《Five of Stones (Books of Erd #1)》


 |Prologue| Casting Stones

    <hr>

    100 Years Ago

    The alpine air stung of rotting corpse and fresh dirt. Alder huffed the acrid stench from his scaly nostrils and heaved a boulder down the rubble-covered slope to the collapsed city below.

    Civil uprising killed the thriving Dwarven city of Dorrak just days ago. The festive streets teeming with merchants, builders, and crafters from all races now laid buried under feet of rubble. Gurn''s rebels took the men, but the landslide was sudden and left over half of the population crushed or buried alive. Those fortunate to be rescued now faced relocation into the western human territories.

    Alder, the High Scholar and liaison of the Sylvani dragon clan, led the rescue and relocation effort after Gurn''s defeat. But even with help from all five races, plans were still being finalized.

    "Oi! Alder!" A gruff voice called from above.

    Alder craned his serpentine neck from the cave as his two comrades descended to the ledge atop Senkar, a red-and-russet Kiithran and long-time friend of Alder''s.

    "Glad to see you all made it here safely!" Alder said as he approached the trio, lowering his mottled green head in greeting.

    "Safely my ass!" The stocky Nord''s knuckles were gray from clinging to Senkar''s feathered mane, and his snow-white hair a mass of poof atop his wide head. "Do you know how bad the winds are up here?" He patted his forehead, swearing that the fright added more wrinkles to his already prominent and deeply-lined brow.

    "No, not at all," Alder mused, ruffling his membranous wings that were barely large enough to glide. "But I didn''t think that could rattle you, Dom."

    Dom grumbled obscenities and scrambled to dislodge himself from between Senkar''s neck and his much taller Talian riding partner.

    Celetaer, the fair and slender Tal, chuckled at Dom''s disarray. His short flailing legs reminding him of a squirming child which only matched the grown Nord''s temperment, "Not sure if it was just the heights, or because his feet couldn''t reach the stirrups."

    "Which, by the way, I am never wearing again," Senkar huffed most adamantly, "They are far too wide and chafe my underwings." Despite their elk-like build, Kiithran rarely took well to being ridden like beasts of burden.

    "Well, excuse me for attempting not to fall." Celetaer chided, maneuvering Dom''s leg around Senkar''s neck and causing him to drop to the ground with a heavy thud.

    "Where''s Nimbaba?" asked Alder, helping Dom to his feet.

    "Still tending the Medic Tent. Should we wait for her?"

    "No, I can meet with her later." Alder''s bright eyes turned grim as he returned to the cave. "We must discuss this now before you depart home."

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    A solemn wave washed over the trio and an exchange of tense glances ended their humorous interlude. Senkar lent an arching horn for Celetaer to dismount, the whoosh of his blue, Talian silk cloak breaking the silence.

    Alder led them into the crumbling remains of Dorgan''s Keep. As they passed through the once grand hall entrance, all eyes locked onto the scar above the outer archway left by Gurn''s fatal blow.

    "It''s like it''s mocking us." Senkar hushed.

    Celetaer forced his eyes forward and Dom wrinkled his sunken nose and spat at the shattered stone.

    Past the excavated entryway there was less damage. The ceiling and statues lining the walls took the brunt of the cave in. Dwarven architecture--especially the vast halls which spread miles beneath mountain ranges--was well known for its stability and intricate carvings. Dorgan''s Keep was no exception.

    "Aye, this isn''t so bad!" Dom chimed, analyzing a pillar. "Still pretty sturdy."

    "Tell that to the bodies we pulled from here," Celetaer said low, climbing over ceiling fragments. "We still don''t know if we got them all."

    Ahead of them, Alder''s throat glowed as he sent a burst of flames into the shadows, igniting a pile of broken, wooden furniture. Light spread through the dim hall, revealing a bloodstained floor strewn with gold-trimmed dining ware, encrusted goblets, and bits of torn clothing. Senkar clutched his stomach as the smell hit him; the herbivorous race rarely took well to the smell of blood.

    "They must have gathered here for shelter." Celetaer examined the belongings huddled by statue remnants and paused. "Dom," he tossed a bundle of fabric to the stiff Nord, "Look familiar?"

    "Oh, Erd have mercy!" Dom''s voice cracked as he stared down at a torn, Nordic doll, his lavender eyes misting over.

    Of all alliances, the Nords and Dwarves were closest. They shared skills, culture, and even some physical traits were similar. It was commonplace for members to visit each other''s realms for trade and festivities; even Dom had taken up the fashion of beard jewelry.

    Dom turned to Alder and Senkar, gulping at the knot in his throat. His mouth gaped but no words came. Just a soft whine was managed.

    "The feeling is mutual, my friend," Alder took a solemn seat at a broken, stone table. "Come. There is much to decide and little daylight. How go the relocations?"

    Dom took his seat by Alder, followed by Senkar and Celetaer.

    "Steady, but most don''t have many possessions left to move. Most are choosing to stay in Falorn, though I worry about how they''ll handle the winters."

    "Make sure to provide extra clothes and bedding, then. They don''t have extra fur."

    "Aye."

    "Now, you said most. What of the others, then?"

    "Those who''ve never visited Falorn are being sent to Dairos in the human kingdom," said Celetaer.

    Alder bristled, "You''re sending them there? Whatever for?"

    "It is the closest city available. And the current construction provides ample housing. Unless, of course, there is room in Heartwood?"

    Alder''s scowl remained, but he let him continue.

    "Most of the refuges are women and children who, let''s face it, don''t take up as much living space. Additionally, they have agreed to serve in shops in exchange for living quarters."

    "But how will they be treated?" asked Dom. "The human kingdom is expanding. No doubt their priority is to their own. Won''t the added refuges make them a bit...territorial?" He passed a quick glance around the chamber. "This cannot be repeatd."

    "We''ll need to ensure any authorities uphold fair treatment." Senkar said.

    "Humans are easily bribed," said Dom. "And easily angered. I doubt everyone will remain friendly."

    The alliance between Humans and Nords was stressed at best. The trade of produce and mana stones for seafood and frosthoof meat was the thread holding it together. Even then, human expansion northward and increasing racial intolerance threatened to severe that thread. Dom, himself, fell victim to slurs, jeers, and occasional violence while visiting certain human towns.

    Alder set his amber eyes on Celetaer. "It would be better if you kept eyes on them, given your better relations. If the humans listen to anything, it''s people who give them pretty things."

    Celetaer nodded with a wry grin, "Are dragons really any different?"

    A short chuckle escaped his jaws, giving the others a start. "Don''t get me mixed up with those Montari dragons, now! Sylvani don''t roll over that easily."

    "Now, last but of most importance," Alder rose, plucked a small, wooden box from a crag in the wall, and flicked it open. Inside, five palm-sized crystals radiated red, green, and purple light. "What do we do with these?"

 |Chapter 1| Flameless

    <hr>

    "Ready or not, here I come!" The gold wyrmling recited and scampered through the leaf-strewn understory, looking in all the wrong places.

    Nope, not there either.

    Syra snickered from her hidden perch at her brother''s fruitless search. This was her favorite game: hide-and-seek. A simple human game, but one she excelled at to the dismay of her less perceptive younger brother. But he deserved it this time. Just because his chin horns had budded didn''t make him a capable adversary.

    With a frustrated huff, Cassius scampered off deeper into the auburn forest and mischief twinkled in her jade eyes.

    Perfect.

    She slinked onto a lower limb, her bronze scales hidden among the autumn leaves. Her predatory gaze locked onto the oblivious wyrmling and her body stiffened. Claws gripped the bark. Her chest puffed with air and a glow washed over her. Her spine shortened. Her wings shrunk then disappeared, and her scales elongated. With an exhale the light dissipated, leaving a bronzed bird in her place.

    Shapeshifting. An ability not uncommon to dragons, but rare among the Montari Clan. An ability that earned Syra both admiration and rolled eyes.

    She dove, eyes on the prize that was Cassius'' rump.

    "Ow!" Cassius yowled, spinning and caressing his pecked posterior.

    Syra banked and dive-bombed his head, landing a few good blows to those new horns of his. He roared and flailed his arms, tail thrashing. In a whir, Syra fluttered to an overlooking limb and trilled in triumph. That would teach him humility.

    With a quick sniff, Cassius snapped an accusing glare at her, "That''s cheating!"

    "No, it''s resourceful." Syra cackled and dove again, but this time he ducked. She banked through the trees and, in a flash, returned to dragon form, her clawed hands outstretched and aimed at Cassius'' head. The tackle hit him with a hard thud that sent them tumbling. Cassius managed a foothold on her stomach and catapulted her over him.

    She twisted in the air, barely landing on her feet. A toothy grin curled up her face.

    "I''ll admit, you have gotten a little stronger. But are you faster?" She pivoted on a hind leg and dashing into the air.

    "Oh, no you don''t." Cassius leapt off the ground with flittering wings, slipping on the leaf litter.

    They weaved and dodged and looped until they burst through the tree line. Cassius pulled ahead of Syra, his chest heaving and the shadowed meadow a blur beneath them.

    "Guess you''re not as fast as you thought." He called through pants.

    Syra chuckled; she was done playing games. She straightened her neck, aligning the ridge down her spine. Her chest and side muscles tensed and her wings pounded against the air, propelling her past Cassius and sending him spinning.

    "Guess again!"

    Cassius righted himself and took off after Syra who ducked into a stand of tall grass.

    Thud!

    "Ow..." Syra whined as a small, squealing ball vanished into the brush.

    "Damn it, Syra. You let it get away!" A female voice barked from the grass.

    "Sorry, Petra. Hey, wait! N-no!"

    Syra bolted from the grass, nearly colliding with Cassius as a ball of flames jetted after her. Behind the charred grass, a copper wyrmling crouched with steaming jaws and a fowl attitude after losing her prey.

    "Get back here!"

    Petra, Cassius'' eggmate, took up the rear of the chase. Her muscular bulk, while excellent for brawling, added troublesome weight in-flight. So, Syra banked a sharp left.

    "Bashta!" Cassius cursed and swung himself around hard, his clawtips grazing tree bark. Petra''s momentum, however, was not tolerant of such turns.

    "Move!" Petra smacked Cassius right in the hindquarters.

    "Watch the tail!" The two squabbled in the air like children too deep in a pond.

    By now, Syra was far ahead and even their farsight only caught a glimpse of her shiny rump mocking them.

    "Your tail is mine, Syra!" called Petra, pumping her wings harder and spitting a warning fireball, which Syra dodged with ease.

    The three siblings left the shade of the forest and their pupils adjusted to the open sky over the Crystal Mines. Below them, a worn road trailed to the mountain''s base where grown dragons mined glowing, purple crystals and a caravan of humans lined up to make their trades.

    Mana crystals--in this case, Amec crystals--were the staple energy source for all five races and a prized commodity, one that only dragons and dwarves had apt skills to mine. With the dwarves gone, trade had turned to the generous Montari Clan for supplies. Not that they minded much. Dragons of all species had a particular love of all things shiny, sparkly, and good-tasting, and the craftsmen and bakers traded these eagerly.

    "This always makes me hungry," Cassius said, eyeing the purple stones which were their dietary source of mana.

    "Evening, wyrmlings!" A husky male called up to them as he finished loading a cart with crystals and precious gems and ores. There were, of course, more than just crystals below the Silver Moutains. "Come to make trades, again?" He tossed three crystals in the air, "Have at ''em!"

    Swooping down, they caught their collateral in tiny claws and flittered off to the line of wagons.

    "Wow," A scruffy, raven-haired boy clambered over his older brother''s shoulders watching the trio dart cart-to-cart examining goodies. "There are even tiny dragons!"

    Aidan, a strapping prince-in-training of eleven years, had never seen dragons up close before. His brother, Ethan, had thus thought it a fitting birthday present to show him the Trade Caravan. That, and he hoped that he would actually learn something about economics. But that might have been far-reaching.

    "Of course there are tiny dragons, silly." Ethan grabbed Aidan just as he was climbing the canopy and sat him back down beside him. "They''re probably wyrmlings--just like you." He tickled Aidan in the side and ruffled his hair even more. At seventeen, Ethan was courteous, gentle, and clever, but he wasn''t opposed to the occasional poking at Aidan''s lack of a growth spurt. "Here one comes--hold it up so she can see. And make sure to ask politely, just like Valen taught you."

    Aidan shoved his offering--a sugary pastry puff--into the air. Syra glided over and looped around their wagon, landing atop the canopy. She sniffed the air and climbed down the side of the canopy cage, gaze focused on the sweet morsel. Her frill quivered as her snout sniffed closer.

    "Keep it still." Ethan whispered to a mesmerized Aidan, his dark eyes wide and mouth gaping.

    Syra leaned forward, clutching her crystal, her scaled snout just inches from Aidan''s hand. He snapped his mouth shut to keep from shrieking. Syra lowered her head to Aidan, eyes locked and silent, examining. Aidan swallowed hard.

    "Don''t leave the lady waiting, Aidan." Ethan prodded Aidan in the side.

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    "Oh, um...trade?" Aidan fumbled out in practiced Draconic and gave the pastry a wave.

    Syra''s eyes brightened at the familiar tone and she offered him a confident huff.

    "Trade."

    Aidan handed over the pastry to Syra, who trilled and dropped the stone into Aidan''s shaking hand.

    A giggle escaped Aidan''s lips as he watched Syra''s delight at such a small offering. But his giggling was cut short by Syra shoving her snout inches from his nose. She studied his fair face and his penetrating black eyes, and sniffed deeply.

    He''s smells like dirt...and smoke. It''s...kind of nice.

    "Thank you...Aidan." Syra responded in Altairan, huffing a strand of hair from his face and leaping from the wagon in a rush of wind.

    "Are you finished yet?" Petra whined from a stone ledge.

    "Yes, Petra, we can go now." Syra said, flying back into the forest with her siblings, leaving an awestruck Aidan gawking after them.

    ***

    The trio landed by a stream to inspect, and eat, their trophies. Syra, per her usual indulging, stuffed the entire cake into her mouth. She cooed and her neck frill quivered at the burst of sweetness not typical of a carnivorous diet.

    "You''re gonna get fat, you know," Petra said, pointing a mocking claw at her side.

    "So? All the better for hibernation," Syra muffled through cake-filled cheeks. There was icing smeared all over. She was never a clean eater. "What did you get?" she asked, finally swallowing.

    "This," Petra held up a small golden dragon sculpture, her snout pushed into the air. "It''s even dragon-forged," she pointed to the serpent brand on the bottom. "Father''s gonna love it!"

    "If he even has room left on his ledge," Cassius said, organizing the tools tucked into a cloth pouch.

    "And what treasure did you procure, may I ask?" Petra snapped.

    "Just some tools for Tarys," he said, "He''s apprenticing as a blacksmith and needs a new set." He paused and watched Petra through narrowed eyes. "Or would you prefer to give these to him?" He snickered with a sneer at Petra''s flared frill and wagging mouth.

    "W-why would I want to do that? H-he''s your friend, not mine." Petra stuttered, turning her back.

    "Yet you pad after him constantly."

    "Shut up!" Petra spat, shooting a jet of flames at his smug face.

    He dodged, leaping onto a river rock.

    "Aw, did I pull a heartstring?"

    "I said, shut up!"

    Back and forth the twins exchanged fiery blows, the flames causing steam to rise from the stream. Syra wiped her muzzle clean and watched from atop the small waterfall with downcast eyes.

    "What''s wrong, Syra dear?" Petra teased, "Don''t you wanna join in?"

    Syra''s jaw tensed.

    "Petra..." Cassius hushed.

    "Oh wait, you can''t can you, Flameless?" Petra spat.

    "Just stop." Cassius said with lowered head.

    "Oh, come on, Cas. It''s her own fault she can''t breathe fire." Petra took too much pleasure in drawing out those last three words as her gold eyes leered up at Syra.

    "Of course, I can!" Syra said, puffing out her chest. "It just...comes and goes sometimes."

    Cassius and Petra raised their scaly brows in disbelief.

    "Then show us if you''re so sure of yourself." Petra said, giving Syra her full attention.

    "Fine, I will!" Syra took a solid stance astride her rock. "Just watch!"

    She focused, inhaling deep and opening her throat. She clenched her stomach and exhaled. Nothing.

    Cassius and Petra snickered.

    "Alright, so I need to warm up. Watch this!"

    Again she focused, inhaled, and tightened her core. This time a deep rumble came from her chest. Cassius and Petra went silent and watched wide-eyed. Then it came. A deep, long belch that echoed off the trees and smelled of burnt meat and eggs.

    The twins fell into the stream laughing and Syra drooped in defeat and frustration.

    "I guess big things do come in small packages!" cried Cassius, mirth gathering in his eyes.

    "Oh, yeah?" Syra slammed a glowing hand into the water and a trickle of electricity skipped across the water, tackling them both and knocking them on their rumps. "Bet you can''t do that!"

    Petra snarled, thrashing her tail and Cassius wriggled his hindquarters in a crouch.

    "Now you''ve done it!" Cassius said, lunging at Syra.

    Syra dodged, causing Cassius to slip and tumble into the water. Petra leapt up the waterfall and joined Cassius in his attempts to tackle the bouncing runt as she bounded rock-to-rock, avoiding their attacks.

    "How about this?" Syra said, throwing up a shimmering barrier as Cassius lunged. He slammed smack into it. "Or this?" She slammed her hand onto the water, freezing a strip in front of a charging Petra and sending her sliding. "Or maybe even..." Light encircled Cassius and Syra raised her forearms, lifting him into the air.

    "Gained a little weight, have you Cas?" Syra groaned, straining to keep him airborne.

    "Please don''t drop me." Cassius said, flailing.

    "Okay, we get it already!" Petra snarled, spitting fire at Syra and causing Cassius to plummet into the stream.

    "And she dropped me." Cassius said, spitting up water.

    "You''re good at magic, big deal!" Petra said.

    She stalked towards Syra, head low and teeth bared, pushing her to the edge of the falls. Her throat lit up and flames skipped across the water, making Syra jump back and nearly topple over the edge. Syra flailed her wings, steadying herself. Petra sneered and let the flames lick at her snout before dying.

    "You''ll never become Vayguard like that." Petra growled, a slight pleasure rumbling in her throat.

    "A bit harsh, don''t you th--" Cassius said.

    "Look at you! You''re small and weak and only good at running away. A magical barrier can only last for so long, Syra. What will you do then?"

    Syra hesitated.

    "I thought so--" Petra''s gloating was cut off by a long and low roar from the mountain peaks. "Father''s home!"

    Petra turned her raised snout from Syra before taking off, "A dragon is nothing without fire."

    With that, Petra and Cassius took off towards the mountains, leaving Syra fumbling on wet stones.

    ***

    On an overlooking ledge just beyond the tree line, Rigel stood waiting. The last rays of autumn sparked against his golden scales but cast long shadows down the valley, and the clan Vayguard watched the two glints flutter up the mountainside.

    "Father!" Petra cried in greeting, skidding to a halt from a not-so-soft landing, causing Cassius to trip over her.

    "There you are! I was wondering if I would have to eat your dinner for you."

    "Not a chance!" Petra padded to her father and rubbed her body against his tall legs, a coo vibrating her throat.

    "Where''s your sister?"

    Petra''s tail dropped, "Probably still spitting smoke."

    Rigel sighed, looking to Cassius, "She''s still having trouble?"

    Cassius nodded, "Seems like it. But she''s still trying."

    "Trying isn''t good enough!" The tip of Petra''s tail twitched. "You either do, or you don''t. Trying will just get you killed."

    "Petra, enough, please." Cassius said, following her into the lair entrance.

    "What, am I wrong?"

    "No, just--"

    "You make fun of her, too. So, don''t act like your dung don''t stink!"

    The twins continued to argue all the way into the lair, their banter echoing off the carving-covered walls of the entrance tunnel.

    "Draco, help me." Rigel sighed, and turned his gaze back to the meadow and the lone spark weaving upwards through shadows.

    He pried up a chest scale with large but nimble claws, and dislodged a small stone that appeared to be broken in half. The glimmer in his icy eyes dulled as they stared down.

    "Show me." Rigel hushed, his timbre weak and thick with longing. The stone glimmered and an image flickered in his palm, feint like a memory faded with time. Yet his eyes clung on, desperate and forlorn, to the ghostly image of a sleeping dragoness with a ring encircling her left horn.

    "Oh, Nova...she really needs you right now. I don''t know if she''ll ever be ready." A delicate claw stroked at the visage but met only mist.

    "Papa!"

    Rigel shoved the stone under a scale and regained his composure as Syra soared over the ledge in a huff and landed with a short hop.

    "Sorry I''m late! Petra and Cas left without me."

    "So they did. They just arrived."

    "Oh," Syra picked at the ground with a claw, "Well, then I''d better get in there before they eat everything!" She feigned a smile and trotted to the entrance.

    "Syra," Rigel said, stopping her in her tracks. "I hear you''re still struggling."

    "Ugh!" Her body drooped and she threw her head back with a huff, "Those loud mouths told you, didn''t they?"

    "It doesn''t matter who told me. We need to talk about--"

    "Not again, please."

    "Syra, you know this is an essential skill to have, especially as clan heir. As Firstborn, you should--"

    "''Should have already mastered it.'' I know." Syra paced the worn stone ledge.

    Rigel softened at his daughter''s dilemma, "I''m just trying to help." Grief passed over his eyes. "If only you took after your mother."

    Pain flickered across Syra''s face and she stared up at the deep scar that encircled his left horn. But she turned a soft grin to her father.

    "I have her magic."

    Rigel nodded and gave her a quick pat in the head, "That you do." He stared down into the bright green eyes looking up at him, the gold flecks sparkling at their center, "And her eyes."

    Rigel was confident in magical abilities. She was outpacing her mage apprenticeship, and he fell victim to her shapeshifting pranks to the point of annoyance. But Petra had a point.

    "Look, the Clan Summit is a few moons away and I would like you to join me. Not as a wyrmling this time, but as my heir."

    Excitement and doubt battled on Syra''s face.

    "Meaning I''ll have to show off in the games, right?"

    "Yes, you will be expected to participate. In all events."

    "Lovely."

    "However," his eyes twinkled down at her, "Alder will be there and I had hoped to convince him to tutor you--given your shifting skills."

    Hope surged back into her eyes, "Are you serious?"

    "Very. But, I cannot comfortably send you off without you able to defend yourself."

    "But I can defend myself!" she groaned. "Just ask Petra and Cas--"

    "Petra and Cassius are still wyrmlings, Syra. Their flames are but embers by comparison. Yes, your magic is commendable--exceptional, even. But when you are snout-to-snout with an Ignis, even your mother''s fire did little damage. What will your magic do? Barriers and healing are excellent support, but in the throes of battle they''re just not en--"

    "So, you''re saying my best is just not good enough?" Syra snarled, her frill rising in anger.

    "That''s not what I meant."

    "Yes it was." Her jaw tensed, "You''re just like Petra."

    "Syra--"

    "No!" She stood her ground, but her voice cracked. "I''ve tried countless times, but guess what? I can''t breathe fire! End of story. The precious Firstborn is Flameless!" She spun and darted off towards the forest. "Sorry to disappoint you."

    Rigel went to chase after her but stopped, "You can''t keep running away from this!"

    "I''m not running away!"

    "You''re doing it right now."

    She stopped, grimacing, "No, I''m no--"

    The bright call of a war horn cut through the trees and Rigel stiffened to attention. Lifting his head above the boulders, his gaze locked onto the city glimmering at the base of the mountains and the smoke rising from it.

    "Altaira..."

 |Chapter 2| Vayguard

    <hr>

    "Papa?" Syra hushed, frozen by his sudden intensity.

    The air became eerily still. Rigel''s pupils widened, focusing on the splatter of lights nestled in the valley below. The crash of wood echoed up the hills followed by the clamor of screams and battle cries. From the depths of the trees, a shadow rose and descended upon the city, spewing thick pillars of flames.

    "Get inside," Rigel commanded.

    "What? Why?"

    "Now!" Rigel whipped his tail around Syra and slung her towards the lair entrance. Above her, the air whirred with wingbeats as dragons poured from the caves dotting the mountain range. All headed for Altaira.

    "What''s going on?" Syra pleaded, resisting her father''s shepherding.

    "No time. Cassius! Petra!" Rigel''s voice boomed into the tunnel, with the twins scrambling outside moments later.

    "What''s happening?" Petra''s voice wavered a slight as she and Cassius ducked away from the wave of adults surging out of the cave.

    "I need you to stay here." Rigel said, sliding Syra over to her siblings. "All of you."

    The twins nodded and Rigel lept into the sky, the rush of wind from his wings nearly toppling them over.

    "Wait! Where are you going?" Syra called after Rigel, racing to the edge of the ledge.

    "Let''s go, Syra!" Cassius beckoned her as he and Petra returned to the tunnel.

    The sound of flapping made him double back. She was gone.

    "Syra!" he roared, "Come back!" But all he could see was her small frame jetting down the mountainside.

    The firelight grew as Syra neared the city. Illuminated by the flames, the human army collided with the wave of ogres making their way through the shacks and cottages of the outer city. They shrieked and boomed and stumbled as fire rained down from Montari''s reinforcements. The stench of charred ogre flesh hit Syra hard even at this distance.

    Below her, the human merchants fled their wagons heading for the mountain''s safety. A pair of black and gold heads caught Syra''s attention as Ethan and Aidan ran through the fields with an ogre thundering close behind.

    "Go to the mountain!" Ethan yelled, waving at the ogre and ducking into the forest. As rehearsed, Aidan veered into the meadow that ascended to the Montari lair. But, being the lazy brute it was, the ogre took after the smaller, easier kill.

    "Aidan!" Syra roared and dove towards the scrambling boy.

    "Marrak, stop!" Rigel''s voice cut through the chaos and Syra looked up to see her father slamming into a massive Ignis dragon.

    The Ignis male righted himself midair and banked into a rising thermal, lifting himself to face off with Rigel.

    "What are you doing, Marrak?" Rigel roared with a crack of concern as the two circled each other like vultures, "We had an agreement--this is Montari territory!"

    Marrak turned his bull-like horns at the Montari leader, "That agreement was between you Vayguards. It no longer applies to me." His jet black scales glowed like fresh lava as his throat filled with flames, "All thanks to you!"

    "What?" Rigel hesitated at the accusation, "What are you talking about? What happened, Marra--"

    White-hot plasma surged from Marrak''s jowls and Rigel howled, dodging too late for his tail to miss the blow.

    "Damn it, Marrak, just talk to me! We can work this out!" Rigel hissed as he swerved left and right, dodging the bombarding blasts. "Just leave the humans out of it!" Looping around, Rigel retaliated with a cone of blue flames.

    Marrak smirked and let the searing torrent crash over his back. The thick coating of basalt, garnet, and obsidian from his countless dives through Mount Blackstone simply sparkled in the fire light.

    "Don''t act like you don''t remember!" He twisted and flared his wings, the sudden drag causing Rigel to collide right into him. They fell, spiraling downwards, talons locked. "One mistake," His chest glowed and rumbled, "One mistake and I lost my clan, my family...all because you refused to listen to me!" His dark red eyes held Rigel''s as firm as his talons, "Now I''m returning the favor."

    Marrak''s flames surged in his throat and Rigel clamped his jaws around Marrak''s neck, twisting his body, and redirecting the flames downward. Downward towards the meadow, and towards Aidan.

    Syra''s back muscles screamed as she pumped her wings harder. Swooping over Aidan, she threw up a barrier around them. Aidan screamed as he watched the ogre''s body incinerate in front of him, the flames breaking over the golden dome like water over stone.

    Marrak''s eyes widened at the sight of Rigel''s daughter. She was no longer a mere hatchling who insisted on perching on his horns. Now she stood a budding mage protecting a human.

    "Well, looky here! Someone''s quiet brave!"

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    "Marrak, don''t! She''s still a wyrmling!"

    A dark and giddy grin slid across Marrak''s eel-like face, "Oh, but she''s your favorite."

    His hind foot slashed at Rigel''s underbelly, slinging him off. He dove at Syra and Rigel bolted after him.

    Below, the barrier faded and Aidan curled into a ball, screaming.

    "It''s okay, I''m not going to hurt you! I promise," Syra insisted.

    Aidan poked his head from under his arms and started in surprise. "It''s you!" He said, recalling their earlier meeting.

    "Syra!" Rigel slammed into Marrak and they skidded across the meadow, the heat from Marrak''s body burning a scar through the patches of greenery.

    "You will not harm her." Rigel pinned Marrak to the ground and his scales glowed from the heat. He winced and Marrak chuckled. With a thrash of his tail to the ground, Marrak flipped Rigel onto his back and shoved his face into the dirt.

    "You need to wisen up, Rigel." Marrak sneered, his snout pressed to Rigel''s cheek. "You really think that because Draco''s your ancestor that you and your line are infallible."

    Rigel squirmed and roared under Marrak''s greater mass and a flicker of pity passed across Marrak''s narrowed eyes, "You truly do know nothing."

    Steaming blood dripped from his neck wound and landed on Rigel''s face, causing his scales to melt. Rigel clenched his jaw from the hot pain and Marrak laughed out loud. "You can''t even take a little heat!"

    He gripped Rigel''s throat with a clawed hand and held him steady, "I''ll say it again so you can hear: Nova was a mistake. But the rest of your clan won''t be. I will find those shards, Rigel. No matter how well Alder hid them, I will find them and and melt your entire mountain if I have to." Marrak grinned at Syra''s fear-struck face, "Starting with her."

    Rigel snarled and roared, spewing flames into Marrak''s face. Marrak rocketed into the air with Rigel on his tail.

    Syra nudged Aidan to his feet and pulled him away from the city. "Come on! You have to get out of here."

    "Wait, my brother!" Aidan said, ducking away and running towards the forest with Syra chasing after him.

    ***

    The sky above the forest vibrated with roars of battle as Rigel and Marrak wrestled and exchanged slashing blows.

    Marrak swung his clawed hand and caught the side of Rigel''s neck. Blood flew, pearling and falling into the trees. Rigel fell, but managed to correct himself, slamming into Marrak''s chest. Marrak clawed his sides and Rigel clamped his jaws around Marrak''s previous neck wound, using the pain in his sides to bite down harder and crack through the igneous armor.

    He couldn''t hold on long. An Ignis'' body temperature mirrors their volcanic habitat and, despite the fire-proof lining, his mouth was beginning to char.

    Rigel pumped his large powerful wings, dragging Marrak higher. He peaked then dove, plummeting for the trees. With a guttural heave, he slung Marrak downward, sending him crashing through the canopy.

    Marrak''s hide was stoney and thick, but hollow bones would still shatter. Rigel just hoped that was enough. He strained to stay airborne and return to the lair. Blood dribbled down his chest and all he could taste was metal. He focused on the three specks awaiting him on the ledge, but his head swam and shadows ate away at the periphery of his vision. It had better been enough.

    ***

    Below the burning canopy, Ethan steadied himself on a boulder to huff back his breath. His eyes darted behind him, but no ogre followed.

    "Shit."

    He dashed back towards the meadow when a roar whizzed overhead. The trees crashed and a heavy thud shook the ground. He crouched behind the boulder and covered his face from the flying debris. When the dust settled, Marrak laid crumpled and limp on the ground meer feet away. The last embers of a barrier dissipated and a groan rumbled in his bloodied throat.

    "Magic?" Ethan hushed to himself.

    "Surprised?" Marrak''s voice was faint and raw. Like the Montari, the Ignis weren''t overly talented in magical arts. Marrak was among the few blessed with the skill.

    Ethan jumped back, tripping on roots and falling flat in the dirt. Marrak simply watched the boy fumble for his sword with ladened eyes.

    "Who are you?" Ethan demanded, pointing his sword at Marrak. "Why are you attacking us? What did we do to you?"

    A chuckle scratched at Marrak''s throat--the pitiful thing thought a sword actually usefull.

    "Me? Nothing," He grinned at Ethan''s confused expression and rose on shaky legs. "I merely needed to flush out the king."

    "Ethan!" Aidan''s voice called through the forest.

    "Run away!" Ethan gripped his sword with steeled hands and dashed forward, aiming for Marrak''s throat.

    Marrak let him come.

    The metal screeched against stone, then snapped.

    "Damn it." Ethan watched the tip flop into the dirt. He stumbled back, but kept the stubby blade raised.

    "If it''s the King you want, then let me arrange an audience. I''m sure we can find a--

    "Compromise?" Marrak sneered. "After all his Council has done? He knows no such thing." He snarled at the smoldering city, "Is this really what it takes for him to listen?"

    "Of course, not!" Ethan pleaded up at stone-faced serpent, "I''ll talk to him. And to the Council. I''ll make them listen! Somehow--"

    "That you will." A sadness flickered with the firelight Marrak''s eyes as he filled his chest with fire. "A pity, too. You would''ve made a good King."

    ***

    Aidan and Syra weaved through the forest after Ethan and were greeted by a flash of fire through the trees.

    "Ethan!" Aidan screamed, leaping over fallen limbs.

    They burst through the underbrush and skidded to a halt.

    "Ethan, where are y--"

    Their eyes filled with horror at the sight of Ethan''s body lying burnt on the ground. His princely clothes and silken hair were charred, leaving only scorched and melted flesh.

    "Oh no..." Syra whimpered.

    "Ethan!" Aidan wailed and fell to his knees beside his brother, searching for any sign of life but careful not to touch him. He didn''t stir.

    "Why?" Aidan''s broken voice wavered with his shaking, pools forming in his young eyes.

    "I-I don''t kno--"

    "Why? What did we ever do to you?" Aidan screamed, snarling up at Syra who faltered, not knowing what to say.

    "Ethan! Aidan!" A middle-aged man called from horseback, his purple cloak singed.

    "Papa!" Aidan cried, running to his father in sobs.

    Syra darted deeper into the forest, watching from beneath a bush.

    Rogan lept from the horse and wrapped tight arms around him, "Thank goodness you''re safe! Where''s Eth--"

    Rogan went pale as he stared down at his eldest son. "No...no it can''t!" He fell to Ethan''s side and lifted his head with gentle, trembling hands. "Ethan? Ethan, wake up my son. Please?" He bit down hard on his lower lip but the tears still came.

    "Dad?" Ethan''s squeak was barely audible.

    "Ethan!" Rogan and Aidan breathed in relief. "Thank the heavens!"

    "Dad?" Ethan continued, though his breathing was labored and shallow. "I''m sorry."

    "What? Why should you be sorry? You''re alive!" Whether it was out of hope or denial, he kept smiling down at his son.

    "He got me first. The dragon."

    "A dragon did this?" Rogan exclaimed; the stab of betrayal was palpable. Ethan tried to nod but his green eyes glazed over.

    "Ethan, stay with me!" Rogan had to shake him to keep him conscious.

    "Sorry, dad. Seems I''m a bit sleepy." A weak smile creased the raw skin on the side of his face.

    "Listen to me," Rogan pleaded, "You have to stay awake. If not you''ll--"

    "It''s okay. It''s doesn''t hurt."

    "But I don''t--I don''t want you to go!" Aidan burst into tears.

    Ethan just smiled, "You gotta be strong now, little one." He strained to talk. "I wasn''t strong enough and this city is going to need you. The kingdom will need you."

    "But I need you now."

    "Promise?" Ethan held out a shaking index finger.

    Aidan sniffed back a sob and nodded, latching his tiny finger in Ethan''s, "Promise."

    Syra could watch no longer. She slipped from under the bush and hurried back to the lair, with a sinking feeling in her gut.

 |Chapter 3| Broken

    <hr>

    Cassius and Petra raced to Syra as she landed outside the lair entrance.

    "Syra!" Cassius said, voice cracked with worry, "where have you be��"

    "I can''t believe you!" Petra yowled, spitting flames at Syra''s feet.

    "Petra, calm down!" Cassius said.

    "No!" Petra aimed another blast at her sister''s head and Cassius shoved himself in between the two, beating his wings against her flames.

    "Petra, enough!"

    "No! She can''t just fly off like that and think it''s okay!"

    "Of course it''s not okay. But at least we know she''s safe."

    "Now we do! But what good is it? Father, he''s...he''s..." Petra broke into sobs and bolted back into the cave.

    "Petra, wait!" Cassius and Syra chased after her.

    Syra halted at the end of the tunnel and watched Cassius dive off the ledge into the Main Chamber; a vast cave where the mountain''s core was hollowed out and was tinged purple by hundreds of glowing amec crystals. Starlight beamed from the skylight, and elegantly carved stone bridges crisscrossed down the descending ledges. The chamber was silent except for Petra''s wailing and the rush of water on stone from the underground waterfall that formed a chain of pools at the chamber''s base. Dragons, large and small, lined the carving-adorned walkway that spiraled down the chamber. Rising from the bottom, a glowing amec monolith towered over Rigel''s crumpled form.

    "Papa?" Syra dove off the ledge and glided down to the crowd of dragons surrounding him.

    "Put up a barrier and double patrols! We don''t know when he''ll come back." Rigel commanded through labored and raspy breaths.

    The crowd bowed and withdrew, revealing the gash in his neck and the red puddle growing beneath him.

    "Papa!" Syra ran to his side and clamped her hands against his neck. The gash stretched as long as she was, and her little hands provided little cover. "Just hold on!" She breathed deep, steadying herself and focusing all of her energy into her hands. She felt the warmth expand from her chest and down her front legs, but the magic only managed to sputter and spark around her hands.

    Rigel turned to her, his eyes barely able to focus, "Syra...''

    "It''s okay! I can do this!" She focused harder, but her breathing was shallow and her hands were shaking, and only more sparks came. She choked back a sob and tears fell as her magic failed.

    "Syra, listen," Rigel shifted away from Petra who clung to his arm, and pulled himself closer to Syra. Pulling the broken stone from under a scale, he held it out for Syra. "I was supposed to give this to you when you breathed your first flame, but it seems I won''t be able to do that."

    "Papa��"

    "Take it. It''s from your mother. Alder said it''s enchanted and that Marrak will try his best to get it."

    "Why? H-how am I supposed to stop him?"

    "He didn''t say exactly how it works. But he said they were both positive you''d find a way." He strained to breathe, "I''m sorry, Syra. You''re so young and it''s so soon...too soon. You are the heir to this clan, and now it falls to you. Please...protect it."

    "No, wait! What about the summit? You''re supposed to take me. I promise I''ll work harder, please��"

    He managed a flicker of a smile as once sky-blue eyes wavered up at her.

    "I''m...so sorry."

    His eyes fell still and faded. In a single moment, all future memories faded along with them. There would be no summit with Papa. No in-flight history lesson. No licking feast leftovers off his snout. No, ''You tried your best'' on the way home.

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    There would be no Papa.

    Syra trembled, and the mountain was silent.

    Cassius turned his back and shoved his face into a nearby nook.

    Petra''s wails sang through every tunnel.

    "No," Syra shook his limp arm, "Papa no, you can''t! Don''t leave me! Papa!"

    And then there was light. Dim at first, but grew like a sunrise from within Rigel''s corpse. It grew, then shone, then his body was nothing but light. It was warm and bright, and glimmered with stardust.

    "What''s happening?" Syra asked as the light waved and swirled under her hands.

    "Essence, my love," said Vega, Rigel''s mother. "It is his essence. Watch, now."

    Like water, the light flowed from Syra, wrapped around Cassius, Petra, and Vega��who stifled a cry, herself��and meandered towards the monolith. It spiraled up the crystal, which radiated and sent shimmers throughout the chamber. And then it grew, and branched, and condensed. The light then dimmed, and in its place a glorious tree stood, its arms outreaching and its leaves as gold as Rigel''s scales once were.

    "It''s magnificent, Rigel," Vega cooed to herself, "as expected."

    The elder stepped forward with raised head and called to her clanmates, "As the rain returns to the sky..."

    "So shall we to the earth!" echoed the clan, the chamber humming with the voices of a hundred dragons.

    But Syra paid no heed to ceremony. She remained transfixed on the tree as the echoes faded to silence.

    "Papa..." Syra coughed and choked on salty tears. She wanted to run to the tree and claw at it. To rip it apart and dig out her father who would, somehow, be sleeping inside. She wanted to summon every archmage in the clans and bring him back, even though she knew there was no such spell. No, he was gone. Her guardian, her teacher, her hero, was gone.

    "Syra," Vega stepped towards her, grief and pride churning in her sea blue eyes, "It is time."

    "What? No!" Syra shrank back as Vega bowed, lowering her head to her feet.

    "You have my fire."

    "No, wait! Stop!"

    One by one the entire clan bowed, chanting, "You have my fire!"

    Syra stumbled backward, her gaze jumping from face to face, member to member, each one a responsilibilty.

    "You still can''t breathe fire, can you?"

    "You''ll never become Vayguard like that!"

    "If only you took after your mother."

    Reason after reason washed over her and she clenched her eyes shut.

    "No! No, I can''t! Not me! Not now!" Syra bolted from the gathering and soared into an upper cave out of sight.

