CHAPTER 92
DAKOTA
As far as forts go…well, this one’s a fort.
It’s hard to call it a “good” one because every fort is different.
It’s built up around what’s available, what’s safe to huddle inside.
This one is sprawled through an old series of squat office buildings and a nearby parking garage.
Homes straddle the narrow streets, and a field has been planted in what might have been a playground.
People make do with what they have, and everywhere, I can see structures set up to protect what’s been rebuilt.
There are tin roof shingles on everything to protect them from fire, coverings to unfurl over the crops at the first sign of dragonfire, and every home has a series of potted plants in front of it, because pots are easy to grab and pull inside, where it’s safe.
There’s a well in the center of the fort, built in the After and lined with concrete chunks instead of stonework, and it’s heavily guarded by men with rifles.
This, they’re not protecting from dragons, but from other people, because everyone depends on fresh water.
All it takes is one idiot to ruin things for everyone.
Overall, though, Fort Dallas is better than some of the other forts I’ve seen. I still don’t want to live here, mind you, but I can understand why Thess speaks positively of it. There’s safety in numbers, to a certain extent. Some people can’t manage on their own.
We head across the fort, towards a busy building.
Inside, there are lights strung up to a generator that’s just outside the door and covered in solar panels.
I smell hot food, and even though I ate not long ago, my stomach growls.
It smells like cornbread and beans, and the interior of the room looks like an old school cafeteria, complete with long folding tables.
There are people seated at most tables, everyone eating off trays with chipped bowls on them.
They glance at us as we enter, but no one pays too much attention.
A tall, lean black woman meets us as we head to the cafeteria line. She moves toward Vaan and gives him a quick kiss before smiling at Murr and myself. “I’m Gwen, Vaan’s mate. It’s nice to meet you. Thess was excited to have another friendly drakoni in the area.”
“Are there unfriendly drakoni?” I ask as Gwen grabs a pair of trays, handing one to me.
“No, but some are having a harder time remembering than others. The Rift’s effects are still being felt, even though it’s closed now.” Her expression turns sad. “We do what we can, but it’s not easy for everyone.”
Our trays are filled with a bean and vegetable soup and a square of cornbread, and my mouth waters.
We’ve been eating wonderfully thanks to Murr, but a different sort of food is more than welcome.
I spot green chunks and what looks like fresh tomato on the soup.
“There are so many vegetables here. I’m jealous. ”
“The gardens have doubled in size now that the fort is no longer under constant attack from dragons,” Gwen says. “Do you have gardens where you are?”
“Trying,” I confess. “It’s hard to start things when winter is on its way.”
Gwen leans over to me as we get cups of water to add to our trays. “I know absolutely nothing about plants myself, so it’s all a mystery to me.”
I’m not alone in that, at least.
The dragons pass up eating in the cafeteria, and so it’s just me and Gwen with full trays.
We sit down at an empty table and Vaan sits next to his mate while Murr sits beside me.
Thess sits on my other side, and I try not to shove food into my mouth like an absolute rube.
“So how did you meet Vaan?” I ask Gwen. “Was it here at this fort?”
“Oh no, I’m from Fort Shreveport,” she says, and launches into a long story of how she came to be a dragon’s mate.
She and Vaan met long before the Rift resolved itself, and they had a strong mental connection.
They came over to Fort Dallas to try and work with the Salorian leader and provide perspective from the drakoni point of view, and they ended up staying.
“It’s not perfect,” Gwen says, “but it gets better every day. And Azar’s not as bad as he used to be.
Being mated to Melina has really turned him around. He’s almost, dare I say, decent.”
Vaan huffs with amusement, as if the thought is a bizarre one.
At my side, Murr tenses every time the whole “Salorian” thing is mentioned. I don’t know too much about it, but I know from our discussions that Salorians were bad guys in their world. “Do we…need to meet this Salorian guy?”
“Oh, no,” Thess says, waving a hand and dismissing the idea. “You are day traders. He will not care that you are here.”
Good. I take a bite of cornbread and nearly moan aloud at how good it is. “Can we trade for this?”
“I am sure something can be arranged. Food is not as easily traded for, but you brought dried meat, yes? That is always welcomed.” Thess scans the room as we eat, as if looking for someone. “We will talk to the trading post later, I promise. What did you think of Jonah?”
“He seems like a nice kid,” I say, “but it’s not my dog. It’ll be up to Aggie to decide how she wants to move forward.”
Thess nods. “Once Dottie has seen Samir, we will bring them all to the cafeteria to eat. I wanted to chat with the two of you in private.”
My stomach clenches. “Oh?”
Thess keeps smiling, but I could swear I feel the mood in the room changing. “About you and your family possibly moving to the fort. Permanently.”
I knew there had to be a catch somewhere. I’m suddenly a lot less hungry.