns. He set off aftward, making good his escape. Vega and Drew moved quickly, each bounding up the steps after him, but the Werefish had a step on them, and would be into the sea in moments.
    Jumping up onto the prow rail of the
Bastian Empress,
Scorpio glanced back, unable to resist bellowing one last bold threat of revenge.
    â€œI’ll kill you all!”
    He turned, preparing to dive, just in time to feel the flat of a shortsword strike him hard and clean across the face. Scorpio toppled backward, crashing onto the foredeck of his own sinking ship, quills embedded in the twisted timber boards, pinning him in place. He blinked, stunned, his face smeared with his own blood as he tried to focus on the figure that hung in the air off the bow of the
Bastian Empress.
    â€œ
Good work, Casper,” said Drew, winking to the young Hawk as he hovered there, sword in hand.
    Vega poked the floundering Werefish in the belly with his foot before crouching over the sea marshal.
    â€œThe good-bye speech?” He balled his gray, clawed hand and weighed it in the air as Scorpio blinked blearily at him. “A bad idea in hindsight, eh?”
    The Sharklord’s fist descended, sending the Scorpionfish into a deeper, far more troubled sleep than he had ever known.

6
    B OWED B EFORE THE G ATES OF A ZRA
    FOR LADY HAYFA, the Mistress of Ro-Shan, it had been a day of glorious executions.
    The city of Azra, once proudly proclaimed the Jewel of Omir, was now a monument to death. The local saying went that so long as Azra’s walls stood, the city belonged to the Jackals. That adage had proved true to a fault. Initially the Azrans had shown resilience and fortitude in the face of their enemy, with the assistance of the Hawklords of the Barebones. But all was not well in the north. With the help of the Catlords of Bast, Bana had been attacked by Lady Hayfa’s allies, the Doglords, demanding the immediate attention of King Faisal. Directing the majority of the avian lords north along with his greatest Jackal warriors to reclaim the Gap, he remained on his throne with only a handful of Omiri noblemen for company.
    The Jackal’s city had survived the bleak, frozen months, but on the final day of winter, the Dog’s and Hyena’s forces had encircled the city like a hangman’s noose. Lady Hayfa had directed the bulk of her army against Azra’s southern walls, while Lord Canan’s warriors besieged the northern defenses. Cut off from the outside world, unable to contact their comrades in Bana, the people of Azra were worn down by the brutal force beyond their walls. Come summer, Bastian cannons had rolled into the dunes beyond the city, unleashing a stunning barrage of blasting powder against Azra’s walls and into her weary heart. The body count had been horrendous, and King Faisal was at last convinced to surrender for the sake of his people. A deal was struck: no more blood was to be spilled within Azra. Hayfa accepted the terms. The fabled walls had fallen, and the city now belonged to the Hyena.
    Hayfa was true to her word. No more blood was spilled within Azra. But beyond the walls, Hayfa celebrated her triumph in high style. There were no scaffolds, no executioners’ blocks, no grand speeches for the enemies of the Hyena. One after another, the soldiers and