    "Syra, wait!" Cassius called, going to chase after her. But Vega stepped ahead to stop him.

    "Give her time."

    ***

    Crystal light illuminated the large stone den. Worn books and scrolls lined the periphery and an alchemist set stood in one corner. A map of the dragon clans adorned one wall and a small pile of human-made stuffed animals covered the foot of Syra''s bed of moss.

    Syra sniffed backed the aching sobs as she huddled behind a curtain of vines that veiled her moss-covered cubby hole.

    Petra was right. I didn''t become Vayguard through strength or valor. Papa had to die for it to happen. How pathetic. How sick. And I caused it! She threw her hands over her snout and dug her claws into her scales to keep the yowl inside. If I had just followed orders, like a good wyrmling, he wouldn''t have had to protect me! How could anyone follow me after that?

    "Petra, you''re being unreasonable." Cassius'' voice echoed from the tunnel outside Syra''s den.

    "Shut up, Cas. I don''t want to hear it."

    Syra crawled from her bed and peeked into the tunnel. In the shadow of a carved pillar, Cassius and Petra argued, both of their frills flared and red.

    "Look, I''m just as upset as you, but she''s Vayguard now and we have to honor that."

    Petra clawed at the floor, tail quivering, "Father is the rightful Vayguard, not her! She can''t even breathe fire. How is she supposed to lead, let alone protect us?"

    "Give her time. We can teach her."

    "No!'' Petra''s hiss fizzled out as her voice cracked. "No, I will not. All that hot air about her magic, and ''can you do this?'', but she couldn''t even save him. She couldn''t save Fa��"

    Her cry was cut off by Cassius'' forehead pressed against hers.

    "She tried, Petra."

    But Petra only stiffened, "Exactly. She tried, like she always does, and it still wasn''t enough. If it weren''t for her, father would still be��"

    "That''s not true and you know it!"

    Petra startled at his sudden snarl, only to stalk away towards their den, tears brimming and legs trembling.

    "She''s our sister, Petra."

    Petra''s gold eyes glared in the shadow, "Not anymore. I''m done."

    She waved him away with her tail and disappeared into their den. Cassius wimpered but followed her inside, head low and tail dragging.

    Syra stood silent, cold and hollow. She was right. It was her fault. No matter of training or fire-breathing could reconcile that.

    "Please...protect it."

    Rigel''s words almost made her laugh this time. As if fire-breathing wasn''t impossible enough.

    I lost my father and sister in the same day. What do I even have left?

    Syra swallowed the knot in her throat, bolting down the tunnel and sprinting out of the lair before the mourning vigil even caught notice.

    The terrace was deserted and she threw herself onto the ledge, her claws scraping the side.

    "I''m sorry, Papa. I''m so sorry." She wailed at the starry sky, pleading for just one to twinkle at her.

    She pulled the broken stone from under a scale and just stared at it. A plain, gray stone broken in half, with nothing special about it save a little magic. Just like her.

    "How is one stone supposed to fix all this?"

    As if in response, it glowed. From within the stone, a light grew and shone and condensed into a beam. A fine beam of light that pointed down the mountainside and into the valley below where it rested just outside the Altairan gates. Syra''s mouth wagged.

    Is this...the enchantment Papa mentioned?

    The light flickered and faded, leaving her with a decision.

    She stood and looked back at the tunnel entrance for a long moment.

    "She was positive you''d find a way."

    And then the moment was over.

 |Chapter 4| Room for One More

    <hr>

    The nighttime mountain air was cool on her tearstained face and gave her outstretched wings a shiver in her descent. Deep in the mountain''s shadow, the charred meadow watched her as she passed overhead. She fought the urge to look down where Marrak had pinned down her father.

    No. No more crying. Not over that. She coached herself.

    You can''t keep running away! Rigel''s words spurned her onward, past the charred ogre and past the forest where Marrak fell. Beyond still, the shimmering city lights stoked the burning in her chest and she swallowed the knot in her throat.

    "Protect the clan," she repeated, "for Papa."

    Wafting through the shadow of the treeline, she glided down to the edge of the city. Two armed soldiers guarded the gate but appeared oblivious to the tiny shadow flittering into the forest. Dying flames still lingered in the trees and she took shelter in a thick bush. From her hiding spot she studied the guards'' anatomy; two arms, two legs, one head, but no tail or scales, just some fur atop their heads. Not too bad, she thought. It should be possible.

    She turned her snout to the air. To the scent of musk, metal, and smoke. To the smell of blood and burnt meat. There.

    The air grew thick with fearscent the deeper into the forest she went until she came to the familiar clearing. The metallic musk of Ignis hovered around the bloodstained leaves, but she hufted it from her nostrils, searching for one lighter and soured by fear.

    It was faint but clung to the burnt branches where a smear of blood graced a protuding twig.

    "I hope this is enough."

    Syra hesitated before wrapping her forked tongue around the twig. Egh! She winced at its metallic saltiness. Not at all sweet like she expected. Definitely not like frosthoof.

    She swallowed the taste away and focused on remembering the guards. Two arms, two legs, no wings or tail, and two eyes...right? Bashta, I couldn''t see their faces! She frantically scoured her memory of each human she ever spied on.

    I''m Aidan...

    The voice and face of pastry boy flashed into her mind--his scaleless skin and lips, round eyes, and a tiny bump of a snout squashed in the middle of his flat face. Got it!

    Closing her eyes, she breathed deep and concentrated, feeling the warmth spread from her chest to her belly, then outward and all over. Light shimmered around her and she felt lightheaded for the first time. This form must take a lot of mana, she thought, thinking it odd. But humans were different from birds or foxes or otters, so maybe it was to be expected.

    The light dissipated, leaving a young girl crouched by the charred bush. Blinking, Syra spent a moment just analyzing the hands in front of her. As she thought, there were no scales, just soft, bronzed skin that was incredible sensitive, especially at the fingertips. And tiny flat claws, if you could even call them that. The teeth were her biggest surprise, as she ran her tongue along the dull ridges in her tiny mouth. The fur atop her head was bark brown and tumbled down her back and shoulders in soft waves. She tussled with it a bit, having no idea what to do with the stuff.

    After a short battle with the tangled locks she stood, or at least tried to stand. She felt so heavy. Her longer limbs were clumsy and she swayed from her new height. The ground was cold underfoot and she could feel every rock and leaf under her tender feet. At first it was a tad calming, but she winced as she stepped down on something hard and sharp.

    "Bashta! What was that?" She fell on her rump and grabbed at the ground, finding her broken stone hidden under leaf litter. She breathed a sigh of relief, "Good lord, I almost forgot about this thing."

    Taking the stone in one hand, she managed to brace herself up against a tree. Then it was on the hard part, walking. She stumbled, fell, and bruised a few toes on her way back to the gate, but gradually grew accustomed to the odd pendular movement. The lights of city gate were visaible through the trees when, mid-stride, her foot hit a root hiding under the leaf litter. She fell hard into the trunk, jarring a burning branch from its place above her.

    It burned.

    It burned, and she screamed. Syra had been hit with flames several times, mostly from Petra, and it never more than tingled. But this human skin, it was so weak and fragile, even the scraping from the bark hurt. The heavy branch pinned her under its fiery blooms and she flailed her limbs trying to dislodge it, but the flames licked her skin, causing it to blister.

    "Who''s there?" A man''s voice called through the brush.

    The guards, they must have heard me screaming, she thought. She wanted to call for help, but all of her words came out in nonsense screams.

    "Hold on, we''re coming!"

    She heard the crashing of footsteps and felt the weight lift off of her, but her skin screamed on. She clung to herself, but any touch sent spasms through her body.

    "Oh, good lord!" She heard one guard yell. There was a whoosh of wind then a soft weight that surrounded her.

    "Miss? Can you hear me?" The guard spoke softly with a tender voice.

    Syra nodded, feeling the fabric of the cloak the guard had draped over her naked body.

    "Good. Can you open your eyes?"

    Eyes, right. She had those. Luckily, the fire hadn''t reached her eyes and they fluttered open with no issue.

    Knelt before her was a young man, probably in his twenties, with a very worried look about his face. "Are you alright, miss?"

    Syra went to stand but flinched as the cloak grazed the blisters on her back, "Hurts."

    "I''m sure it does," The guard said, "You have some pretty severe burns. We''ll need to take you to the infirmary for treatment."

    Given the context, Syra assumed an infirmary was similar to a healing den, so she nodded in agreement. If it got her into the city and took this pain away, why not?

    "Can you walk?" The second guard asked, helping her stand. She nodded again.

    They led her to the gate where she was carefully placed atop a horse. The second guard remained at the post while they trotted through the streets towards the infirmary near Altaira''s center.

    "What''s your name?" asked the guard.

    She hesitated, but decided that she couldn''t afford to come off as suspicious.

    "Syra."

    "Hello, Syra, I''m Kaelem. I''m a sentry so I know the quickest way to the infirmary. What''s your surname? Maybe we can find your family."

    "Surname?" Syra looked up at Kaelem confused. She had not learned such a word.

    "Family name," Kaelem slowed his speech, seeing how her eyes searched him.

    But, we don''t have family names. It''s just...us. I am me, and we are...maybe he means clan name? But if I say, Montari, then that will definitely give me away.

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    Syra only shook her head.

    "I see." Kaelem''s expression became more concerned, but he said nothing.

    Syra turned her attention to the shops and houses and cabins lining the streets as they passed. Some were crafted from wood, others from stone, others had rims that shone like metal.

    They rounded a corner and the scenery took a drastic change. Rows upon rows of buildings laid wasted and burning by dragonfire. Some streets were even blockaded by the debris of the collapses.

    Marrak did this, she thought, And he did it so easily.

    Yet another turn brought them to the Inner Ring of the city where there was less destruction.

    "We''re lucky the fires didn''t get this far," Kaelem said, "All of our supplies and aids are housed here."

    "It is good the dragons came to help, yes?" Syra forced herself to hide her pride. But Kaelem only grew cross.

    "Those dragons can shove it." He said, furrowing his brow.

    Syra started a bit, "B-but, why? They helped."

    "Yeah, for now. You can never tell with those...creatures. They were probably all in it together."

    That''s not true! Syra wanted to argue, but held her tongue. It would only make her job harder. Just keep quiet for now, she told herself.

    The infirmary was a large, domed building with a shiny blue roof. Blue banners hung around its perimeter, each meticulously embroidered with a large Altairan crest. The light from inside lit up the surrounding plaza, and voices bounced off the white pillars into the night air.

    "Come," Kaelem said, helping her from the horse and taking her small hand, "I know just the person to get you fixed up."

    Inside, the main hall was filled wall-to-wall with people. Rows of cots held the injured as men and women in purple capes with blue banners rushed about tending to them.

    "Oh, Nelly!" Kaelem stopped a young apprentice with gold banners running by, "Where''s Valen?"

    "He should be in Section Three." She pointed past the far archway before readjusting her pile of salves and hurrying off again.

    "This way," Kaelem guided Syra further into the hall, weaving through the throng of people and down and across rows into a separate section marked by columns.

    As they walked, Syra surveyed the injuries. There was everything from broken bones, to burns, to missing limbs. Some were, of course, worse than others. All around people were crying or moaning, either from pain or fear for their loved one.

    Humans are really weak, Syra thought, remembering how much her own burns hurt. How do they manage to survive?

    "Papa! Papa don''t go!" The cry of a child made her tense. Her eyes darted to a young boy crying at his father''s side, his mother distraught in wails. Syra felt her eyes fill and blur her vision. But I''m weak, too, she thought, blinking them back.

    "Valen!" Kaelem called to a black-haired man in a purple cloak with gold banners tending to an injured woman, "I''ve got a child here!"

    "Be right there!" Valen said, waving.

    "You see that man, there?" Kaelem cooed to Syra, "That''s Valen Ferra. He''s an archmage."

    "Archmage?" Her excited squeak made Kaelem laugh.

    "Oh yes! Some say he''s Altaira''s very best. He''ll fix you right up, no problem. For now, you should rest," Kaelem turned to Syra and motioned to a cot, sitting her down.

    "Can I get one of those?" He stopped a medic carrying blankets. "Thanks," He took one and draped it around Syra, careful not to graze her burns.

    "You are good at this," Syra said.

    Kaelem laughed, "I''ve had practice." He retrieved his own cloak from Syra. "My son thinks he''s twice as old as he is, which doesn''t go well with the other squires."

    Syra picked at the wool cloth in thought, "Maybe he should be the one practicing."

    Kaelem burst out laughing and patted her head, "You''re probably right!"

    "Kaelem!" Valen hurried towards them through the crowd, sweaty brow plastered with long strands that escaped his ponytail. "What have you brought me?"

    "This is Syra," Kaelem explained, "We found her by the West Gate. She seems to have been caught in the forest fire. Her burns are quite severe."

    "Syra? That''s your name, is it?" His eyes looked surprised, but kind. "It is a pretty name��a strong name. Well-suited for one who survives dragonfire. Now, let''s take a look at those burns, shall we?"

    He knelt down and reached for her arm, pulling back her blanket.

    "Kaelem?" He asked, snapping her blanket back into place, "Where are her clothes?"

    Kaelem shifted his weight and looked down, "She had none, sir. Nor does she recall having a surname."

    Valen''s face darkened, "I see."

    "It is possible she came from the Outer Ring."

    "Yes," concern wrinkled Valen''s brow, "but we''ll have to leave that matter for another time."

    He returned his attention to a confused Syra, "I beg your pardon, little miss, but I need to inspect your injuries." He lifted the blanket as little as possible as Kaelem turned his head.

    But Valen paused, "I thought you said her burns were severe."

    "Are blisters not severe, sir?"

    "They are, but these aren''t blisters. Look," Valen said, showing Kaelem Syra''s arm. The blisters had vanished, leaving only red, sensitive marks.

    "How is that possible? They were fresh not an hour ago."

    Valen looked closer at the burn marks. A faint glimmer around the reddened skin made his eyes widen, "You''re a Lightblood."

    "She is?" Kaelem quickly hushed himself at Valen''s scowl.

    "A what?" Syra''s little face looked up at Valen with big, worried eyes, and Valen could only sigh.

    "Syra, do you normally heal this quickly?"

    "Yes, why?" answered Syra.

    Do humans not?

    "It''s just something very special. Very few people do, and even then it takes years of study and practice."

    Syra was completely lost by this point.

    "Watch this," Valen placed a hand lightly on her arm and breathed deep. He traced curving lines up and down her arm, and light shimmered beneath his hand, sending warmth through Syra''s tiny body. Her eyes widened in awe when he removed his hand, revealing healthy, unscarred skin.

    "How did you do that?" Syra exclaimed. She had never seen humans use magic before.

    Valen hesitated and chewed at his lip, "Would you...like to learn?"

    "Yes, please!"

    This is perfect. If I could study here, I could get stronger and search the city.

    "I''ll see what I can do."

    Valen rose to his feet and turned to Kaelem, "She''ll heal on her own. Right now, I need you to fetch King Rogan."

    Kaelem hesitated, "Sir, I don''t think he''s in the right mind right no��"

    "Now is the perfect time. Go, please?"

    "Yes, sir."

    Minutes later, Kaelem returned with Rogan, half beside himself.

    "Valen, I thought you said you had this handled! What is so urgent that I had to leave my family?"

    "Her," Valen stepped aside and Rogan''s body tensed. The round, green eyes of a child spotted with burn marks drudged up a memory he was trying desperately to forget.

    "What of her? Heal her and find her family. I need to return to mine."

    "That''s just it, sir, she has no family."

    Rogan stopped.

    "She was found naked and burned with no surname," Valen said.

    "A throwaway?"

    "We believe so."

    Rogan''s jaw clenched, "Damn it, another one? I''m assuming you''d like us to take her in as well?"

    "She has nowhere else to go, sir. The safehouse is still full, and there are no free rooms at the Academy. Not until graduation at least. She will need a place to stay until her family is found."

    Rogan huffed, "And what would you do with her? Throwaway''s have very little skills."

    "On the contrary, sir. She''s Gifted."

    Rogan paused, "Gifted, you say?" He gave Valen his full attention.

    "Yes, sir. And not just that," he lowered his voice, "she''s a Lightblood."

    Rogan spun on his heels and stared down at Syra in near unbelief, "Are you now?"

    "W-what''s a ''Gifted''?" Syra asked, looking to Valen.

    "Magic, my dear. Can you use it?"

    Up until now she strained to comprehend the flurry of Altairan speech, but this word she knew, and her face brightened.

    "Oh, yes!" Pride filled her voice and she glanced over at Kaelem, "I''ve been practicing."

    "She''s been practicing," Valen repeated, turning to Rogan.

    Rogan studied his advisor, "I assume you want to enroll her into the Academy, then?"

    Valen dipped his head, "I feel she would do well."

    The men were silent as Rogan contemplated.

    "I am not strong," Syra piped up, grabbing their attention, "and I am small. But, I am smart and practice much! So please, can I stay?"

    Rogan sighed and turned away, "If she qualifies, I have no qualms with her attending. Now I ask that you leave me and my family be. At least until the funeral."

    "Thank you, sir, but there is still the issue of her family," Valen called after him.

    "Oh, right."

    Rogan clenched his jaw and stared down into Syra''s determined eyes. How was it that right after he watched one pair fade, another appeared? She was not Ethan, no matter how hard he wished those eyes belonged to his son, and that scene on the mountainside was just a stress-induced dream. But she was small and young, probably around Aidan''s age, and apparently smart and hardworking. And Gifted. If he wasn''t ridiculed for rejecting an able-and-willing child, he certainly would be for denying a Gifted person access to the Academy, let alone sending them��and their power��to a neighboring city. His wife certainly wouldn''t let him live it down.

    "We will send scouts in the morning��hopefully she has some family left to claim her."

    "You would send her back to those kind of people?"

    "Of course not! But she must have some proper lineage given her...abilities."

    "You know that''s not always the case. And��to be frank, sir��at her age, this ''family'' might not even be hers."

    Rogan''s gaze dropped to Valen''s gentle hold of Syra''s arm, "You also have no family of your own, correct?"

    Valen''s silent wince was answer enough, but he nodded. "Your point, sir?"

    "We will send the scouts in the morning with Empaths of your choosing. If they return cold, then the Academy will take her. Until then, she is your ward. She seems to like you well enough."

    "But sir, she is a young girl. Would that not be inapprop��"

    "Does your quarters not have a door? Keep her in the study��I assure you it''s more hospitible than any shack she''s been in. And like you said, it''s only until graduation."

    "But��"

    "But as for tonight..." he silenced the fumbling mage with a finger, "I will take care of it. Seeing as you''re currently preoccupied." Rogan said with a final glance about the infirmary.

    Valen relented with a heavy sigh, "Very well. Thank you, sir."

    "Please don''t thank me." Grief saturated Rogan''s low voice, "It just so happens we have an open bed tonight."

    Rogan leaned over and patted Syra''s disheveled head. She saw the pain hidden behind his eyes, and for a moment they shared a glimpse of empathy.

    "I''m sorry for your loss, little one. I hope you can find a sense of home, here."

    "Thank you," Syra said with a crack in her voice.

    Rogan turned from them and headed for the castle, "Have a medic fetch her some clothes then bring her to my quarters. I''ll take care of the rest."

    Valen bowed as he walked away, "Yes, your majesty."

 |Chapter 5| Queens Gambit

    <hr>

    9 years later

    Jovial music of string and horn and drum bantered amid the chatter of the market plaza, full and loud with twice its usual occupancy. Seared meat scented the writhing streets, adding to the acrid odor of spilt wine and mead left baking over the afternoon. The Spring Festival marked the coming of longer days and growing things, and Altaira spared no expense with its stalls and banners and voracious entertainment. People from every city and town had come to sell and buy and compete. Above them, dragonlances stood proud atop watchtowers, their black metal gleaming from a fresh cleaning.

    A mass of contestants swarmed the circular plaza already, nerves on edge for the start of the main event. A head taller than most, Aidan tapped an impatient toe, his long fingers drumming against the hilt strapped at his side.

    "Where is she?" he asked himself, scanning the crowd and brushing back the long strands of hair that clung to his misted forehead and collar. The boy had hit his growth spurt, and hit it well. Time and long practices had filled out once scrawny limbs enough for a longsword to be wielded with quick precision.

    "You sure she said she was coming?" asked a shorter, middle-aged man in simple clothes. "All the other two-bars are here. I''m going to have to start without her." Senec, the judge, had worked alongside Aidan to organize the swordplay competition, but the sinking sun pressed him for time.

    "She''ll be here. Said she was going to check out Revinia''s new cake, so she''s probably just stuffing her face."

    Senec laughed and padded Aidan firm on the shoulder, "You two really are something else. If I talked to my wife that way, I''d be in the oven instead of the bread."

    "Well, we''re not there yet," Aidan said, fiddling with a small lump in his pocket, "but that''s what today is for."

    Senec''s face scrunched and wrinkled with scheming glee and Aidan paced in his tiny bubble of space within the throng, "But seriously, where is that girl?"

    ***

    Beneath the crowds and streets and dirt and stone, the roars and music faded to mere muffles. The arched catacombs beneath the city wound on and on in cold, damp shadow, with the flicker of a tiny light dashing through its many corridors like a wisp. Attached to the light was a hand, a small hand that produced a glowing orb, and to that hand a small body of female frame and leather armor that grew ever more frustrated.

    "Where the hell is it?" Curses echoed off the vaulted tunnels as Syra lumbered through the dark with a worn and crumpled map clasped in her free hand. "I swear I''ve passed here a million times!" The map, now covered in smudged scribbles and angry doodles, showed the subterranean layout of the catacombs and Syra''s fruitless exploration of them. "What am I even looking for?" Syra barked down at the broken stone in her hand that glowed misty in the damp.

    With her innate magical and fighting skills, Syra had worked and nuzzled her way into Inner City life; indeed, despite her young age, she was top pick for council mage and dubbed Soldier a year early. And all nine of those years were spent scouring the city with this blasted stone that insisted on bringing her to the same blank wall every single time.

    She stood rigid, seething in the still silence as the fine, clear beam of light pointed, unwavering, at that blank wall.

    "Ah! that''s it!" Syra roared, ramming a fist into the wall''s mocking face and leaving it with red smears from broken skin, "I don''t know what Papa was thinking, but this is not working." She massaged her aching knuckles and flared some mana to heal them. "Damn thing is actually broken." Spinning on a heel, she left the wall and shoved the stone into a pocket. She would just have to find another way to get her answers.

    But the wall had other plans. There was spark, then a pale glimmer, then a sparkle that spiraled and grew, trailing its way from the blood smears to its rounded edges.

    Syra froze. "You''ve got to be kidding me," she said through pressed lips, hearing the scrape and rumble of moving stone. She felt her pocket warm and light again poured from the stone, this time pointing into the small alcove within the wall.

    Inside the nook, a small, broken stone sat glimmering in the beam of light. Syra pulled her half from her pocket and felt it tug towards the alcove, glowing brighter.

    "Finally," she whined a soft cry. Her legs nearly buckled and she steadied herself against the wall.

    I found it, Papa, she thought, staring at the cracked stone in the wall. Took me a while, but I finally found it.

    She took the half from the hole and held it to hers, feeling the magnetic pull from both halves. And the closer they got, the brighter they shone, until they snapped together. Light flashed and a shockwave shook through the catacombs, knocking Syra off her feet.

    By the time her hearing returned, Syra sat staring at the glowing sphere at her feet. She plucked it from the cold floor and stood, gaining her balance. The glow faded, revealing a pearl that fit snug in her palm. And that was it. No more light show, no fancy spell or invisible voice proclaiming lost knowledge. Just a simple pearl that was warm to the touch.

    "All this trouble for a bead?" Syra groaned, shoving the pearl in her pocket.

    Above her, Syra heard the rising cheer of the crowd and tensed as she remembered the competition, "Shit, I''m late!" She fumbled to read her map while dashing through the corridors, "Aidan''s never going to let this go."

    ***

    Syra''s eyes adjusted to the afternoon light as she raced through the streets, dodging merchants and little boys with toy swords. She sprinted round a corner and could hear the roar from the crowd grow as she neared the plaza. A circle had already formed and the clash of metal echoed down the cobbled street.

    "What are you looking at, you pasty-faced ape!"

    The sound of competition faded as Syra''s eyes fell on a cleanly-dressed man with ironed cape and white banners tugging at the wrist of a young nordess. By her clenched jaw and flushed cheeks anyone could tell she was pressed to restrain herself from clubbing the fellow.

    "Excuse me, sir!" Syra trotted up to the man, eyes narrowed. The barred, silver banners that hung from her cape--a mark of knighthood--wafted a warning to the sneering man and he dropped the maiden''s hand in a quick withdraw.

    "I really hope that display was not your representation of our city, Councilman." Syra leered up at him and he bit back a tinge of guilt.

    "N-not at all, Lady Syra!" He clenched his jaw and lowered his gaze to the young, but sturdy nordess, "I apologize for my lapse of character. Forgive me."

    With a curt bow, Syra nodded him away.

    "Not sure if he regrets his actions, or just getting caught." Syra mused out of earshot. She looked to the snow-complected nordess, who stood just shorter than her. "You alright?"

    "Hm," A deep breath faded her anger and reddened cheeks, "My pride will heal, I suppose. Though my knuckles still crave his jawline." She shoved a balled fist into the fur-rimmed pocket of her suede vest.

    "Ha!" A bold laugh escaped Syra''s lips, startling nearby shoppers, "I know the feeling."

    The two exchanged sympathetic grins and Syra extended a firm hand, "Syra."

    The nordess returned the gesture with a toothy smile, "Leti."

    It wasn''t rare for Nords to visit the human city, especially for trade or festivities. Syra had met a handful of the arctic-borne race during western patrols and trips to Renguard, the center of trade. They were a stocky breed, and strikingly pale; built for the arctic climate of the White Ridge Mountains. They were also a bit hairy, with their arms and temples draped in long, but soft fur.

    It was the lavender hue of Leti''s eyes that caught Syra''s attention. A rare trait that was praised amongst the typically blue-gray eyed Nords.

    No wonder her pride was hurt.

    "Tell you what, Leti," said Syra, retracting her hand, "If you get any more trouble, you have my permission to sock them in the gut."

    Leti laughed and nodded, "Will do!" She tapped a gloved fist against Syra''s shoulder, "Thanks."

    "Syra!" Aidan''s voice returned Syra''s attention to the competition, "Come on!" Aidan yelled, waving an arm.

    "Feel free to join!" Syra said to Leti before dashing off into the swarm of antsy fighters.

    "Did you raid her entire stall?" Aidan teased, plowing the way towards the judge''s table.

    I knew he wouldn''t let it go.

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "Does it matter?"

    Aidan rolled his eyes, "Don''t blame me if you''re slow."

    Aidan pulled Syra into the sanctum of the judge''s booth and handed her a quill.

    "Look who finally made it!" Senec glanced away from the fight as Syra scribbled her name on the registry, "Enjoy your lunch?"

    "Do you tell that to everyone?" Syra asked, annoyed at Aidan''s ploy to make her out as a glutton. Granted, by human standards she was.

    "Yep," Aidan said with a smirk.

    "You''re going to pay for it later."

    "I look forward to it," he said, mischief dancing on his smug face.

    "Oh, and he''s down!" Senec boomed, as a Renguardian soldier stood triumphant in the ring, ending the round. "Who could possibly challenge The Goliath of Renguard?" Senec winked down at Syra, who looked to Aidan.

    "After you," Aidan said, bowing.

    "I''ll challenge him!" Syra called out, raising a hand that was barely visible from the sea of heads.

    The crowd hushed for a moment and the sea parted for Syra to enter the ring. Her opponent, Damian, swung his sword all fancy-like, smirking at her small size.

    "Look who it is, folks!" called Senec, standing on his chair, "Lady Syra, the Bronze Valkyrie herself! What a challenger indeed! But I must remind you, this is a swordplay tournament. So, no magic allowed. Understood?"

    Syra flashed him a grin and sauntered into the plaza, drawing her shortsword into a wide stance, "I won''t need it."

    The crowd was a mass of cheers and boos, split between Altaira and Renguard. The two competitors circled each other in slow strides, analyzing the other''s gait and swordhold, trying to determine which leg to trip and what style to expect. Judging from his arrogance and broadsword, Syra simplified him to a brute soldier, but the two bars adorning his cape''s banners announced his skill in combat��she herself had two��so he must be quite nimble to move around with that bulk.

    "Is this the best Altaira can offer? This tiny woman?" Damian hooted, his friends cackling on the sidelines.

    He''s also a giant ass, Syra thought, snarling.

    "And yet you merely talk. Impressive." She twirled her sword, inviting him to move.

    Damian quieted and narrowed his gaze. Both stopped moving and the crowd waited in silence. Then he shifted his foot and the fight was on.

    They charged. Damian''s sword reared to strike. The blade came down swift, as expected, and Syra twisted, dodging the blow and ducking under Damian. She brought the hilt up under his chin, knocking him back a step and thoroughly surprising him.

    "This is a sword fight!" Damian yelled.

    "Is this not a sword?" Syra waved the hilt in the air and pointed it at him, "Again?"

    Damian growled and lunged. A quick block sent the blade colliding with the ground, chipping the stone. She pivoted and spun around him, kicking his rump and shoving him off balance. Damian reared back around, face pulsing with annoyance which only grew redder as Syra bounced on her toes, waiting.

    He took a deep breath and readjusted his grip, then bolted. Syra went to dodge but his quickened pace caught her off guard. She blocked the blow with her hilt, but strained under his weight. Seeing this, Damian bared down harder, forcing her into a crouch.

    "Not so quick now, little girl." Damian spat with a sneer.

    Syra glared but noticed his back foot brushing the ground. Twisting, she shoved his blade to the side and rolled, letting his momentum send him tumbling over her.

    He sprung to his feet and Syra rushed at him, her small feet light and quick. He brought up his sword and she ducked under and around him, slashing at his waist.

    The crowd hushed and Damian checked himself in a panic for injuries. Seeing none, he breathed in relief, causing the slit in his belt to break and his britches to fall. It was then that the two cities learned of Damian''s love of embroidered underwear. This pair had paw prints.

    She let out a genuine giggle, "Those are actually cute."

    The crowd roared in hysterics and Damian fled, tripping over his sagging pants. Syra bowed and held up her sword, inviting the next opponent.

    "Next!" called Senec.

    Round after round they fell. Until three soldiers entered the ring at once, against Senec''s whining.

    "Three against one, really?" Aidan cried from the sidelines.

    The first lunged and Syra spun around him, kicking him into a water barrel. The remaining two charged and she ducked as they rammed into each other.

    "Sure you don''t want to join?" Syra called to Aidan.

    Aidan shrugged and unsheathed his sword, "Well, if you insist."

    Back-to-back they swung and parried and dodged, knocking all three soldiers onto their butts in a pile huffing for breath. The crowd cheered Syra''s name and Aidan lifted her arm in the air.

    "Looks like we have our winner!" Senec called from his chair.

    Syra laughed through heavy breaths and went to take back her arm, but Aidan held it fast. She looked up confused but he just stood there, smiling his mischievous smile, with Senec grinning in the background.

    "What?" Syra asked.

    "You might be the queen of swords, Syra," Aidan said, loud enough for the crowd to hear, "But you still have one question to answer!"

    The crowd hushed their cheers and cries which perplexed her more.

    "What? There''s a test now?"

    She looked over at Senec by his tent, "What bullshit are you pulling, Senec?" But Senec just giggled to himself.

    From his pocket, Aidan brought out a ring. A simple, silver ring with a solitary clear stone, hung from a simple, silver chain.

    Syra froze.

    Oh shit.

    "Do you remember the first time you played me at chess?" he asked, staring down at the ring.

    "I remember beating you." Syra chuckled, her cheeks flushing from the stares surrounding her.

    "Heh, that you did. Took you all afternoon, but you did. Do you also remember what you said afterwards?"

    "Besides, ''I told you so''?"

    "You said," he continued, taking the initiative to make his point, "of all the pieces, the queen was your favorite. That she would move any distance, in any direction, to protect her king. ''She''s his sword and shield'', I believe you said."

    Syra nodded and Aidan took her cheek in a gentle hand, "I''ve seen you sleepless from nights of studying a spell, and ecstatic after mastering it. I''ve seen you stubborn and refuse to leave a duel, even when you could barely stand. I''ve even seen you sulk when you didn''t get the last slice of pie��"

    "I hadn''t had any!"

    "You had two." Aidan corrected her, continuing, "And I''ve seen you tired, cold, and covered in mud, and yet you still marched on during our battles out west. You inspire me when I''m low, and guide me when I get ahead of myself. I..." he paused to take her hand, and the lines on his forehead deepened, "I feel safe with you. You are my sword and shield, and I want you by my side as my queen piece. So, will you take my hand and become my real queen?"

    A smile consumed half her face, but no words came out.

    Become queen?

    Memories of the lair and the chanting of her clan uprooted themselves.

    But that''s so...

    "That''s so much responsibility," her words tumbled out. "I want to stay with you, but��"

    "I know," he cooed and steadied her shaking hands, "it is a lot to take on. But I will be right there with you. You can come to me with anything. Just like now, I promise."

    His words offered some comfort, but the thought of herself in the throne room��in the war room��lives hanging with all eyes on her...it made her whole body stiff.

    "Does your father know about this?" she managed to ask.

    "Of course! He''s actually the one who recommended it."

    "B-but I''m not a noble��"

    "Neither was Mother." A bittersweet pang softened his gaze and he placed a gentle hand atop her head, "Apparently, you remind him of her."

    "Why? Because I''m Gifted?"

    "No...well, maybe. But mostly because you both have a good habit of calling out my bullshit."

    Syra laughed at the memory of them both reprimanding his all-nighters.

    "She liked you, you know," he said. "Wasn''t too keen on you sneaking treats, yet she always asked to bake extra ''just in case''. Even at the end, she always asked about you��about us. So, I think she''d agree, too."

    Syra squeezed his hand and took a long, deep breath. His hand fully enveloped hers and was roughened by his sword. But it was warm and secure. His scent mingled with the sweat of the crowd, the warm stone street, the fresh blooms in the courtyard, and the spiced meats on the racks. She smiled as her nerves settled.

    This is...nice.

    But, can I really stay here? Her thoughts flew back to her clan, to her father, and to the stone nestled in her pocket. I do have the stone now, she thought with a spark of glee, that''s what Papa wanted, right? I could just take it back to the clan. Petra is probably Vayguard now, which is what she wanted anyway. Is there really any need of me now?

    She looked around at the swarm of anticipating eyes that clung to her and Aidan.

    They look happy, too.

    "What do you think?" she called to the crowd. "I would love to take this man''s hand, but he is your future king. Do I also have your support?"

    Cheers erupted and Syra warmed at the smiles that beemed back at her.

    Maybe, she thought, maybe as queen I could convince them��show them��that we''re not the monsters they imagine. If I can reinstate the treaty��even just a truce��then maybe we can fix things. She grinned, No flame necessary.

    "Yes!" Syra burst out and flung her hands to her mouth as Aidan jumped in surprise. "My answer is, yes."

    "Well, good! I''m glad you''re excited," Aidan teased and the crowd snickered with them.

    "Sorry." Syra covered her face.

    Aidan simply removed her hands and kissed her forehead, "I''m not."

    She flushed and absently shoved her forehead against his, biting her lip to mute the squeal inside her throat.

    "Easy there, little one," Aidan cooed and slid the ring onto her shaking finger. "Here," he handed the chain to her, "your turn."

    With quivering fingers, she fastened the braided chain around his neck. The crowd cheered and Aidan waited anxiously, but all she could do was stare from his eyes, to the dangling chain on his chest, to the ring on her finger.

    "You make me do everything, don''t you?" Aidan teased, cupping her face in his hand.

    "What��" She was cut off by the warm lips pressed against hers and the rich, cool scent that filled her nose. Her hearing faded briefly and even her neck was flushed by now.

    And then there was a rumble. Syra thought it her legs at first, weakened by Aidan''s display. But when Aidan pulled away with a look of concern, she knew it wasn''t her nerves. The crowd felt it, too, and whispering swam among the sea of worried faces.

    A flash of light called everyone''s attention to the horizon, far to the southwest. Streaking and arching across the sky, an aurora flashed towards them. Then the shockwave came.

    Bang!

    A boom crashed into the city, shaking the buildings. People ran and screamed, taking shelter where they could. Aidan clung to Syra and huddled on the ground to keep balance as the quake ran under them. And then it stopped, and all was quiet, and everyone looked around as if the cause were right around the corner.

    But they should have looked down. For that was where the crack started. Beneath the streets and dirt and stone, weakened by Syra''s shockwave, a crack in the archways of the catacombs grew and split and widened. And then down it came. The streets cracked and fell into the tunnels below, bringing buildings and people along with them.

    Aidan and Syra watched in horror as the collapsing street slithered towards them. They ran; everyone ran, towards the city gates away from the approaching fissure. They ran and clambered over each other, but then it stopped. The fissure halted its charge and sat there, apparently satiated, and the people relaxed.

    But Syra did not relax. She could feel, and hear, the slow crack and movement of stone.

    "Aidan," Syra whispered, her eyes watching the sound of weight shifting underground, "We need to move."

    "What''s wron��" And then Aidan saw it, too.

    One of the watchtowers leaned, unnoticed at first, and then the guards atop it screamed. The stones at its base cracked and splintered under the shift in weight. The faster guards managed to scramble down the ladder before it leaned farther, then farther still.

    "Everybody move!" Aidan cried, leaping to his feet and running to grab people from under its growing shadow.

    "Aidan, wait!" Syra bolted after him.

    He''s not going to make it.

    But his legs were long and hers were not. It came crashing. In a scream of metal and rock, it whined and fell and her legs burned as she pumped them hard against the ground. She watched Aidan grab a crying child and fling it to its mother, but there were countless others huddled beneath the falling tower.

    There''re so many.

    Syra''s eyes flashed over the surrounding crowd.

    So many watching.

    But the tower only grew larger overhead and Aidan smaller in its shadow.

    But I have to.

    With that, Syra flung herself over Aidan and the tower crashed down.

 |Chapter 6| Unveiled

    <hr>

    When the dust cleared, a mound of rubble laid sprawled in the ruined street. People gawked and cried and ran to loved ones buried underneath.

    "What happened? Did everyone escape?" Rogan called out, riding in from an intersecting street that remained intact.

    "They got caught in the collapse!" Senec said, huddling in a group by the gate wall, "Aidan''s in there!"

    "No..." Rogan said, dismounting and running to the rubble in a feeble attempt to dig out his son.

    He stopped at the sound of moving rock. The pile groaned and cracked, and Rogan threw himself back as the pile bulged and stone fragments fell away from the shimmering dome beneath it. Rogan gawked in silence as the golden barrier dissipated, leaving a large bronzed dragon crouched over Aidan and others.

    The peoples'' cheers of joy turned to shrieks when they realized what was standing over them. They scrambled out from the debris and ran. Aidan, too, ran.

    "Aidan!" Syra said, rising on weak legs, her power drained, "It''s okay, it''s me!"

    Aidan spun around, the familiar voice bigger and fuller than usual. And then he saw where it came from. His legs gave out from under him.

    "Aidan!" Rogan said, managing to catch him, "Get away from that mons��"

    "It can''t be." Aidan said, his voice weak in disbelief.

    Syra lowered her head and stared into his eyes, "It''s okay, I won''t hurt you."

    Those eyes. Green like the leaves they just picked for his father''s migraine tonic. Those eyes that he loved so much now stared at him from a scaly beast he had sworn to hate.

    "Syr��" His voice caught, acid singeing the back of his throat as he forced the bile back down.

    Syra stopped. She could smell his fear, the vomit on his breath, the ammonia from those who had pissed themselves. All eyes were on her and their silence screamed in her ears.

    "Away!" The flash of Rogan''s sword made her flinch, "Vile beast! Away with you and your stench of death!"

    Syra''s pupils narrowed, focusing on the cold glare and steel facing her. "You despise me that much, my king?"

    Rogan halted, taken aback by the smallness and familiarity in her voice.

    The crowd watched on as the giant lizard shimmered and shrank, leaving a human in its place. Rogan''s sword fell from his hand.

    "You...this whole time?"

    "I can explain!" Syra stepped forward and Rogan snatched up his sword as quickly as it fell.

    "You!" Rogan shoved its tip forward, forcing her back, "lied to me! Betrayed me!" His voice cracked.

    "Never!" she bellowed, eyes narrowed and stance firm, "I am a dragon, yes. But never have I betrayed you. I was raised as a human by your own hands and yet all you see is a mons��"

    "So I have betrayed my own kingdom by fostering an enemy?!" he grimaced.

    "I am not your enemy!"

