Several of the buildings in Izamal bore telltale pockmarks where bullets had struck their pastel-painted walls. Citizens scurried along the sidewalks, heads down to avoid making eye contact with the patrolling soldiers. In one jeep we passed, a cage in the back held a bird as big as a human, with a nasty-looking beak and lashing tail. I’d never seen a cockatrice before—it looked like an oversized rooster. Magically active, the bird could paralyze with a flick of its tail. I should have guessed that the Azzie troops would be making use of Awakened beings.