The Legion of Flame (The Draconis Memoria #2)

by Anthony Ryan

This humble correspondent has heard her described as both “a soul of celestial grace and boundless generosity” and “a venomous, razor-taloned harpy whose back never met a mattress it didn’t like.” Whatever the truth, it is plain that, with her passing, Mandinorian society will be a much less interesting place.

Although every entity in the corporate world is bound by the accords regulating the education and employment of the Blood-blessed, the Dewsmine family, thanks to a good deal of expensive legal counsel and an inventive interpretation of Company Law, were able to secure an “exceptional release” from standard regulatory practice on the grounds that Catheline was of too “delicate a disposition” to cope with such a savage wrenching from the bosom of her family.

“How lovely you look,” he said, making her wonder if he might be taking some pleasure from her discomfort. “Thank you, Director,” she replied. “It has long been my ambition to attend an Imperial function in the guise of a bedraggled flamingo.” “Oh tosh,” he scoffed. “Though I would have chosen a darker shade of red.

one witness to the aftermath of the Shrivemill atrocity described to an Intelligencer correspondent “a tree, made up of bodies, all smashed up and twisted together . . .” At this point the witness became so distressed by their recollections they were obliged to disgorge their breakfast.

She lacked any stacks or paddles, the three masts telling of a ship built in the pre–Blood Age.

On reaching the Dockside my progress was impeded by a cordon of City Constabulary who were stringent in forbidding any closer approach. Fortunately, I espied a near by crane and duly made good my ascent to its topmost platform whereupon I found myself afforded a most excellent view of the dreadful spectacle below.