    "You manipulated me...us...the whole goddamn kingdom, into believing you were just some innocent orphaned girl!" He wailed his sword, its blade shaking. "I took you in!" Regret stung his face and his eyes shimmered, "I sheltered you! Taught you, believed in you! I sent you to the academy when no one gave a shit about you!" He froze, swallowing the knot in his throat, his voice weak, "I gave you Ethan''s room."

    Syra watched the realization wash over him and Aidan. Watched their skin grow pale and their lips quiver. The air smelled cold and sickly. She did not want this, nor had she anticipated it.

    "Get on the horse." Rogan sheathed his sword and signaled his steed over, heaving Aidan to his feet.

    Aidan simply gawked at Syra with dead eyes, "All this time��"

    "Now!"

    Aidan mounted, his legs weak.

    "Soldiers!" Rogan called over his shoulder, "Restrain this creature until I can decide what to do with her."

    Two soldiers approach Syra with timid feet, but she lowered her head, "It''s alright." She held out her hands to be shackled, her gaze fixed on Aidan.

    Rogan placed himself between her and his son, "You are not to associate with my son any longer. Is that clear, dragon?" He let the last word rumble in his throat.

    Her eyes looked past him to the hunched figure atop the horse.

    "Is that clear!" He repeated.

    Spit splattered her cheek and she averted her gaze with a clenched jaw, "Yes, sir."

    Rogan spun on his heel and mounted behind Aidan, leaving Syra to the squad of soldiers, "Take her, then fetch me Valen. I have many words for my so-called advisor."

    ***

    The soldiers led her down the longest route through the city. Past the market and Revinia''s bakery, past the little alley book store, past the training arena, and past the academy where two familiar and confused faces watched from its windows.

    I''m sorry, Ricca...Rimmel. Looks like I won''t be graduating with you after all.

    She tore her eyes away from her friends'' concerned faces only to see her suitemate and oldest friend come charging down the main stairs.

    Oh, shit, Nelly.

    "Syra! Syra, what happened?"

    Syra stopped short but her guards tugged her forward, turning their backs to Nelly.

    "Go back to your room, miss. This one''s no longer your concern."

    "Excuse me?" Nelly''s shrill echoed off the high walls as she planted herself in front of them. "What on Erd did she even do? Surely a pocketful of cookies doesn''t warrant this."

    "It''s alright, Nelly. Just a misunder��"

    "Hush!" The guard jerked her chain and Syra lowered her head again. "And you," he glared back at Nelly, "stop interfering or we''ll get you a matching set."

    Nelly puffed her chest but Syra stepped around her, shaking her head in silent surrender.

    "Aidan''s going to hear about this!" Nelly called after them. "I''ll make sure of it."

    Syra''s chest warmed and stung at the same time.

    Thank you, Nelly.

    ***

    But the relief of Nelly''s kind words was short-lived upon entering her cell.

    "Syra!" A handmaid barely older than herself scurried into the iron-laced room in a huff. "I came as soon as Valen told me. What''s going on?"

    "Krina, I��"

    "I said, no talking!" The guard tossed her face-down onto the stone floor. "You''ll defile our language with that forked tongue of yours."

    Krina''s huffing stopped, and her face fell flat, "So it''s true. You really are...what they say you are?"

    Damn it, does everyone know now?

    Syra heaved herself from the floor to look her handmaid in the eye, "And just what are they saying I am��"

    "A dragon!" Krina''s dainty hands flew to her mouth just for the utterance. Her hands were shaking, but her gaze remained fixed with an ember of hope still alight. "They''re saying that...this whole time you''ve been...one of them."

    Syra''s stomach clenched against the words bubbling up and she only looked away.

    The room filled with Krina''s fearscent.

    "Syra?"

    Syra barely lifted her gaze from the floor, "I''m sorry, Krina."

    The ember died, and Krina''s hands fell to her side, "I see." Her face drained and her eyes clouded. "I suppose it is my own fault." Her brow furrowed. "I should''ve known. I should''ve...seen it. After all these years you''d think I''d put the pieces together."

    Oh, no no. Please don''t.

    Syra reached out at the sparkle that rimmed Krina''s eyes, "Not at all. Krina, you couldn''t have��"

    "Couldn''t have what?" Krina snarled, stopping Syra short. "Figured you out? Why, because I''m just some dumb maid and you''re this...this noble, dragon mastermind spy?" Her voice cracked but her glare held Syra fixed.

    "What? No, of course n��"

    "''Cause I saw."

    Syra raised an eyebrow, "Saw...what?"

    "You sneaking around. Off to the kitchen, or the armory, or the library when nobody was around." Krina narrowed her eyes, "And your linens, they...they only turned red recently. And once a year at that!"

    "Krina!" Syra flushed.

    "Oh, don''t ''Krina'' me. I might be��have been��a confidant, but I was still your maid. I still saw things."

    "Yes, you saw normal things. I''m a soldier��I get hungry. And mages use the library all the time. Especially when no one''s around, and it''s quiet."

    "Or maybe that''s what you wanted me to think!" Krina lurched forward, snarling. But, hearing her voice echo off the stone, she bridled herself and dug her nails into her skirt.

    "And I did. Every day. Over and over, while the pieces lay right in front of me. But, as you said, you were...you. And I just kept making excuses. No lady your size could eat that much, but you do need the energy. And you only bled after the Bud Moon, but maybe that''s a lightblood thing. And your clothes! Goodness. They always smelled...different. Like earth and stone, but never musk like the other soldiers."

    "Soldiers do train outside."

    Krina met her smirk with a flat face, "I tend after other soldiers, too, Syra. Even our armed ladies smell foul at times, but they never smell like that. And then there''s the sleeptalking��"

    "Sleeptalking?"

    Aidan never mentioned that before.

    "Or rather, sleep-singing." Krina sighed, seeing Syra''s confusion, "Every once in a while I''d hear singing from your room. Not loud, just...whispering of a melody. I thought it was just an old lullaby, until I heard the words." She sneered, "Draconic words. Bunch of garbled gibberish to me, but I''d know that throaty hiss anywhere."

    I sang in...draconic? Do I even remember any songs?

    Syra searched Krina''s face, reading the lines at her eyes: Confusion. Anger. Betrayal. Guilt twisted her gut.

    "And yet you said nothing?"

    Sorrow.

    "Like I said," Krina straightened herself, "I made excuses. I don''t know what dark magic they teach you mages, and far be it for a lowly maid to question the Gifted."

    Syra lowered her gaze, "I never meant to hurt anyone."

    "Neither did The Black One, I bet." A wry smile curled at Syra''s apparent disdain for the mention of Marrak.

    A spark flared in Syra''s chest, but she held her temper.

    I can''t really blame her��Marrak took my father, too.

    "Now strip!" Krina held out an impatient hand, "As you have betrayed our king, you are no longer privileged to wear Altairian colors or armor."

    Syra hesitated but obliged. With slow hands, she removed her cape, vest, and leggings. Even her earrings, tunic and britches were surrendered until she stood, red-faced and half-naked, shivering in the evening chill.

    Krina looked her over with a slow, critical eye, "And to think I was jealous of you. Aidan''s truly a fool to fall for you." Krina scoffed, moving to the door. "That reminds me," she paused and held her hand in Syra''s face, "the prince insisted you remove everything."

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    Syra raised an eyebrow.

    "Ev-er-y-thing," Krina accentuated, looking down at the ring glinting on Syra''s finger.

    It was Syra''s turn to go waxen as she fumbled with the metal band.

    "Any day now, dragon."

    Syra''s dead eyes watched the ring fall from her fingers into Krina''s palm. Watched her shove it greedily into her apron pocket. And watched as her once-friend closed the barred door with a screeching slam.

    "I don''t know what the king has planned for you," Krina said from over her shoulder, "and my mother would scold me for wishing harm on another person, but," she glared at Syra from the corner of her eye, "you aren''t a person, and I know plenty of guards who''d like a taste of revenge." With that, she locked the door and curtsied, "Good night, Lady Syra."

    ***

    Syra sat hunched against the stone wall of her cell, the thin fabric of her gown draped over her legs pulled tight to her chest. As instructed, Krina brought her a change of clothes, but had made sure it was of the thinnest, scratchiest material available. But the linen still smelled of soap and sunlight, and she shoved her nose into its wrinkles for any remaining comfort. She realized too late what was left in her pocket after Krina left. The pearl, the entire reason behind these last nine years, was now Draco-knows-where while she sat on death''s door.

    She squirmed in the quiet in a feeble attempt to bring feeling back to her backside. The rattling of iron echoed from the chains about her wrists. Even in shadow they shown red from where she had wracked them against the cuffs in a petty attempt to squirm out. She had tried to shift��indeed, that was the first thing she had tried��but iron defends against magic even more than brute force, and she was left exhausted without result.

    "Hey! who''s there?" There was shuffling of booted feet and the scrape of a sword being unsheathed. "State your na��what the hell?" Atop the dungeon stairs, the candlelight cast dancing shadows as the guard fought with, from what Syra could tell, nothing. And then, there was nothing. Silence, no movement. Just the guard''s heavy breathing.

    "Aye, understood."

    Syra inched away from the cell door as the sound of footsteps descended into the chamber. They drew closer, the scuffling of heavy boots echoing off the metal and stone. As they did, a light grew brighter against the bars of the adjacent cells. Not firelight. No, this light was not warm or yellow, but a deep, molten red.

    Syra stared wide-eyed at the guard looming over her. His eyes were clouded, almost dead, and misty red light shown from atop his head. The familiar, a mirage of light and dust��and in this case, butterfly-shaped��perched on his crown, its tiny legs attached to his scalp. It twitched its antennae at Syra and the guard took the keys from his belt, opening her cell door.

    Syra watched the glowing insect steer the man like a mule. With another twitch, her shackles hit the floor. She stared at the man wavering on his feet. He looked drunk, or half-asleep.

    Well, that''s convenient.

    As if to respond, the familiar fluttered. Its legs detached. And the man fell in a crumpled heap on the floor, passed out. Hovering, the butterfly drew close to Syra''s face. She flinched, feeling the light taps of its feet on her nose.

    "Come."

    Her eyes shot open and stared cross-eyed at the bug, surprised by the deep voice in her head.

    "Must follow." It darted out of the cell and towards the stairs.

    Syra didn''t take time to think, but bolted after it with a faint tap-tap of her small feet on the stone floor.

    To her surprise, the guard''s ruckus hadn''t caused a stir on the floor above. The halls were empty and the air hummed with sleep. The familiar paid no heed in its charge and Syra padded quickly after it, pausing briefly at each corner until they reached the Southeast staircase.

    Up, up, up they went until Syra''s weakened legs began to give.

    "Just where on Erd are we going?" she huffed a whisper. The familiar''s glow reflected off her ashen face that was dotted with sweat.

    "Come," it repeated, and spiraled up the staircase.

    Syra gritted her teeth against the burning in her thighs and pressed on, pulling on the handrail for support.

    They stopped at the South Arch, the breezeway leading to the South Plaza and connecting the East and West Wings.

    "Follow," it commanded, leading her down the window-lined hallway.

    But she stopped as they neared the plaza. Beyond a window, tiny lights flickered from the infirmary despite the moonset.

    That many? Damn it, I should be there. I need to��

    "Come," said the familiar again, this time with a hint of frustration. "Need to come."

    Syra gritted her teeth against the pang in her chest, but pulled herself away from the window, "I''m sorry."

    Three guards stood watch over the plaza garden, and the familiar paused at the edge of the breezeway. Syra gripped at the wall as her legs gave from under her. She held her breath but the tapping of bootsteps only grew louder.

    Shit. How am I supposed to fight when I can barely run?

    But his approach stopped short, and she released her breath just in time to watch, in horror, as the familiar dashed into the plaza.

    "Run."

    The speck of light darted about the plaza, drawing the guards after it in a confusing game of chase.

    But Syra took the opening and sprinted across the plaza towards the opposite breezeway.

    "Wait, over there!" One guard caught her shadow and rounded on her.

    "Stop!" The guard boomed, latching a large hand onto her arm and wrapping an arm around her neck. She strained but he was a rock. "Where do you think you''re going?" He pulled at her chin to see her face, and she felt him flinch. "You!"

    She couldn''t fight. Not in this condition. But she didn''t have shackles anymore, either.

    "Surprise!" Syra gave a weak mew and planted a hand against his forehead, channeling mana like a cloud into his head. His grip loosened and his eyes rolled, collapsing on the ground dead asleep. "Sorry, Phillip."

    Syra ran onwards but a bolt of lightheadedness made her stumble. Her vision blurred and she staggered to grab the breezeway wall. The guards'' voices muffled in her ears, and she strained to see the familiar through tunneled vision.

    The two guards chased the red dot in circles, swinging at empty air.

    "Goddamn pixie!" A guard pivoted on his heel, bringing down his sword quick and true, splicing the apparition in half.

    "No!" Syra squeaked, her vision finally clearing.

    His sword hadn''t yet left its target when the two remaining halves exploded into a cloud of dust, surrounding the two guards. It swirled around them as if blown by strong winds, making them cough. And then they fell, one after the other, asleep.

    The dust calmed and settled near the ground, retreating from the guards like a serpent towards Syra. Then it continued into the breezeway and down the hall without a sound.

    "Come."

    Down the breezeway and up the Southwest staircase they went. Up one story, then up some more, until they reached the floor just below the aviary. Syra could smell their scat, and dust, and the rotted half-eaten mice the caretaker missed while cleaning.

    She hastened down the hallway of rooms, flat-footed and slower this time. Her head was still dizzy and her breathing shallow. She didn''t even notice who''s room she stopped at until the door was already open.

    "Good evening, Syra," Valen said, standing over an herb-ladened desk and brewing a fresh pot of tea. The familiar slithered up desk and disappeared into one of his many jars. "Come and sit."

    Syra nearly collapsed right there in the doorway. The warmth from the small but kindly fireplace, and the scent of smudged parchment and herbs sent a wave of relief that weakened her knees.

    Valen''s study. A cluttered but comfortable room attached to his sleeping quarters, and one filled with memories of winter naps and long afternoons under his personal tutoring. Even her globular attempt at a glass dragon still perched atop his mantle.

    "Close the door, please," Valen said as she entered the room. "There is little moonlight left and much to discuss. I don''t want to be disturbed. Oh, and take that cloak right there, the blue one." He pointed to a luxurious blue cloak with silver stitching around its border, "It''s a tad nippy still, and I''d like to consider myself a gentleman."

    Syra raised an eyebrow to Valen''s averted gaze, but flushed as soon as she realized just how thin her gown indeed was.

    "Thank you," she said, draping the cloak over herself and pausing to note its quality. "Talian silk?"

    "Yes," Valen said with a grin, bringing over the pot and cup to the small table by the sofa, "a gift from a friend long ago. I was going to give it to you after the tournament as a congratulatory gift, but..." he sat, recalling the events of earlier, "I couldn''t seem to find a good time."

    "It''s beautiful, thank you," she said, taking her usual spot next to him.

    "You look horrible," he said, studying her sallow face and clammy skin. She was shaking at this point and darkness ringed her eyes. She even smelled sick.

    "No shit." Syra half-joked. The familiar atmosphere had lowered her guard and the tears began to well up. "My fianc�� just dumped me, my friends probably hate me now��Krina certainly does��and Rogan probably wants to send my head home as a warning."

    Valen steadied her shoulder, "That is not what he wants, trust me. His mind isn''t that far gone."

    "Not like it matters anyway," she muttered to herself, "the pearl''s go��" her seizing gut interrupted her as a flux of acid jetted up her throat.

    "Oh, dear." Valen snatched an empty flower pot just in time for her to wretch.

    "I can''t go back without the pearl." Her voice cracked and her hands shook against the pot''s rim.

    "Pearl?" Valen asked, placing the pot aside and handing her a small cloth.

    "Y-yes," she stammered, realizing she had probably said too much, "It was a...gift from my father." That wasn''t a lie. "The last thing I got from him before he..." she trailed off and wiped her mouth with the cloth.

    "I see. Well, lost things usually turn up sooner or later."

    Syra simply hugged her knees and her gaze seemed to travel elsewhere.

    "But, that''s not what I was talking about." Valen returned to his desk, "Yes, your current situation is...upsetting. But it is not the cause of the sickness I see here." He opened a drawer and drew out a wide, wooden box. "You haven''t been drinking your tea, have you?"

    She flinched, "Because they never have the purple ones!"

    Valen''s face fell flat.

    "What? They taste better."

    He bit back a small grin and handed her the box of mana stones, "Mana is mana, regardless of color."

    "Says the man who hordes the red ones." Syra snickered as she pulled out the sole purple stone from among the stash of red malphic crystals.

    It was his turn to flinch.

    "They were on sale," he stammered, opening the tea pot and straining the string of aromatic leaves with practiced precision. "Plus, you know amec are hard to come by these days."

    Syra''s gut tightened remembering the dragon-trade ban, "Yet it wasn''t even our fault."

    A drop of tea fell onto the table as Valen watched her shrink back.

    "No, it wasn''t," he said, placing the leaves on a saucer. "But worrying about it now won''t bring your strength back. Here," he took the crystal from her hand and dropped it into the pot. It glowed then flickered, the color leeching from the crystal and dying the water a pale lavender. He poured the purple tea into her cup, "Now drink. Shapechange requires a good deal of mana and you will eventually run out, even with your capacity."

    She absently brought to cup to her lips, but then hesitated. Her eyes locked onto his, "Why are helping me?"

    His gaze softened, "Drink first. It''s not poisoned, I promise."

    She sniffed the steam anyway. Even without her medic training, there was only one toxin that could fell a dragon, and its scent was unmistakable.

    "Fine." A sip was all that was needed to feel its effects. She felt warmer immediately, and more alert. The cup was empty in a few gulps.

    "Again," Valen said, refilling the cup.

    "You never answered my question." Syra said, peering over the rim.

    Valen paused, mentally preparing himself for what he had to say.

    "Aye." He turned and grabbed a dagger from a drawer, pricking his finger. He pressed the bead of blood to the space of wall above his desk. Syra watched, stunned, as light spiraled from his finger forming a tree-like emblem.

    "Sylvani?" Syra asked, recalling the map in her old den. "That''s the Sylvani crest. Why...how are you using it?"

    When the light faded a small nook in the wall was left behind.

    "Who do you think taught me magic in the first place?" He shuffled around the mirror and various trinkets within the nook and brought out a wooden box. "Dragons aren''t the only race allowed to study at the Sylvani library, at least with permission. I studied under Alder as an adept, so I learned a few dragon tricks along the way."

    Syra almost snorted her tea, "Alder? As in, the Alder of Heartwood?"

    "Aye," Valen sat and opened the box, revealing a map, a silver ring, and a slew of ripped-out book pages. "He is the one who told me of Marrak''s plan...and of you."

    Syra froze at Marrak''s name.

    "Syra, I need you to listen closely because I''m going to be brief." He laid out the book pages, all covered in faded ink and illustrations. "You remember the Battle of Dorrak?"

    "The one that killed the dwarves, right?"

    "Yes, that one. Remember how Gurn caused the landslide with that enchanted hammer of his?"

    "Y-yes, why?"

    "Well, it wasn''t enchanted. He was just that strong."

    Syra paused in thought, "That makes no sense. How��"

    "Because he used these," Valen slid one of the pages over to Syra. Drawn out was a picture of five crystal shards mounted into an elaborate altar. "Amec, Syllic, Malphic, all mana crystals we are all familiar with, but these!" he pounded his finger on the image, "these are different."

    He shoved yet another page in front of her, "They''re all of them! All three types in one��inclusions, if you will. And they''re powerful, too powerful."

    He stared forlorn at the image of the altar, "With Dwarven fire and hammer smelt, an altar to alter all damage dealt. The gods of metal and gods of stone, forged a warrior never before known."

    "Catchy." Syra mused, but Valen remained stern.

    "He became invincible, Syra. Nothing could kill him, and one swing leveled a city. We still can''t even build there. All from using adept-level alchemy and those crystal shards. That, Syra," he stared straight into her, "is what Marrak is after."

    Syra was speechless. The dragon who threatened her clan, attacked this city, and killed her father was about to become even more powerful.

    "Can he do it?"

    "Of course he can, he''s an archmage. Studied under Alder, just like me." Valen paused, regret light on his tongue, "But that''s why you''re here."

    "Me?" Syra exclaimed, "I''m still a wyrmling, and an apprentice at that. How��"

    "Technically, you''ve already graduated."

    "Come again?"

    Valen paused to dislodge the gold hoop from his ear and set it on the table. "Another gift I was going to give you earlier. Congratulations."

    "T-thank you?" she stammered, battling between fear and elation. "B-but that doesn''t make much difference, now does it?"

    "Not without help, it doesn''t." Valen now took out the ring��a silver band engraved with looping knots that formed a five-petal flower with a tiny green gem at its center. "This is the mark of the Kesh Raza, and this," he added, grabbing the map, "is where to find them."

    Valen unrolled a map detailing all the realms of Tairon, with certain cities and towns donning small stars.

    "Those crystals in that picture, there, were collected after the altar was destroyed. The Kesh Raza vowed to protect those crystals and keep them from ever being misused. These stars," he said, pointing to the map, "mark their location."

    Valen stopped and calmed himself, seeing the overwhelm washing over her face.

    "Syra, I know it''s a lot. But, that tremor we felt today? It wasn''t an earthquake. You saw that aurora, you felt that shockwave. That was Marrak. Somewhere south of here, he has already remade that altar, and he already has the first shard��Lord knows where he got it." He sighed and placed a firm, affectionate hand atop Syra''s head. "I''ve already contacted the Kesh Raza. They know you''re here, and they''re standing by to help." He assured her with a light grin, "You''re not alone in this." He paused for a moment before adding, "This is why Rigel sent you here."

    Syra snapped to attention, "You knew my father?"

    "Indeed I did. And your mother, too, a long time ago." He sat up and reached into his pocket, "How else would I have known what this was?"

    Out of his hand rolled the pearl, shiny and undamaged, but now hung about a leather chord. "I hope you don''t mind the alterations. I figured it''d be easier to carry this way."

    Tears filled Syra''s eyes and she clutched at the necklace as if it would vanish like smoke, "Sooner or later, huh?"

    He chuckled. "Here, let me," Valen offered, draping the chord over her neck, "Not a bad fit, actually."

    "But how?" Syra managed to squeak between semi-controlled sobs.

    "That Krina girl seemed very pleased to be rid of your clothes. Didn''t ask a single question. Though I think she kept your earrings, sorry to say." He pointed to the two empty piercings on the cartilage and lobe of her left ear.

    A scratchy laugh escaped Syra''s lips, "Let her." She picked up the gold hoop from the table and attached it to the top hole, "I got this one."

    "So, you''re up for the mission, I take it? We can count on you?" Valen stood and held out a proud hand.

    "Do I really have a choice?"

    Valen''s gaze turned surprisingly seriousness, "You always have a choice."

    True, but not a good one. It''s not like I can go back to the clan now. Not with Marrak on the move. And even if I did, Petra would certainly go hunting for him, and I can''t get them involved. She''d probably bite my head off before I even got to the lair.

    She paused at the image of the lair''s entrance, with her father towering and radiant in the sunset, and she gripped hard at the pearl hung about her neck. It was still warm, and offered a calming comfort to her clammy hands.

    "If this is what my parents wanted, then yes. I am," she said, finally, standing and taking his hand.

    Valen''s smile was the brightest she could remember, and he pulled her in tight. His chin rested lightly atop her head, and his fingers fiddled absently at her long braid that matched his.

    "You''ve come such a long way," he cooed, pulling her braid over her shoulder. "I remember when I had to braid this for you. And now, you''re weaving spells of your very own. I know it''s expected coming from a mentor, and I probably say it too much, but...I am truly proud of you, Bug. You''ve done well, and this won''t be an exception."

    And there it went. The last shield in her defense. She let the words soak into that small hole inside her as she clung tight to his side. Valen just stood there, accepting it and patting her tiny head like ''the fuzzlebug that couldn''t sleep''. Like her first day at Academy. But instead of sending her off to classes, he was sending her off to war. Again.

    "It''s going to be alright, I promise. And once this is all over, I''ll have Revinia bake an entire cake just for us. We can even have tea down at the pond and I''ll tell you all about my time in Heartwood."

    Syra''s chest warmed at the promise of returning to their old meeting spot. The addition of sweets and stories only made her grin wider.

    "You promise?"

    Valen hooked an index finger around hers, "Promise. Just you wait, tomorrow everything will be different. A good different. I''ve even taken the charge of notifying Cassius and Petra for you."

    All warmth left Syra''s chest as her body tensed.

    "You what?" Syra said flatly, her voice muffled by his shirt.

    "I sent them a raven earlier. They should be meeting you sometime tomorrow afternoon." Valen leaned over to see Syra''s face frozen and ghastly pale, "You have been keeping up with them, yes?"

    Syra could barely shake her head and gripped tighter at Valen''s shirt.

    "Oh dear," he chuckled, patting her on the shoulder, "this should be an entertaining reunion."

 |Chapter 7| Reunion

    <hr>

    Pale dawn fell over Syra thumbing at the two slips of parchment in her hands. Her cheeks were rosier, but anxiety pulsed in her fingertips as she traced the runes scrawled across the spelltags Valen had given her.

    Petra and Cassius should meet you on the way to Landelle, he had said before they parted, Place these on their chests before you arrive. It will make the trip easier.

    She had done well in her runic studies, but she struggled to discern the archaic script further than, ''dragon'', ''human'', and ''so says I''. The latter obviously referring to the blood-stained thumbprint used to power the spell.

    She slid the tags into her pocket with a sigh. Valen had brought her new clothes as a promise to bargain for a lighter sentencing, but despite her trust in her mentor, she also knew Rogan to be a stickler for the law, and she had broken more than that.

    Syra started at the sound of the lock clinking and felt her stomach lurch at the sight of a stoic, but pale, Aidan standing in the doorway. Whether out of instinct or raw nerves, she shot from her seat with outspread arms. But they met empty air as he faltered back a pace. Syra froze a moment, her hands quivering inches from his averted gaze.

    "Here," he said, his voice a tad hoarse, and held out a backpack, widening the gap between them, "Valen sent this for you."

    "Um, thanks," she said with slight hesitation, taking the pack and examining its contents.

    "That should be enough to reach Landelle," he said, peering down at Syra''s tight grip on the canvas bag.

    She picked at loose strand and gave him a weak smile, "Thank you, Aidan."

    "You can thank Valen, not me," Aidan said turning away.

    "Wait!" Syra said, starting after him, "I��"

    "I have nothing to say to you," he snapped over a stiff shoulder.

    "Nothing? I might be executed today and you have nothing at all to say?"

    There was a paused as his jaw tensed.

    "Why?" he finally asked, unmoving and eyes distant, "Why didn''t you tell me?"

    "You really think I could? With how everyone sees us? How your father sees us? You''d certainly never look at me the same. You''d hate me...just like now."

    "I deserved to know the truth," he said low, leering down at her, anger and pain swirling behind his eyes. "And you know, that''s not even the worst part."

    "W-what do you mean?"

    His jaw tensed, "You accepted my proposal. You accepted it knowing full well that you''d be lying not just to me, but to everyone. You were willing to lie to everyone��everyone that I''m trying to protect��and for what? Your own agenda? Your own ego?" He scoffed down at her, "Catching yourself a prince? Oh, I bet that felt good: riding the human prince like some damn party pony."

    "That''s not it at all! Not completely, at least."

    "Oh, no? Well, then spare some truth for once."

    "I did come here with a mission, but it''s not what you think. It''s not to spy or anything like that��it''s to...well, it''s complicated. But I swear to Aranida it wasn''t to hurt you, or anyone! If anything, I...I was scared of losing you." She cringed internally at the irony.

    Aidan laughed, "And how''d that turn out?"

    "I didn''t mean to hurt you, I swear! I just��"

    Aidan raised a hand for silence, "I got my answer. Now get ready. The guards are on their way to fetch you for the sentencing."

    He locked the door behind him but paused, "Goodbye, Syra."

    Syra braced herself against the door as her legs slowly gave from under her, her ears filled with the sound of his fading footsteps and her stifled wail.

    ***

    It wasn''t the presence of the hooded undertaker that sent chills across her skin, but the miasma that steamed from the burning eyes of the people gathered below the castle''s main stairway. The old bookstore owner, the tea merchant and his boy, even Revinia all stared up in confused rage. Rage at all they had lost. Rage at that, somehow, their loss was caused by the young woman standing in front of them. Rage at that same young woman being an infernal beast that deceived their trust and adoration.

    If she was completely honest, she couldn''t blame them. Daybreak revealed the damage to be more severe than expected. A full third of the market district was rubble and citizens were still being pulled from collapsed buildings. Even the air stung of ash from the smoke clinging to smoldering piles of debris.

    I wonder how Nelly and them are doing. Aidan must''ve said something to them��Nelly would''ve ensured that. But I don''t see them. Damn, they must really hate me now��

    The crowd hushed as Rogan descended the stairs with a silencing hand. Syra turned to face him, but her head was forced low by her guard''s iron grip.

    "I see Valen still harbors trust in his scaly friends," Rogan hushed, noting her attire and backpack. "Some people never change."

    He faced his audience with a stern brow.

    "Citizens of Altaira!" Rogan began with a hearty roar, "I am sure you have heard the rumors. And it pains me to confirm them." He glanced briefly at Syra''s bowed head, "It has come to my attention that our beloved city has yet again been betrayed. Not by another kingdom, or even by a neighboring city. No," pain softened his voice as his gaze traced the woven strands of hair he once watched Valen braid with fatherly delight, "but by one of our own. Or at least, what we thought was one of ours."

    Whispers mingled among the crowd and Rogan cleared his throat, "Nine years ago, I welcomed a young girl into our Academy. One thought to have been orphaned in the dragon attack...a throwaway."

    The crowd simmered with unease at the mention of the taboo.

    "But she was Gifted. Quite gifted, indeed, as you''ve seen yourselves over the years. This is no doubt because our own Master Valen saw promise and took her in. All in hopes that she would one day bless our kingdom as a powerful mage. And she did."

    Pride whispered through the crack in his voice, "She excelled through the academy, healed countless soldiers on the western front and many of you on occasion. She even challenged Erdenir, the Wyrmulence himself. And for that was made Soldier a whole year early!" Rogan boomed with a chuckle of near disbelief and held out a hand for validation from Orlek, the captain of the guard and Syra''s superior. The half-nord merely gave a disheartened nod, eyes unable to look at his previous pupil.

    "No one expected it from one so young. And from a throwaway at that. Our precious Bronzed Valkyrie: ''the girl who tamed the western dragons''." His eyes narrowed and bored into her, "But now I have to question if she ''tamed'' them at all, or if she simply struck a deal with them. For it turns out that this mage��this...witch, is nothing but a serpent in human clothing! A beguiling shapeshifter!"

    The plaza rang with fury and Rogan let his words come firm and distinct, "A dragon."

    Roars of, ''Spy!" and Traitor!'' permeated the thick atmosphere and the undertaker fidgeted with his blade. Syra''s guard didn''t need to hold her head; she let it fall herself.

    So much for my special mission.

    "I hear your anger!" Rogan held up his hands for silence, "I truly do. I too am angry, and disgusted, and hurt...and if this were a simple matter of laws broken, then it would surely be a swift execution." He paused, glancing up at the window where Aidan stood watching, "But simple it is not. As many of you witnessed during the tragedy yesterday, this...beast, this... lizard broke her illusion to save your lives. And one of those lives was my son''s."

    There was a boiling over of protests and spitting, but Rogan spoke on, "I know your anger demands blood, as does mine! But that debt has already been paid, in blood not spilt."

    The crowd was in outright confusion at this point. Unsure whether they should be angry or sad, or whether to sling their feces in Syra''s general direction.

    "That beast''s life doesn''t count for shit!" One man bellowed, spit flying from his reddened face.

    "And if I acted on that, then we''d all be just as bad as them!" Rogan snapped, then sighed. He gave Syra one last, forlorn glance, "Just a bunch of creatures with no code."

    "A life for a life: that is my decision!" Rogan said, rounding on Syra who was made to stand upright.

    "Syra Ferra��no, Syra Montari, for the crime of treason you are hereby banished from the Kingdom of Altaira and all its principalities! From this point on, you will have no title and be harbored by no citizen. Should you return, I will revoke my compassion and you will be executed with haste. Is that understood?"

    Syra avoided his gaze, but thought she caught the swelling of tears about his stern eyes, "Yes, sir."

    "Take her to the gates," Rogan commanded of his guards.

    "I know it doesn''t count for much, but," Syra said meekly as she passed him, "...thank you."

    Rogan fought against the knot in his throat and Syra craned her head towards the castle''s western tower where Aidan stood with Valen overlooking the procession.

    Goodbye, Aidan.

    ***

    Sun-high brought a comforting breeze and Syra had stopped to rest with the bread and dried venison Valen had graciously included. Despite the events of yesterday, the road to the capital was still bringing in guests, mostly merchants and performers hoping to capitalize on the festivities. None of which seemed to give Syra much notice.

    Word must''ve not reached town yet, she thought.

    From her seat astride a felled trunk, the crystalline spear of the Transpoint glinted through the canopy. Carved from the heart of a large meteorite, the mossy-green monolith shone from its austrum bindings in multi-faceted glory as a triumph of human alchemy��Altaira''s own "Star at River''s End" and breakthrough in transportation. Or, at least for those who could afford it.

    That sure would make the trip much easier, she thought.

    But her pockets were empty and transpoint shards were especially pricey nowadays.

    She was halfway debating stowing away in a caravan when a rumbling came through the earth and the air thickened with a low hum. A violet light grew from within the Transpoint, radiating in prisms and spiraling outwards. A burst of light and wind followed the appearance of a small cart guarded by three roughly dressed men.

    "Good god, that was horrible," One man of grizzled beard said, his face paling and bracing himself on the cart.

    "Quit yer bellyaching," said his burlier comrade, tossing a metal compact into the cart and flexing his singed hand, "You didn''t have to hold the blasted thing."

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    "I told you to wear gloves. But did you listen? No," the third and scrawnier man mocked.

    "Shut it, Grant. It was your fault we had to use this thing in the first place. Waste of rali if you ask me."

    "At least we got away from that old hag," Grant said, checking the contents of the cart for damage, "We should get a hefty return on all this magical shit."

    "Hope you got something for a sour stomach," Han said through gags.

    "Hey! No yacking on the merchandise!" Reese yelled and shoved Han away from the cart just in time for him to retch. "When you''re done, help us push."

    Reese took up the yolk and Grant heaved at the rear, but the cart did not budge. Even with Han''s added grunt, the wheels refused to turn and dug a deeper trench the harder they shoved.

    Syra watched them struggle with curious intent.

    Maybe if I help them I can get a ride.

    "Excuse me!" Syra said, stepping out from the treeline, "Did you need some help?"

    The men appeared startled at first and hesitant to answer, simply whispering amongst themselves.

    They''re probably just uneasy, she thought, I did just show up out of nowhere.

    "The wheels," she called, nearing them with slow steps, "there could be something jammed in there. I could take a look and see what I can do." She offered a polite grin to the gruff fellows overlooking her. But their confusion didn''t last long when Reese caught the glint of the gold hoop adorning her upper ear.

    "Oi, yer a mage!" said Reese, pointing to the earring, "Didn''t catch that at first."

    "O-oh...yes!" Syra stuttered. She didn''t technically have the title anymore, but that didn''t mean she couldn''t use her skills. "I thought perhaps I could try to mend anything that might have broken."

    "Well aren''t you the kindly type," Reese mused, exchanging silent words between his partners, "Whelp, go on ahead an'' see what you can do. Don''t let an old feller like me stop a mage from workin''."

    "Shouldn''t take that long," Syra said, kneeling down beside the wooden wheel and examining the spokes and rigging with dainty fingers, "These carts don''t take much to figure out."

    "Is that so?" Reese pried, giving a nod to Han who took to searching the cart with quiet efficiency.

    "Yeah," she said, finding nothing that obstructed the wheel directly and crawling under the carriage to check the back wheels, "I''m no smith, but I figure if I can understand it, then it has to be pretty simple."

    When Syra disappeared from view, the men faked laughter and Han tossed a bundle of rope to Reese.

    Syra suspected nothing until she was by the rear and caught a faint whispering hidden by the men''s voices.

    "Hey!" It called from above her, "You need to run!" The tiny voice sounded muffled and she strained to hear.

    "What?" she hushed back.

    "It''s a trap. You need to run. Fast! Go now while they can''t see you."

    Syra stopped to rationalize the voice and what kind of ploy she had gotten herself into, but she had paused too long.

    "You alright under there, little mage?" Reese called.

    "Yes, just fine!" she said, returning from thought, "But I was wrong--it''s that back wheel. The joint snapped. I can fix it, but I''ll need my supplies." She lied, hoping to make a quick exit. But they were prepared for her when she crawled out from under the cart.

    Seeing the men hovering over her, Syra sprung from underneath the cart, sliding under Reese. She managed to dodge his hooked arm, but that brought her careening into a waiting Han. Strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and she felt her feet leaving the ground.

    In an instant, Syra slammed her feet against the road, rocketing her head up into Han''s chin. He stumbled back with a groan but kept his grip, albeit looser now. Syra reared her legs upward then shoved then downward, tugging on his arms and pulling him down with them. The change in momentum caught him off-guard and he tumbled forward over Syra who ducked and sprinted away.

    "Oh no, you don''t!" Grant spat, grabbing the rope from Reese and speeding after her.

    Syra''s legs pumped against the hard-packed dirt, but the thud of long legs quickly closed in.

    Damn it! She veered off sharply into the trees. Maybe she could lose him in the brush.

    Her feet danced and leaped over logs and around thickets of briar. She heard him curse the low-hanging branches as his pace slowed. But they were soon joined by the heavy beats of two others on either flank.

    Shit, they''re gonna cut me off!

    Ahead was her one chance: a stream too wide to jump, but with one lone, narrow log stretching its breadth.

    That''ll never hold their weight, she thought, forcing herself to push past the burning in her thighs.

    The bandits seemed to catch on to her ploy as Reese and Han angled their approach directly towards the woodland bridge. But she was nearly there. She could soar across that log in three quick steps and they would be sent crashing into the frigid water below.

    Almost there...almost there, she chanted through strained breaths.

    The encroaching men blurred into the greenery as she made her last strides to safety. It was in her last leap that a tawny line stretched across her vision, quickly followed by a stinging across her gut and an abrupt halt that flung her onto her back. The rope, she realized, coughing back the breath she had lost.

    "Tie ''er up!" Reese commanded with reddened face, "Tightly now, bitch made me break a sweat."

    Syra spun to her feet, but Han had her pinned under his bulk and Grant''s hands worked fast to bind her arms to her sides. In a desperate move, Syra hunched over and surged burning mana through her hands trying to ignite the rope. But the warm glow merely fizzled around the bindings. She froze in shock and confusion.

    The trees echoed Reese''s laughter, "Don''t waste your energy! That rope is pure Arrun fiber. You might as well be bound in iron."

    In her current state, Syra could only recall the material being used to hunt magical creatures.

    How befitting, she thought with a sneer.

    She struggled against the ropes, but only managed to scrape up her skin against its rough fibers, "What do you want with me, anyway?"

    Reese sneered down at the squirming girl, "Rali, of course! I know plenty of backalley folks itchin'' to get their hands on a mage. This one alchemist I know," he crouched with his face inches from hers, "he can make all kinds of potions from the mana sucked out of ''em. Strength, healing, even youthfulness given the right...donor. And, as it turns out, the younger the better! Ain''t that just fascinating?" Reese feigned bewilderment and gave her cheek a rough pinch. "I''m sure he''ll pay a pretty coin for you."

    "Speakin'' of pretty..." He examined her face with a firm grip on her chin, "You got a nice face, but," his eyes traced her toned but petite frame in disappointment, "only that ass would be worth grabbin''."

    Syra yanked her head away, but her spunk only made him laugh.

    "No matter, that''s just my opinion. There are plenty others who prefer them kiddish anyway. And, frankly, you''ll probably get passed around to the lot of them. But only just long enough for your reserves to replenish, and then it''ll be right back to the alchemist to be drained all over again." He gave a wry grin and patted her head, "Just thought you ought to know beforehand."

    Syra''s chest burned.

    Is that true? Are there alchemists that would really do such horrid things?

    "You''re lying," she hissed through gritted teeth. "No true alchemist would involve themselves in such dealings. They have a code. And honor. Unlike you fuc��"

    "Oh, you poor little fool," Reese cooed. "Indeed there are. Otherwise, there''d be a lot more throwaways out there." He let reality sink in a bit, relishing her wide-eyed expression, before turning to Han, "Gag her."

    Han took a small bottle from his pocket and poured a clear liquid out onto a cloth. Grant held Syra tight against him, despite her squirming, and Han wrapped the cloth around her nose and mouth.

