King's Dawn had come to Shadefall, and the town was the most alive any of the outsiders had ever seen. Every street was lined with vendor stalls, and crowded to the brim with people. Streamers and banners were draped over the streets and alleys, and paper decorations of dragons and crowns hung from just about everywhere.

In the days leading up to the holiday, List found herself in the always satisfying position of knowing something Arden didn't. Having two years of life in Xykesh to his paltry few months, she'd been the one to explain to the other two what all the fuss was about.

Celebrated in early fall, King's Dawn marked the anniversary of Digax's defeat of the last forces strong enough to oppose his conquest of Xykesh centuries ago, and was held every year to celebrate the king's strength, and Xykesh's good fortune to have him for a ruler.

Not that anyone actually bought into that, either now or centuries ago. But while Digax's Chosen had a degree of autonomy, none of them dared risk offending the Mad King by not hosting appropriate festivities. To everyone else, King's Dawn was less a celebration of Digax's rule, and more of a celebration that they were all still alive in spite of it. And, more to the point; everyone loved a good party.

In the past, List hadn't so much celebrated King's Dawn as liberally stolen from the various street vendors under the cover of extra packed streets, and she hadn't even done that much last year, when she'd been living in the fringes of the province.

This was her first real King's Dawn, with money, a roof over her head, and an actual friend to spend it with. And though she was trying to play it casually, her tail betrayed her excitement.

Back when Valerie had first known List, it might have struck her as odd to see the fiery hellborn this genuinely excited outside of a fight. But now, after two months of sharing a room at the Scaled Maiden and training together underneath Arden, Valerie had a much clearer picture of List.

Though she had the mind of a girl Valerie's age for the most part, List's amnesia meant she was starved for experiences. She only had two years of concrete memories, and those two years had been spent in constant struggle for survival. There was so much that, for all intents and purposes, she hadn't ever done. Of course she'd be this excited about getting to enjoy a holiday.

It was probably for the best that Arden had given them the day off training to enjoy the festivities. List wouldn't have shown up to training if he hadn't.

Arden himself was meeting with Samira Shen to discuss the Pavers, and their continued presence in the town. Though he'd been composed as ever when hearing Valerie's story about being attacked, he was dedicating more time and energy to addressing the aftermath than she'd seen him dedicate to anything except his research.

Valerie didn't mind Arden working like that during a holiday. That was his way. She only wished Kiva could have come with them, but the dragonblood girl was back at the cul de sac of the Scaled Maiden, serving drinks to the block party that had formed around the old tavern.

That left just her and List to see what King's Dawn in Shadefall had to offer.

List gravitated toward the food vendors first, and as Valerie tagged along, she found herself quietly taken aback at just how many different culture's foods were present in the streets. Before noon, they'd eaten a basket of fried tomatoes, two crepes (one savory, one sweet), a roasted lamb shank in date sauce, and a trio of samosas.

It was while they were splitting their last samosa that Valerie spotted a vendor that, instead of selling food, was selling swords and knives. Though he proclaimed (rather loudly whenever peacekeepers walked past) that the blades were for defense in the home and on the road, the craftsmanship was impressive. What was more, they seemed to conform to a dozen different styles.

She only meant to ask if they'd all been made by the same smith, but the vendor was so enthusiastic and energetic in his ensuing sales pitch that Valerie panicked under the social pressure, and ended up buying an Iandran cutting sword just to escape the situation. Less intimidated by talking to people but no less intrigued, List walked away with a trio of knives and a sheath for them she could wear on her thigh.

At a toy crossbow game, Valerie managed to hit fifteen bullseyes and walk away with the top prize, a stuffed toy dragon the size of a toddler. Down a different street, they each received paper crowns from a pair of gnomes riding around town on a tandem bicycle. And, at Valerie's suggestion, the two of them purchased a pair of matching leather bracelets to commemorate the day.

When they finally started to get a bit tired from all the walking, they came back to the Scaled Maiden, where they managed to catch Kiva on a break, and the three of them all sat down on a bench with tankards of honeyed beer, and talked about their day so far.

"Enjoying the festivities, then?" Arden's voice drew Valerie's attention from the girls' conversation.

"Dr. Siren." Valerie unconsciously straightened her posture as she greeted him, but relaxed when she saw the small smile on his face. "Yes. It's been great. How did things go with the headwoman?"

Arden's smile faded. "Less well than I'd hoped. Shen shares my concern about the Pavers' recent behavior, but is hesitant to take more drastic actions against them, given the town's limited means for defending itself."

The scholar shook his head. "Nothing to be done about it, for now. It is her town. She knows what's best for it better than I."

Valerie was about to ask if there was anything they could do anyway, when she was cut off by a bellowing voice.

"MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY FOR THE SOLDIERS OF THE KING!"

Then, the most unsettling thing Valerie had ever seen in Xykesh happened. As one, every single person on the main thoroughfare who heard the voice went rigid, and stepped back to the edges of the street.

Everyone except for her, Arden, and List.

The hellborn dragged a still stunned Valerie off to the side with everyone else, and Arden followed suit as the origin of the command marched toward them.

