Whether the Tanaffi militia cared about the plight of their townsfolk or not, Janu couldn’t tell. All that mattered was that they had passed on their news and got involved without following Fraidun’s idea of involvement. And that they had finally been able to get to the inn, a good meal, and a good night’s sleep.

In the morning, Janu and Galnai went in search of a good mule and some sturdy panniers for the coins and any other supplies. Fraidun had stayed in his room, either making up for lost sleep or sulking about the fate of the village children. To Janu’s dismay, they could only find a donkey with a passion for biting hands, but it was better than nothing. It seemed docile enough with Galnai, so he let her deal with it.

They spent the rest of that day resting, once they had stocked up on supplies. Janu bought the greasiest pastry he could find from the street vendors and sat down overlooking the fountain at the bottom of the temple steps. A small group of children were playing in it, carefree and ignorant of the priest shouting and waving his cane from the top of the steps. Janu wondered when – or if – the empire would send its soldiers and officials here to find children to 'educate'. Or did they only pick on the ones fewer would notice? The rural and the poor. What would become of the ones they had taken today?

There wasn't anything he could have done about it. Janu told himself that, but it didn't quell the uneasy feeling in his gut.

Logically, the prince should care. Those boys would one day be of an age that they could be raised for military service. If the empire kept them past that age, the principality would lose out on good troops. They might never return, if they found good employment elsewhere in the empire, or if the empire forced them to serve in their own armies. Perhaps that was the point. Perhaps it was as simple as the empire wanting to drain the princes' troops until the warring stopped. Perhaps.

In any case, he didn't get paid to ponder politics.

The next day, Fraidun emerged from his room, but said little, and they departed via the northeast road. Journeying back to their home in Athon would have been a lengthy affair had it not been for the river than ran from near the Narathin border through the Principality of Avesh and the original kingdom's capital. It took them four days to reach a part of the river wide enough for barges. Paying for passage on one ferried them near twice that distance in just over a day, and from there they had access to the great port on the Bay of Kolkus.

Janu drank in the scent and sight of the sea. It felt like home – not the home of his childhood, but home nonetheless.

Another day and a half's voyage saw them safely among the narrow shanties of Athon's portside district. They took their time ambling up the winding streets towards the central district, marketplace hubbub becoming more akin to a roar with each step closer. Only when they had passed through the silk market and the flower market did they stop – right beneath the sign of The Siren Tree Inn. The windows of its three storeys blazed with light and hummed with laughter, the shutters thrown wide to let in the cool evening air, making the most of spring before it turned to summer.

As ever, they took a private room on the first floor and ordered the finest wine and sweets.

It paid to be a dragon thief.

'—should have seen the look on his face,' Fraidun was saying as he waited for Galnai to throw her dice. 'Thought it was a real egg, right up until the rest of his troop walked over and his commander told him it was a rock.'

Galnai snorted, more at the result of her roll than the tale, and moved her counter around the board, taking out one of Fraidun's pieces. 'I wish I could have seen the Alarams' faces when they found out the barrel was empty.'

Janu raised his cup. 'I'm still amazed you pulled it off.'

She narrowed her eyes. 'It was your idea!'

'And it worked. How amazing am I?' Janu grinned, then slapped his pile of coins – weighted by the sale of the mule. 'So what are you spending yours on?'

'Food, drink.' The words came out choppy in Galnai's thick accent. 'Retirement fund. The usual.'

Fraidun made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. With enough wine in him, he could be quite chatty, and even normally he spoke more than Galnai, but he never opened up on the subject of money. The way he doted on his prayer beads sometimes, perhaps he was the sort of pious to give it all away and live on a pittance. Janu had never found out.

'Well isn't that all boring? So financially sensible. Where's the fun in that?'

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Fraidun conceded defeat, refilled his cup then raised his eyebrow at Janu. 'You can talk. Just funnelling it into your house fund each time.'

'One day the bastard'll sell.'

'Sure he will. And one day the empress will sprout wings.'

'He'll sell.' Every man had a price. So what if his landlord's kept going up? One day the offer would be too tempting. 'Maybe even this week.'

Galnai stared at him, the hint of a smirk twisting her lips. 'Well, if you're feeling that lucky, how about a game to finish up the night?'

With a dramatic sigh, Janu checked how much wine they had left and acquiesced, wondering which would prove more fickle – the dice or his landlord.

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By the time the wine in the shared pitcher ran out, night had fallen. Galnai and Fraidun went their separate ways not long after. Janu had further to go to get home, but he sat nursing his drink alone, listening to the muted chatter of the rest of the inn, pondering what the new day might break. After he bought the house out, what next? He wouldn't have much left afterwards, so he would still need to do the odd heist or two, but he could certainly take it easier.