    With one breath her eyes flashed green, her pupils flickering between slits and circles. She screamed. Her lungs burned. Her body stung and seized. Her scream became a hoarse roar that faded like a spark as her limbs went limp. She couldn''t feel her fingers...toes...or legs, and within a minute her whole body was numb and her head fuzzy. Sound left her ears and she fought against the blackness swarming her periphery. The last visage left to her was that of a bronze coin hung about Reese''s tattooed neck.

    ***

    The cackling of men''s banter, along with a dull soreness and dry mouth, roused Syra to consciousness. The road was gone. Only brush and trees surrounded them, with the faint trace of a narrow trail beginning to be overgrown.

    Syra picked up the scent of stale mutton as her senses returned to her. Her breath froze within her chest, seeing her capturers just feet away as the memories came rushing back.

    Where are we? She thought in a panic, looking about, How late is it? She needed to reach Landelle by nightfall, but now sunlight shown gold through the treetops and she had lost her sense of direction.

    "Well look who''s awake?" Grant said, causing Syra to jump, "That didn''t take long."

    "No, it didn''t," said Reese a tad disappointed, "Quite sturdy, that one. We''re just gonna have to use the whole bottle. Han!" he motioned for Han to take care of things before returning to his meal.

    Han said nothing while pulling the small bottle again from his pocket, his face still a slight pale.

    He must still be recovering from his trip through the Transpoint, Syra thought with a spark of hope. Some people never took well to it. She used his sluggishness as an opportunity to get her feet up under herself, using a tree for support as her arms were still bound.

    "Not this again," Han said with a sigh of exasperation.

    Syra sprung away from him, but her legs were weak and shaky and she stumbled after a few paces. Han was quickly upon her and grabbed her by the braid, yanking her backwards. She pulled against his grip and heard several strands snap. But his hand found her face and forced her head back into his chest.

    "Quit squirming!" Han commanded, retrieving the cloth with his free hand.

    "Suck a toad!" Syra hissed, latching her teeth around his hand and clamping down. Han screamed and she tasted metal.

    "You little cunt!"

    Han recoiled but hooked his arm around her neck, jamming his elbow up under her jaw and wrapped his legs around her waist, "Just shut up and take it!" He spat, pouring the remaining liquid into the cloth.

    Retracting from the musky wad, she did the only thing left to do. She screamed. Not a shrill shriek of fear, a roar. A throat-burning call-to-arms amplified by all the mana she could afford.

    I might not be able to burn these ropes, she thought, but ropes can''t bind sound.

    Flocks fled their perches and Han flinched from the blow to his eardrums.

    "What the hell are you doing?" Reese yelled, plugging his own ears, "Knock ''er out already!

    "I''m trying!"

    Syra used his weakened hold to slam the back of her head, once again, into his face. This time she heard the distinct snap of a nose.

    "Bloody hell!" Han bellowed, releasing Syra as his hands flew to his swelling snout.

    "Don''t let ''er g��" said Reese, in time to watch Syra bolt from Han''s grip, "Damn it!"

    Syra was about to duck into a thicket when she noticed the shining of metal on one side of the cart. Swords! If she could get a hold of one, then it would be a fair fight.

    She doubled back, leading her pursuers into low-hanging foliage and headed straight for the short sword that glinted as if beckoning.

    "Get yer ass out of my face!" Reese berated Han who had to stoop to clear the spiny arches of briar.

    Syra crouched with her back to the blades, slicing at the rope. Time slowed as she felt the strands snap one by one. Just...a few...more. She hurried as they broke through the vegetation and bared down on her.

    Then there were hoof beats, and the grazing of metal. And Syra watched as the men fell backwards away from the rearing hooves of the chestnut stallion beside her. Its rider, cloaked with hood, pointed a steady blade.

    "Back off." It commanded, and Syra faltered. She knew that voice.

    "Like hell we will!" Reese said, finding his footing, "Our catch, our prize!" He drew his own sword, a basic blade of little refinement.

    The figure dismounted with a nimble landing. As it did, Syra caught a glimpse of its face from under the hood.

    "Ai��" The clash of swords cut her off.

    With a quick shove, Aidan knocked Reese some paces back then knelt to sever the rest of the rope. "Let''s go," he said, their eyes meeting.

    Syra leapt to her feet and drew the short sword, finding comfort in its weight and leather handle.

    Back-to-back they fought, swerving, twisting, and jabbing in continuous motion, their breath and footsteps music to a dance well-rehearsed. Round in circles they went. The clearing rang with grunts and yowls, and the meeting of metal against metal, cloth, and skin.

    "Leave. Now," said Aidan through controlled breaths.

    Reese stood huffing on an injured leg, blood soaking through his britches and sleeves where Aidan''s blade had sliced, "No."

    Aidan widened his stance and tightened his grip on his sword, eyes fixed on Reese, "Last chance."

    "H-hey Reese, m-maybe we should just cut our loses," said Grant, leaning heavily on his sword with blood trailing from the gash above his eye.

    Han offered an agreeable nod, as he wasn''t in any better shape, but that seemed to spur Reese on.

    "Cowards!" he yelled, spitting out a mixture of saliva, blood, and sweat. He ignored his comrades and lunged with sword raised. But in his ignorance he failed to see the small shadow bend around Aidan and spring towards his unguarded torso.

    And so Reese stood there, Aidan blocking his blow, with little Syra hilt-deep into his side. A small whine came from his crusted mouth and his jaw clenched from pain. But more than pain, Syra saw surprise splattered across his face.

    "He said, ''last chance''," she hushed up at him.

    "You stupid, stupid girl!" Reese growled, gritting his teeth and rearing his sword backwards. Forgetting about the slab of metal through his middle, he spun her around and shoved the blade-edge up against her throat.

    "Whatcha gonna do now, hero?" he mocked Aidan who stared him down. "You just gonna stand there?"

    Just above the treetops, Syra spotted a shimmer in the sunlight. Two shimmers, actually, and approaching fast.

    "Aidan, you have to d��"

    "It''s alright, I''ll handle this."

    "No, you dumbass," Syra said, twisting the blade in Reese''s side and causing him scream and drop his sword, "DUCK!"

    She leaped onto him and pulled him to the ground, just moments before a plume of red-hot flames shot over them and encapsulated Reese.

    A strong burst of wind was followed by Grant''s scream, "Dragons!"

    Aidan''s eyes went wide as he watched the large red and gold creatures circle above like vultures.

    "They''re coming back!" Han yelled to Grant, running over to an unconscious Reese, who was still alive but badly charred, "Help me drag him!"

    "Aidan, let''s go!" Syra said, shaking him out of his trance.

    The two scurried from the clearing into the safety of the trees.

    "What about them?" Aidan asked, watching Han and Grant struggle with their injuries to drag Reese out of the clearing.

    Within seconds a shadow fell over the men and more flames came. This time it was blue flames that caught their backsides as they managed to scamper out of range.

    Blue fire... Syra thought with brief pause.

    "Come on, before they come back!" Aidan tugged at her arm but she did not budge.

    "No," Syra said, pulling from his grasp and running back into the clearing.

    "What the hell��are you insane?!"

    "Trust me!"

    "Hell no!"

    Syra stood herself in the very middle of the meadow, watching the metallic figures bank inwards towards her.

    "Syra move!" Aidan yelled.

    She did not.

    Before her, the two serpents swooped low, but did not loose their fire.

    I was right.

    Wind billowed through the trees, whipping her hair and cloak as they landed side-by-side mere feet away. Leathery wings folded and bright eyes of azure and gold stared down from their towering perches. The golden one dipped its head and sniffed, spurring Aidan to leave his retreat.

    "Don''t come any closer!" Aidan threatened, running between Syra and the giants with sword raised, "We have no quarrel with you, so please, leave us be!"

    It studied Aidan for a moment then dismissed him, turning to its partner.

    "It''s her," it spoke, surprising Syra with its loudness.

    "Of course, it''s her!" said the copper drake in slight annoyance, "I''d know that whine anywhere."

    Aidan hesitated, confused by their words and Syra''s lax demeanor, "You...know them?"

    Syra turned an awkward smile to Aidan, "Um, yes! This is Cassius...and Petra," she said motioning to the gold and copper dragons, respectively, "They''re my siblings."

 |Chapter 8| Fours a Crowd

    <hr>

    "You''re siblings?" Aidan asked in near disbelief, but then shut his mouth with pause, "Of course you are..." His shoulders drooped and his eyes clouded over. "I take it they''re here for you?"

    Syra nodded and her eyes softened at Aidan''s meekness, "Valen sent for them."

    "Of course he did. I''ll leave them to you, then." Aidan spun away to find himself a comfortable boulder a safe distance away.

    "Are you alright?" Cassius asked after Aidan excused himself.

    "Yeah, you scared them off real good," she said with a subtle awkwardness, "Thanks."

    They stood there a moment in silence. Countless words needing said but left to simmer behind their tongues.

    Syra stared up at them��at the young adults that towered above her now. At their horns brushing the canopy. At their scales darkened and shiny from a fresh molt. Even Cassius'' chin horn graced his snout like a distinguished goatee.

    "You got big," Syra spoke finally in forced familiarity.

    "And you''re still puny," Petra said, foregoing any formalities. "What the hell happened to you?"

    "A lot...it''s hard to explain."

    "Bashta!" Petra spat. Her booming voice caused Syra to jump.

    "Petra," said Cassius, attempting to calm her.

    "Nine years!" Petra continued, ignoring him, "Nine years we waited to hear from you. For a letter, a raven, anything to let us know you were alright."

    "Wow, Petra. Didn''t know you cared so much," Syra said with genuine surprise.

    "Grandmaw Vega almost got shot looking for you." Petra roared, baring her teeth.

    Guilt stole the words from Syra''s throat and she looked away from her sister''s glare.

    "Why?" Cassius asked in a broken tone. "Why''d you just up and leave? Why didn''t you tell us where you were? What you were doing? How can we hear from Valen, but not you?"

    Syra chewed her lip.

    "You probably didn''t fit her agenda," Aidan said from his rock.

    Syra bit her lip harder, "I''m sorry��"

    "Don''t," Petra barked. "I don''t want it. Cassius may value your hot air, but I sure don''t."

    "Don''t you get it?" Syra barked back, "Marrak could have ears anywhere. And I''ll be damned if I let anymore of you die."

    "Bashta! You just didn''t want to."

    "Excuse me?"

    "When you want something, you go and get it. You wanted to play mage? Congrats, you did it. You wanted a new father? Valen seems quite proud of you. You wanted��" she waved her arm at Aidan and paused, "...I don''t know what that is. But that''s just how you are. You get what you want without regard for anyone else. You could have raven-ed yourself over to give some explanation, but you didn''t. So, you must''ve not cared enough to��"

    "I was scared, alright?" Syra admitted, holding Petra''s gaze, "I was young and just...scared. Scared of Marrak, scared of not having Papa anymore, scared of being Vayguard," and then her eyes fled from the same glare that met her on the ledge that night, "scared of being somewhere I wasn''t wanted."

    "Wasn''t wanted?" Petra repeated in pained articulation. "They bowed to you��gave you their fire."

    Syra restrained her eye roll, "I wasn''t talking about them."

    "You snubbed your nose at all of us, running away like a damn cave rat. Even now, nine years later, you run from those puny humans when you could easily kill��"

    "Because I''m not you, Petra. I''m not ''bite first, bow later''. And I''m certainly not the strong, fearless leader that the clan needs."

    "Vayguards aren''t fearless. We just do something about it." The searing edge of her voice cooled to simmering frustration. "Did I want father to die? No. Did I want to manage the clan''s chaos while you were off knocking horns with twadwattle over there? No. But I did. Because sometimes you have to do things you don''t want to do."

    Petra''s frill quivered as she bridled her temper. But her focused breaths blinded her to the metal barb clenched in Syra''s hand.

    On trained feet, she lunged at Petra, catching her off-guard. With a twist she thrusted the blade up in between the narrow belly scales of Petra''s chest. Petra flinched but Syra held the blade steady against her tender skin.

    "Do you know how humans kill dragons?" she snarled low, pressing the blade slowly forward. "Have you actually seen them slain by human hands? Seen it up close? Smelled their blood on the dirt?" Her eyes darkened and bore into Petra''s, "''Cause I have. And it stains just as bad as theirs."

    Syra blinked back the memories of the war out West, "Did I want to practice slaying my own kin day after day? Or bite my tongue when children put on plays about the ''Monsters of the Mountain''? No. But I did, because I had to. Because Papa''s dying words were to follow this blasted stone." Syra tugged the pearl out from under her shirt and shoved it in Petra''s face.

    Petra''s gaze wavered at the small stone, "Father gave you that?"

    "Yes. And I''ve spent this whole time trying to figure it out because it''s the only way I can fight back."

    She let the sword fall to her side and just stared at the soft-white ball in her hand, "I didn''t ask for this. I never wanted this."

    "None of us did," Cassius said, pressing his large forehead against hers.

    The scent of smoke and stone filled her nose and gripped her chest with its flashes of home. The dusty firepit with its leftover gristle, the wet stones of the hot springs, even the musk from moss bedding used too long. Had she really forgotten? She clawed at his snout with stubby nails as the tears welled up despite her straining.

    "I''m sorry," she said finally. "I know I should''ve, but I just...I''m sorry."

    "I know," he chuffed and grinned at his sister''s touch.

    Aidan watched with a tight chest as Cassius accepted Syra back without as much as a sneer. He just sat there letting her bawl, snot and all, with a rather contented look on his face.

    "So, are we going or not?" Aidan asked when the waterworks were over. "We only have a few hours of light by the look of things."

    Petra glared over at him, "Like hell you''re coming with us. Valen said nothing about needing a human''s help."

    "I doubt that. As Altaira''s eldest prince, it''s my duty to see this journey through."

    "No, your duty is to stay in your little castle and let dragons handle dragons. You''ve done enough damage."

    His back straighten and he leered back, "Your family wasn''t the only one torn apart by that monster, you know. I deserve a chance to make my brother''s death mean something."

    "You deserve nothing!" Petra yowled, snarling in his face. Her throat glowed as she growled, "You humans treated us like guard dogs, then spat in our faces the moment you couldn''t control one. And he wasn''t even Montari."

    Aidan grimaced at the heat radiating from Petra''s throat but stood firm. Fury blazed behind her eyes, but it was a candle compared to the bloodlust he faced from the wyrms overseas.

    "Petra, enough," Cassius said. "He''s coming."

    "What? Why?"

    "Because Valen did invite him. It was just in the letter you didn''t read because you were too worried about Syra."

    "I was not worried," she said with an indignant huff, turning away from Aidan and letting her tail ''accidently'' knock him off balance.

    Cassius let it pass and returned to Syra, "So, how are we supposed to find these shards? Valen said they were scattered."

    "We fly, foghead." Petra said, stretching her wings.

    "No!" Syra said, "No, that will attract too much attention." She rummaged through her pack and took out the spelltags, "These. Valen said to use these. They''re supposed to ''make the trip easier''...somehow."

    "Um, alright?" Cassius said hesitant, standing next to Petra.

    "Hold it! What exactly do these things do��"

    Petra''s retreat was slower than Syra''s hands, and she looked down to see the tag pressed firmly against their chests.

    The tags shivered under Syra''s hands and latched onto their scales. Light spread from the rusty thumbprint, lighting up the border of scrawled runes in turn.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "What the hell is this?" Petra asked panicked, but her voice was cut off.

    Shooting from the tag, veins of light sprawled out across their bodies until they were consumed by light. Their shapes wavered, then shrank, and condensed. When the glow faded, two humans sat��fully clothed, to Syra''s amazement��in their place.

    Syra could only laugh at the incomprehensible noises and screams that left Petra''s horror-stricken face.

    "What in Draco''s name did you do?" Petra cried, scrambling on the ground on all fours and examining, with great disdain, her frail and scale-less body.

    "Yes, Syra, what did you do?" Cassius asked, staring wide-eyed at his long and tender fingers.

    "It was a shapechange spell," Syra said under her breath, mostly to herself.

    "A what?" Petra asked trying to stand.

    "''Dragon'', ''human''...now it makes sense!" Syra beamed in her realization, "Valen knew the sight of dragons outside their territory would raise suspicion, so he turned you into something that wouldn''t." She looked down at the twins struggling to stand and walk bipedal. At their slender frames that contradicted their typical bulk. At the copper and blonde locks that framed their faces instead of scales, "Human."

    "Change me back!" Petra demanded, her loose curls a tousled mess from her flailing about.

    "I can''t," Syra said plainly, "I don''t know the right runes, let alone the correct nota��"

    "Change. Me. Back," Petra growled and grabbed Syra up by the collar, standing a full head taller even with her feet dangling.

    But Syra held back a giggle at the light freckling across Petra''s nose.

    Even her snoutspots are there!

    "Put her down, Petra," Cassius said, taking a couple steady steps towards them. "She already said she couldn''t, so let''s go collect these shards then we''ll ask Valen to change us back."

    "Fine," said Petra with a snarl. She unhanded Syra and shuffled away as quickly as her wobbly legs would allow. "Let''s get this over with. I''m tired of these spindly legs already."

    They followed Petra across the clearing when Syra stopped at the cart, "What about this?"

    "Ugh. What about it?" Petra asked.

    "It''s filled with magical items," she said, sorting through the boxes and jars, "herbs, salves, charms...who knows what would come in handy."

    "Leave it," Petra said, "It''ll just weigh you down and I am not slowing down for y��" Petra halted mid-step with her eyes locked on the shining array of steel weaponry. "What are those?"

    "I thought you didn''t like human things." Syra teased, grinning at Petra''s sudden fixation.

    Still a sucker for the shinies, I see.

    "Don''t touch!" Cassius said when Petra examined the rows of hilts with curious hands. "They''re not yours."

    "Property of Edgewood''s Apothecary and Cure Alls," said Syra, ignoring him and reading the sign attached, "If found, please return to Lady Baba. You can keep the items, I just really like this cart."

    "You were saying?" Petra asked, picking a gold-inlaid hilt from the rack.

    "I said, nooo," Cassius reached out to stop her, but her eyes lit up as she pulled the glossy blade of a long sword from its sheath.

    "Oh, yes!"

    Cassius rolled his eyes, "Oh, for Erd''s sake. You don''t even know how to use it."

    "No, but Syra does," Petra said, eyeing Syra''s sword with cautious disgust.

    "You can barely walk," Syra rebutted, "let alone swing correctly."

    "Then teach them," Aidan said dryly.

    "Why me? You''re way more skilled than I am, Captain."

    "And you''re their sister. You''re also the one that put them in that form in the first place and they''re going to need some form of protection."

    "Ugh, fine." Syra conceded with a huff, "Pick your weapon and let''s go. Aidan, hook Leif up to the cart. We''re taking it back to Edgewood."

    "Why?"

    "There''s a Kesh Raza there. This Lady Baba is probably a Green Witch and might know something."

    "Did someone say ''Baba''?" A small voice came from somewhere in the cart, causing Petra to jump.

    "Who''s there?" Petra asked, raising her new toy with shaky arms.

    "Hold on," Syra said, "that sounds familiar."

    "It had better!" the voice called again, "I saved your life you know! Now if you could just let me out of this box, I''ll call it even!"

    "Box? What box? There''s like, hundreds of them."

    "This box!" A few shelves up to the left, a wooden box with metal latch shook with thumping.

    "Wait," Cassius said grabbing Syra''s hand, "You don''t know what''s actually in there."

    "Yes, but it did save me earlier."

    Cassius hesitated before retracting his hand. All four grew tense as Syra flicked the latch open and lifted the lid.

    "Oh, thank you thank you!" With the whir of tiny wings, a blur shot from the box and tackled Syra''s face, clinging there like a bug on glass. "Those horrible, ugly men caught me when I was looking for sundrops, and shoved me right in that box, they did!"

    "Is that so?" Syra asked a bit stunned, mouth muffled by the little green fae.

    "Aye!" It said, drawing away to look at Syra with its round, black eyes, "Real brutes they were! All curses and yelling, never a kind word at all! And when I heard you offer to help them, I had to warn you, else they do something terrible to you!"

    "Oh yes, thank you for that," Syra said with some embarrassment, "I wouldn''t have noticed otherwise."

    "Of course, milady!" It said with a proud grin, "And now that we''re settled, I hope to learn the names of my rescuers?"

    "Syra," she said, motioning to herself and them the others, "Those are my siblings, Petra and Cassius, and the broody one over there is Aidan."

    The fae flitted around to each of them, studying their faces, and paused at Aidan.

    "Hm," he scrunched his small, green face as their black eyes bore into each other.

    "What?" Aidan pulled his head back and resisted the urge to smack the fae from his face.

    "Nothing, you''re just bigger than usual."

    "Excuse me��"

    "I''m very pleased to make your acquaintances," it said, returning to Syra and bowing, the bouquet of white fluffs that was its hair wafting over its face. "You may call me Leon."

    "Now," Leon said, adjusting his leafy tunic, "You mentioned visiting a lady by the name of, Old Lady Baba?"

    "I don''t know if she''s old or not, but that''s the name left on the cart," said Syra.

    "Oh, she''s old," Leon chuckled, "but I''m sure she would appreciate it being returned."

    "You know her?"

    "Oh yes!" he said with pride, "She''s been a friend and travel partner for a long time now. She''s the reason I know this land as much as I do," he paused in sudden realization, "but she''s also the reason I got captured...never mind that last bit!" He waved his tiny hands dismissively, "It was my fault anyways."

    "Could you take us to her?" Aidan asked.

    "Oh, yes yes! Certainly!" said Leon, flitting excitedly around the four of them. "She''s probably wondering where I went, actually. Best I show myself before she sends out the hound."

    "It''s a bit of a hike from here, however," he said, stopping to hover by Syra''s head. "I know a stop-over, but it will still take a full day on foot."

    "Then we better get going." Aidan said, whistling for Leif. "You two," he motioned to Cassius and Petra, "climb up on the cart. We''ll travel faster without you falling on those legs."

    Petra took the command with an indignant sneer, but Cassius stood still.

    "No."

    Aidan shot him a questioning leer, surprised by his audacity.

    Cassius moved to the cart''s side and placed a steadying hand on its frame, "We''ll never learn to walk properly if we just ride along. It might be slower at first, but not for long."

    The two stared at one another unblinking while Aidan tossed Cassius'' words around in his head.

    "Fine," Aidan said, hitching the stallion to the cart, "Just try to keep up. Syra!"

    "Yes?" she asked with a start, her muscles wanting to snap to attention.

    "Get on the the cart with Leon. You need to rest."

    "I''ll be fine," she said and started to take the lead, but was halted by Aidan''s firm hand on her shoulder.

    "We need to get those shards as soon as possible, and I will not be held up by unnecessary injuries." His narrow eyes bored into her, "Now get on the cart."

    "Yes, sir," she said with soft sarcasm.

    Aidan watched with flat face as she spun on a heel and mounted the cart.

    "Lover''s quarrel?" Leon asked in Syra''s ear.

    "Don''t get me started."

    "Leon!" Aidan called, "We await your directions."

    "Ah, yes!" The fae left Syra''s shoulder and flew to the small trail through the trees. "This will lead you back to the main road. From there it''s a straight shot to Landelle, then on to Edgewood."

    "Good," Aidan said taking the reins, "Let''s go, boy." He clicked his tongue and led his horse to follow after Leon.

    ***

    Indigo sprawled across the horizon by the time they reached the stretches of farmland that bordered Landelle. The twins had grown sure-footed and steady, and walked with a confident gait just behind Aidan. All the while, Cassius'' gaze focused on the back of Aidan''s head and he grew tired of the pressure.

    "Do you have something to say, Cassius?" he asked without turning around.

    Cassius paused to choose his words, "What happened between you two? You and Syra? I''ve been trying to decide what about you is making her so uncomfortable, but I just can''t put a claw on it."

    "Why don''t you ask her?"

    "Because we don''t want to incite any of her blubbering," Petra said, annoyed by the cloud of negativity that followed them.

    "Then either ignore your curiosity or accept the consequences of your question." He, too, was aware of Syra''s foul mood, but also knew it was better to let it diffuse than to stir it up.

    "She''s my sister," Cassius warned."You can''t expect me to ignore that she''s upset."

    "Yet another reason to ask her," Aidan said, growing more irritated.

    "I could, but I trust you less, so��"

    "Kiirashi," Syra spoke dryly in Draconic, staring off at the rolling hills of planted fields.

    Cassius and Petra became oddly quiet. Dragons tyically mated for life, a process that resulted in emotional and even psychic bonds that lasted centuries. The loss of one''s mate almost always left a physical scar on the surviving mate. So to severe that bond intentionally was seen as a terrible betrayal and highly frowned upon.

    "It''s fine," Syra continued, "Humans really are just...different." She hadn''t been left with a scar, but her chest felt like it had been clawed out and her heart beat weaker because of it.

    I wonder if Papa felt like this when Mother died, she had thought several times.

    "That''s an understatement," Petra growled under her breath.

    "Hey, wait!" Syra pushed her thoughts aside as her eyes caught something in the distance. "Look, up there!" She stood up in the cart and pointed down the road a ways, "There''s a carriage just up ahead. Do you see it?"

    "I can''t see shit with these eyes," Petra said, squinting unsuccessfully.

    "They look stuck," Syra said. "I think one of the wheels broke off. Maybe we could help them."

    "Careful now," Leon warned. "That got you in trouble last time, remember?"

    "Yes, but they could take us to Landelle or give us shelter for the night. One even looks like an old man, from what I can tell. Plus, what are the chances of running into more bandits?"

    "Outside of the Inner Ring? High," Aidan cautioned. "You''re not in the city anymore."

    "Alright, then I''ll go talk to them and you back me up if things go wrong."

    As they neared, they saw a woman and older man, plainly dressed, leave the carriage and start waving them over.

    "See! They''re even asking for help," Syra said.

    "It could easily be trap," said Aidan. "The moment you get near them, they''ll grab you and take anything of value. Father is constantly getting ravens complaining about the increasing dangers on the roads." He looked over to Petra for her opinion.

    "Don''t look at me. I didn''t want you coming to begin with, so the less humans the better."

    "I''ll go with you," Cassius said to Syra, ignoring Petra and putting a hand on the hilt of his saber, "I need to practice anyway."

    But Aidan grabbed his shoulder, "Fighting bandits isn''t practice, it''s battle. I don''t care if they''re human, do not underestimate them."

    "Is that an order, Captain?" Syra sneered, hopping down from the cart.

    Aidan''s lip twitched, "Don''t start."

    "What? I''m banished remember?" A shadow stung her forced smile. "Your orders don''t apply anymore."

    With that, she trotted over to the strangers without another word.

    Aidan let out a long sigh, "Damn it, Syra..."

    "It''s alright, I got her," Cassius said, following after her.

    Syra and Cassius approached the carriage with friendly faces, but remained cautious. Aidan and Petra kept close to the cart��to Petra''s dismay of being left alone with the pale creature��and watched from a safe distance.

    "Um, hello," Syra began, greeting the woman, "Are you two alright? We saw you waving and thought you could use some help."

    "Oh my goodness, yes!" the woman said with a sigh of relief, "Thank you so much for stopping! We were on our way to Landelle when this darn wheel decided now was the perfect time to up and break." She chuckled to herself and waved an accusing hand at the wheel splintered off its axle.

    "We tried to fix it ourselves," the older man said, shuffling with his cane, "but the two of us just aren''t strong enough to lift up that carriage. If I were just a bit younger we wouldn''t be in this situation." He grumbled at himself and Syra could see the frustration in his wrinkled eyes.

    "Don''t worry yourself, it''s not a problem," Syra said, "I''m glad we happened along at the right time."

    Sadness seemed to flicker across his face, but he nodded and pointed his cane at the wheel, "Snapped completely in two, it did. We managed to repair the most of it, but can''t manage to put it back on."

    "You think you could help me lift the cart while Dad slides the wheel into place? We''d be much obliged," the lady said, beckoning Syra to her by the edge of the cart.

    "Certainly!" said Syra nodding to Cassius and grasping the cart firmly, "Just let me know when you''re ready."

    The woman and Cassius bent down for a tight grip on the cart, but only a whisper left her lips, "You need to leave."

 |Chapter 9| The Black Thorn & Moon Lily

    <hr>

    "What?" Syra asked, confused by the woman''s sudden serious tone. "No, it''s alright. We don''t mind helping."

    "No, you need to leave, now!" The woman pretended to fiddle with her grip on the carraige but her eyes darted to the brush behind them.

    "But��"

    "She''s right," Cassius spoke hushed, his eyes scanning the trees like he was trying to place a scent, "I don''t have a good feeling about this. I think we''re being watched."

    "Go!" the woman commanded, "before they��"

    "Before they what?" called a voice from the trees.

    "Damnit," the woman cursed to herself, "Before you try to attack these children!" She stood to face the squad of armed men slinking from the bramble like snickering foxes.

    "So it was a trap," Syra chastised herself.

    "I''m sorry, I tried to warn you," the lady said.

    "That makes two of you."

    One-by-one the men filed out into the open. And, one-by-one, Syra spotted each donning a single bronze coin identical to Reese.

    "Come now, Tilly!" the lead man said, a playful hand on his hilt, "You know the deal!"

    "This is no deal! It''s a sentence!" Tilly spat.

    "One that you agreed with!"

    "Or risk my father''s life? Oh yes, those were excellent options."

    The old man stepped in front of Tilly and the carriage as the men approached. His steady stance and firm grip on his cane spoke of one once familiar with combat.

    "Don''t do this, old man," the ringleader warned.

    But he continued to stand, "For moons now, we have done as asked. Every time, in every plot conspired, with every bed and meal provided, we have obliged."

    "Yes, and that is why we keep you around. Now please, step aside."

    "How much longer must we hasten to you?" His cane quivered.

    "Until the Black Thorn has what it needs. Now for the last time, old man, step aside. You''re in no shape to fight."

    Again, the old man refused to budge.

    "Dad, move!" Tilly called, "Let me handle this!"

    "No," said the old man, "There is little else more wicked than a father refusing to protect his child. I will not let��"

    Crack! The ringleader''s scabbard knocked the old man''s legs clear out from under him.

    "I asked you, to move," said the ringleader, stepping over the fallen gentleman, "Twice! actually. But it seems politeness doesn''t sit well with you. Hopefully, your daughter has better manners."

    "Don''t you touch her!" The old man growled, straining against his cane to stand. But it was quickly knocked away, and his head pressed into the dirt by the foot of another man.

    "That''s enough!" Syra shouted, drawing her sword and stepping in front of Tilly.

    "You all should leave." Cassius cautioned while drawing his saber. It shook slightly until he grew accustomed to its weight.

    "You all should leave," the ringleader mocked with flopping hands, inciting laughter in his men, "Looks like we got ourselves some brave ones, eh? All three o'' ye? That''s fine, I could use the exercise."

    It didn''t take many hits for Cassius to realize that Aidan had been right. The men were on top of them in fervor, hot for a brawl, and he struggled to merely block their advances.

    "You''re too open!" Syra said mid-swing, "Like this!" She lunged forward but kept her body sideways, dodging incoming blows.

    He tried to imitate her stance, but his eyes were fixed on the man''s heavy blade and his feet forgot their position under its weight. He faltered and his grip failed. The blade fell and he felt the sting of metal across skin. The shock weakened his legs and they gave away. The pain and hot blood running down his arm consumed his vision. He did not see the second blow.

    "Cassius!" His name rang dull in his ears, followed by a clang above his head. Aidan crouched over him, his own sword blocking the sweaty man''s, "Move!"

    Cassius scrambled away clutching his bloody arm.

    Shoving the man off balance, Aidan circled him and sliced at his calves, bringing him to his knees. His hilt''s quick jab to the head knocked him cold.

    It was now four against five. Leon escorted Tilly''s father back to the carriage while Syra guarded Tilly, distracting the ringleader as Tilly swung away with a felled branch.

    Petra charged and swung, and swung again, always forward and never back. Into a tree, she forced him, and primed for a fatal blow. She went forward, but he went under. Her longsword met only splinted bark and she felt her back scream from the claw tearing through her vest and shirt.

    "Petra!" Syra screamed. She pushed harder against the ringleader, forcing herself towards her sister.

    Petra stumbled a few paces, shocked by the burning that spread throughout her body. Then she steadied herself and clenched her sword. She spun, eyes locked on her attacker, and lunged. The long blade slid through cloth and flesh with ease. She saw red swell and trickle around the blade, felt his breath heave in his chest, and watched his eyes widen and lose focus. Then he fell to the ground gasping.

    "Connor!" the ringleader abandoned Syra and rushed to the fallen man.

    Petra went for a second attack, but Syra dashed in front of her, pushing her back.

    "Leave him!" Syra said, keeping her sword raised as the men gathered around their comrade.

    "We will not forget this," the ringleader said, glaring up at Syra through dark and narrowed eyes.

    Together the men carried Connor back into the forest, leaving Syra and the others to bask in the sound of their own panting.

    "Gragas," Petra said through strained breaths and falling to a knee.

    Now that she was closer, Syra saw the slash streaking across Petra''s back and the trail of blood running down her leg.

    "What are you waiting for?" Aidan yelled, seeing to Cassius'' arm, "Heal her!"

    Syra knelt by Petra and pulled her clothing back away from the wound.

    "Easy!" Petra snarled, wincing.

    "Sorry, but I have to see what I''m working with."

    Her hands hesitated at the wound. The cut was clean but long, and she had already lost a lot of blood.

    It''s too much, she thought. The mana stones Valen gave her certainly helped restore some of her mana reserves, but not enough. Not for this amount of healing.

    "What is it?" asked Petra. "Is it that bad?"

    "Yes and no. Normally, I could seal this up without issue, but I don''t have the reserves. I''ll be drained before I can even get to Cas."

    "Then let me help," Leon said, fluttering over and landing in Syra''s shoulder. "There''s still a little light left."

    The fae spread his dragonfly-like wings and turned them to the sunset, their translucent green hue glinting in its last rays. A moment later, they shimmered and specks of light veined down into his tiny body.

    Syra jolted from the sudden warmth spreading from her shoulder, returning some strength to her.

    "I thought fae were only sunfeeders," she said over her shoulder, a tad in awe.

    "We can feed each other if necessary," he said with a proud grin, "and this seems pretty necessary to me. Sorry I can''t give you more."

    "Don''t be��I can still use it. I can''t close it completely, but I can at least stop the bleeding."

    Syra placed both hands just above Petra''s back. Feint purple light shone from her palms as she channeled mana into and around the wound.

    Petra lurched from the sudden tingling, "Wait, why does that feels funny? I don''t like th��" Petra''s unease drained as warmth spread from her back and the pain dulled. Any harsh words were lost and her body drooped.

    "Just try to relax," said Syra.

    Petra rested her head on her knees and stared at the ground, "...thanks."

    Syra was covered in sweat and panting by the time Cassius'' wound was clotted, "We''ll need to keep it dressed until it heals. Or until I recover more and can close it up."

    I still have some amec left, so that''ll help.

    Cassius and Petra nodded, but Aidan stood rigid with a sharp gaze on Syra.

    "Can I say ''I told you so''? ''Cause I told you so."

    "Yes," she admitted with a heavy sigh, "You were right. But can I also say that you''re an asshole for gloating?"

    "And can I say," Petra chimed in, heaving herself to her feet, "Shut your mouths so we can get going? We''ve already lost the sun and we''re still miles from Landelle. So much for ''one day''s walk''."

    "If you''re heading to Landelle, why don''t you come with us?" Tilly said, helping her father into the carriage, "We live just outside of town, and we really should repay you for your help here."

    "That would be wonderful," Syra said, relieved, "It''s much appreciated."

    "You three hop in the back with Dad," said Tilly to the siblings, "Mr. Handsome here can take watch up front with me." She joked with a flirty wave to Aidan, who waved her away, seemingly unaffected.

    "I''ll stick with Leif, thank you."

    Syra settled herself between the sacks of flour and a barrel of what smelled of ale. Her eyes examined the bags and crates of goods, mostly food or ingredients for food, before landing on the outstretched hand of Tilly''s father.

    "The name''s Radstrom," he said. The creases at his eyes deepened as he gave that warm smile only someone of long years and strong heart can give.

    "Syra," she said, shaking his callused hand. She went to pull back but he held on firm.

    "Thank you, Syra," he said, gaze unwavering, "for saving my daughter. I''d be lost without her."

    A small and bittersweet grin grew on her face, "I''m sure she''d feel the same way without you."

    Radstrom chuckled and let his head rest against the wall of the carriage, closing his eyes. Leon nestled himself in Syra''s lap and she looked over to see the twins already nodding off. The clopping of hooves and the light sway of the carriage calmed her nerves and she found herself in a similar position before long.

    ***

    The stars were in full bloom by the time they arrived at the pleasant little cottage. Sleep nagged at the back of Syra''s head and she stifled a yawn as they exited the carriage.

    "It''s small," Tilly said, leading them from them stables, arms full with flour, "but it''s ours. The top floor is usually for guests who can''t afford the transpoint, but feel free to make yourselves at home."

    The bed-and-breakfast sat near the bottom of a hill, and the smell of a wood stove warmed the evening chill and made them drowsy. It was a simple cottage of two stories, with pastel eaves that smelled of fresh paint, and a pond bordered by ivory flowers that glimmered in the moonlight.

    "Those are Cetillas," Radstrom said, catching Syra''s curious stares, "or ''Moon Lilies''. Strange things they are, only blooming under strong moonlight, but beautiful. Tilly''s mother loved them. So much so that we named our only child after them." He chuckled to himself and watched Tilly struggle, but insist, on carrying the heavy bag of flour into the house by herself. All the while smiling.

    "I''m sure she''d be proud," Syra said, "She seems like quite a kind person."

    Radstrom didn''t say anything, but patted her on the shoulder with a soft grin and led her inside with the others.

    Warmth and the smell of fresh baking greeted them as they entered into the dimly lit kitchen. Embers still smoldered in the fireplace and Tilly made a rush to store the large sack before buzzing from candle to candle, lighting the room in a soft glow.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    "Let us help with that," Syra said, attempting to take the lit wooden stick from Tilly.

    "No no, sit sit!" Tilly said and shooed her away towards the large table that beckoned to be filled with platters of food. "You''ve done quite enough already, I assure you. And I will not be held responsible for you remaining tired and hungry."

    She waved a joking finger and went to tend the fire. "Once I get this fire going, I''ll fix you up a nice hot stew and biscuits, and then you can take a long soak in the tub. Dad, would you mind drawing them a bath?" she asked Radstrom.

    "Certainly," he said, dipping his head and heading down a hallway. "I''ll also fetch some bandages. Best to keep those wounds clean and dry, else they''ll fester," he said to the twins.

    "Now go have a seat," Tilly insisted as baby flames gnawed at the dry log, "I won''t ask again."

    "Thank you," said Aidan, pulling out a chair.

    The party sat themselves about the table, Petra with some difficulty as the chair''s wooden back did not favor the gash on hers. But Tilly was quick to drape it with a thick blanket, and even Petra found a deep sense of appreciation of the human''s generosity.

    "Once you''re full and dry, I''ll have Dad mend those clothes right up," Tilly said with a gentle hand on Petra''s shoulder. "I might be handy in the kitchen, but I''m afraid I''m of no use with needle-and-thread. Knit you an extra arm, I would." She chuckled and then busied herself with her knife and board and all sorts of fixings for a hearty stew. In between slicing carrots and peeling potatoes, she even put a kettle on.

    All four party members seemed to fall into a stupor among the crackling fire and the chop-chop of the cutting board. Syra could see Petra was already trying to nod off; no doubt her stomach was fighting fatigue for the sake of food.

    The room was mostly wood with low ceiling��cozy��and a tad plain, with only curtains and a solitary painting hung for decoration. But all were clean and tidy. Only the counter showed spots of dusted flour that hid from the washcloth. There were extra chairs, of course, and one smaller round table squatted in a corner. Curled up in one of these chairs, and staring back at Syra with large orange eyes, was a ball of gray fur topped with startlingly large, erect ears.

    "That''s Pema," Tilly said, noticing Syra''s silent staring. "She''s normally not fond of strangers, poor thing. With all the travelers we take in, I''m surprised she hasn''t run away from us already. Heh," she laughed to herself, "can''t keep a husband but I can keep a kila."

    Aidan looked to Syra, unsure of whether or not to question the subject. But her attention remained fixed on the fluffy creature, so much so that he debated whether she had heard Tilly at all.

    "Oh, don''t mind me," Tilly said, noticing Aidan''s awkward look and bringing over mugs of hot water and a tin of dried tea, "Just talking to myself."

    "May I ask what you meant by that? If you don''t mind, of course," Aidan asked. "You just seem like quite the capable housekeeper."

    "Yes well, there''s more to being a wife than just keeping house. To some, baring children is...a requirement." Her eyes clouded over for a brief moment before returning to her pot. "When I lost ours, he decided to start a family elsewhere, with someone more...''suitable'', whatever that means."

