The beast dropped its head.
One moment it was lunging, jaws wide, claws scraping furrows in the frozen earth. The next moment it was sitting. Its tail thumped against the ground once. Twice. A dog waiting for a treat.
Iftaya let her chains go slack. The iron links rattled against her hips.
The handler stepped forward. A thin man with grey hair and a face that had been burned on one side. The scar tissue pulled at his mouth, gave him a permanent sneer. He did not look at them. He looked at the beast, he raised his hand.
"Stay," he said.
The beast stayed.
Its chest heaved. Saliva dripped from its jaws, but it did not move. Its eyes tracked the handler. Its ears swiveled toward his voice. The thing had been a monster ten seconds ago.
In the border forts. There are handlers who bred the beasts for obedience. Most bread social beasts It was the first time they had seen a worm like beast as a pet.