One of the black-armored elites of the Royal Army stood at the head of a procession of urks. A woman dressed in pillowy yet suggestive bard's attire followed closely at his heels, announcing the parade with an impressive set of lungs.

"People of Shadefall! From his own Lochmire garrison, your Lord Chosen presents the 5th Royal Regiment, and the testaments to their prowess to serve as spectacle for the Dragon's Dance!"

Valerie had heard about urks, the footsoldiers employed by Chosen in Lochmire and supposedly every other province, but this was her first time seeing them up close. From the descriptions List and Kiva had given her, she'd assumed they were just orcs, given a different name by the locals.

But seeing them now, she could tell that wasn't the case. They did look a lot like orcs—tall, well muscled, sharp, short tusks jutting from their lower jaws, skin tones ranging from gray to blue to green—but they were wrong. Big as they were, they were smaller than orcs she knew. Their skin was the sort of pallid she expected from a corpse.

And their movements. Whether they were fighters or makers, disciplined soldiers or wild barbarians, an orc's movements radiated strength. But for all their size, armor, and weapons, the urks' movements were hollow. If they weren't marching in unwavering perfect sync, Valerie would have thought they were sick.

The elite at the head of the procession called out in a booming voice, and as he did, his eyes flashed silvery white.

"CHEERS FOR THE LORD CHOSEN! CHEERS FOR KING DIGAX"

At the command, the entire street burst into cheering and shouts so loud they all but drowned out the bard's announcements that followed.

After the first column of urks came the floats. Platforms adorned in the dragon and crown iconography of King's Dawn, each one laden with people, and each one introduced by the bard in turn.

There was a squad of army elites on one, their helmets removed and tucked under their arms as they waved to the crowd. The elites, unlike the urks, were human, though a few had the telltale colorful skin tones or pointed ears of inhuman ancestries.

Another float bore brutal looking men and women in chains, though they gave no sign of struggle or intent to escape.

Still another bore what had to be a small company of a dozen freelancers, given their motley ensemble of different weapons and equipment.

And then, bringing up the rear of the floats, were the cages. One was full of goblins furiously throwing themselves at the bars, trying to squeeze and thrash their way out. Another held a quillbeast, the dagger sharp spines of its hide quivering as it paced in its prison. A third held something that stunned Valerie all over again, though for completely different reasons.

A werewolf.

Just like Darshan, it bore the same human-wolf hybrid shape to its body, but this one's fur was snow white. Rather than the shredded remains of old clothes, it wore bits and pieces of leather armor that fit its form just fine. And it was massive. Bigger than Darshan had been for certain, though by how much was hard to say from the way it was hunched in its cage.

And there was something else about the werewolf. Something Valerie missed, but Arden caught. A glint of a metal badge pinned to the leather strap wrapped across the beast's chest.

As the floats passed, and the rear guard of the 5th Royal Regiment followed after it, whatever hold the elite had over the crowds faded. The cheers died out almost immediately, and people quickly began to refill the streets, though the bustle and chatter had turned more to muttering now, and plenty of people were casting nervous glances in the direction the parade had gone.

Valerie was the first one to speak. "What was that?"

List shook her head. "Not totally sure. I've only ever seen it happen once, in a town outside Lochmire. The soldiers were looking for . . . something. Rebels, I think. One of them ordered everyone to come outside and stay by the doors to their homes until dismissed. And everyone just did. They all stood there while soldiers ransacked their homes. Except me. It was like I was the only one who still had a mind of my own. When the soldiers saw me moving, they ran me down and beat the shit out of me. Almost killed me, until one of them called them off."

"It's the King's Authority," Kiva supplied, her undulating voice bitter. Three heads turned to her in question. "Its some power Digax has. Anybody who hears a command from him has to obey, no matter what it is. He gives the same power to all his Chosen, and they can give it to their soldiers for a little while. It's why rebellions against Chosen almost never happen."

"Why didn't it affect us?" Valerie asked.

On reflection, she supposed she knew the answer even before Kiva said it out loud.

"Because it doesn't work on outsiders."

"Fascinating," Arden said, though his tone gave away he wasn't actually thinking about the King's Authority. "What exactly is the Dragon's Dance spectacle they mentioned?"

"How did you three not hear about that yet?" Kiva asked. "It's a bunch of spectator fights Shadefall hosts every King's Dawn. Celebration and display of the strength of the kingdom, or something. Honestly, my dad's pretty sure it was just the Pavers trying to get their pit fighting ring some official backing and prestige. But it worked. There's duels, monster fights, bare-knuckle matches. All the hits. The army always brings in some fighters, but we usually get plenty of people signing up independently too."

A small crackle of red lightning danced in List's eyes. "Wait. They're taking sign ups for people to fight those monsters? That werewolf?

Valerie felt a spike of panic in her chest. "List—"

"Give me some credit. I'm unhinged, not suicidal," List scoffed. "Still, someone's going to fight that thing. That's going to be insane."

"Yes," Arden agreed. In his mind's eye, he was still picturing the badge he'd caught sight of on the beast. He recognized that badge. "It certainly will be."