    "That''s horrible," Aidan said flatly.

    "Oh, indeed it is!" Tilly said with a wry laugh. "But, now I don''t have to deal with his smelly feet or love of buttered liver. And I get to run this place how I like, so it''s not so bad." She hung the pot over the fire and sat down on the tiny stool beside it, "Anyways, what are you heading to Landelle for, if you don''t mind me asking? Most people are leaving for the festival from what I hear."

    "Yes, Syra," he said, calling her attention away from Pema, "Why are we going to Landelle?"

    "Because Valen said to?" Syra answered as if being tested.

    "Don''t forget about the cart!" Leon added, pulling himself away from Pema''s licking, "Baba will have me roasted if I don''t bring that back."

    "You mean the archmage, Valen?" asked Tilly, now curious.

    "Yes, you know him?" Syra asked.

    "Only by name. But Baba I know quite fondly. She''s a ways away, but makes the best medicine for Dad''s body aches. But what would an archmage need from you younglings?"

    Aidan hesitated and Cassius concentrated on sipping his tea; Petra had since lost her war against sleep.

    "A quest," Syra said unabashed, causing Cassius to spit out his tea.

    "A quest, you say?"

    "Or rather, a test." Syra tucked a lock behind her ear to reveal the golden hoop, "I just graduated the academy, but still have to pass a practical in order to apply for the Court. We found Baba''s cart on the way here, so I figured she''d be a good resource to question."

    "That''s wonderful!" Tilly beamed, "I hear the academy is actually quite challenging even for Gifted folks. And the others? Are you all mages as well?"

    "No, they''re," Syra paused to create a reasonable explanation other than, ''to defeat an evil dragon''.

    "They''re training," Aidan said, tapping at his sword. "Syra needed protection, so it seemed a good opportunity. But it appears they''re not quite ready."

    "Well, I''m glad to be of some service to our kingdom''s vassals." Tilly grinned and stirred the pot a bit, examining its bubbling contents, "Now drink up! Dinner should be ready soon."

    While Tilly prepared some biscuits, Syra took a crystal and a strand of Aru from her pack and dropped them into her mug. To her delight, the water turned a purple hue and she burnt her tongue out of eagerness.

    When they had eaten and bathed, Tilly made sure to wrap and bandage any injuries��she even insisted on tying up Petra''s unruly locks��while Radstrom took to stitching up their clothing. And then it was off to bed, at least for the twins who had had quite the shocking day. Aidan took to reading by the fire while Tilly cleaned and Radstrom finished mending Petra''s vest. Pema decided Syra''s lap was a suitable cushion, and Syra stroked her absentmindedly as she watched the moon lilies shimmer and waft in the night breeze.

    "What ''deal'' did you make with those men?" Syra asked, breaking the silence.

    Both Tilly and Radstrom stopped their cleaning and stitching, a tad stunned.

    "That''s their business, not ours," Aidan said, turning a page.

    "Those men wore the same coin as the man who tried to sell me." Syra turned a stern eye to him, "If there are more of them, we need to know so we can avoid them."

    "There is no avoiding them," Radstrom said with downcast eyes, "Not for very long."

    Neither he nor Tilly spoke in the quiet of the room. He had stopped his stitching, and Tilly gripped at the small cloth in her hands.

    "We tried to," Tilly finally said, "but it just got Dad in more trouble, and now we''re at their beck and call." She picked at a loose thread in the cloth with furrowed brow, "It was bad enough having to house and feed that lot, but to be expected to rob the travelers we used to help is just��"

    She raised a balled fist to slam the counter, but held it, shaking in the air, until it fell gently by her side. "Some weren''t that bad, in the beginning. Most just young men tired of working for nothing, or of their cries going unheard. They were all just...tired, and ''wanted to change things''. But they never lasted long. They were either killed or became like the rest."

    She placed the rag down and stepped over to a squat cabinet in the corner. Without a word, she took something from inside a drawer and walked over to Syra. From her hand dropped a necklace, the bronze ring clunking against the wooden table.

    "My husband was one of those."

    Syra stared wide-eyed and Aidan closed his book.

    "The Black Thorn would like you to believe they stand for the weak and unprivileged," said Radstrom, "rebelling against the courts and the magistrates, and the whole bloody kingdom for that matter. That they''re ''fighting for a good cause''. But that''s just a fantasy meant to lure in more bodies, and by the time the illusion fades you''re already too far buried."

    "And if you do try to leave," he unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulder, revealing a branded scar sunk into his shoulder blade, "you''re either marked as a traitor or killed. Usually both, given time."

    "So, that''s what the deal was?" Syra asked, her voice losing its edge.

    Tilly nodded, "When Fin left, any protection he provided went with him. We became tools. Only kept alive for free food and a warm bed." Her fingers tugged at the edge of her blouse, "He didn''t care what happened to us."

    The tightening of Aidan''s grip on the book''s bindings was audible, but he just stared at the scuffed grains in the flooring.

    "This will stop," Aidan said. "I don''t know when, or exactly how yet...but it will. I''ll make sure of it."

    "That''s quite the promise," said Tilly.

    Aidan looked her straight in the eyes and stood. In one swift movement he latched his index finger around hers, causing her to jump.

    "I also have people I want to protect," he said, glancing over at Radstrom. "I know you don''t know me that well, or trust me, but I do know that there are people��people in power��that will tear them down without hesitation. I just have to give them enough evidence."

    With that, Tilly picked the necklace from the table and pressed it into Aidan''s palm, "I hope you''re right." The fine lines peeking around her eyes spoke of both hope and fatigue.

    "But," she waved the tension away with a quick pat to her apron, "you''ll never make it that far if you don''t get some rest. Tomorrow is bound to be a better day." She shooed them off to their beds and went back to cleaning.

    Aidan walked Syra up the stairs but stopped her outside her room, his face solemn, "Hey Syra, could you hear me out on something?"

    She raised a brow but invited him to continue.

    "I know you''re focused on saving your own family��which I completely support��but...please, don''t forget there are people that need our help, too."

    She scoffed, "Was it not me who offered to help Tilly in the first place? All to be ambushed by other people."

    Aidan offered an understanding grin, but she did not look at him. Instead, she stared at the small royal crest stitched into his undershirt.

    "It was people who banished me. You think me quick-to-change, but it was people calling for my head even after I fought their war, and blocked that falling tower. All because I don''t have the face they want to see." Her unabashedness took Aidan by surprise and she turned to see a hint of fear reflected in the candlelight, "It is people who are fickle and forgetful, not me. So no, I won''t forget." She turned away from him but stopped with a hand on the door knob, "I''m not that kind of monster."

    ***

    The weather had indeed blessed the party with good day the next morning. A clear sky melted the early frost, and fresh bread with sizzled meats greeted their greedy mouths.

    "You three sure can eat!" Tilly laughed, throwing a second helping of pork onto her pan.

    "Runs in the family," Cassius said before shoveling another mouthful.

    "I didn''t know humans even knew how to cook meat," Petra hushed to Aidan in between bites, "let alone keep it juicy."

    "It''s because we don''t char it all at once."

    "I need to remember this," Petra said to herself, analyzing the light scorch marks that left the meat plenty plump.

    "It''s even better with pickled tomatoes," raved Syra. "This one cook made a sauce with them, and I swear I put it on everyth��"

    A crash from the stove made the party jump.

    "Shit," the hushed wisp of a curse escaped Tilly''s lips as she stared, ashen, out a window.

    "Put your dishes in the sink," she commanded and snatched Syra''s plate from under her, "all of them!"

    "What''s wrong?" Syra asked, standing to empty the table.

    "Who''s out there, Tilly?" Radstrom shuffled to stack the last of the dishes in the wash basin.

    "The Commander," said Tilly, seething.

    "Lovely."

    "Who?" Syra and Aidan asked in unison.

    "A horrid man in charge of the local Black Thorn members," said Tilly wiping the table spotless, "the one I spoke of last night. And he''s brought his squad with him." She turned to her father, "Could you get the��"

    "Already on it," Radstrom hurried to the nearest closet and flung open the door to their widest. He shoved away the jackets and boots until the flooring was visible. "Come now, all of you," he said, waving the party over and kneeling just outside its threshold.

    In the farthest back corner he grasped a latch, pulling up the small door that was just big enough for a person to squeeze through.

    "Stay under there until they leave," he said, helping them into the crawlspace under the kitchen floor, "And do not make one peep. You understand? Not one!" He held Syra''s hand tight as he lowered her into the hole, "No matter what happens."

    Syra stared up at him in worry, but nodded, crouching down so he could lower the door

    "Don''t forget this!" Leon flittered over dragging Syra''s bag, his little wings straining from its weight.

    "Good catch, Leon," Radstrom said, handing the bag down the hole, "Now in you go." He waited for Leon to join the others before replacing the door and reassembling the closet.

    The party sat huddled beneath the floorboards. Light filtered through the narrow cracks and they could see Tilly and Radstrom take their places at the table as if nothing were amiss.

    But then there came a heavy knock on the door, and the siblings could smell the rush of fear.

    "Tilly!" boomed a tall, clean-shaven man of fine linen, despite his rough profession.

    "Larson," Tilly said in mere acknowledgement.

    "Long time no see!" He said as he entered the room uninvited, throwing open the door.

    She jumped to catch the door before it collided with the wall, "Not long enough."

    "Oh, don''t be that way, Butterbum. You''re always happy to see me...and them," he pushed his way into the kitchen and waved to his men stationed outside the last stepping stone. "Come on in, fellas. No need to be shy; there never is."

    The handful of armed men filed into the kitchen and Larson closed in on Tilly, "Normally I wouldn''t be this rude as to jump right into the heat of things, but you see, I''ve gotten myself, and my men, into a bit of a...situation."

    "Oh?" Tilly said, leaving the door open and leaning against the counter.

    "Last night, while I was relaxing with the misses, a squad of my men came barging in��and I mean barging, caught me mid-stroke��and plopped another one of men right onto my favorite rug. But that wasn''t the worst part! Worst part was that he was a bloody mess! And, after a few minutes, he was a dead bloody mess!"

    "I wouldn''t think that to be too uncommon in your field," Tilly feigned nonchalance.

    "You know, it isn''t," Larson agreed, "But the kicker is that, after we disposed of the body, I was told that he was killed by four young swordsmen who, get this, were helping you! Crazy isn''t it?"

    "Quite."

    "So here I am, completely dumbfounded by how someone I have such a sweet deal with, could just up and betray me."

    "Who said I betrayed you?" said Tilly, standing upright, "Your men aren''t that honest of a bunch and��"

    "My men are loyal to me," Larson said glowering, "something you and your father seem to have a problem with."

    "So you want me to...what?"

    Larson''s face darkened and he stepped closer to Tilly, "What I want, is for you to tell me where they are."

    "And why would I know where this group of ''swordsmen'' went?"

    "Do not play dumb with me, Cetilla. You know better than that."

    "What I know, is that I honestly don''t have an answer for you."

    "Oh, don''t you?" Sunken eyes scanned the kitchen and he smirked, "Yet there are extra dishes in the sink?"

    "Yes, left over from dinner last night."

    He hesitated with narrowed eyes locked on her, "You never leave dishes unwashed."

    "You obviously don''t know me that well," Tilly said, turning her back to him.

    A large hand found her throat before she reached the knife left on the kitchen table, and she stiffened.

    Below, Petra jerked forward and Cassius latched his hands on her shoulders to keep her still.

    "Since when did you grow such a backbone?" he mused, almost impressed, "You''re usually such a doormat."

    Tilly remained stone-faced which made him chuckle, "Fin always did say you were a bit...neurotic. Heh, no wonder he left. Can''t even give him a child yet you expect him stay and deal with your hot-and-cold bullshit? Poor man deserves his new woman."

    He pulled her back against him and pressed his hips up into her lower back, whispering in her ear, "At least she''s good in bed and not some...log."

    Blood burned in Tilly''s ears and hot tears pooled in the corner of her eyes, "If you are quite through, please leave. I have dishes to clean."

    "I''ll leave when I''m damn well ready," he said, pulling her head back and exposing her throat. "And right now," he nipped too hard at the skin below her ear, "I''m ready to hear just where those little usurpers are."

    "Why do you care?" Tilly spat, tugging her head away, "They''re just kids passing through, and no threat to you. Two of them can''t even fight."

    "One of those two killed my man! An act I do not take lightly." He tightened his grip on her throat, causing her to gasp, "So before you give me anymore of your bullshit, I''ll ask you to remember our little bargain." He turned her head so she could see her father and the two men flanking his sides, cutting off any escape.

    Tilly gulped against his hold and rose on her toes to speak, "They stayed the night, but left early this morning. I don''t know where they went."

    "So, let me get this straight. You and your father not only abandoned a scavenging mission, but fought against the men I assigned to help you? A fight I might add, that got one of them killed. And then you harbor these ''kids'' and lie to me about it. Is that what happened?" He looked to each of his men who answered with confident nods. "That there seems like a standard breach of contract, if there ever was one!"

    Again, his men nod, some growing a bit too joyous.

    "So now the question becomes, what do we do about it?" He pointed his free hand to Radstrom, "Shirt."

    One of Radstrom''s attendants ripped open his shirt and spun him so the brand leered back at Tilly.

    "You know what that is?" Larson asked, pointing and mimicking Tilly''s nods, "Yes? Well, I''m going to tell you again because I really don''t think you do. That! is what happens when you break a contract! When you break a deal. Do you know what happens when you do that twice?"

    Tilly struggled against his hand to nod, "Yes! Yes, we know!"

    Larson just shook his head with a sigh, "No...no I don''t think you do."

    "No! No, please! Please don��"

    With a flick of his hand, both attendants plunged their daggers into Radstrom''s throat and chest, as if one wasn''t enough.

    "No!" Tilly screamed, her voice breaking in a hoarse rasp.

    Syra went to scream but Aidan slammed his hands over her mouth. Leon buried his face in Syra''s shirt. Petra bit down hard on her lip and they all watched, motionless, as the growing pool of blood spread overhead and seeped down through the cracks. Syra shook and squeezed Aidan''s hands as tiny drops of red dotted her arm and stained her sleeve; the sleeve which Radstrom had earlier mended.

    Radstrom''s body fell with a thud and Tilly screamed until her voice was weak.

    "You monster! How could you? He was just an old man!" She flailed and tugged to escape Larson''s grip, but he did not budge. "Papa!"

    Syra''s breath seize and her hands warmed and tingled.

    The tiny spark of mana caught Aidan''s eye and he whipped her hands under her cloak.

    "Easy, now," he whispered in her ear, and she gulped back her sob.

    "I know it''s hard," Larson cooed after Tilly''s strength had faded, "it''s hard for me, too. But you know what will make this whole thing a lot easier? Telling me where those damn kids are!"

    Tilly let her arms fall and massaged the finger Aidan had promised with. Stretching her neck, she craned her head to look Larson dead in the eyes.

    "Fuck. You."

    A pity-filled sigh accompanied the second hand around her neck, "As you wish."

    Below the blood-soaked boards, Syra''s party huddled and trembled at the sight and sound of Tilly''s strained gasps that grew ever weaker. Until a second thud filled the quiet room, leaving the two bodies together on the floor.

 |Chapter 10| A Ribbon for My Lady

    <hr>

    The Black Thorn members took their time searching and looting the once comforting dwelling. No one stirred or had any temptation to speak. They simply sat, and waited. Waited for the men to search the bedrooms, both floors, and the attic. Waited for some to steal food and valuables while the others searched the stables. Waited for the shock and pain to leave as they did after their fruitless tirade.

    "It''s probably safe now," Aidan said, unhanding Syra and scooting to the trap door. "We should leave before word gets out."

    Cassius helped him pry the door open from under the layer of boots and bags, and pulled Syra and Petra out and onto their feet.

    Syra nearly lost that footing at the full sight of the limp bodies tossed onto the floor. She couldn''t help it--she didn''t care to. The tears came and she stumbled over to Radstrom, and then to Tilly, her voice but a whimper.

    "We did this..." she said, her hands scared to touch Tilly''s body that still gave off heat, "I did this."

    "No," Aidan rejected, "You did not do this. Don''t you think for a second that--"

    "If I hadn''t gone to them...if I hadn''t insisted that we stop to help, they wouldn''t have helped us in return."

    "You couldn''t have known," Cassius said, looking up from the stunned Petra and Leon who sat by Tilly with blank stares.

    "Aidan knew," Syra said, inciting a look of, ''excuse me?'' from him. "He knew it was a trap. But did I listen? No. No, I just kept on going. I spoke first, drew my sword first...they were after us, not them."

    "They," Aidan said, getting in her face, "protected us. That was their mission, to aid and protect travelers on the road. Was it not?"

    Syra nodded.

    "Just like it''s our mission to protect everyone from what will come should Marrak get those stones. So if we don''t do that, if we don''t hold up our end of the deal...then this was for nothing."

    The party fell silent a moment, and Syra clutched Tilly''s hand, which was dainty yet calloused from work.

    "Then let''s get them back," came a low, firm growl from Petra.

    The others looked on confused.

    "Aidan said he knew people who could stop them, permanently. After we take down Marrak, we''ll take them down, too."

    "I thought you didn''t like humans," snarked Aidan.

    "I don''t!" Petra spat back, "just this one." She patted Tilly softly on the head.

    ***

    Sheets were thrown over the bodies and the remaining food was packed. To their surprise, the cart was still camped inside the barn. Larson''s men had taken the potions, salves, and the prettier weapons, anything they knew would bring a high return. Aidan was relieved to see they had not taken his horse.

    "There, there, Leif," he hushed the stallion, stroking its long muzzle, "We''re leaving right now."

    He hitched Leif to the cart and they bid farewell to the house and their fallen friends.

    "We should stay off the main roads," said Aidan to Leon, "we need to avoid anymore run-ins like that".

    Leon agreed and led them onto a backroad that wound around fenced pastures and crop fields, and over a stream who''s bridge was in need of repair. While the trip took twice as long, they met only livestock before arriving at the main stretch of town.

    "We should get more supplies," Aidan said, being the first to speak since their departure, "Two canteens won''t be enough for all of us."

    Petra and Srya took off towards the well in the center of town, "We''ll go fill these up."

    Aidan nodded and clicked his tongue to lead Leif after them.

    "How far are we from Edgewood?" Petra asked Leon, cranking the handle and pulling the bucket from the stone well.

    "Hmm, it''s a day''s ride, so we better plan for at least two," he said, rubbing his tiny hairless chin.

    "Meaning we''ll have to stay the night here," Syra said with concern. After this morning, she wasn''t fond of the idea of staying near the city.

    "There are plenty of inns to choose from, and guards posted on almost every corner," said Aidan, "We''ll be fine."

    Neither Syra nor Petra seemed convinced.

    "Hope you''re right," Petra said under her breath as she filled their canteens.

    "Excuse me, miss?" A man of dark hair and beard said as he approached Petra, "Can I ask where you got that ribbon?"

    Petra was taken aback briefly, but he kept his distance and had a gentle look about him.

    "Oh, dear, I''m sorry. That must have come off quite odd." The man apologized and thumped a thinking finger against his own canteen, "I was waiting my turn here, you see, and I couldn''t help but notice that ribbon in your hair, and how similar it looks to one I once had." He smiled and pointed to the green-and-gold ribbon Tilly had tied in Petra''s hair.

    "You once had?" Petra questioned, running a critical eye over his short mop of hair.

    "Yes! You see I gave it to a lady friend of mine who lives not too far from here. A courting gift, I guess you could say. Anyways, I have yet to see another quite like it ''round here and thought it a tad curious."

    Syra tugged lightly on Petra''s arms, a warning to watch what she said. But Petra continued to study the man, especially his eyes as they were clear and did not waver under her hard gaze.

    "A courting gift, you say?" Petra asked.

    "Hehe, why yes," he said flushing, "I frequent the little inn she and her father run during my trips--I''m a merchant, you see--and I seem to have fallen quite hard for her." He laughed at himself and Syra looked away.

    "You mean, Tilly?" Petra blinked any sign of sorrow away.

    "Yes, yes! You know her? Isn''t she wonderful?"

    "Quite." She nodded with a wry smile. "She bandaged me up when I was hurt, and then gave me this." She pointed to her stubby ponytail. "Don''t know why, exactly, but I kind of like it."

    "Haha! That''s Tilly for you. Giving herself even if you might not deserve it. Do tell me, how is she nowadays?"

    Petra flinched. Her words clung to her chest despite his prying eyes. At this point, she had to look away.

    The man''s cheery disposition fell as he saw the long faces of all four comrades, "Is she alright? What happened?"

    No one spoke.

    "Please," he begged, forcing himself to remain composed, "Please, I need to know. Can I be of any help? Where is she now?"

    "Dead," Petra said, "She''s dead. Both her and Radstrom."

    "What?" The man''s voice broke.

    "Just this morning," Cassius added, "A group of men came and..."

    "A group of men--who?! Who were these men?!" The man''s face grew red.

    "The Black Thorn," Aidan said, making the man''s mouth shut. "That''s what Tilly said before they barged in."

    "And what of you four? Did they hurt you? Did you fight?"

    "We wanted to," Syra spoke up softly.

    "Wanted to?"

    "Tilly made us hide. Under the floorboards. Until they left. We...we saw everything."

    The man''s rage ebbed when he saw the scaring hid behind their straight faces, "And the bodies?"

    "Covered," Aidan said. "We feared being seen if we took the time to bury them. I''m sorry."

    "I see," said the man, running a hand hard through his ruffled hair. "Well, we''ll need to send people to take care of them properly--I mean I will need to. You''ve dealt with enough."

    He sighed and bit his quivering lip, then cleared his throat, "Where are you headed?"

    "Pardon?" Cassius asked, catching on late.

    "If you were staying with Tilly, I assume you''re travelling."

    "Oh, yes. We''re going to Edgewood."

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    "In that case, you''ll need a place to stay." He thought for a moment, then groaned, "Oh, why not? It''s what Tilly would''ve done."

    "What is?" Petra asked.

    "Come with me," the man said, "You can stay at my place. I''ll have to leave to...take care of things, but feel free to relax until I get back."

    The man took up his canteen and hopped up on his horse, "Just follow me."

    Petra caught hold of his pant leg before he went off, and he looked down surprised.

    "Thank you," she said before letting him go.

    The man said nothing, only smiled then trotted off, waiting for them to follow.

    ***

    "The name''s Ros," the man said when they arrived at the storefront, "Living quarters are upstairs."

    The store was a decent size, enough to tell that Ros certainly knew his business. Behind the building was a small stable where Ros stored his own horse and Leif.

    "You merchants, as well?" Ros asked, noticing the cart.

    "No," Aidan said, unhitching it, "just returning it."

    "Returning it?"

    "We found it," Syra explained, "The note said it was from Edgewood, and since we were heading there anyway, we figured we''d bring it with us."

    "Huh," Ros stood in slight awe, "maybe I wasn''t wrong to trust you." He chuckled, "Well, entrance is this way. Mind your step."

    Ros held the door open as Syra, Petra, and Cassius ascended the stairs into the living area, but stopped Aidan at the door.

    "You said it was the Black Thorn that killed Tilly?" he asked, serious.

    "Yes, they all wore bronze coins."

    "I see," Ros paused to think.

    "Are they common around here?"

    Ros nodded with a grieved face, "And growing. Mostly in the poorer areas, but I''ve heard they''re getting a stronger hold even in Renguard now. Many of my friends and merchant buddies are getting scared they''re getting too large."

    "Isn''t the city guard taking care of it? That''s what they''re trained for."

    "You''d think that, but it''s like they''re not even aware of it. Or just plain ignoring it. What I don''t understand is, why hasn''t Altaira done anything about it? With their army the Black Thorn wouldn''t stand a chance."

    Aidan cursed to himself, angry that it had taken him so long to discover them, "Maybe they just don''t know."

    "Don''t know, my ass! They''re the capital. They''re supposed to support us smaller cities. What else are my taxes for?"

    Aidan thought on this a moment, then winced at a sudden realization, "There is always the possibility of traitors; officials who side with the Black Thorn and alter, or ignore, any information coming from those smaller cities."

    "Well, that''s just lovely," Ros said, shaking his head. "What''s going to become of this place if we start fighting and killing each other?"

    "It seems we''ve already started."

    "Well then," Ros said with a huff, "I''m going to go talk to those friends and buddies of mine and see if we''re not the only ones completely put out by these...renegades. If the guards won''t do anything, then we''ll just have to do it ourselves."

    "Careful, now," Aidan warned, "Tilly said that''s just how they started."

    Ros gripped him tight on the shoulder, "Aye, you''re right. Thank you, son. Now, get your scrawny ass up there and rest. You leave early tomorrow."

    ***

    That night, after they had eaten, Ros still hadn''t return.

    "Perhaps he had to travel a ways," Cassius said when Syra voiced her concern.

    "The meeting probably just went long," said Aidan, enjoying the plushness of Ros'' sofa. "I''ve known very few that didn''t. Plus," he closed his book, the words beginning to blur as sleep creeped in, "they had to bury Tilly and Radstrom."

    "I''m going to sleep," Petra announced, refusing to wait any longer.

    "Good idea," said Cassius, following Petra down the hallway to the guest rooms, and leaving Aidan to watch Syra stare out the window.

    "Are we ever going to talk about it?" Syra asked after some silence.

    "About what?" Aidan asked from the arm of the couch, avoiding the subject.

    "Us," she said, staring directly at him.

    He sighed, "There is no ''us''. I told you that already."

    "I know that, but what I still don''t understand is, why?"

    "And what I still don''t understand is, how you can expect me to trust you like nothing happened?" He looked up from the floor and met her gaze head-on.

    "What''s not to trust?"

    He blinked in astonishment, "You lied to me, Syra."

    "Not outrightly."

    "No, you just failed to mention that you''re a bloody dragon." He clawed at the lining of the sofa. "My brother was killed by one of you. You can''t blame me for being wary. I saw him burnt, and blistered...like his skin wasn''t skin anymore. And then he...just died. Right there, in front of me."

    I know. I was there, too.

    She pushed the smell of charred skin from her nose, only to recall the face that scorched it.

    "Not all of us are bad, Aidan. We''re fighting the same enemy."

    "You still lied," he said, standing to confront her. "You lied the whole time."

    "I''m still the same person--"

    "You''re not a person."

    "Whatever, same being." She stood upright and puffed her chest a little, "You know that dragon that saved you when you were boy? When Marrak attacked and you were running from that ogre? That was me."

    Aidan''s eyes grew wide. He had had his suspicions, but questioned everything he thought nowadays.

    "That ''beast'' is the same little girl who became your best friend, who let you cheat off her when you didn''t study, who cried when she didn''t get the last slice of pie."

    "You had two."

    "And you still snuck into the kitchen to get me another one! That girl is still here."

    "No!" Aidan stopped to lower his voice, "No, she''s not. What''s here is a giant...lizard disguised as her. A reflection, a mirage. Literally, you glow when you shift! It''s a lie. How am I supposed to know if anything you say, or feel, is true?"

    "Then why did you come? If you hate me so much--"

    "I don''t hate you."

    "If I''m so untrustworthy, why bother helping? This is my mission, after all."

    "Because Valen asked me to."

    Her shoulders drooped, "Why? Does he not trust me either?"

    "He was worried about you...and us. Said that trust can be ''regrown'', which I am trying desperately to believe! But, also because this rebellion would impact the entire kingdom, and as a leader it is my duty to protect it."

    "Yeah, that sounds like him."

    "Anyway, Syra, what do you want from me? To forget that we''re not even the same species? ''Cause that''s a lot to get over and, honestly, a bit unfair to ask at the moment."

    "What do I want?" Syra throttle a scream. "I want to go home. To crawl back in bed and sleep for a week. I want Nelly to pat my head and tell me everything''s alright, and to eat graduation cake with Ricca and Rimmel." Her eyes darted to the guest room door. "I want my brother and sister to think I''m more than just a liability, and..." her eyes beseeched him, "I want the man I fell in love with to remember who I really am."

    "You''re not even human! How does this even work?" He asked, pointing back and forth between them.

    "You know exactly how this works," She sneered, mimicking him, "So, now the question becomes, what do you want, Aidan?"

    "I want...time," Aidan said, shoulders sagging, "Time to think. Without the constant pleading of your eyes on me. This is our mission, and I promise to help anyway I can. But I cannot think straight, let alone sort out my emotions, with you moping around me."

    "Do I look like I''m moping?" Syra said with an indignant turn of her head.

    "You radiate mopiness. Even with a smile, you do. I know you."

    "I thought you said you didn''t."

    Aidan let out a long sigh, "Look, I just need time. Can you give me that?"

    Syra let her anger fade and then curtsied, "As you wish, my prince."

    He groaned, "Really? How old are you?"

    Syra didn''t listen and headed off to bed, leaving Aidan exasperated.

    He rested the back of his head against the window pane and Leon fluttered over to his shoulder.

    "Hey, Bati..."

    "Not now, Leon."

    "You know--"

    "I said, not now, Leon."

    The pixie ignored him, "I was just curious about one thing."

    Aidan sighed, "What?"

    "You''re engaged?"

    "Was."

    Leon left his shoulder and hovered in his face, "Meaning you did love her at some point?"

    "Aye."

    "And now you''re letting her go because she looks different?"

    "It''s more complicated than that."

    "You know looks aren''t permanent."

    "Obviously."

    "You know I''m not letting this go."

    "Go to sleep, Leon," Aidan left the Fae by the window and ducked into the hallway.

    "I''m watching you!" Leon called after him, pointing a tiny finger.

    In the shadow of the hall, Aidan put a hand to his chest and gripped at the ring hanging under his shirt. He didn''t want to hang on to it, to cling to it like a lost puppy, but he didn''t want to give up either.

    "...and I don''t need any more for you!" Syra''s voice rang from a bedroom.

    Aidan caught Syra arguing with Petra as he passed their room.

    Syra gave him a short, icy stare then turned with a huff, throwing up two glowing hands, lifting up the blankets, jumping in bed, then throwing them over herself.

    Aidan went to respond, but Petra cut him off with a pointed finger, "I am having no part in this. Good night."

    Aidan just stood there and looked to Cassius, who also stood speechless. They both sighed and Aidan closed their door, following Cassius into their room for the night.

    ***

    Despite his earlier drowsing, Aidan found sleep an elusive ally. The fat moon shone bright into his window and his mind gave him no reprieve from its repetitions of his argument with Syra.

    Clang!

    The faint sound of metal falling roused him fully from bed. Outside the window, he could hear shuffling and muffled curses. Sliding out of bed, he saw Petra in the yard outside by the stable, sword in hand and swinging over and over.

    "She''s practicing," he mused to himself, surprised by her diligence.

    As he watched from the window, he saw her toss the sword from one hand to the other. Both were equally nimble, but she had trouble keeping it steady. Its weight was wearing her down.

    The chance for sleep was gone. Aidan tip-toed passed the slumbering Cassius and grabbed his cloak, boots, and sword, and padded down the stairs.

    He left the door slightly ajar so to not cause noise, and approached Petra.

    At the sound of footsteps, Petra spun around, tossing the sword to her left hand and pointing it to his throat.

    "Can I help you?" She was still huffing and sweat beaded at her brow.

    "It''s too heavy." Aidan said, ignoring the blade.

    "Excuse me?"

    "The sword. It''s made for two hands, not one."

    Petra scoffed and resumed her practice, "Maybe for humans."

    "You look pretty human."

    "Tell that to Syra," Petra spat.

    Aidan''s words caught in his throat.

    "I might look pathetic," Petra said in between swings, "but you know damn well I could still break your spine." Petra''s breath came in shallow bursts.

    Aidan chuckled and stepped forward, "Aye."

    His approach warranted a second warning blow from her blade, this time an inch from his nose. A smirk cracked his face. The blade was quivering.

    "You''re strong, Petra."

    "What does a human know of strength?" Petra continued to swing the unsteady blade.

    "You''re strong," Aidan repeated, "but you lack endurance."

    "Oh really?" Petra let her blade drop to her side, her deltoids twitching, "Have you ever flown transcontinental? Have you?" She was curiously quiet.

    "I don''t know much about dragon culture or history, but I do know they''re in a time of peace, correct?"

    "Your point?"

    "Natural strength can only get you so far. And you have had no need to practice."

    Aidan trotted over to the cart, eyeing the left over weapons. Choosing one, he tossed her a sword with a twin hilt which she caught with ease. He motioned for a trade and she conceded with a sneer.

    "Try it," he said backing away.

    Her stroke was swift and nearly knocked her off balance. Aidan slapped a hand over his mouth to hold in his laugh.

    "Shut up," she glowered.

    A lunge and more strikes gained her control, her scowl ebbing with each swing.

    "Ready for the best part?" Aidan asked, his hand asking for the blade back.

    Petra met his outstretched hand with a raised eyebrow, but handed it over.

    A quick toggle of the hilt unclasped the pair of twin blades, and the flick of his wrists brightened Petra''s gold eyes that followed their precise and fluid movements.

    "You''ve used these before?" Petra''s bedazzlement was cut short by swift blades crossed at her neck, and Aidan''s black eyes locked inches from hers.

    "Once or twice." The smirk returned to his face and the blades returned to Petra, "Not many people are two-handed. Use them to your advantage."

    Spurts of laughter bubbled from Petra as she spun and spun with the twins. A rare sight, Aidan figured, given her usual demeanor.

    "Make sure to get some sleep, you hear? Or you won''t like yourself in the morning."

    Petra waved him off and he took his leave.

    He returned to the loft, his eyes finally weary. The moonlight covering Syra''s blanket caught his eye, and the image of a joyous Petra brought memories of Syra''s first lesson. She was quick, and agile. Not strong like her sister, but a natural among her troop. It was then, perhaps, watching her lighthearted glee infect their entire patrol, that he had felt that spark; an ember that would kindle through training and missions and god-awful dinner parties. But that was then.

    Aidan shoved the nostalgia back into their box and resigned himself to his bed and his blanket and the promise of sleep. But the sky was bright, his pulse still quick, and his eyes stubbornly wandered to the small bundle across the hall that snored so faintly, yet his ears couldn''t help but hear.

    Kim taf nav eth , ni vasi sum

    Mi rumi kaa?, ni krimet dah sen

    Gahl hal sah

    T��kad ni t��riin, mi rumi va rumah

    Sang the bundle, its voice feint and thick with dreaming; a song Aidan had heard many times, but was too peaceful to stop. He grimaced and berated himself. The truth had been in front of him the whole time, yet he chose to ignore it.

    With a heavy sigh, Aidan tore his eyes away, turned his back, and pulled his blanket over his head, "I''m not sorry."

 |Chapter 11| The Witchs Mirror

    <hr>

    The morning came too early for Aidan and Petra. While Aidan took his foggy head in stride, Petra glared at him from her seat on the cart.

    "I hate you," Petra grumbled to Aidan who, despite his fatigue, still led them onward towards Edgewood.

    "I told you to get some sleep," he said, wishing he had taken his own advice.

    "Still hate you. I hate this town for being so far away, I hate this cart for making my rump sore, and I hate the sun for coming up when I just wanted to sleep."

    "Is she always this grumpy?" Aidan whispered to Cassius.

    "Oh, yes," Cassius laughed.

    "Just be thankful there was food to pacify her," Syra said, bounding up to Cassius, "Otherwise, you might have lost your head."

    "I heard that!"

    "At least you got a new toy, right?" said Cassius.

    Petra scowled back at him, but hugged the twin blades lying in her lap.

    The trip had gone smoother than expected. Ros had given them each a bag with travel essentials, including rations to the siblings'' delight, and fair weather made the hours seem to pass quicker.

    It was this last leg of the trail that became more arduous. The rolling hills of farmland grew into foothills at the base of the Elder Mountains. The road wound through the valleys and over streams at a steady incline, and they had to stop to rest a few times on the way. By the time the city was visible in the distance, Leif was aglitter in sweat.

    "We''re here, we''re here!" Leon chattered when they neared the simple, but strong gates of Edgewood.

    They stopped briefly for the guards to examine them and their load. But upon seeing the herbs and Syra''s earring��and getting an earful from Leon��they had no further questions.

    "Welcome to Edgewood!" cheered Leon. He flitted about the street like a child released for recess and waved them onward, "Baba''s place is this way!"

    Surrounded by trees with the gray mountains looming in the distance, the city had a serene feel. The bright greens of spring leaves accentuated the stained wooden buildings, and the cobblestone roads were clean and new.

    Syra gawked at the crowds that wove among the streets of such a small city. Most went about their shopping and gossip, and the merchants called out their deals of the day. All were lively. Even the carpenters renovating the older buildings told jokes while they cut and hammered away. A stark difference from Landelle.

    "Wow. Well, I''m impressed," Cassius said, as if reading her thoughts, "I honestly wasn''t expecting something so...nice."

    "Heehee," Leon beamed and hurried the group down the shop-lined street. "It''s come a long way. You wouldn''t have recognized it a few years ago."

    "How so?" Aidan asked, taking in the array of magical and mundane items displayed on stands and behind windows.

    "When the alliance between humans and dragons broke, we lost our supply of mana crystals. So, we had to find them elsewhere. Luckily, Edgewood happens to sit right next to a Sylic vein. That''s why you''ll see so many miners around here. It''s really quite booming and has done wonders for the people here."

    As they turned onto the main street, Syra''s attention snapped to the handful of tall figures intermingling within the crowd.

    "Even Tal come here?" Syra said in surprise, noticing the pointed ears sticking out beneath their silken hair.

    "Why wouldn''t they?" Leon asked, "They live just up the mountain. My favorite boutique is owned by one, actually." He tapped his tiny silver ear cuff, showing it off.

    "No wonder so many people come here," Syra said, resiting the urge to find the closest bakery. "There''re so many choices."

    "And! it''s surrounded by all kinds of magical plants and bugs and critters. Baba''s twice as busy as she was just a year ago."

    "Speaking of Baba," Petra piped up, "are we there yet?" Her wound was starting to dry and scab, and the itching only added to her irritability.

    "Oh, right right!" said Leon, flying off down the street and waving them over, "It''s just a few more streets over."

    Past the busy main street and down a quieter side road that wound up into the hill, sat the quaint little cottage bordered by gardens on all sides. The front yard wasn''t intended to be a garden. Baba had simply let it go too long and had resigned herself to ''keeping it natural''. In truth, she was just too lazy to bother with it.

    Knock knock knock! went Leon''s tiny fists on the door, "Old lady, Baba! I''ve brought people to see you."

    "How many times do I have to tell you, I''m not old!" came a scratchy but full voice from inside.

    "They brought your cart back."

    "Oh, goody! I wondered where he wandered off to."

    Faint blue light glimmered around the door''s edge, and with the click of a latch it swung open.

    "Come on in!"

    Inside, the cottage was cluttered with jars and bottles containing colorful liquids. Herbs spilled from baskets on tall shelves lining the walls, and an alchemist set bubbled on the center table.

    "Excuse the mess, dearies. Allergy season has me busy busy."

    An aging woman with braids like woven silver tottled about, waving long, shimmering fingers. Brooms zipped about sweeping, overturned containers righted themselves and found their proper places, and the fireplace ignited itself under a small cauldron. In moments all was put into picturesque order. And yet, compared to her humble furnishings, this vibrant woman in painted silk robe and feathered cowl appeared startling out of place. Like an exotic bird in the town display. She certainly looked like one in all her flailing, and Syra muted a laugh at how the plumes about her neck made her out like a ruffled show-chicken.

    Bark!

    A sudden yap from the fireplace snapped Syra from her snickering.

    "Oh, no," said Leon. He braced himself as a small, but a little rotund, pup leapt from the embers to greet him with steaming jowls.

    "Yes, hello to you, too, Yorkshire." He feigned politeness as he hovered inches above the Fire Pit''s excited leaps and snapping mouth.

    Petra covered her nose with a scowl, "With all these plants I''m surprised you''re not miserable."

    "Ironic, isn''t it?" Baba chuckled as she straightened a basket of dried, pink flowers. "Plants that can cure a stuffy nose, can also cause one."

    "Excuse me, Laby Baba?" Aidan asked as he stepped inside, "Where did you want the cart?"

    "The cart? Oh, yes! Don''t worry about him deary, he''s already found his way home."

    Baba pointed out the window and both Syra and Aidan startled at the cart putting itself��and Leif�� away in the empty stable outback.

    "Is that..." asked Aidan.

    Syra smushed her cheek against the window and caught a glimpse of the runes shimmering across its frame.

    "Animancy?" Syra turned a stunned, but curious, eye to Baba.

    "Only Magus are allowed to use that," Aidan said, taking a step between Syra and the witch.

    "I thought you said she was a Green Witch," he hushed down at Syra.

    "I''m a lot of things, dearie." The scars speckling her forehead creased as she smiled. "But right now, this businesswoman is curious as to why you''ve come to my shop. It couldn''t have been to just return my cart��you even left my wares in tact. So, what do you actually want?"