He had just tilted back his cup to get to the dregs of the wine when someone knocked on the door. Startled, he swallowed half of it the wrong way.

When he had finished spluttering, Janu asked, 'Who is it?'

'A client.' It was a man's voice, and he couldn't place the accent. 'Or a potential client. The innkeeper said I could speak to one of you now.'

Janu sighed. He would have to have words with the innkeeper. Words like 'business hours' and 'waiting until it would be more likely one of them was sober'. Still, the woman was a valuable go-between. He couldn't often fault her for it.

'Come in, then,' he said, and readied his dagger in case of surprises.

The door swung open and a tall man stepped in. His face explained his accent – as pale as Galnai's, with eyes as round and brown hair light enough that it passed for bronze in the lamplight. It haloed his head in a ring of curls. He sported a trimmed moustache and wore a wool cloak stamped with bright patterns.

'You're from Khunuchan,' Janu said.

Smiling, the man hovered in the doorway for a moment before taking a seat and tucking his hands between his knees. 'We make finer distinctions than that, but yes, you have the right continent.'

Galnai had never been more specific than Khunuchan, but then she had never told them anything of her past beyond that. As far as Janu was aware, it was all one country, ruled by one prince. Maybe it was another principality situation.

'We've never had clients from Khunuchan. You understand what we do, right?'

'You steal dragons.' Now that the man was seated, his cloak had slipped open. He wasn't wearing armour, only a yellow tunic and baggy trousers fastened at the calf with leg wraps, but he did have a dagger on his belt. Not too unusual, but not too comforting, either.

'Eggs, mostly.' Janu realised he had been staring at the dagger and brought his gaze snapping back up. Damn that wine. 'We can do dragons, but they're more of a pain to transport and harder to bond afterwards, if a bond doesn't already exist.' Breaking the bond meant killing the bonded human, and no one could pay him enough for that. 'And you would need to be well prepared to ship an egg from here to Khunuchan. You wouldn't want it to hatch aboard ship. You would have to, ideally, seek out an egg you knew had been laid only recently. Even then that would be no guarantee. Your ships and sailors would need to be equipped to handle a hatchling.'

The man had nodded along throughout Janu's speech, but the moment he was done he shook his head. 'Don't worry yourself. No one's sailing anywhere. This isn't a contract for anyone in Khunuchan.'

'Really?' Judging by the man's clothes, Janu had guessed he was quite well off, maybe even sent by the prince himself. Princes were all after dragons these days.

The man shrugged. 'I've heard the empire's already planned to ship a few eggs over soon. Some trade agreement. They don't need anything stealing when they can go through official channels.'

Janu had heard the same. 'So what is it?' He didn't need to know who it was for. He never asked. In rare cases like with the principality, he might be told anyway.

'It's a hatchling we need you to steal. Or rather, it will have hatched by the time you come to steal it.'

'Can we not move sooner?'

The man shook his head. 'The egg is being held for hatching in the fort at Kurentim, at the foot of the mountains. I doubt you would want to break in there. It's heavily guarded, with two dragons on constant watch. Unless you are so exceptionally skilled that it defies belief, it's best to snatch it away when they move the hatchling.'

Janu had heard of Kurentim. Anyone in his line of work had. It was the first stop eggs made once the empire had taken them from their nests, their staging point for transporting them further. He had stolen many eggs coming from Kurentim – and so he was partly the reason they had stopped moving them further. All imperial dragons hatched in that fort.

'That's a fair reason,' Janu said, 'and something we can do, for the right price. But we don't kill people. If you want the bond broken, you'll have to deal with that yourself.'

This time the man smiled. 'It's actually good you say that. We need the bond intact. We need both the dragon and the human.'

'Kidnap, then. What are you planning to do to them?' The words came out a little snappier than Janu had intended, but the longer this conversation went on, the less he liked of it.

The man shifted in his seat. 'We want to examine how the bond works.'

'Torture, then? Experimentation?'

'Nothing like that. Just a live human bonded to a live dragon. Both will be well taken care of.'

Narrowing his eyes, Janu examined the man across from him. His face was quite readable compared to Galnai's, but it could be a good ruse. If not, he didn't appear to be lying. If they could examine the bond, that would be valuable – no one had properly managed to replicate the empire's process. The results of a weak bond could be messy, embarrassing and expensive.

'Do you even know who it's being bonded to?' Janu asked.

A sheepish grimace passed over the man's face. 'The youngest daughter of the empress. Princess Popilia Phoca.'