    Syra studied the jewel-toned woman smiling in front of them. So unassuming at first glance, but her smile made no effort to hide the fact that she had secrets.

    If she''s actually able to perform animancy, and without Court interference, then she must be a powerful mage. Maybe even an archmage.

    Syra stepped around Aidan and confronted the witch with steady gaze.

    "Tell me, does this mean anything to you?" She held up her hand, brandishing the silver band on her finger.

    Baba''s eyes went wide at the glinting ring. But then they creased as a true grin stretched across her face, and her arms stretched wide.

    "Syra?" Baba latched both arms around her and squeezed hard enough to make Syra squeak. "Good Erd, why didn''t you just say something? You had me worried the Council was calling again."

    "We weren''t sure we could trust you," Syra managed to squelch out before Baba released her. "Valen didn''t say just who we were meeting. Just gave me a map and said, ''go''."

    "Aiya," Baba groaned, "that boy is great at following orders, but still has horrible communication skills."

    "Alright then, now that I know I won''t have to turn you into a side table," she waved for them to follow her into the small living room, "come come! Put your things down and rest a bit. You''ll stay here for the night."

    She waved a shimmering hand at the wall and the bottom half folded outward into the room, revealing a plush bed, "For the lovely couple."

    Aidan waved it away, "Oh, no, we''re not��"

    "And for the twins," a flick of her wrist brought a set of bunk beds down next to it.

    "Seriously?" said Petra.

    "I thought we were done with those," said Cassius.

    "Haha!" Baba laughed at the twins'' annoyed faces. "Nova told me you two shared twin ledges, so I decided, why not?"

    "Wait. You knew our mother?" Syra asked, freezing in place.

    The room went quiet and the air became thick and still.

    "Indeed!" said Baba. Her eyes were bright, but their crystal blue held a buried remorse. "She was a student of mine at one time. Quite the mage, that one." They narrowed just a slight as she gazed at Syra, "But I hear she has a promising successor. Valen tells me you might even be a better healer than she was."

    Syra swallowed the knot forming in her throat and grinned.

    From the corner of his eye, Aidan caught Petra clench her jaw and turn her attention to the set of bunk beds, feigning interest in the quilted blankets. But, to the side of the beds, a mirror reflected back at him and lured his attention away.

    "Is that an actual seeing glass?" Aidan approached the old but ornate mirror, changing the subject.

    "You mean a looking glass?" Leon said, fluttering with confidence above Aidan''s shoulder.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    "I''m not stupid, Leon." He pointed to the glowing flower bud at the mirror''s top corner, "Father used to have one until its conduit died."

    "Well let''s test it out, shall we?" Leon hiked down his britches and waved his exposed behind at the mirror, "Mirror, mirror, made of glass, show this boy my shiny a��"

    "Leon!" Baba snapped and Leon froze with his tush in the air. "Is that any way for a squire to behave?"

    Leon adjusted himself with a reddened face, "N-no, ma''am!"

    "Wait. You''re a squire?" Aidan asked, half laughing.

    Leon whipped out his toothpick of a saber and poked its tip to Aidan''s nose, "Aye! And if you got a problem with that, I will sew your mouth shut, Bati or not."

    "Is that any way for a squire to act?" Aidan mocked.

    "Aye, it''s called honor. Are you familiar with that term, my prince?" Leon hissed low, shoving his sword at the ring hiding under his shirt.

    "Aidan''s right," Syra said, approaching the mirror and analyzing the lacey leafing around its frame. "I remember seeing a similar mirror in Valen''s chamber."

    "You still go there?" Aidan asked with a light sneer.

    "He is my mentor."

    "Was your mentor."

    "Oh, good Lord, just stop," Petra said with an eyeroll that nearly threw her backwards.

    "Ah!" Babe cried out.

    All hushed and whipped their eyes to Baba, hands on their hilts.

    "I completely forgot our meeting! Leon, why didn''t you remind me?"

    "Um...I was kind of locked in box until now."

    The entire room exhaled in relief.

    Aidan relaxed his hand, "What meeting?"

    "Scoot scoot, thank you," Baba scuttled between Syra and Aidan and grazed her finger along the bud''s petals, causing it unfurl and reveal the luminescent spider inside. She gave the webbing a quick tap and the spider flickered in technicolor, sending light pulsing through the threaded leafing.

    "So sorry, Valen! Got a bit caught-up," she said as light flickered from the mirror and Valen appeared on the other side.

    "Oh, it''s quite alright," said the image in the mirror, "I''m just relieved they got there safely."

    "Valen!" Syra shoved her face in front of the mirror and grinned wide��she could see his study in the background.

    Knew it.

    "Why, hello, Syra," he said with a chuckle and scooted closer to get a better look, "You''re looking better. Been drinking your tea like I told you?"

    "Yes, sir," she with a proud nod, "every day."

    "Glad to hear it. Keep it up. I see the twins there," he gave a little wave to Petra and Cassius who sat on the edge of their bunks, "Seems they''ve grown accustomed to their new forms."

    "Suck a toad!" Petra snarled back at him. "I still haven''t forgiven you for cursing us!"

    "Don''t you worry, Petra, I''ll fix you two right up once everything is taken care of."

    "You better."

    He turned his attention to Aidan, who remained silent, "How are things are your end, Aidan? Anything to report?"

    "Report?" Syra asked.

    "Your hunch was correct," Aidan said, ignoring her, "There''s definitely unrest building out here." He paused and clenched his jaw, wording his thoughts, "It was a tough trip to get here."

    Valen''s peppy attitude turned grave, "I see. That''s quite unfortunate. Is everyone alright?"

    Aidan nodded and glanced down at Syra, who avoided his gaze as to avoid answering the question.

    "Everyone is fine, for now," he continued, "Petra and Cassius got some bad scrapes, but they''re healing quickly."

    "As they should...can you explain what happened?"

    Aidan described the events of the previous days as Valen tried to temper his disgust, but his reddened cheeks betrayed him. A heavy sigh let off some of the steam, and he rested his forehead on his hands.

    "That''s worse than I thought. You said the man''s name was Larson?"

    "Yes, sir."

    "And were you able to dig up any information on him or his people?"

    "Only that they call themselves, the Black Thorn, and they''re growing stronger. A man in Landelle said he had friends in Renguard who have begun to see their handiwork."

    "So, it is them," Valen said, glancing to Baba, "If they''re in Renguard already, it''s probably safe to assume they''re even as south as Dairos. They''re spreading faster than anticipated."

    Baba''s eyes clouded over, "Hate always does."

    "Wait," Cassius said from behind them, "you two already knew about them?"

    "We knew of stories," Baba corrected, "Hearsay from travelers, patrons, barkeeps, and the like. I had also started noticing those bronze coins becoming more popular. I thought it just a new fashion trend, but now..."

    "You four are going to have to be even more diligent now," Valen said, eyeing Syra. "Talian and Kiithrani territory should be fairly safe, but do try to keep a low profile when around human areas. Even then, I wouldn''t put it past them to recruit other races. Do you understand?"

    "I understand avoiding situations like the carriage," said Syra, "but you''re talking like our faces are on bounty flyers."

    "I doubt I need to remind you of your banishment status," Valen said, giving her a warning stare. "Plenty of people saw you that day, and not all of them were Altaira locals. You don''t want to be recognized."

    Syra lowered her head with a quick nod, "Understood."

    "Does Father know about this?" Aidan piped up. "Why am I just now finding out about this? If they''ve grow large enough for concern, they must have been around for a while. The guards around here haven''t even been told how to handle them!"

    "Easy, Aidan," Valen hushed. "They haven''t been told yet because we don''t know how to handle them yet. The King is aware of the situation and working with his officials to finalize a plan."

    At this, panic swelled through the party.

    "Perfect!" Petra said, flopping down on the mattress, "I love it."

    "Hush, Petra," Syra scolded.

    Petra flashed her teeth, "Make me."

    "You don''t even like humans, so this doesn''t concern you."

    "Actually, it does," Valen said with some hesitation.

    "What do you mean?" Syra and Aidan exchanged worried looks, seeing how wrinkled his brow had become.

    Baba raised a concerned eyebrow, "Valen, are you absolutely sure you want to do this? Gold light casts long shadows."

    "The pieces are already moving, Baba. Plus," his clay-brown eyes muddied over, "they''ll learn about it sooner or later."

    "I don''t like this," Aidan said.

    Valen steeled himself, "I was going to wait until you collected the first two shards since you wouldn''t be in human territory, but it seems time is more of an enemy than we originally thought."

    "Just spill it, Valen," said Aidan.

    Valen gave Baba a long look.

    "You started this," she said, backing off with raised hands.

    "The reason why we don''t know how to deal with the Black Thorn yet," he started with a deep breath, "is because we don''t know how to take on its leader."

    Aidan blinked in confusion a moment, "How hard can that be? From what we''ve seen, they''re all working class folks with a bad grudge. Altaira''s army alone could snuff them out."

    "We have reason to believe that Marrak is their leader," Valen said with a straight face.

    Syra''s blood ran cold.

    "B-but, he''s a dragon!" Syra said, panicked, "And not a small one, either."

    "As are you," Valen said, causing her to flinch. "You think you''re the only one who can shift?" His voice took on a condescending hiss, fed by fear and the knowledge of how outmatched they were. "Did I not tell you he was an archmage? He could have three forms if he wanted, and you wouldn''t be any the wiser."

    Syra bit the inside of her cheek and wrung her hands, unable to speak.

    "That''s why it''s so imperative you keep your heads down," Baba added. "He knows about the Kesh Raza, but we don''t need him knowing that you''re the ones collecting the shards from under his nose."

    Syra''s head swam and her hands felt clammy.

    "Why would Marrak even bother to mess with humans, let alone lead them?" Petra asked. "He could just burn them to the ground if he wanted."

    "What he wants are the shards," Aidan said and Valen nodded. "He knows he couldn''t take them himself, so who better to use than dumb, unassuming humans to steal them right from under our noses? Even better if he can win over other races."

    "Meaning we better hike double-time," said Cassius, standing.

    "Right now, you need to sit," Baba said, pushing him back down, "and rest. The sun is setting and you leave for Kor Lahru tomorrow. Your feet will thank you."

    "Kor Lahru?" Syra asked, spinning to Valen. "But that''s Fae grounds."

    "And it''s forbidden to humans," added Aidan.

    "This is quite the exception," Valen said. "The first shard is under the protection of Vesna, the Fae Queen. She will be expecting you. However, Aidan..." he shot the human prince a stern look, "you must show the upmost respect. Vesna''s grudge is longstanding but her patience is not. Pray you stay in her favor."

    "Yes, sir, understood." Aidan''s firm nod hid the glint of excitement for exploring the forbidden fairy fields.

    "Excellent. After you retrieve the shard, head east to Mirna. King Tahlu will escort you to the Tal''s shard. We will reconvene then. Forewarning, it''s quite a hike up Mount Tenlok and its weather can be unpredictable this time of year, so go prepared." He looked to Baba, "I trust Baba can help with that."

    "You question me after all these years?" Baba asked with a snicker.

    "Good, I''ll leave it to you. I''ll go inform King Rogan of the new information regarding the Black Thorn. Please, take care of yourselves."

    With that the light faded and left them to stare at their own reflections.

    "I can''t believe I''m going to Kor Lahru." Aidan strangled a squeal. "No one''s seen that place in decades."

    "Hold on." Leon''s head perked up and he hovered just above the dusty teacup he was sitting in. "If they''re going to Kor Lahru, then..."

    "Yes, Leon," said Baba, "you''re going, too. I wouldn''t trust anyone else to guide them. Plus," her eyes nearly disappeared behind their creases as she smiled at the giddy pixie, "when was the last time you went home?"

    ***

    Night sung of a soft breeze, tiny insects, and the wispy snore from Cassius'' bunk. This night, clouds covered the moon and it was Syra who couldn''t find sleep.

    She stared at the dark hump curled up in the cinders of the fireplace. Yorkshire''s tongue lolled out of his mouth and a paw twitched with happy dreaming. The bed was soft, but she was painfully aware of the mound of blankets separating her and Aidan. She could still feel his warmth and his scent made her ache to flip over and bury her face in his shaggy hair.

    "I need...time." His words clawed at her chest.

    Ugh. This isn''t working.

    She slid from the bed and stood, silent, in the middle of the room. Her eyes wandered about, from the wad of blankets topped with Aidan''s disheveled locks, to her slumbering siblings sprawled out in their bunks. Petra had lost her blankets to the floor and Cassius'' wound was barely a scar at this point.

    A scar. A thin sliver of fresh skin. Like the pale, slick blisters left by dragonfire on her comrade''s bodies. Just like the one''s on Ethan''s body all those years ago. Charred and red. Red, like the gash in her father''s neck. Image after image bubbled up from the chest she had stuffed them in. Red, like the fiery lines between Marrak''s scales. Like his eyes as they locked onto her as a wolf stares at a slab of meat.

    Can we actually do this? The cold grip of fear slithered over her. She padded over to the kitchen and fetched herself some water to calm her nerves. No, we have to. We don''t have a choice.

    The scent of old flowers and ash drew her attention from her glass to a door left slightly ajar.

    On the back porch in an old rocker sat Baba, puffing at an old wooden pipe. A night breeze wafted the silver trail over Syra, the cloud tickling her throat and making her cough.

    "Funny, isn''t it?" Baba said, keeping her gaze fixed on the flickering lights of evening bugs floating about the garden.

    "What is?" Syra asked, covering her face.

    "How being away from something for so long can make the normal seem overbearing."

    She peeked at Syra from the corner of her eye and chuckled at her confused expression.

    "I bet your lair was full of smoke," she said, raising her pipe, "yet a wisp now makes you cough."

    "Isn''t too much smoke bad for humans?"

    "Too much of anything is bad for anyone. So, you just leave an old woman her pleasures."

    "I thought you said you weren''t old."

    Baba just grinned, "Cheeky little thing, aren''t you? Just like your mother."

    Syra froze a moment, her mind racing to memories of the pearlescent dragoness teaching her to hunt, and fly, and prank her father with frozen treats and belching potions.

    "What was she like?" Syra finally asked in a small voice. "I barely remember anything outside the den."

    "Oh, that''s right," said Baba, "you weren''t much older than a hatching when she died. Quite a shame, really. You remind me of her; had a sharp mind, but could also have a sharp tongue when she wanted to. Though, I will say Petra seems to have inherited her intolerance for nonsense...and Cassius her compassion. Yes," she said, looking up at Syra, "I think she would be proud of all of you."

    "Your father chose well," she continued, seeing the desperation on Syra''s face. "She was kind and just, and so very patient with you wyrmlings. A tad self-centered when she was younger, but that''s to be expected of any youngling. She loved just as strongly as she fought. Too strongly if I''m perfectly honest. Whether it was over stolen prey or because I wasn''t teaching spells quick enough, she was determined to get what she wanted or fix whatever needed fixing. Be it through magic or fire. Everything was done with purpose."

    Baba smiled and padded Syra on the arm, "You would have learned a lot from her. But," she booped her on the nose with a thin finger, "as her prior teacher I have at least one lesson for you."

    "Oh?" Syra asked, straightening, "What is it?"

    "Go to bed! How many times do I have to tell you younglings that a long journey requires ample rest?"

    Syra laughed and put up her hands in surrender.

    "Now go. Shoo, shoo." Baba waved her away and returned to her pipe.

    Syra returned to her half of the bed and stashed her worries away in favor of blurry memories of warm moss and lullabies, if only for the night.

    ***

    Petra was the first one out the door the next morning. Baba had added a healing balm to her dressing that soothed any irritation and thus, her temper.

    "Are we leaving today, or what?" she asked from the front steps, awaiting Baba to finished her final checking of their bags. With the feathers about her neck, she truly did look like a mother hen.

    "When you go hungry because you forgot your rations, you will be wishing you had waited," Baba said, giving the bag her tap of approval before handing it over to Cassius. "All set."

    The party filed out the door, but Baba still wasn''t quite done.

    "Not you, Aidan. Get back over here." She waggled a finger at him to follow her to a set of drawers.

    From the drawer she pulled a necklace of leather strap and stone pendant.

    "First, take this," she said, looping the necklace over his head. "The Black Thorn does have a few mages in their company, so it''s best if you have some form of protection��can''t have the one decent councilman dying on me. Just make sure to suck on it a while when you can, especially in the next few days."

    "Suck on it? As in, in my mou��"

    "Would you rather the other end? ''Cause that works, too."

    "No no, that''s fine. Just a bit...odd."

    "Oh, don''t worry." She chuckled at the boy''s pained face. "It''ll take some time to charge after imprinting, but it will only grow stronger the longer you wear it."

    "Stronger, huh?" Aidan examined the stone with curious fingers. With its rich, mossy sheen, it was a larger version of the stone on Syra''s ring. "Wait. Is this viridite?" He gave it a light tap.

    "Yes, meaning��" she held his hands still��"you must be careful with it. This one''s a morakii��a pure ''star heart'' from Morai D��rnath. They''re powerful little buggers, but quite unstable if damaged. If it cracks, you will not be feeling very well for quite some time."

    Aidan rested the pendant against his chest with gentle hands, "Good to know."

    "Good. Now secondly," at this Baba grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close, her face darkening as she glanced back at Syra through the doorway, "make up your blasted mind and do it quickly."

    "Excuse me?" Aidan faltered from her harsh tone, but her gaze was cold, firm, and held him in his place.

    "I told you, I am many things but I am not blind. Either commit or cut her loose. It''s going to be hard either way, but don''t you dare drag this out for her. It only makes the cutting worse."

    Aidan searched her eyes for any story swirling within them, but only found stony resolve.

    "With respect, Lady Baba, that''s our business, not y��"

    Baba''s fingers clawed tighter at his arm and blue flashed across the glare aimed up at him.

    "Her mother was my friend��and I dare say I don''t have many. So, I will not have you scarring her daughter anymore than she already is. Is that understood, my prince?"

    Aidan fought the urge to glare over at Leon, and dripped his head, "Y-yes, ma''am. Understood."

    "Good!" she said, giving him a harder-than-necessary pat. "And don''t worry about Leif. I''ll make sure he gets back home safely."

    Baba looked to the door to see Petra watching them with a bouncing foot, "Yes, you may go now."

    "Thank you!"

    "Oh, and Leon!" she called after the fae. "Avoid Everglenn if you can. It''s springtime, so the Greenway will be extra crowded and the tourists even more hormonal than usual. Best you go around."

    "Got it!" He gave her a little twirl and lead the party away towards the more wooded part of town.

 |Chapter 12| The Queens Riddle

    <hr>

    The fields of Kor Lahru may have been forbidden, but that only added to its appeal. It certainly didn''t stop people from building a sprawling resort town around its southern border, and now the streets and lodges bustled with hormonal honeymooners all in hopes of conjuring themselves a Gifted child with help of its mana spring.

    "We''ll stick to the western path", said Leon leading them away from the noisy Greenway. "It''s not as easy of a hike and the flow is weaker, but that means less people to worry about."

    "You call this a path?" Petra grumbled, yanking her leg from the greedy bramble. "It''s nothing but briar."

    "I just said it wasn''t easy."

    "At least it comes with dessert," Syra said, tossing her some berries off the vine.

    "It shouldn''t take too much longer, so bare with me. The border''s just up ahead."

    Leon brought them down into a gully where a bloated mountain stream cut open the greenery, but stopped them at the water''s edge.

    "Wait here," he said, his voice surprisingly firm, "and do not cross until I say so."

    He flitted over to the opposite bank and hovered just outside treeline, as if taking time to gather himself.

    "You think he''ll be alright?" Syra hushed to Aidan, passing a glance over the twins. "He''s been away for a while, and you know what years can do."

    "He''s also a squire, apparently. So, let''s hope that honor of his goes both wa��"

    A loud snap jolted the air as Leon''s landing brought roots up and around him, ensnaring the fae in a wooden chrysalis.

    "Leon!" Syra bolted forward.

    "Wait!" Aidan snapped her back before her feet hit the water. "He said to wait, remember?"

    "But��"

    "Just watch."

    For a moment the air stayed still and quiet. No screams or cries for help came from wooden lump, and Syra began to fear Leon dead already. But then there came a faint rustling beyond the treeline.

    "Look," Aidan said, pointing, "they''re here."

    The brush sparkled as a patrol of fae descended upon the lump, and Syra held her breath. Even with her sharp vision they were specks against the green curtain, and she charged her eyes for a closer look.

    "Who is it this time?" A guard gave the lump a hard tap, releasing the intruder and revealing a knelt Leon. "Well, tickle my twigs, the gorya is finally back."

    Leon winced but kept his head bowed and silent as the patrol searched him over.

    "Looks like he also brought company." A second guard stiffened and pointed his sword at the party across the stream. "Human company."

    At this the first guard latched onto Leon''s collar and heaved him to his feet, "You little snake! Did you really think you could sneak these humans past us?"

    "We''re not sneaking. We''re ex��"

    "I shouldn''t be surprised with that soft spot of yours. Just wait until Vesna hears about th��"

    "Queen Vesna already knows." A larger fae with draping tendrils for hair landed next to Leon and pinched the guard''s hand away.

    "Ledon Tyl, sir!" The guards snapped to a bow at their captain''s arrival, leaving Leon to gawk in a half-daze.

    "So, the errant squire has returned?" Tyl shooed his guards aside to size us his wandering apprentice.

    "Y-yes, sir," Leon bowed. "Thank you for the welcome, sir."

    The corners of Tyl''s mouth twitched, "I''m pleased to see you''ve at least grown some." Despite his stature and broad shoulders, the first layer of elderbark already graced his hairline, no doubt bringing affection for the eager youngling along with it.

    "I''ve been told Queen Vesna is expecting you," he turned a discerning eye to the human party, "and them."

    "But sir," the guard spoke up without raising his head, "humans are forbidden here, are they not?"

    "Normally, yes. But these orders come from Queen Vesna herself. Additionally," he gave his patrol a stern look, "you should look closer before approaching a potential threat. If you had, you would have noticed that they''re actually not human at all. Not completely, anyway."

    He gave Leon a light pat on the shoulder, allowing him to rise, and waved over at the awaiting party, "Come! I will escort you to Queen Vesna."

    By the time they waded into the fields, shadows crept from their holes under the trees and into the breadth of field and sky that welcomed them.

    "Welcome to Kor Lahru," said Leon, hovering a head above the sprawling blades of green and gold. Through the fronds and thickets and scrubs, he led them. Some parts laid short and mossy, while others swathed over Syra''s head like green curtains. All glimmered in the late afternoon light, and even the air brimmed with mana.

    "Why is this place so...warm?" Aidan asked, rubbing his arms, "The air, it...tingles." He waved his hand through the empty air as if it were water, "It''s like I''m swimming, but there''s nothing here."

    Syra laughed as he waved about like a child in a pond, "Oh, there''s plenty there, you just can''t see it. Kind of like the wind. It''s always been around you, but never strong enough to catch your attention."

    "Then why can I feel it now?"

    "Because Kor Lahru is a mana spring," Leon explained, "the second-largest on the continent I''ve been told. That''s why so many magical plants can grow here, and why the Greenway is as busy as it is. Now that I think about it, I don''t even remember ever having a winter here."

    "No winter, huh?" said Aidan, "I''m surprised people haven''t tried to build here."

    "Oh, they did," called Tyl with a smirk, "at least that''s what we''re told."

    "Is that why it''s forbidden?"

    "Aye. This is Fae ground. You''re better off stealing light from an evening bug." Tyl buzzed off to the top of the next hill and waved them over.

    Some ways off, in the center of the rolling plain, a large tree towered: a living monolith with branches as wide as streets, and vines that stretched and wavered just above the ground like a verdant fountain among bushy hardwoods.

    "That tree there is older than any of your human cities," Leon said. "Before you, or the dwarves, or even the Tal laid claim, it stood here guarding these fields, and my people. To separate the fae from this land would be to separate a babe from the womb. We are a part of it, and it with us."

    Leon looked back to see somber faces staring back��poor Petra seemed lost completely.

    "Come," he said, catching a breeze down into the valley, "it''s better if we show you."

    Across a trickle of a stream, specks hovered among the vegetation. Perched like dew drops atop the bramble and bushes, fae sat with outstretched wings facing the evening sun, the light glinting off them in a myriad of colors.

    "We all come from Mother Tree," Leon explained, motioning to the glints swarming from their seats. "As a flower buds and blooms from its stalk, so do we from those vines. I''ll have to show you one day," he added, "it really is a spectacular event, to see a fae born, I mean."

    As they neared Mother Tree, fae zipped and hovered around them with round curious eyes. Watching them swarm, Syra noticed they avoided both Aidan and Leon.

    "Look, the gorya''s back," some whispered.

    "And he''s brought a human! Vesna isn''t going to be happy."

    Leon ignored them and kept his gaze fixed on Mother Tree, whose canopy blocked out the sky as they approached.

    Tyl gave the trunk a quick rapping, "Queen Vesna, Leon and his guests have arrived."

    "Thank you, Tyl," came a voice from inside the trunk, "you can leave them with me."

    With Tyl''s departure, they were greeted by the sound of creaking wood as the bark shifted and bent to form an opening in the trunk. A fae with long, tendrilled hair and large black eyes greeted them from what looked to be a throne room.

    Leon flittered to her side and knelt with head bent low, "My queen, I have arrived with the guests."

    Queen Vesna lowered her gaze to the crouched squire beneath her but kept her head high, facing her guests, "You''ve been gone quite a while, Leon. Am I to assume you were in their company this whole time?"

    "No, ma''am. My surveying took me farther south than intended. The blooms came later than usual, you see. And then these horrible men captured me and stuffed me in a box and��."

    "Leon."

    "Sorry." He winced and slowed his breathing. "My apologies for my late arrival, my Queen." He turned a slight grin up to her, "But I did bring gifts."

    Vesna raised a brow as curiosity softened her gaze, "Did you now?" She caught her head dropping and snapped it forward, "Let''s see them."

    With quick hands, Leon rushed to fling open his pack. From it, he drew a bell-shaped flower that sparkled in the sunlight and smelled of sugar and honeysuckle.

    The corner of Vesna''s mouth strained against her grin, "Candied sundrops? I take it Baba''s doing well, then?"

    "Yes, very well." Leon placed the candy at her feet and motioned to the party, "She is the one who sent them."

    Queen Vesna analyzed the party, black eyes boring into Aidan, "And this is the human boy? The Altairan prince?"

    "Yes, my queen. Prince Aidan. The others are Syra, Petra, and Ca��"

    "I know who they are," Vesna said, raising a hand and rubbing a thumb across the silver ring around her finger.

    "Then you will help them? One night stay should��"

    "Perhaps."

    "Beg pardon?" Leon''s wide eyes strained to look up at her.

    "I agreed to provide the shard, not shelter. That requires another deal."

    The party looked at each other, confused.

    "A riddle," she explained. "Solve my riddle and you may stay."

    "A riddle?" Cassius asked, looking to Syra, expecting her to eagerly accept.

    "Yes," Vesna said with a spritely air, "as is tradition when accepting visitors. We might be small, but we''re quite territorial." The narrow wings that cloaked her back quivered a subtle warning to Aidan. "As I''m sure you''re aware by now."

    "What''s the riddle?" Syra asked finally.

    Vesna''s pupils widened as she stared between Syra and Aidan with examining precision.

    "From the maws of fire and fury,

    Came a sojourner hardened and weary.

    Though millennia old,

    Oh, the stories it told,

    From its perch on thy left finger, three."

    Syra and Vesna locked stares in silence.

    "You may ask your human friend if you''d like," Vesna said with a teasing grin.

    "Is this really necessary?" Leon asked, raising his head.

    "Are you questioning my judgment, Leon?" Vesna''s eyes narrowed. With a mere twitch of a finger, vines flew around Leon''s arms and neck, pulling him tight to the wooden floor of the hollow.

    "N-no, ma''am!" Leon wheezed, averting his eyes from the Fae monarch.

    "Good," The queen said, watching him struggle against the vines.

    "Stop!" Syra pleaded, "Let him go."

    Vesna loosened the constraints, but turned a glare to Syra, "The life of this gorya is mine to do with as I like."

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Syra snarled up at her, "But that''s so cruel!"

    Cassius tugged Syra''s arm for her to stop, but she ignored him, enraged at the haughty bug.

    "He''s done nothing to you!"

    Vesna sneered and shoved her small face into Syra''s. Her tendrilled hair pulled apart like an unfurling lily and curled forward to face Syra like six snakes biting their tongues. "Do not attempt to speak of things you know nothing about, wyrmling." Her eyes bore into Syra''s and barbs slid from their petal sheaths. Playfully, but softly, she tapped them on Syra''s hair. "You think all of your books and spells make you intelligent...special...even powerful." Vesna sneered, "Yet you hide behind your walls and sense of entitlement, completely oblivious to the people and world around you. I bet you didn''t even know about the Black Thorn or its people before now."

    "That may be so," Syra spat back, "but what I do know is that Marrak will not stop with us, or the humans. He will come and raze your fields all for a show of power."

    "And if that day comes, we will turn to the ground, to the mana flows beneath this land where fire cannot reach. The Fae were here before you dragons or humans, and we will still be here after you have destroyed yourselves."

    Syra smirked, "Brave words for someone who lives off of a tree."

    Vesna''s barbs pricked Syra''s scalp and face, and Syra felt her mana draining away.

    "You forget yourself, wyrmling," Vesna said without one twitch of a brow. "Now answer the riddle if you don''t want me to suck you and your siblings dry. Not that you have much mana left."

    Syra scowled and clenched her jaw, hesitant to give her the satisfaction of an answer.

    "A diamond," Aidan called from the rear of the group. "The answer is, a diamond."

    He looked to Vesna with crossed arms, anxious to be done with this frivolous trial and the drama it brought.

    A soft chuckle escaped the queen''s throat and she stepped away from Syra, the petals of flesh folding back behind her head, "Correct."

    The vines released Leon and disappeared back into the grains of Mother Tree''s trunk.

    "Are you alright?" Syra asked, leaning over to check on the poor pixie. Teal bruising circled his throat and arms and made his minty complexion appear sickly.

    "I''m fine," he coughed and wheezed back his breath, but remained kneeled, "thank you."

    "They may stay the night," Vesna said, turning from them and walking over to her tiny seeing glass. "But for now, show them to the pool. They''re weak and will need their strength to reach Mirna. I''ll contact Baba and inform her of your arrival."

    "Yes, my queen," Leon said, standing.

    "Oh, and Leon," Vesna called from the mirror, "thank you for bringing them here safely. You did well."

    Leon beamed and bowed, his previous grievance seemingly forgotten, "Thank you, your majesty!"

    Leon led the quiet party away from Mother Tree and into the glen of the eastern fields. Beyond which, stood a grove of old but sprawling hardwoods. If she squinted, Syra could make out the tiny dots of fae flitting around its perimeter.

    "What was that all about?" Syra asked Leon once away from the canopy of ears. "It was like she didn''t even want us to be here. I thought the Kesh Raza were all supportive of this journey."

    "I know close to diddly about the Kesh Raza," Leon said, setting his course for the grove ahead, "but I do know Vesna to be a fierce but just leader."

    "Just?" Syra exclaimed, "She nearly strangled you over nothing, and you call that just?"

    "It wasn''t over nothing. I spoke out of turn and disrespectfully."

    "But to claim that your life is subject to her whims is just...deplorable! What kind of ruler has the right to that?"

    "One that spares your life," Leon said with remorse.

    The group fell silent and Leon sighed, not particularly pleased to share his dirty laundry.

    "Traitor," he said finally, "that''s what gorya means."

    "A few seasons ago, the colony was having trouble with this incessantly curious and stubborn root badger. It would trample our herb and thistle plots and dig up any bulbs it could sniff out. I thought if I could scare the beast away, Vesna would take my request to become a squire seriously." He gave an awkward chuckle, "I only managed to piss it off and lead it back to Mother Tree, where it found a ravenous taste for its roots. Not only did it damage Mother Tree and the growing buds, but injured several of our soldiers when we chased it off."

    "You made a mistake, that''s all," Syra said. "It doesn''t make you a traitor."

    "Perhaps. But that mistake led to injuring the colony, which is seen as the same thing. I was lucky Vesna saw it for what it was, and pardoned me. She even took the backlash when she made me a squire. She probably still does."

    "Fair points," Cassius said.

    Guilt smacked Syra upside the head, and she chided herself for jumping to judgment too quickly. Perhaps she should apologize when they returned.

    "Anyway," Leon said, changing the subject, "the pool is just inside the grove. You should feel a hundred percent better after a good soak."

    Nestled under the thick canopy and overhanging branches, a large pool of clear water greeted the party. About its edges, fae restored themselves in its healing waters. Most flitted off with angry or confused faces as they approached, but Leon paid no heed.

    "Oh!" Syra laughed and pointed to the pool''s bottom, "So that''s how it works."

    Littering the bottom and sides of the pool like a geode, amec and syllic crystals shimmered through the still water. "I had no idea Kor Lahru was on a boundary. That explains a lot."

    "No, it doesn''t," Petra said flatly. "And I don''t care to know." She cut Syra off mid-breath before she could proceed to lecture them on magical geography.

    Syra conceded with a long exhale, "Just get in."

    The twins shed their clothing with no heed to human modesty and climbed in, surprised by how quickly the water took effect.

    "Oh, good Lord, yes," Petra said with a moan, sinking down to her chin. Her short red locks looked like kelp floating about her head.

    "This might be even better than our cavern pools," said Cassius.

    Syra burst out laughing at her siblings bobbing heads and quickly followed suit.

    "Hey, two-legs!" Petra called to Aidan from her watery throne, "Get your scrawny ass in here! I''ll be damned if we get slowed down by you."

    "Wow, this stuff really does work miracles if you''re inviting him," Cassius teased.

    "I''ll just stick my feet in, thank you," said Aidan, keeping his gaze averted from their bareness splayed out in front of him.

    Syra relished in the lighter mood brought on by the sweet air, greenery, and cool water that sent her skin tingling and warmed her sore muscles.

    We better enjoy this while we can, she thought, Mount Tenlok isn''t going to an easy hike. I doubt the snow has even melted yet.

    Through the gaps between branches, she could see the slopes of the tallest mountain of the Elder Mountain range.

    Somewhere on that peak is the next shard, and we have to get it before Marrak does.

    ***

    Night came quickly and brought with it salad greens, roasted nuts, and nectar for the colony and its guests. Despite the stigma surrounding him, the wee fae listened in wonder to Leon''s stories of adventure beyond the fields, while others took to braiding Cassius'' long blonde tresses. Even Petra grew a soft spot for their large eyes and fat faces.

    "Petra," said Vesna, fluttering over to their campsite by a soft bed of moss, "may I speak with you?"

    Petra swallowed her mouthful, but looked suspicious, "Um, sure?"

    "Alone?" Vesna added, eyeing the rest of the group.

    Petra went to stand, but Cassius held her by the shoulder.

    "Why?" he asked, leering up at the monarch.

    "I''d like to talk with her leader to leader. Is that a problem?" she asked, lowering her face to his and staring deep into his eyes for several moments.

    "No," Cassius said, blinking and releasing Petra, who still hesitated. "Go, it''s fine," he nodded, and she left with Vesna for a walkabout.

    "What was that about?" Aidan asked when Cassius had settled himself.

    "Nothing, just...seeing if I could trust her."

    "I could''ve told you that," said Leon.

    "Yes, but you''re biased."

    Leon shook his head, "And you insist on her planning to stab you in the back."

    "She does seem a bit...unstable," said Aidan. "You know, with strangling you one moment, then thanking you the next?"

    Leon held his tongue, but then pointed to a group of spindly shadows off in the distance, "You see those trees over there?"

    "Barely."

    "She grew up there, before she knew she was to become Queen. A human snuck in one day, enraged for some reason or another, and brought with him a beetle��one from a distant land that we fae had never seen. They spread slowly at first, most being picked off by birds and whatnot, but then they found the sweet wood of those Faebul trees, and they began to bore. In days the entire stand was infested. Sucked dry, they were. Vesna knew they would only spread further. So, she went to her Queen to petition a counter offense."

    "Which was what, exactly?" asked Srya, more interested in the bugs than the story.

    "To burn it." Leon''s eyes drooped, "She sacrificed her own home to ensure that others'' were not. And she wasn''t even Queen yet."

    "That would explain her disdain for humans," said Cassius.

    Leon nodded and looked a might disappointed, "I know you can''t trust everyone, but, I just ask that you at least trust me."

    Tension lifted with an agreement met, and Aidan tapped Leon''s fist with his fingertip, "Aye, little one, we''ll trust you."

    Leon beamed, "Thank you, Bati."

    "But seriously, why do you keep calling me that?"

    "Why not? You are a b��"

    "Did you eat all the berries while I was gone?" Petra called as she trotted back to the fire.

    "What was that about?" Syra asked and passed the berry bowl.

    "Just what she said: leadership things." She popped fruit into her mouth with an odd grin. "You know, ''stay alert'', ''family first'', ''don''t fucking lose this.''"

    Petra opened her hand to reveal a purple-and-green crystal no bigger than her palm.

    "Is that the shard?" Syra exclaimed, startling away some of the fae.

    "Shh! Of course, it is. No glass is this warm."

    "Let me see," Syra reached over but Petra yanked it away.

    "Nope. This one''s mine. She gave it to me."

    "But why? Aidan answered the riddle."

    "Aidan''s also human��something we both dislike. She probably just trusts me more than a sympathizer. And I don''t blame her."

    Syra squirmed against the urge to tackle her sister, "Come on. After all of this, you could at least let me see it."

    "You did. Just now. In my hand. And now," she shoved her hand into a vest pocket, "it stays here. Until we find a better place for it."

    ***

    Daybreak brought the wailing of the tiny wee fae, and even tinier tears. Petra would have preferred her backpack to be filled with meats rather than nuts and berries, but she didn''t dare upset them more.

    Leon held back his own tears as he bid the party farewell.

    "But I thought you were coming with us," said Syra, holding him in her hands.

    He shook his head and gave her a small grin, "My job was to bring you here. And, as much as I would love the adventure, I''ve been away for far too long already." He glanced back at Vesna, who stood rather proud atop a draping fern watching over them, then turned back to Syra and gave her thumb a tight squeeze, "My place is here. Now, it''s your turn to find yours."

    Syra nodded and watched him flutter back to Vesna''s side.

    "You know, I think I''m going to miss that little jabbermouth," Aidan said as they left the fae to their fields and turned their sights to the mountain.

    "Me, too," said Syra.

    Spring had blessed them with clear trails, but it was a tad chilly with the colder mountain air sweeping down the slopes. Cassius and Petra walked assured in their human forms, but their legs still ached from the steepening slope. By sundown, Syra caught a glimpse of sunlight shining off the roofs of the Talian city and the troop huffed with excitement to be done with the constant uphill climb.

    It was the frigid, northeasterly wind that drew Syra''s attention from the city to the wall of thick, gray clouds that followed them.

    "I''m not liking the look of those," Syra said, stopping.

    "They''ll pass," said Aidan, giving the front a quick glance before continuing up the road.

    "No, she''s right," Petra said, halting with Cassius. "That''s a strong front coming in. And with our elevation, it''ll be on top of us in no time."

    "We should find some shelter before it hits," Cassius said, taking it upon himself to run ahead, searching for any overhangs or hollows in the rock.

    "We should just keep going," said Aidan. "The city isn''t far and I don''t see any cause for alarm. They''re just clouds."

    "You also don''t fly or live on a mountain," Petra said, following after her brother. "It''s also getting dark, and I''m not about to get caught in a storm, at night. So let''s go." She grabbed him by the cloak and shoved him forward.

    They weren''t a quarter mile further when the flurries started. A swirling gray swept overhead and down the mountain''s face, and the party pulled their cloaks tight against the wind.

    "Told you!" Petra yelled through the bundle of cloth pressed against her face.

    White layered itself atop their hoods and boots. Petra''s lips quivered and Cassius rubbed his arms for heat, their thin skin prickling with goosebumps.

    "Find anything yet?" Syra called out to Cassius.

    "No!" he replied, barely visible through the white curtain. "There''s nothing! Just straight rock or dirt."

    "What about bushes? Some kind of ground cover?" asked Aidan. "Even a thicket would be better than being exposed like this."

    Some ways up, a gathering of hedges grew just off the path. But the cover was thin with new growth and their toes peeked out from the edges. They huddled there, shivering, while the whiteness grew around them. Through the shelter of bracken, the forest canopy was dark lines across a slate sheet, and the airy howls told of no quick relief.

    And here we thought we''d be safer away from the cities and the Black Thorn, Syra thought, burying her face between her knees and tugging at her hood for just one more inch of cover. Feeling had already left her fingers and toes. What kind of dragon freezes to death?

    Through the wind and the creaking of trees, the shuffle and snap of twigs neared and circled them.

    "What was that?" Petra asked, peeking her nose out from her hood.

    "I don''t know," Cassius said, sniffing, "I can''t smell anything."

    Aidan readied his blade and Syra crouched under the branches, both straining their eyes to catch the shape of the approaching sound.

    "There!" Syra whispered, pointing to the four-legged blur sniffing and trotting about the nearby trees.

    "Timberwolves?" asked Aidan.

    "No," said Syra, "we''re too high up."

    "Do we attack it?" Cassius asked.

    "I say we hit it before it sees us," said Petra, going for her scabbard.

    "No, wait, don''t," Aidan said, holding her back. "Don''t call any attention. If you all can''t smell anything, maybe it can''t either."

    Petra relaxed, but Aidan was wrong.

    It followed their trail and circled the thicket, ears perked and snout puffing up clouds of mist and snow.

    "Now?" Petra hushed, and Aidan slammed a hand over her mouth.

    But the creature''s ears twitched and its head shot up to stare straight at them.

    "Now?" Petra muffled under his palm.

    "Now."

    All four sprang from the brush and faced the beast with shining metal. Closer up, the blur showed itself to be of a lithe canid frame, but full in body from a coat of thick, white fur. To Aidan''s surprise and disappointment, it did not move.

    "Away!" he yelled, swinging his sword in warning.

    But again, it did not move. It merely watched with steady, round eyes, unblinking despite the snow.

    "I said, go away!" Aidan lunged forward with a second swing, and the creature bolted with both Aidan and Syra powering after it through the drifts.

    "Wait, come ba��" Cassius called, but Syra was already down the hill.

    "She never changes, does she?" Petra huffed, following after them.

    They slid and stumbled through the understory, tripping over rocks and limbs hidden by snow and shadow, until they reached a slab of rock jutting from the hillside.

    The siblings halted behind Aidan, who stood with sword raised, in a stand-off with the creature outside of a small cave that cut into the rock face.

    Its ears perked up and its tail waved from side to side, panting softly from its small, pointed snout. Aidan went to scare it off again, but Syra grabbed his arm.

    "Wait," she said, "I...I don''t think it wants to hurt us."

    "What?"

    "Just look at it."

    As if on cue, the creature trotted to the cave mouth, circled a few times, sat, and gave a quick whine.

    "The cave," Syra exclaimed, releasing Aidan''s arm. "It led us to the cave."

    As she crunched over to the opening, the creature shot from its post and bounded away up the hill, only stopping to give them one last glance before disappearing over a ledge.

    "Well, that makes no sense," Aidan said, putting his sword away.

    "Nonsense or not, I''m getting my tail out of this weather," Petra said, following Syra into the hollow.

    "I second that," said Cassius, joining them.

    The cave was large enough for them to fit single-file, but everyone save Syra had to bend their knees to sit.

    "Might as well sleep here for the night," said Aidan as he settled himself down on the cave floor, draping his cloak over himself.

    The others did the same and the nook became quiet. It was deep enough that the snow did not blow on them, but the wind still reached inward to nip their ears and fingertips.

    "I cannot sleep like this," mumbled Petra with her cheek pressed to the stone floor, "It''s too cold."

    Despite their deep, rocky lairs, the hot springs under the Ridgeback Mountains kept the cavern''s heat well, so neither of the twins had dealt much with lingering cold.

    Syra looked about the cave for something to block the wind, but found nothing but stone slick from humidity and groundwater. And then she stood, startling everyone.

    "What are you doing?" Aidan asked as she stepped over them and stood by the opening.

    "Closing the door."

    She breathed and focused on her body heat, feeling the pulse of warmth travel from her chest and down her arms to her hands. Her pupils widened as she concentrated on the icy scene in front of her. The warmth in her hands turned to a numbing cold and the glow around them lightened to a frosted lavender. Forcing the mana outwards, she slammed her hands against the wet stone walls. A wave of ice shot from her hands in an expanding arch of feathery crystals that covered the entrance walls, ceiling, and floor in a layer of ice. Aidan watched wide-eyed as the crystals grew and merged into an ice sheet that covered all but the tippy top of the opening.

    Syra''s hands fell to her sides and she took deep, controlled breaths before returning to her spot in the back of the cave.

    "That...was impressive," Aidan said.

    Syra gave him a quick salute and sat herself down in her small nook.

    "You missed a spot," said Petra, seeing the hole near the ceiling.

    "Do you want to suffocate?" Syra asked, lying down.

    With the chill blocked, Syra became aware of how quickly her cloak warmed her. She pulled her knees tighter to her chest and wrapped the ends around her legs and feet, swaddling herself. Next to her, Petra and Cassius looked on with judging eyes.

    "You look like a fuzzlebug," said Petra.

    "What? It works." She pulled her hood over her face and curled into a ball, focusing her energy on heat generation.

    The twins snickered to themselves, but when Syra''s warmth reached their toes, they all followed suit as the warmth filled the narrow hollow and was soon echoing the soft breaths and snores of its guests.

 |Chapter 13| Omei the Afflicted

    <hr>

    Pale sunlight beamed through the ice sheet, waking the company.

    "How late is it?" asked Petra, rising.

    "Not awful late, I assume," said Cassius, peering through the ice, "the sun''s barely up."

    Aidan stood and stretched, nearly hitting his head on the low ceiling, "Let''s get going, then. We don''t need to get caught in another one of those squalls."

    He looked over to Syra, who was the last to rouse. "After you," he said, motioning to the ice sheet.

    She rose on stiff muscles and squeezed through them to the entrance, pressing her hands against to the ice. Again she channeled mana, but this time it was hot and searing. The ice steamed and thinned, leaking trickles of water down its face. She managed to melt a hole the size of her head before she stopped for breath.

    "What''s wrong?" asked Cassius, "Are you still drained, even after the fae pool?"

    She shook her head and laughed at herself, "No. I''m just...not that good at flameweaving."

    "Why am I not surprised?" asked Petra.

    "I don''t see you helping," Syra said.

    "Then move," Petra said, pushing Syra away from the ice.

    Petra analyzed the wall for a moment. It was thin, but still sturdy, except around the hole Syra had made.

    "You get that side," she said, looking to Cassius and taking her scabbard from her belt.

    Cassius did the same and they aimed the hilts at the thinner portion.

    "Now!" Petra commanded and they struck the ice, shattering its center enough for them to kick away a hole large enough to crawl through.

    "You''re welcome," Petra said to Syra as she exited the cave.

    From outside the cave, the landscape now resembled the head of a balding man with bad dandruff. The green of new leaves now hid by a thin white covering. The sun was above horizon and the clouds had moved on to the foothills, but the chill still lingered.

    "I think the road was this way," said Aidan, taking the lead.

    Around one bend and up another, the walls of the Talian city peeked from over the next turn.

    "Almost there," said Aidan, calling the others to pick up the pace. As he followed the road around a curve, he heard a pat pat of paws accompanied by panting, and was soon chest to snout with a rather large, white canine. One look at its eyes and Aidan was quick to jump back and draw his sword.

    "Get back!" he yelled to the others, halting them, "It found us again!"

    "Well, of course it did!" A man''s voice came from around the corner followed by a high whistle. The canine instantly sat, its ears perked and tail swishing. There was the scuffle of footsteps and soon two Talian men appeared from where the creature had come. "She''s a vangora, after all."

    "Vangora? As in a cloud fox?" Syra asked, staring at the animal before her that was just as much lean muscle as it was fluff. She had seen paintings of them in her biogeography text, but it was the wooden chestplate attached to its harness that caught her eye. Dark wood��black hemlock, most likely��and covered in intricate etchings of Erdrumic runes.

    It''s just like Baba''s cart. But this one''s fully realized.

    "She''s...she''s a grimlock."

    At this both she and Aidan froze, eyes locked on the large fox whose outline wavered just slightly.

    "Aye, she is." The man met their staring with stern eyes, patting the earthly specter on its head. "She''s my partner. And has been for decades."

    "I didn''t think animancy was allowed in Mirna," said Aidan.

    "Only under certain circumstances. The weather up here can be quite temperamental, but the vangora are experts at hunting in the worst of it. Renei here is our best at guiding lost travelers, so we decided to...keep her on staff for a while. At least until I can join her."

    "Alright," said Aidan, sword held steady, "so if she''s your watch dog, who are you? You don''t seem like an animancer to me."

    "She''s not a dog. But we were sent to fetch you. I''m Kaleem, and this is Shaleu. We''re King Tahlu''s scouts and frankly, I thought you''d be more grateful."

    "We are!" said Cassius, tapping Aidan''s arm for him to sheath his sword, "Just a bit...cautious, is all."

    Kaleem nodded, "I can understand that." He turned and flashed the Mirnan crest that adorned his blue cape, "And that''s why we''re here, to escort you to King Tahlu. He is expecting you."

    ***

    The towering gates opened with a wave of the Kaleem''s hand and he led them into the wide, brick streets that spider-webbed up and down the mountainside.

    "Oh, my," Cassius said at the sight in front of them, causing Kaleem to laugh.

    "There''s an overlook right over there if you''d like a better peek," he said and pointed to a platform jutting from the side of the terrace.

    There was nothing modest about Mirna. Even the platform railing was of ornate design. Wide, arching terraces covered the mountainside in buildings, ponds, and gardens. There was even an aqueduct that curved back and forth between the buildings. The buildings themselves were spacious and of multiple stories, all trimmed with brick, tile, and ironwork in hues of cream and jewel tones. Up and down the slope, large arched windows glinted in the light, making the mountainside sparkle like ripples on water. One thing made Syra ponder, though.

    "There''s no snow," she said, looking up at Kaleem with questioning brows. "How is that possible?"

    He smiled and pointed up at the tip top of the watchtower, where two sentries manned a metal spire with a deep green crystal encased inside.

    "When foul weather comes��which it often does��those crystals," he pointed to the line of towers circling Mirna''s perimeter, "create a barrier above the city. Most of the time it just melts snow for our aqueduct, but it''s been known to hold up even against dragonfire."

    "Is that so?" Aidan turned a curious brow to the guard.

    "I know, I know, crazy right? You all are too young to remember, but the Tal also had their troubles with dragons in the past��fighting over territory and whatnot. But after Dorrak we agreed to keep our borders, with the dragons expanding north instead of south. Neither one of us wanted to see that much death again." He chuckled, "They''ve turned out to be pretty quiet neighbors, actually. Just a bunch of hermits keeping to their own."

    "Right," Petra gave Aidan a side-eye, "who could''ve ever imagined that."

    "So, Kaleem, about those spires. You wouldn''t happen to have their blueprints, would you?" Aidan asked, a tad too eager in Petra''s opinion.

    "Why? Are your arrows not good enough?"

    Kaleem patted them both on the back with a heart laugh, "Well, I ceratinly can''t blame you for wanting to be prepared. And, as it turns out, you''ll be meeting one of the mages who helped build them. She''s a bit of a bookworm, so I''m sure she''ll give you an earful if you ask. Until then, Tahlu''s manor is this way."

    Down the streets and up ramps and stairs they went, earning curious looks from the locals in their flowy, glittering garbs.

    We must look so dingy to them, Syra thought, a tad envious of their elegant drapings and headdresses. Though, she laughed at Petra who fought to not stare at all of their shiny adornments.

    "And here we are!" said Kaleem when they stopped at gated fence. He flashed his seal and the two guards allowed them inside.

    To Syra''s surprise, the King''s manor was quaint compared to Rogan''s castle. Though it had its own terrace and garden, the building itself was of humble size with only three stories, and no more fineries than any other Talian manor.

    "Why is it so small?" Petra asked.

    "Don''t be rude," Cassius hushed her.

    A full laugh came from around the side of the manor, "Because I like it better that way."

    A handsome Tal of lithe build, high cheekbones and dark eyes approached them with a warm grin. His fair locks were tied at the shoulder, and his blue robe was of similar fashion to Syra''s cloak. Kaleem bowed and Syra assumed this was the Tahlu he kept speaking of.

    "The King''s quarters used to be down there," he said, pointing to a large, comely building littered with towers and windows, "but we decided to downsize a bit and moved it here. We had too few people for so many rooms, anyway."

    "What is it now?" Aidan asked. To leave a building of that size empty would be a horrid waste of space.

    "A library," he said with pride, "Or an academy, as you humans call it."

    "It''s even bigger than ours," said Syra, starstruck.

    Tahlu laughed and nodded, "Yes, I can''t deny we take pride in our scholars. Our watchtowers were built by them, after all. Saved us from drought, blizzards��"

    "Dragonfire," Kaleem added.

    "That, too, once upon a time. This city owed��and continues to owe��them a debt." He caught himself in thought, "But I beg your pardon, you''ve just arrived from Kor Lahru, haven''t you? I am King Tahlu, as I''m sure Kaleem here has already mentioned. Come on in," Tahlu headed for the front door, "we have a breakfast ready for you."

    The siblings nearly bounded up the steps, but Aidan stood firm.

    "Where''s the shard?" Aidan asked, unmoving and causing Tahlu to stop mid-step.

    "You can''t just ask him that!" Syra hushed to Aidan.

    "Of course I can. He has a ring, he should know where it is." Aidan pointed to the silver band on Tahlu''s finger.

    "But��"

    "It''s alright," said Tahlu, "that is why you''re here in the first place."

    "With all due respect, sir," said Aidan, "we don''t need breakfast."

    "Speak for yourself, worm." Petra barked from the stairs, but went ignored.

    "What we need is that shard. There are three more left and we don''t even know if Marrak has found them already."

    "He hasn''t," said Tahlu. "I would have heard about it, otherwise."

    "Well, that''s good to know," said Petra, "I''d hate to be wasting my time."

    "The shard is safe, currently," Tahlu said, turning to Aidan and the others, "And I will take you there today, if you wish. But at least sit for a meal. As Mirna''s representative, I cannot have you thinking us inhospitable."

    "We have no reason to," Syra said, joining Tahlu on the landing. "Plus, my siblings and I never turn down food."

    Tahlu chuckled with a light sigh, "I am glad to hear you say that. Otherwise, I''d have wasted my preparations."

    The party followed Tahlu into the manor��which was still quite lavish despite its exterior��and was quickly met by a Tal of dark brow and stern face. His neatly cut hair barely brushed his ears and his uniform spared no wrinkle.

    "Maybe I take your bags?" he asked, in a tone that was polite, but forced.

    "Yes, thank you," Syra said, handing him her pack to be hung in the foyer.

    "No thanks," said Petra.

    "Same," said Aidan, both stepping into the dining area.

    "Don''t mind them," Cassius said. "They''re just being cautious."

    "Noted," said the Tal, hanging up Cassius'' belongings next to Syra''s.

    "This here, is Wyn," said Tahlu, patting the Tal on the shoulder, "He''s my Second, and though he seems cold, he''s really quite the caretaker."

    "Pleasure," said Cassius before joining Petra and Aidan at the long table.

    "And you must be Syra," he said, as she handed over her cloak to be hung, as well.

    "Yes, but how did you know? Oh, lord, do I smell?" She took a few sniffs about herself in a fret.

    "No, no!" Talhu said, laughing. "Your cloak," he said, taking the cloth in one gentle hand, "it was my father''s."

    "Oh. I-I''m sorry, I didn''t know. Valen gave it me and��"

    "It''s quite alright. I''m the one who gave it to him."

    Tahlu motioned for her to join him with the others at the table as their meal was being laid out.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    "When the Kesh Raza was discussing the possibility of recruiting you and your siblings, Valen said you would need something to identify yourself when you came. Something I and the other Tal would recognize, but others would not. My father was very fond of that cloak, up until his passing, so I knew right away what to use."

    "Well, thank you," Syra said, trying to not speak with her mouth full. "It certainly helped when we were stuck in that storm. It''s quite warm."

    "As it should be!" Tahlu said over his glass. "Did you know, the silk from the Montane Silk Worm is the only fiber to expand when cold?"

    "I did not!" Syra exclaimed, leaning over her plate, curious to hear more.

    "And here she goes again," Petra groaned and turned her focus to her goat-and-herb omlette with creamed potatoes.

    Talk of alpine worms, vangora, and other montane creatures dominated the conversation. And when the meal had taken longer than he wanted, Aidan cleared his throat to signal its ending.

    "We should get going now, if you don''t mind," he said, standing.

    "Yes, of course," said Tahlu. "If you could wait just outside, I''ll have my carriage brought around."

    Wyn returned their belongings as they left, but all the while his eyes remained on Syra and her earring.

    "Your bag, miss," he said, handing it over.

    "Thank you, Wyn," she said, slinging it over a shoulder.

    "Thank you for coming."

    There was a sincerity in his eyes that grabbed at her, and she dipped a quick curtsy.

    "Don''t mind Wyn," Tahlu said as he helped Syra into the carriage. "He has a thing for mages."

    Petra laughed and Aidan looked out the window.

    "Oh. Well, that''s very flattering," Syra said, a shade red.

    Tahlu secured the door and hopped up top with Wyn, "To Omei."

    ***

    The carriage stopped near the base of the mountain where large stone doors were carved into its side. Above them, Talian script arched, chiseled into the stone. Syra tried to decipher it, but was too unfamiliar with the language.

    "Separate, but never silenced. Absent, but never forgotten," Tahlu recited the words worn from the stone, but not from his mind.

    "What is it?" asked Syra.

    "This is Omei," he said, raising a hand for the door to be opened, "the underground city."

    Past the heavy doors, light spilled down into the cavern that tunneled hundreds of feet into the mountain. Down and down the staircase wound, around pools and stalagmites, glowing crystals illuminating its steps worn from decades of passing feet. The bottom was a mere speck at the back of the cavern, and all four party members were left speechless. A rush of wind that smelled of smoke and wet stone nearly tipped Syra over the stairs, and Tahlu steadied her with a laugh.

    "Careful," he said, "it''s a long way down."

    "I thought Mirna was the only Talian city," said Cassius, looking to Tahlu with big eyes.

    "It was, for a long time." Tahlu began his descent down into the hole and waved them to join him, "This was originally the entrance to our mines, but was, eventually, converted to a city."

    The siblings, being accustomed to caves, followed close behind Tahlu. But Aidan, a creature of open fields and sky, balked at the rocky mouth gaping before him. Wyn had to pat him hard on the back to force him forward.

    "Why? Too many people?" asked Aidan, catching up to them.

    "Too many sick people," Tahlu said.

    "I didn''t know Tal could get sick."

    "No race is immune to disease. We only manage to stave it off because of all the hard work our scholars do." Tahlu couldn''t help but boast. "But the illness we suffered, this Lavi Disease, was not from this land, nor was it in any way natural."

    Tahlu''s face darkened and he looked behind him to see all eyes waiting.

    "It was that shard you seek that brought about the plague. We should have known better than to let an alchemist mess with it��Caelus, was his name. But he promised great results and a chance to ''better the Talian race by stealing from the best''. Alchemical fusion, he called it. The process required tremendous energy, so what better use for a powerful crystal?" He laughed at himself, "But the energy from the crystal was too strong. The potion exploded and sent gas everywhere. Caelus was the first to be infected and the first casualty."

    "Most casualties died in the first few months. Some from fever, others from suffocation or heart failure. Those that survived infection ended up without ears or noses. A terrible sight it was, watching their flesh being eaten away day by day. Death would have been easier. The sickness spread to half of our city, and we were left with no other choice but to separate the infected."

    "So, you left them to die?" Petra asked, her voice echoing off the walls.

    "No! No, of course not," said Tahlu, calming himself. "The infection had no bias. It took farmers, merchants, and officials...even children. My own little brother was infected. No, we gave them the space and supplies, and they built the city for themselves. That''s why my brother leads Omei, while I lead Mirna. So that everything we have in the Upper Branch, they have in the Lower."

    "Except sunlight," said Aidan as they reached the bottom level.

    "Yes," Tahlu said, "an unfortunate effect of infection is that exposure to direct sunlight worsens their illness, many times burning them. Another reason we chose the mines for their relocation."

    Syra stalled just outside the doorway, "But, if all the people down here are infected, are we even safe being here?"

    "Oh yes," said Tahlu, giving the guard permission to open a second pair of doors. "Time seems to have lessen the spread of the illness. Though, it is still spread from mother to child, despite our decades of effort."

    When the doors to Omei opened, they were greeted by two Tal that made Syra''s breath catch in her throat.

    "This is my bother, Lanis, and Leimia," Tahlu said, introducing them. "They will be your escorts from here onward."

    Lanis had the same face as his brother, minus the nose. His satin-white hair fell in a freshly-trimmed angled bob that grazed his collarbone, but the downy feathers crowning his forehead insisted a ruffled look. His ears that would have normally been long and pointed were gnarled to half their length, as if gnawed off by some animal. But despite their haggard appearance, his hair remained tucked neatly behind them, revealing the stubby horn at his jaw.

    Leimia seemed to have gotten off easy, by comparison. The child''s ears were still whole, but folded over like a pup, and donned a lavender stud. A full head of tawny hair draped past the edges of her cape and matched the jaw feathers and three barred plumes that sprung from her hairline. But most noticeable, were the puffs of feathers extending inches off her shoulders.

    It took all of the party''s willpower to hide their shock, but both Tal knew their expression too well.

    "It''s alright," Lanis said, "I know it can be quite jarring the first time you see it." He offered a scale-covered hand in welcome, and Syra found it hard not to stare at the two slits where his nose should have been.

    "What happened?" Syra asked, shaking his and Leimia''s hands. "Tahlu told us about the infection, but...I didn''t expect this."

    Lanis had to laugh, "No one ever does."

    He gave his brother a tight hug before Tahlu turned to leave back up the stairway.

    "Wait!" Syra called to him, "You should have this back." She took off her cloak and held it out to Tahlu.

    Tahlu''s hand hovered above the cloak for just a moment before he pushed it back to Syra.

    "I''ve grieved long enough," he said with a smile, "and it would only be a reminder. Plus, it would be of more use to you." He patted her lightly on the head, "Now go. Don''t keep my brother waiting."

    Tahlu began his climb and Syra returned to the doorway to follow after Lanis.

    "Come," Lanis said as the doors closed behind them, "we will explain everything on the way."

    "On the way, where?" Petra asked, intimidated by the large, vining plants that grew along the cavern walls and lit the rooms with a cool, green glow.

    "To the shard, of course," said Leimia in a soft, pleasant voice, "Is that not why you''re here?"

    "It is," Aidan said, also a bit shaken by his new surroundings, "and we''re thankful for all your help."

    "As are we," Lanis said. "We will all benefit from those stones being destroyed. As well as that dragon. No offense meant," he said, looking to the siblings.

    "Couldn''t agree more," Petra said.

    Lanis led them through tunnels and open rooms filled with luminescent plants and glittering stones. There were pools and waterfalls and vines that grew like trees. Even the ceiling moved with the fluttering of shimmering insects.

    "What are those?" Petra asked, breaking their silence and pointing to the feathers on Leimia''s shoulder. "Those can''t be wings. Way too small."

    "Could you please stop with the rudeness?" Cassius hushed at her. "You''re setting a bad example."

    "Like you''re not curious?"

    "You''re right," Leimia said with a twinge of sadness, "they are too small." She wiggled her tiny chick-like wings in short, meager flaps, "But, at least they''re feathered."

    "At least?"

    Petra was cut off by bright white light as they turned a corner into Omei''s main chamber, and Syra shielded her eyes until they adjusted.

    Below the ledge, an array of buildings, streets, and gardens stretched out until the wall curved up into the geode-like the ceiling. Though the buildings weren''t as tall as their Mirnan counterparts, Omei was twice as wide. And above all of them, in the center of the ceiling surrounded by crystals, were roots. Massive, thick roots that hung and wound down the cavern walls, emitting white light like a tiny sun.

    Syra''s eyes bulged, "Is that��"

    "Mother Tree?" Lanis finished. "Yes. You can mine a lot in a hundred years, and ours led us right under Kor Lahru. Not only is the light not harmful, but the mana spring above us flows down here, too. It''s probably the reason why the afflicted aren''t getting any worse."

    Down the ledge and into the streets Lanis led them, all the while passing Lower Tal with fur, feather, scales, and mixtures of all three. Some had noses, others didn''t. Some had ears, others had holes surrounded by scarring.

    "Infection affects everyone differently," said Lanis, noticing the party''s wandering eyes. "The tilians grew scales or hide, and the mamans have an array of fur and horns. I even know a few with fae-like qualities who can go out in sunlight. Then there are some, like Leimia here, who are avens.

    "Avens?" asked Syra.

    "Feathers," said Leimia, pointing at her plumes.

    "Then what about you?" Cassius asked Lanis, eyes locked on the smooth, wheat-colored scales that travelled up his neck to his cheek.

    "Me?" Lanis faltered under Cassius'' direct stare but quickly righted himself with a grin. "Oh, I''m just a bit of a mutt. I caught the disease as a child, so it had time to play Guess What with me. But others..." His grin faded as he glanced down at little Leimia and her shoulder puffs.

    "Those born here in Omei��the lowborn��get it the worst. They''re deformed from day one and it only grows worse with age. You rarely see extra limbs like this on us highborn. Even if they''re fully fledged like Leimia''s, they''re useless and only make tailoring more tedious."

    "It''s not that bad," said Leimia, "I''m still pretty lucky. Many lowborn avens don''t even make the feathering stage, so they''re stuck with bare skin or have them cut off."

    Cassius shivered at the thought of having his own wings sawed off, "I couldn''t ever go through with that. No matter how ugly they might be."

    "It''s not just a matter of aesthetics," said Lanis. "Extras can be cumbersome and painful, and raw skin is easily infected. Plus, removal can leave even worse scarring."

    Cassius watched as Lanis'' hand picked absently at his chest, and decided to drop the subject.

    "I see. That is...quite the dilemma. But, at least it''s their choice, right?"

    Lanis chuckled and turned a warm smile to Cassius, "Absolutely. Omei pride''s itself on its individuals, so personal choice is of high priority��with some safety stipulations, of course."

    Cassius'' shoulders relaxed at the thought, "Sounds nice."

    "You''re one to talk," said Petra, "regulating what comes out of my mouth."

    "Like he said, safety precautions."

    A hearty laugh burst from Lanis'' lips and he had to smother his mouth to keep from spitting. "You really are siblings, aren''t you?"

    "Worse..." said Petra.

    "Twins," Cassius completed.

    "Ah, yes," he padded Cassius hard on the shoulder, "twin crowns are rarely comfortable. I should know."

    He descended the ledge stairs and waved them onward, "In that case, I''ll show you to somewhere more accommodating."

    Lanis led them over bridges and around a small lake to the lower portion of the city.

    "You will be staying in our academy dorms, near the alchemy labs," said Lanis. He pointed to a long, tall building built right into the cave wall and sat overlooking them from its perch a few terraces up. "We just had some rooms open up, so your timing is perfect. But, before that, I have someone you should meet."

    ***

    They arrived at a lavish tavern-like building where drumming music could be heard from the street. Drapes of satin and velvet cloaked the tall windows and a guard stood posted at the door. Above the doorway, the Talian words for "Playhouse" greeted them in fine metalwork.

    "This way, please," said Lanis, entering.

    Inside, smoke and the scent of stringent drinks filled the hall. Scantily clad men and women clung to their patrons, offering a spectrum of services, while others danced and swayed from ropes and platforms above the crowds. Most were in a stupor, but all turned their eyes and watched as the foreign party descended into the pit.

    Lanis brought them to a half-point maman enjoying the company of his feathered doll in heels.

    Oblivious to the party, he plucked a feather from his companion and dropped it into the mortar next to him. Blood beaded up on her skin, but he pressed a finger to it and, with a spark, it healed right up.

    "Is this what I pay you for, Ristau?" Lanis asked, his glare moving from the companion to mortar and pestle in his hands.

    "With all respect, Lanis, what I do with my money in my free time is my business."

    The Tal''s ragged ears poked out from the black hair that was slicked back into a loose side braid, and a pair of stud horns arched from his forehead. He continued to crush the feather into dust with his pestle.

    "It''s past sunhigh," said Lanis.

    Ristau''s grinding stopped, "Ah...alright."

    He patted his companion off his lap and slipped a silver coin into her brazier, "Tomorrow, then." He sniffed and wiped his nose, watching her saunter off to the next open hand.

    "Welcome to Omei, young travelers," he said, stuffing his tools into his pocket but paying them little heed. "Where dirt and depravity mirror the faces of its citizens."

    "Ristau!" Lanis slammed a hand on the table and shoved his face to Ristau''s ear. "I assume the use of Down also falls into ''none of my business''? Despite the obvious legal issues."

    "It helps me think."

    Lanis scoffed and handed him handkerchief, "And do you ever think about the damage it''s doing to you?"

    "Don''t worry, I''ll heal. I always do."

    "Your body might, but will your mind? I can''t have you��"

    "People are free to fall as they like here, remember?" A lilting voice cut through murmur of the crowd as they were joined by a comely lady Tal who knew how to dress for the imagination. Long, ebony curls bounced on her hips, and the two purple hoops shone proudly atop her right ear.

    But Lanis ignored her wily sashaying with a disapproving scowl, "It''s not safe, Isa. And you know it."

    "The world isn''t safe, my dear Lanis. Even under your gracious and watchful eye." The matron came up behind Ristau and raked delicate fingers through his hair, massaging gently until his shoulders sagged and his head fell back. "At least I can make it tolerable."

    "Speaking of guilty pleasures, what brings you down to the pit?" The full-point fae smirked at the party, and the fins that graced her jaw quivered, "And with so many? Four is quite bold. Even for you."

    "Bold, but not impossible," said Isa''s attendant, a male folded-point fae doning a blue hoop on his right earlobe. He brushed up against Cassius and the fly-like wings on his wrists fluttered in excitement.

    Cassius froze, flushing red, and Syra bit her lip to keep from laughing.

    "They''re with me," Lanis said, leering at him.

    "Well, someone''s selfish," he said and huffed away to Isa''s side.

    "Easy, Laisaf," she said, patting his bare chest, "their business appears elsewhere."

    "But, if you ever get an inkling," Isa said to the party, "the first round is on the house."

    She led Laisaf back into the pit of patrons, and Lanis hung his head with a sigh.

    "So, are you coming back with us or not?" he asked Ristau.

    "Back where, again?" Ristau slouched over the table.

    "The lab," Lanis hissed and pointed to Syra''s earring. "Valen sent her."

    "Ah." Ristau snapped his mouth shut and regained his composure, "Very well, then."

    ***

    A wave of comfort washed over Syra as they followed Ristau through the corridors of Omei''s academy. It smelled of herbs and dusty books, and warm light poured through the windows as the roots and crystals overhead dimmed with the setting sun. Despite the flow of mana around them, Syra felt fatigue tug at her limbs and feet and eyed the pillowed couches as they passed.

    Waiting outside an alchemy den was a lady Tal of flowing hair and satin gown that clung to her curved frame in all the right places. She thumped an impatient finger against the book she was holding.

    "I was beginning to wonder if I had to fetch you myself," she said to Ristau, leading them inside the lab of bottles, books, and bubbling flasks.

    "I do apologize," said Lanis, ushering the party to their seats around a table. "You know how difficult he can be when he''s...off duty."

    Ristau ignored their scowls and fell into his seat while the lady arranged pages and scrolls on the table.

    "Unfortunately," she said, apprehending his mortar he had set beside him. He snatched at thin air and she plopped it down at her seat far from his reach. "After we''re finished."

    "Welcome to my lab," she said once everyone was seated.

    "Your lab?" Ristau hissed. "I''m the one who brought you here."

    "It would be your lab, if you spent more time in it."

    She turned her attention Syra and her crew, "It''s a tad cluttered, but I hope you''ll find it suitable."

    "Suitable for what?" Petra asked.

    "This is Sulaer," Lanis said after a brief pause. "She''s one of Mirna''s archmages."

    It was then that Syra noticed the two gold hoops atop Sulaer''s ear.

    "She has been graciously working down here to find a cure for the infection."

    "That''s great, but what does that have to do with the shard?" Aidan asked.

    Sulaer''s amber eyes stared him down in silence, "Do you know what started the infection? That is was not simply caught, but made?"

    "Tahlu said an alchemist made it, on accident."

    "And?"

    "And he used a shard to power the spell?" Her unblinking gaze made him nervous.

    "So to undo this spell, it would make sense to?"

    Aidan''s mouth was left hanging. He had dealt with alchemy before, but nothing of this magnitude.

    "Work backwards," said Syra, gaining Sulaer''s attention. "To unravel a knot you have to work backwards. Spells are the same way. But that requires all conditions to be the same as they were during casting."

    "And that means, what?" asked Aidan.

    Syra sighed and her shoulders drooped, "That they need the shard to power a counter-spell."

    Aidan leered over at Lanis, "I thought you brought us here to collect the shards. To destroy them."

    "We did."

    "Then why are you still using it? That''s what killed your people in the first place."

    "I am well aware of that," Lanis leered back, the feathers at his crown beginning to stand. "And we have to live with that mistake every day. But many harmful things can be used for good if treated correctly."

    "You''re taking an awfully big risk, Lanis."

    "And you would have me do what, exactly? Sit on my ass and do nothing? Just watch as my people starve and their children be born disfigured, if they even survive at all? We can''t even feel sunlight without blistering. If it weren''t for the few fae and my nighthands, we''d have starved decades ago."

    Lanis took a few breaths to calm himself, then leaned over to Aidan, "You''re a prince. So tell me, what would you have done in my situation?"

    Aidan glanced over to Syra and the twins, but Lanis grabbed him by the chin and forced his face forward.

    "I didn''t ask them, I asked you. As Altaira''s next king, what would you do?"

    Aidan fought the urge to punch him in the face. But Lanis'' eyes were clear and begged for another option. Though, Aidan knew there was none.

    "Fine. What do you need us to do?"

 |Chapter 14| Bookwyrm

    <hr>

    "All of Caelus'' notes are on these shelves," Sulaer said, waving to a bookcase brimming with old books and older scrolls. Some laid sideways, still open, while others had free pages poking out of them. "I tried to organize them, but they just never seem to stay put. You can blame Ristau for that."

    Syra pulled one with roughened edges from a shelf and leafed through it. Her jaw tensed, overwhelmed by the mass of messy script and sketches smirking up at her.

    "I know it looks daunting," Sulaer said. "Believe me, I''ve spent decades pouring over these things and I''m still puzzled by some of his spelling."

    "And you expect me to find something you haven''t?"

    Sulaer grinned and took the book from her hands, sliding it back in its place, "I expect Valen''s apprentice to give it her best shot."

    "You know him?" Syra knew her mentor had a reputation, but was surprised by its reach.

    "All the Kesh Raza know him. But he was also a study partner of mine back in Heartwood."

    "You went there, too?" Syra broke into a whine. "I am so jealous."

    Sulaer laughed and patted her on the shoulder, "Well, there''s plenty to learn here."

    "If I can even understand any of it."

    To say there were many tomes would be an insult. Sulaer''s lab was essentially a library with the occasional bench and cabinet. One with writings Syra had never seen, on subjects she had never seen, and most all of them were written in Talian.

    "Don''t you worry. I took notes on Caelus'' notes, and they''re much more organized."

    Syra buried her unease and took a long look about the room, steeling herself, "So, where do we start?"

    Sulaer guided her through the makings of the spell first. Its foundations and procedure, and why this was added with that. Over the next couple days she gave demonstrations, showing how the different ingredients interacted under different conditions, and translating along the way. Syra was relieved that her room was adjacent to the lab as they rarely left, even for sleep. After days of introduction and mental drilling, Syra had a rudimentary hold on the language and was able to read and deduce for herself with the use of Sulaer''s notes.

    "Now, the experiments start," Sulaer said, gathering her notes.

    "Experiments?"

    Sulaer grinned, "Today, I take you to the shard."

    Further into the academy, where wooden walls became carved from stone, the shard slept in an iron case within a room stained, charred, and fractured by the years of failed trials. The cabinets were stocked, but the shelf-lined walls were bare.

    "Our past trials have been a bit...volatile," Sulaer said, "So, we had to move most everything to a safer location."

    "That explains the lab," said Syra, stopping abruptly as the acrid air stung her nose hairs.

    "You''ll get used to it," Sulaer said, seeing her crinkled nose, "but do make sure to take a break now and again. The lingering fumes can give you quite a headache after while."

    Sulaer motioned Syra over to the central table where the shard''s box sat leering at them, "Come, it''s stable in this condition."

    Peering into the box, Syra could feel the pressure pulsing from the shard. Such a puny thing, she thought, seeing how it took up little space in the box.

    "Take it," said Sulaer, "It won''t burn you. Surprisingly."

    The marbled green-and-purple shard fit neatly in Syra''s palm and was warm. Very warm. Like a fire before you got too close. Syra could feel her body gulping down the mana it radiated, to the point of becoming dizzy.

    "Be careful not to drink too much," Sulaer said, placing the crystal back into its box and latching it, "You''ll overload yourself and end up bedridden with horrible bodyaches."

    "You speak from experience?"

    "Risk of the trade, unfortunately. I''m sure Valen has lectured you plenty on proper mana management?"

    Syra nodded and stepped back from the box, its heat fading from her skin, "What should I do now?"

    A wide grin cracked across Sulaer''s face and she handed Syra a notebook, freshly bound, "Play with it."

    "Play with it?" Syra repeated, "Isn''t that what caused this whole mess in the first place?"

    "Yes, and it''s the only way to get us out of it. Like you said, work backwards. You have the notes, supplies, and now the power source. I expect an update every day, and do try not to blow anything up��this is the last room left. I''ll keep my study door open if you have any questions, and I''ll update you if I find anything new."

    And like that, Syra was left to wilds of alchemical discovery, with a hurried vocabulary list and century-old ramblings of a Talian hermit. If there was ever a magical exam to be passed, it was this one.

    ***

    A week passed with Syra mired nose-deep in parchment and potions, but book after book, trial after trial, she still hadn''t made any leeway outside of singing her eyebrows. And other than at mealtimes, she hadn''t seen nor spoken to Aidan or the twins. Any attempts were met with, "How''s the cure coming?", "Find anything?", or the more common, "Just focus on getting the shard so we can go."

    Normally, she wouldn''t have minded being left to her devices in solitude. But, normally she''d have someone to turn to for help, be it a teacher or classmate. Even Aidan had clever solutions sometimes. But despite her original promise, Sulaer busied herself in her own readings and research, many times disappearing for hours all together. It was that sort of day when Syra went to her balcony for a quick rest.

    The balcony off her hallway faced over the terrace towards the city''s center. She could see the training field, the Playhouse with its patrons, and beyond that a flower garden with a small pond. She watched from this spot as Cassius and Petra trained one-on-one with Lanis in combat��Wyn had insisted that if they were to stay until a cure was found, they might as well learn to be useful. They were getting better, and Syra found it a relaxing distraction from the dim lab with strong smells, and words that blurred together. But there was something off about that scene that day. An uneasiness that drew her attention from the twins to the small bench by the pond. A bench where Aidan sat, too comfortably, next to Sulaer in her satin dress with her big books.

    Syra''s stomach dropped. They were laughing. She waved the thought away as quickly as it came, but the cold knot in her gut told her to keep watching. Sulaer pointed to the book sprawled across both their laps, and he smiled. He smiled that smile where his forehead creased and his eyes glinted from behind that mask of smart sensibility he always wore��a smile she had not seen since the festival. But this time it wasn''t for her.

    There were more laughs, more smiles, more flicks of the hair. There was always more, and Syra had to break away from the balcony before she broke herself. She returned to the lab, in its quiet, dim solitude, but her mind was now a blur and she felt the prodding of nausea.

    Just ignore it, she thought. We''ve all been stressed and he deserves a nice break. And even if something does come of it, it''s not like we''re together anymore.

    She forced herself to continue working, throwing herself into the scripts and charts and diagrams of old, looking for any missing piece or glint of hidden meanings. But nothing helped. Her mind kept returning to the image of Aidan smiling with Sulaer, and she continued to return to the balcony where any sight of him numbed the grief left to fester.

    Two more weeks went by like this. And the more she looked for evidence of their relations, the more she found: more hours in the garden, more exchanged gazes at meetings, more whispered giggles at the dinner table. Many times she started to tell Cassius of her troubles, hoping that perhaps by purging them she could lessen the ache that gnawed away at her and made her world dim and gray. But she never could.

    She''d watch from her balcony as he and Petra found confidence in their two-legged fighting skills: their weapons becoming lighter and swifter, until a swing and dodge were second nature. No, he had his own problems to deal with. Certainly, he had dealt with hers far too much at this point. This was something she had to bare on her own. And that just made the ache deeper.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    She was returning from her time on the balcony��which had become a bit of a habit��when a low rattle came from one of the rooms a few doors down from the lab. The door stood slightly ajar and through the crack she could see Ristau slumbering wide-mouthed at his desk. She went to walk onwards down that hall, but the mortar and pestle atop his desk called her back.

    Ristau had those at the Playhouse, she thought, recalling their first meeting. She had been curious about this "Down" they spoke of, but never found the chance to ask.

    Please don''t squeak, she begged the door as she pushed it open with a fingertip. She took a step into the room and paused, watching Ristau for any movement, but he snored on with his head rested back against his chair. Padding over to the desk, she examined the dusty bowl and the small bag sitting open next to it. Again, she glanced over at Ristau, but he continued to dream with a slight grin on his ruddy face. He looked so calm and happy. Did Down affect dragons the same way it did Tal?

    Then she reached for it, plucking it by the drawstrings. It was the swift, heavy hand that made her jump.

    "Careful, milady," Ristau said, fully awake and gripping both her hand and the bag in one large hand, "That''s a slippery slope you''re treading on."

    Syra looked down at the bag, but didn''t move.

    "Does it help?" she asked in a small voice, "Will it make the pain go away?"

    "No," he said, empathy softening the edges of his face, "but it will dull it."

    He lifted his hand and she took the bag, clutching it to her chest, before turning to leave.

    She stopped in the doorway, "Why are you��"

    "The only thing that clouds the mind better than rage," he said with a solemn face, "is grief. And I need your mind to save my people."

    She nodded, shut the door, and returned to her quarters where she drowned herself in pages, and the ache slid into its box and waited.

    ***

    It was Cassius who found her.

    "Syra!" he exclaimed when he entered later that night to find her dazed and lopsided in her chair. "What the hell happened?" he asked, sitting her up straight.

    She mumbled something about a potion and needing to get back to work, and that''s when he saw the dust specks under her nose.

    "You''re kidding me." He looked to her desk to find the bag open with dusting around its brim.

    "It helps," Syra said, pulling out of her stupor and smiling up at him. "Well, at least until this groggy part. I think I might finally be on to something. I think I can��"

    "Oh no," Cassius interrupted, putting a finger to her lips, "You''re not telling me anything until you''ve sobered up." He picked her up from her chair and set her on the bed.

    "But I''m fine, really!"

    "Bashta!" he cursed, taking Syra aback by his sudden harsh tone, "You''re pale, wobbly, and slurring your words."

    "I''ll be fine soon enough." She shooed his hand away from her forehead, "Just...let me enjoy not feeling like shit for a moment."

    Cassius stared down at her, his confused face reddening, "How do you think Aidan would feel if he saw you like this?"

    The mention of his name woke the monster inside the box, and Syra grimaced at the pin prick in her chest, "He has someone else to worry about now."

    Genuine surprise flashed across Cassius'' face, "Who?!"

    "Don''t play dumb. It''s sickeningly obvious." She rested her head back against the headboard, tired of faking her cheeriness.

    Cassius'' eyes searched his memories of the past days before scoffing, "Well, it''s not Petra, I can tell you that right n��"

    "No, you blind lizard. Sulaer!" She wriggled farther down into the bed and clutched at a pillow, "With her silky hair and library and big...womanly-ness."

    He softened, "You''re being silly."

    "I can''t compete with that, Cas."

    "And you don''t have to."

    She looked up from her pillow like a scared hatchling.

    "You''re a Montari. Firstborn and��Petra forgive me��rightful heir to our whole clan. Not to mention a skilled mage and top-class smartass. You could have your pick from any peak you''d like. Even a foothiller if one caught your fancy. Yes, Aidan''s a prince. That''s nice, I get it. But he''s also a human. He''s��"

    "He''s also the one I chose," Syra hushed, the sparkle gone from her eyes. "The one I chose...didn''t choose me. Can''t you understand that?"

    Cassius'' mouth shut. His jaw tensed and he sighed and looked away, unable to put his thoughts into words she would care to understand.

    "More than you know," he whispered.

    In the quiet, Syra''s grip on the pillow loosened and a wry smile bubbled to the surface as her mask slipped off.

    "Though, I can''t really blame him. I''d squat for her if I were in his shoes."

    She  looked over at Cassius and chuckled at how embarrassed he looked by the subject.

    "We''re all messed up, you know?" she said, gaining a raised eyebrow from him, "all three of us. Petra keeps pining after Tarys, who wouldn''t know she existed if she weren''t Vayguard. I''m going bat-shit over a human boy. And you..."

    She looked Cassius over with a slow, critical eye, and sneered when they landed at his neck. With a sly finger, she flicked the strands of hair away and slid it across the light bruising just under his ear. "You go sneaking off to have a little fun with fairy boy when nobody''s looking."

    Cassius grabbed her hand away and snarled, baring his teeth, "That''s not what happened."

    But that didn''t stop him from flushing, or Syra from snickering.

    "Hold your fire, I meant no harm. Hell, I might as well join you next time. First round''s free, right?"

    Cassius breathed out his anger but kept a firm grip on her hand.

    ��Let go,�� he said, hushed but firm.

    Syra scoffed, ��You��re the one holding me.�� She pulled away but his grip was steady.

    ��Syra,�� Cassius locked eyes with her, neither blinking.

    Syra stopped struggling as silent words passed between them.

    Let go.

    How long had it been since she heard him say that? A lifetime it seemed, yet for a second she was back in their den balling to her little brother about some trivial matter.

    ��Let go,�� he said again, softer this time and he let her hand fall to her side.

    Her breath came in deep, wavering huffs. Her chest tightened, and then her throat, and then her jaw and she fought back.

    ��There it is,�� Cassius snatched up a pillow like a washbowl to a drunkard.

    Even with the plush mute, the small room sung with lost wails. She cried for the hand that wasn��t there. For the voice that hummed and snickered and groaned. For the comfort of knowing glances and finished sentences. She cried for the grown, but scared child now beyond her reach. Though clearly visible, no number of "I love you"s could penetrate the glass sanctum she was now expelled from. Her words meant nothing now. No matter their strength, the throws that consumed her and made her lungs sting would be but smoke against stone walls.

    ��It hurts���� she creaked, clawing at her sternum. Her nails dug into the fabric of her robe as another wail passed. ��Make it stop,�� she doubled over with her face in the pillow. ��Please Cas, make it go away.��

    Cassius could only shake his head in regret, ��This isn��t something I can fix.��

    Syra��s breath shook as she sat herself back up, still clutching at her chest.

    Cassius shuddered. Her eyes were dull. Puffy, red tissue swarmed two pools of pale green; the pale green of leaves waiting to die.

    Her finger scratched at the skin beneath her robe, ��I want it out.�� Her voice was flat.

    ��What?��

    She tapped her sternum between her breasts, ��It burns; I want it out. I just want to����

    She stopped tapping and went silent.

    ��What?�� Cassius searched her face but her eyes were glazed over.

    She brushed her robe off her shoulders, exposing her bare chest splattered with red lines.

    ��Syra, what are you����

    Syra brought her finger to her lips, hushing him, and murmured into the shadows something quiet and something very old. Something beyond Cassius�� comprehension, but made the stone of the very walls hum.

    ��Namarani.��

    Light lined Syra��s hand and she placed a finger to her chest. From under her fingertip, light spiraled out like a bloom, flickering and rotating around her hand.

    Cassius had to squint. It was brilliant. A kaleidoscope of pinks and greens painted the walls in verdant shimmers. He watched on in a mesmerized stupor until a stroke of her finger down her sternum sliced the bloom clean open. He shielded his face from the burst of light and heat that radiated from the phantom blossom at Syra��s chest.

    From within the bloom Syra drew out a shimmering crystal and held it in two delicate hands. Wonder and confusion battled on her face as she analyzed the multi-pointed prism she had birthed.

    ��Syra,�� Cassius fumbled after his pupils adjusted, ��is that your����

    ��Soulstone? Yes, it is.�� She said rather flat, staring into the crystal that housed a tiny sun in its core. ��Tell me Cas, how can something so beautiful hurt so terribly?��

    "Put it back!" He commanded, more concerned than angry. "If that shatters you��ll��"

    "I know. I just��want it to stop, that��s all. Just for a little while." Her shoulders relaxed and color seeped back into her cheeks.

    Cassius stared in awe at the brilliant stone in her small hands. At the ball of pure essence caged inside. At the streams of light that bubbled and poured out like water from a spring and pooled onto the floor before disappearing into mist.

    This was his sister''s soulstone, and it was leaking.

    "What do I even do with this?" Syra half-laughed at her overflowing hands. "If Aidan doesn''t want it, then..."

    "Syra," Cassius reached out to take her hands but jerked back as they were immediately singed.

    "See? Even you can''t handle it all."

    Cassius sat back and stared weakly at his reddened palms. Just above them, a glint of light caught his attention. With a squint, he made out a thin thread strung between his chest and one point of the soulstone.

    "No, I can''t," he admitted, "but I can share it."

    "What?"

    "There are so many other points here, Syra," he said, motioning to the stone, "I''m just one of them. Aidan is just one of them. But so is Petra, and Grandmaw Vega, and Valen. I know Aidan is special, believe me I feel it, but you have more than him."

    He reached over and put a hand gently on her forearm. His skin warmed and reddened as a trickle of light flowed into his own arm. He flinched at first, but it was tolerable like a hot bath.

    "I will take all that I can. The rest is up to you to share."

    "That...might take me a while."

    "That''s alright. I''m not going anywhere."

    After a moment, Syra slowly drew her soulstone closer but grimaced as it touched her chest.

    "But it still hurts."

    He offered a knowing nod, "Would you like me to stay here tonight? Would that help?"

    Syra nodded and choked a sob as she pulled the shining stone back into herself. The light faded from the room and from her eyes, and she made herself into a ball in Cassius'' arms.

    "There we go. Just breathe."

    While his voice and warmth were comforting, it reminded her of the late nights with Aidan after nightmares of Marrak shook her from bed. But she obeyed. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his chest, breathing in the scent of cool stone and warm bedding.

    "You smell like home."

    "Do I?" he chuckled, "Petra says I smell like dirt and burnt grass."

    "Close enough, I guess."

    Syra''s small grin calmed Cassius'' nerves and he patted her lightly on the head, "Don''t worry. After all this is over, we''ll all get to go back home."

    Go back home, Syra thought, Is that what I want? To go back to the lair? If we can destroy the shards, then Marrak will have no choice but to leave us alone, right? I can go back to the clan. I can go back and become...

    Syra''s eyes were drawn to the black marks on Cassius'' chest that peeked out from under his'' shirt.

    "Actually, Cas, while you''re here," she squirmed from under his hold and left the bed to snatch up a blank strip of parchment from her desk, "could you hold still for a second?"

    "Why? What is it? Are you feeling better?"

    "Not really, but I had an idea."

    He fidgeted as she unbuttoned his shirt, "W-what are you doing exactly?"

    "I said, hold still." She shoved him down onto the bed.

    "Easy! Damn."

    "Sorry, I just really need this to be accurate."

    Running down his sternum were black runes left from Valen''s spelltag. She pressed the parchment overtop.

    "Just relax," she cooed and traced the markings with smooth strokes of a finger until they burned onto the paper. "That''ll do," she said, admiring her work.

    "What''s that for?" Cassius asked, scooting away and buttoning his shirt, completely dumbfounded by her sudden change in mood.

    She thumbed at the parchment, "These runes are in Talian, that''s why I couldn''t read them before. But now," she smiled to herself, "now I have an idea."

 |Chapter 15| Bookworm

    <hr>

    The next morning brought Syra a splitting headache and a visitor.

    "Did you hit the books, or did the books hit you?" asked Ristau from her desk. She hadn''t even heard him come in.

    "That''s not funny," Syra said, massaging her throbbing temples.

    "Yes, it is. And what''s even funnier, is that I was woken up by your brother lecturing me about keeping you sober."

    "He told you?"

    Damn it, Cas. It''s called a secret.

    "Of course, he did. Who else does he know with access to this?"

    He snatched the bag of Down from her desk.

    "Hey, wait, don''t!" She sprang upwards and gripped at the air towards the bag, "I need that."

    "Uh-uh," he said, shaking a finger, "One: this is mine. Two: it was my mistake for giving it to you in the first place."

    "But you use it all the time."

    "Yes, and that''s my own burden to break. You have other options, like that protective brother of yours." Grief softened his eyes, "Down may numb the pain, but that makes it even easier to release it on others. And the last thing you need right now is to spit venom at someone who shows the least bit of concern."

    She would have retorted, but the Down had left her system and the words she spat at Cassius last night burned her tongue worse than the dry-mouth. She groaned and hung her head. Her chest still ached and burned from where she had removed her soulstone, but she didn''t have the energy to explain to Ristau. She certainly didn''t want another lecture.

    "I''m sorry."

    "Don''t tell me that," he said, riffling through her papers, "I certainly wouldn''t believe you."

    His words hit hard and she remained silent.

    "And you know what''s the worst part?" He paused his shuffling to look right at her, "You knew better. And I know you knew better because you wouldn''t have said those things otherwise."

    Syra had no excuse to give. Every one that popped into her head she could reason away as being callous, petty, and downright pitiful. A bitter, self-centered brat wallowing in self-pity, that''s what she had shown herself to be. So this is what Aidan meant by ''mopiness''.

    "What is this?" Ristau broke Syra out of her self-reflection as he looked down on a spelltag similar to the one she had copied from Cassius last night. The runes were different and more complicated, but the structure was the same.

    "Progress."

    "No-no," he said, pounding a finger on it, "this isn''t a counter-spell. This is a shapechanging spell." He leered over at Syra who met his gaze with confidence, "You can''t be serious."

    "I''m very serious, and all I need now is a power source," she said. "Plus, it made me realize something about Caelus'' spell, and why our attempts keep failing."

    "Oh, and what''s that?"

    "That we''ve been going about it all wrong, for starters. But I can''t really get dressed and to go tell everyone with you standing here, now can I?"

    Ristau begrudgingly put the spelltag back on the desk.

    "Thank you. Now, go and bring everyone to the lab."

    ***

    The seats around the lab table were filled by the time Syra arrived, and all waited anxiously for her news. To her disappointment��but of no surprise��Aidan took the seat next to Sulaer, who watched her enter with both nervousness and excitement.

    "So, what did you find?" Sulaer asked, almost bouncing in her chair, "What''s this ''realization'' Ristau was talking about?"

    Syra pushed her insecurities aside and plopped a thick notebook on the table, opening to Sulaer''s notes on the powering of Caelus'' spell and its general make-up.

    "Lanis," she said, looking to the king who was deep in thought, "when we first got here, you said that Kor Lahru''s mana spring ran down here, right?"

    "Correct, it does."

    "You then said that you believed this to be a reason why the disease isn''t progressing��why the Lower Tal aren''t getting any worse."

    "Yes��"

    "You''re wrong," she said, inciting tension around the table, "At least, I think you''re wrong." She pointed at little Leimia who sat quiet by his side, "You are getting worse. Every generation is getting worse. You said that children born here suffer worse deformities if they survived at all."

    "Again, correct, but what is your point?"

    "I think it''s the mana spring that''s making them worse, and why we can''t find a cure."

    Sulaer looked confused, but intrigued and motioned for her to continue.

    "We thought all the conditions had to be the same for the spell to be reversed. But you can''t counter a curse using something that it draws power from. You''ll only be feeding it," Syra explained. "Caelus'' spell was powered by the shard��a huge source of mana��so would it not make sense that the disease is also powered by mana?"

    "The mana spring is feeding the disease," Sulaer hushed, growing pale.

    "Yes, just like using the shard in our trials stops any counter-spell from working. We''ve been trying to swim upstream."

    "So, we do what, exactly?" Aidan asked.

    "Stop using the shard, for one," said Ristau.

    "Not just that," Syra said, setting a second book on the table and flipping to a sketch of an Arrun tree. "We have to starve it."

    ***

    "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Aidan asked Syra as she devoured tome after tome searching for any instructions on how to create a mana-draining potion. "Don''t Tal need mana to survive?"

    "Not necessarily," said Ristau, who also joined in on the search party. "Unlike Fae or dragons, we''ve separated from the Mana Flow over time. So, while draining our reserves will severely weaken us, it won''t kill us."

    "But, you could run the risk of the disease killing us while our bodies are too weak to fight off the infection," said Lanis. He and Leimia had a tower of books each to themselves that had already been looked through.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    "So, we''ll just have to kill the infection before it kills the patient," said Syra. "Do you have any information on any known cures?"

    "Before we get to that, let''s focus on weakening the infection first," Sulaer said, nose-deep in her own stack.

    Aidan looked around at everyone sitting in a sea of parchment, their eyes red from hours of scouring��even Petra was making progress.

    He sighed with drooped shoulders, "I know how to make one."

    All heads snapped up from their pages.

    "You tell us this now?" Petra yelled.

    "I wasn''t sure if it fit what you were looking for, and I''m honestly not proud of it."

    "What are you talking about?" asked Syra.

    "Dragonlances," he said, meeting her gaze, "they''re tipped with a poison made from seed husks of the Arrun tree. If concentrated enough, it can kill any magical creature...even dragons. That''s why we use them."

    Syra bit her lip, "And you know how to make this poison?"

    "Yes, " he hesitated, "I helped invent it."

    Syra, Petra, and Cassius all stared at him shock.

    "Those arrows were made by you?" Petra growled.

    "By my alchemists, yes. We were trying to protect the cit��"

    "We lost clan members because of you!" Petra seethed but Cassius'' grip held her lunge at bay.

    "Then maybe you shouldn''t have flown so close," Aidan spat back. "We have borders just like you, and that includes the sky. So, you should''ve just stayed way up in the mountains where you belong and let us be."

    "Where we belong?" Cassius asked.

    Tension grew with the silence, and Aidan lowered his head with a deep breath, "I''m sorry. That was wrong of me to say."

    "Sorry my ass. You meant what you said." Petra''s eyes glistened and she shot to her feet, knocking over her stack of books, "I knew we shouldn''t have brought you along. You''re no different than Marrak, or Larson, or any of the other Black Thorn members. Only caring to act when it suits you best. And to think I was starting to trust you."

    "Petra, I''m sorry. I take it ba��"

    "Bashta!" she cried, spitting at him, "You''re just a lowly pink worm. Altaira''s doomed with a king like you."

    With that she stormed off, leaving the rest to sit and simmer in her wake. Cassius went to speak but he couldn''t bring himself to even look at Aidan, and the four Tal could only watch on as outsiders.

    "Where we belong?" Syra repeated, her betrayed eyes digging at him. "After what you''ve seen your own people do, you still see us as monsters? Even as we sit here trying to help the Tal?"

    "It''s a hard habit to break, Syra," Aidan admitted. "Those roots run deep and I...I just need time to let them die."

    "More time, huh?" She closed her book and stood. "Unfortunately, time is something we don''t have. Marrak is moving, and we don''t have ''more time'' to wait for your scars to fade. We need to know that we can still trust you."

    "And you''re one to talk about trust?"

    "Do not bring that into this," Syra snarled. "Can we trust you fight with us or not? Yes or no?"

    "Yes. Of course, you can."

    "Good. Now, get to making that vile poison of yours and I''ll look into killing the infection for good. Sulaer?" she asked, turning her attention away from Aidan, "Are these all the books you have?"

    "No," she said with a twinkle in her eye, "just the ones we know with relevant information. There''s also the Grand Library below the academy."

    "A Grand Library?" asked Cassius.

    "Oh, yes. Omei has the largest library in all the realms and, to be honest, there are scrolls there that even I haven''t read yet."

    "Take me there," Syra said, her face steeled against the screams that begged to burst out. "We might be able to find more clues on how to kill this thing."

    "Sure. There''s a whole section on all our medicinal advances."

    "Then we''ll start there." Syra went to follow Sulaer out of the lab, but stopped abruptly, "Oh, and Aidan?"

    Aidan looked up at her, guilt plastered on his face.

    "Where I belong, is my choice."

    ***

    Down into the depths of the mountain they went, spiraling down the main staircase. The roots of Mother Tree still reached even this far down, and lit their way past floor after floor. The Medicinal Section was located on the seventh floor and took up most of the sixth wing that branched off of the main staircase.

    "So, this is even bigger than the Sylvani library?" Syra asked Sulaer in amazement.

    "Just by a floor. But I still like to brag about it."

    "Just looking at all these books makes me want to fall asleep," said Petra. The twins had joined Syra after Petra decided she''d much rather read than be stuck in a room with Aidan.

    "We can''t nap now," Syra said. "Not until we have a solid plan, at least."

    "Here," Sulaer said, leading them to sit around a wide, round table off in a cozy nook with a small plant as its centerpiece, "have a seat. I''ll warm us up."

    Carved from stone and far from the warmth of the city, the Grand Library held a chill. The siblings sat about the table while Sulaer fiddled with the succulent-like plant. Peeling back the cone of leathery leaves revealed a rather plump bulb. She rubbed her hands together and blew on them, as if they were cold. Faint green light appeared between them and she wrapped them around the bulb. In seconds the bulb glowed and then unfurled, releasing a wave of warmth into the nook.

    "Much better," said Sulaer, turning back to the bookshelves, "now where to start?"

    Book after book they read until their stomachs growled, but still they did not find a solution.

    "What about this one?" Petra asked, sliding the open book over to Syra.

    "No, this is for a rash so it might not go deep enough. And look, it has runes, so it still needs mana to activate."

    "Ugh!" Petra groaned and laid her head on the table, exhausted and hungry, "I thought you said we could find cures down here."

    "These are cures," said Sulaer, "they just all require some addition of mana, and that''s the opposite of what we need."

    "Well, we can''t stay here forever. Even you said you haven''t read all of these. How are we supposed to?"

    "I...I don''t know."

    "Wonderful." Petra closed her book and left to return it back to the shelf. As she slid it back into place she screamed, dropping the book.

    "What is it? What happened?" Syra and Cassius called in unison, running over to her.

    "What is that?" Petra pointed an accusing finger and grimaced at the fat grub waving its pincers at them from the shelf.

    "It''s...it''s a worm," Syra said, puzzled. "Sulaer, why is there a worm down here?"

    "You are underground, remember?" said Cassius.

    "Oh, that''s just a bookworm," Sulaer answered, laughing.

    "Like, the kind that eat books?" Syra recalled hearing talk of them in Altaira, but had never actually seen one.

    "No, not exactly," Sulaer reached over and scooted the worm into her palm, and Petra quivered in disgust. "They eat their memories."

    "Come again?" Cassius asked.

    "All the memories of all the people that ever read it, even the author. It takes a lot of energy to write a book, and even more is invested by those who pour themselves over one. It''s these little fellas that hold on to that energy in the form of memories."

    "Wait. So, you''re saying these worms hold the memories of all the books in here?" Syra asked.

    Sulaer took a moment to answer, "Depends on their age, but yes, it wouldn''t surprise me at all."

    "Can I see it?" Syra asked, taking the worm from her hand and running back to the table.

    "Don''t put that thing over there!" cried Petra. "I sit there!"

    "It''s not going to bite you, Petra," Syra said, setting it down on the table. "I don''t think."

    Syra took out a piece of parchment and a quill from her bag on the table and began writing.

    "A locator spell?" asked Sulaer surprised, looking over her shoulder.

    "If that worm has memories of the information we need, then maybe I can find the book it got it from."

    Sulaer watched her hands fly over the paper, her strokes a tad sloppy in her hurry.

    "Don''t rush," she said, stopping Syra''s hands a moment, "it won''t work as well."

    Syra nodded and continued with slower, more precise marks. The script wound around the borders and spiraled inward until only a blank spot was left in the center.

    "Now you just need a purpose," said Sulaer.

    Syra hesitated. This was always the hardest part. She could learn spells fine, but creating one had always been a hurdle. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, imagining what she wanted and hoped the words would come. And then she wrote.

    Locate the tome,

    your only quest.

    And bring me there,

    At my behest.

    The bane of plagues,

    it acts alone

    To restore the body

    And make it whole.

    "Not bad for your first try," Sulaer said. "Now what?"

    Syra picked up the worm and placed it on the page. She balled a fist, charging it with mana that tingled her hand.

    "Sorry about this," she said, pointing a finger. She tapped her fingertip to the worm and a spark of electricity jolted the worm, causing it to seize and spit up the juices from its gut onto the paper.

    "That''s just disgusting," said Petra.

    "It''s magic," Syra replied, scooting the poor grub off to the side.

    "Nothing''s happening," Cassius said, watching the paper.

    "I''m not done."

    Sulaer took a pin from her pouch and handed it to Syra, who pricked her finger and pressed it to the page. The words shimmered as light traced along the spiral of ink until it came to the center.

    Please, work, she thought. But nothing happened.

    The page still glimmered, but did not move. Syra bent over the paper, analyzing it to see what she could have done wrong, stopping at the small glob of blue liquid just outside the center lines. She blew on it, flicking the glob over into the center.

    Blue mingled with red, and then it sparked and glowed. The party jumped as the page twitched and ruffled. Then it folded itself. Over and over, folding and twisting until it formed itself into a bird that flapped and hopped about the table.

    "You did it!" Sulaer rejoiced, gripping Syra''s shoulders.

    "Well, look at that, you did," Petra said, laughing at the paper bird. "What''s it supposed to do?"

    Syra bent over the table and the bird stared up at her, beak to nose.

    "Go," she said, and the bird flew from the table into the air, fluttering on its tiny wings in circles above them.

    "Where''s it going?" Cassius asked.

    "To find the cure."

 |Chapter 16| Cure

    <hr>

    The ceiling glittered like stars when they returned to the lab and the siblings were a symphony of angry stomachs.

    "Did you find anything?" Aidan asked as they entered.

    "Yes," Syra said, setting her things down, "It turns out we only need one thing."

    "Great! What?"

    "A bug."

    "A...bug?"

    "Yes."

    Aidan hesitated in confusion, but Syra''s focused gaze that looked past him eased his uncertainty, "What kind of bug?"

    "This kind." She pulled out a worn and faded scroll with a sketch of a flying insect.

    "That''s the Marsh Fly," Lanis said, peering over her head at the illustration. "They give you a nasty fever if you get bit, so we try to avoid them whenever possible."

    "Can you get one?" Syra asked.

    "They''re normal only out in the summer, but breeding season''s coming up so you might be able to find a few."

    "Good," she said, rolling up the scroll. "Apparently, while they can give you a fever, their bite can also cure certain other illnesses without the use of mana. Once the infection is gone, we can treat the fever."

    "And how will we know if the infection is gone?" asked Ristau.

    Syra paused, "I haven''t figured that part out yet."

    Lanis patted her on the back and went to leave, "You and Sulaer can work on that while Ristau and I go get the fly. Aidan, you keep working on that poison."

    "But you could get bit!" Syra called out.

    "It''s not like there isn''t a cure."

    ***

    The next night, Tahlu led them to the infirmary in Mirna. Precautions had been made to limit any accidental exposure and they were given a room to themselves. Lanis sat, disrobed, on a cot, awaiting the start of the treatment.

    "As Omei''s king," he had said, "it''s my duty to risk my life before I risk theirs."

    "How do we make sure no mana can get to him?" Aidan asked.

    "By using this." Tahlu wheeled out a casket made of solid iron, "We normally use it to transport criminals to keep their mana contained. I never expected to use it to keep it out."

    "Then are we ready?" Aidan asked, gripping a vial of dark liquid.

    Syra looked around at the team surrounding the casket, all looking to her for the go-ahead. She glanced over to Sulaer, who nodded and held the jar containing the small, buzzing insect.

    "As we''ll ever be."

    With that, Tahlu helped Lanis into the casket and they gripped at each other in a tight embrace.

    "You''ll get through this," Tahlu coached his brother in a firm whisper. But Lanis'' quivering plumes betrayed his brave demeanor and he just nodded and squeezed tighter.

    Syra waited for them to finish before giving Aidan permission to proceed.

    "I''d like to tell you it won''t, but this is going to hurt. I''m sorry." Aidan drew a needle from the vial and plunged it deep into Lanis'' shoulder.

    Lanis winced at the insertion, but quickly recovered with a look of relief, "Oh. Well, that wasn''t too bad. Just a little sting."

    Tahlu joined in his brother''s relief, but they were met with somber head shakes from the others.

    "It should be spreading shortly," Aidan said with downcast eyes. He couldn''t bring himself to even look at Cassius or Petra.

    Seconds later Lanis began to twitch and groan. Sulaer held Tahlu''s hand as he watched his brother pale and scream against the burning in his body. Syra winced remembering how horrible it felt to just inhale its fumes.

    After some time, Lanis'' breathing became shallow and he convulsed every so often.

    "How long does this take?" Tahlu asked, pacing.

    "Until he''s too weak to move", said Aidan. "As long as he''s still breathing, we continue."

    The moon was setting before Lanis settled down into shallow, but steady breaths.

    Syra, Sulaer, and Ristau all checked him over through the small glass window on the casket''s lid before nodding in approval.

    Sulaer gave Syra the jar with the fly flitting about inside and stepped away. Syra unlatched the small door in the side of the casket and loosened the jar''s lid.

    "Wait," Tahlu said, motioning for the jar, "Let me do it. If he dies, it should be me that gave it to him."

    Syra hesitated but handed over the jar and stood by Aidan. Tahlu unhitched the lid and dumped the bug into the casket, latching the door closed. Through the window they could see it jump and flutter around before landing on Lanis'' chest. Then his body flinched.

    "It''s done," Syra said, "He''s been bit."

    "Now what?" asked Cassius, who looked almost as nervous as Tahlu.

    "Now, we wait."

    An hour or so passed and Lanis began to sweat. His breathing quickened but remained shallow, and he grew steadily paler. Soon, he was drenched in sweat and mumbling as the fever took hold. His fluffy hair now weighted down like a chicken caught in a downpour.

    Being locked outside the casket, Syra had no way of monitoring his temperature or his pulse. She began pacing herself. Up and down alongside the metal casing she prayed would not become his coffin. Every minute felt like an hour and she looked through the tiny window at every passing until Aidan pulled her aside.

    "You need to calm down," he whispered. "Tahlu is already white as a sheet just being here. If he sees you worried, it''ll only make it worse for him."

    Syra took a deep breath and nodded, resigning herself to the windowsill.

    How much longer will this take? The sun is already rising and Ristau and Leimia are still here.

    The Lower Tal couldn''t travel during the day without the risk of burns, but she knew they would never leave Lanis'' side.

    Despite the three mages'' constant surveillance, it was Cassius who caught Lanis'' dire state.

    "Something''s wrong," he said, rushing to casket to look through the window.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    "What? What is it?" Syra hurried to his side, followed by Sulaer and Ristau.

    "I don''t know, it...it just feels like I''m losing him. Like he''s barely there at all."

    "What do you mean, feels like?" Aidan asked. "He''s in a metal tank."

    "He''s an Empath, you daft jellyworm!" Petra barked, "Now bring us that potion before Lanis croaks!"

    Tahlu threw open the casket and grabbed Lanis around the shoulders, holding him upright, "Bring it over here, quick!"

    Aidan grabbed a jar of clear liquid and handed it to Tahlu who drained it down Lanis'' throat.

    "Come on, come on, that''s it. You can do it, little brother," Tahlu cooed, holding onto him.

    Syra watched as Tahlu fretted over Lanis, with his brow nearly as wet from worry. She placed a hand over Cassius'' and gripping it tight. He looked down in surprise, but smiled at her proud face and squeezed back.

    "How is he?" Tahlu asked Cassius, "Can you tell? Will he be alright?"

    "Easy now," Cassius hushed. He put his free hand gently against Lanis'' chest and closed his eyes, "There''s still a heartbeat, so he''s alive...and he''s stop fading." He looked over Tahlu with a wide smile, "He''s weak, but still here."

    "Oh, thank goodness." Tahlu pulled his brother to his chest and began to weep, rocking back and forth.

    The whole group breathed a sigh of relief and Aidan had to take a seat.

    "We still don''t know if it worked," said Ristau, hiding in a shaded corner away from the encroaching sunlight.

    "At least we know it doesn''t kill you," Petra said.

    "How are we going to know if the infection is gone?" Ristau asked Syra.

    She was speechless at first. She and Sulaer had wracked their brains trying to invent some kind of test, but came up with nothing. But then she looked at Ristau and Leimia, and saw how they shrank from the pool of light growing on the floor.

    "Sunlight," she said. "If Lanis can stand sunlight, then it must mean the infection is gone."

    "It''s a little risky given his weakened state. But it''s worth a shot," said Sulaer, looking to Ristau.

    He nodded and motioned for Leimia to follow him, "Better let him rest up before you do, just in case. I''ll take Leimia to the Recovery Room. Come fetch us when he''s up and about."

    ***

    Even with both Syra and Sulaer aiding his healing, it was nearly sunset before Lanis was up and standing.

    "Are you sure you want to do this today?" Tahlu asked, fussing over him. "The sun will be back tomorrow."

    "Yes," Lanis said through pants as his brother helped him walk to the balcony. "I need to know if it worked. I need to know if my people can be saved."

    Long shadows covered the streets of the city, but the infirmary balcony still caught the last rays of light. Lanis squinted against its brightness, but stepped out with eager footing.

    This is it, Syra thought as she watch the Brother Kings walk out. We either tortured a man for nothing, or we saved an entire city.

    "How is it?" Tahlu asked, looking him over for the beginnings of redness and blistering, "Does it burn?"

    "It''s...it''s warm," Lanis laughed as he felt the light''s warmth flow over him. A warmth he had almost forgotten after decades of life underground.

    "Did it work?" Sulaer called from behind them.

    Tahlu beamed and scooted Lanis around to face them, "So far, so good!"

    Tears welled and fell from Sulaer''s eyes and she hid her face with her hands, but she couldn''t hide the giant smile that took up half her face.

    "We did it," she said, looking over to Syra, her fair cheeks now red. "We finally did it!"

    Syra was taken aback by Sulaer''s arms being thrown around her, "Yeah...we actually did!" Syra hugged her back and, for the first time, noticed how short Sulaer was for a Tal.

    "Did it work?" A voice came from the doorway, and Sulaer bolted towards it.

    "Wyn!" She careened into him, leaping into his arms and was completely bawling at this point. "Yes! Yes, it worked! Look, go see! He has no blisters!"

    Wyn and the others joined the brothers on the balcony and saw for themselves that there were, indeed, no blisters. No swelling or redness at all. Just clean, pale skin.

    "Thank you," Lanis said, looking to Syra and the others, tears now streaming from his face. "This...I can''t..." he choked on both sobs and laughs, "This is a marvelous day, indeed!"

    "It might be marvelous, but you''re still recovering," called Ristau from the shadows with Leimia in tears at his side. "Now get your royal butt back into bed before I give it blisters!"

    Tahlu and Lanis hobbled away back to the room, but Ristau stopped Syra and the others before they could follow.

    "I believe a ''good job'' is in order," he said, smiling.

    "It wasn''t just us, sir," Aidan said, glancing over to Sulaer who was being coddled by Wyn.

    Syra thought she caught a glimpse of sadness on his face, but she pushed it away and she nodded, too.

    "It really wasn''t. I could barely even read Talian before Sulaer helped me. She...she really made this whole thing possible."

    Ristau and Cassius both had proud looks on their faces. Cassius reached over and patted her on the head, ruffling her hair that desperately needed washing.

    "In any case," Ristau continued, "I believe we owe you a debt."

    Syra''s eyes went wide as she watched him pull a small box from his pocket.

    "This, now belongs to you." He opened the box to show her the glittering shard that sat inside.

    "Th-thank you...thank you!" she said, taking the box in shaking hands. Finally. Finally, they had a shard after all the traveling and fighting and studying.

    "This is only the first, remember," Ristau said. "But I sincerely hope the other four aren''t as difficult to come by."

    "Oh, good Lord, me too!" Petra wailed, causing the others to laugh.

    "Now, you can''t just carry that around like some regular old trinket," he said, taking the shard from the box. "It''s much too valuable and far more dangerous. May I?"

    He took hold of Syra''s hand and pointed to the tiny stone set in her ring.

    "This is no ordinary stone, you see. It''s a morakii. And morakii are the best conduits of mana, able to hold on to immense amounts of energy. So, the best way to hold on to these shards..." He tapped the tip of the shard to the stone, and brilliant light shone from both. The shard glowed, and wavered, and condensed, until all the light had been absorbed into the ring, "...is to keep it hidden."

    "That, was amazing," Petra said, starstruck.

    Ristau laughed and clapped his hands together, "Now, with all of that taken care of, who''s hungry?"

    ***

    The next day, after they were bathed and rested, Tahlu gathered everyone in his meeting chamber to update Valen on their accomplishments and to discuss their next moves.

    "Well, I am impressed," said Valen''s reflection in Tahlu''s seeing glass, "I never even thought about mana being the true culprit. Splendid job, all of you!"

    "Thank you, Valen, but it was Syra who realized our error and devised the plan to fix it," Sulaer said, giving Syra a grateful nod.

    "So, I''ve been told." Valen grinned ear to ear, his brick-brown eyes swollen with pride at his little apprentice, "I had high expectations sending you off, but you have outdone yourself."

    Syra flushed, hot from the eyes of those around her and from the pride she found in herself, "I''m just glad it worked."

    "As am I," laughed Lanis from his seat by the door. His color had returned, but he was still easily winded.

    Ristau had insisted he stay in bed another day, but Lanis reminded him that only Tahlu was allowed to tell him what to do, and refused to miss their sendoff. So, he sat propped in a chair with Wyn charged as his keeper.

    "As are my people. This will not be easily forgotten, I assure you."

    "How are the plans coming to cure the city, by the way?" asked Valen. "There are many Tal who need treatment."

    "Ristau and Leimia are working on that now. Once the procedure is solidified, we''ll have medics from both Omei and Mirna start taking patients."

    "And how quickly do you expect them to recover?"

    "Depending on their age and health, one to two weeks would be fair. Even sooner if our mages can rejuvenate them."

    "I''ll contact Vesna, then. She might allow them into her spring under these circumstances." Valen flipped through several rolled letters at his desk, "It seems we''ll need the extra man-power."

    Tahlu''s joy faded into tension.

    "I take it the Black Thorn is still growing?" asked Tahlu, crossing his arms and rubbing his sleeve with absent-minded fingers.

    Valen nodded, "A small group is confirmed to be in Dairos, and there are several reports of them taking Rozenfall as their current headquarters."

    "That''s certainly a good place to start," Aidan said, biting a nail in thought.

    "Why?" asked Petra, "If their problem is with how things are being run, why don''t they start with Altaira? Isn''t that your capital? Just cut off the beast''s head and the rest will fall."

    "It is the capital," said Valen, "but it is just one city of many. There''s no doubt there are supporters scurrying about, but Altaira has the largest army and plenty of battle mages at their disposal. They know it would be suicide to attack with only a small rebellion of blacksmiths and farmhands."

    "And that''s why Rozenfall is such an asset," added Aidan. "It''s built in a mana desert and filled with people who make a living fighting the magical. If they want any chance at breaking Altaira''s defense, Rozenfall''s a necessity."

    "So, let''s say they convince Rozenfall to fight," Cassius said, "what kind of damage are we looking at?"

    "For humans, I''d expect normal battle wounds. But for you?" Aidan looked over at the siblings, "I''ll just tell you that Altaira''s entire supply of Arrun oil comes from there, and that''s just one of their commodities."

    Not one peep was uttered as a grave realization washed over Syra. She wouldn''t be just fighting Marrak. If he was indeed the Black Thorn leader, she would be fighting people, too. And an army of them at the rate it was going. People who had had nine years to invent and perfect ways of protecting themselves from magical kind��her kind.

    "Aidan''s right," Valen said. A grim expression peeked out from under loose hair strands put there by sleepless nights, "Rozenfall is a deadzone for the magical, even I can''t go there without feeling drained. Avoid it, if at all possible."

    "But for now," Tahlu said, standing and giving the party a reassuring eye, "stay to the woodland trails west of the mountains. You''ll have to pass through Misty Hollow, but after that the path to Morai should be safe. Most of it lies within Kiithran territory, and they don''t take kindly to uninvited guests."

    "Morai?" asked Syra.

    "As in the Morai Mountains? The floating ones?" asked Aidan. His voice wavered and Syra saw him tense from the corner of her eye.

    Valen nodded, "The shards were originally divided between each realm, where their leaders were charged with protecting them. You now have the shard given to the Tal," he motioned to Tahlu, "you will find the second shard belongs to D��rgah, the leader of the Kiithrani who reside in the Morai Mountains."

    "But Morai is nearly at the coast. We''ll never get there in time," Aidan said.

    "Not if you''re walking," Tahlu said with a slight grin.

 |Chapter 17| Misty River

    <hr>

    Tahlu led the party outside to the Southern Gate where their rides had been prepared. Aidan looked on in silent confusion, but Petra cackled at the long, fuzzy faces that blinked down at them.

    Instead of horses, they were brought mero, for the Tal did not ride horses. They stood about the size as a horse, but were much more limber��dainty even��and of cloven hoof. Perfect for scaling the rocky ledges of the mountains. Their hair was fluffy, particularly around the neck, with two small horns poking out between their ears.

    "Not what you were expecting?" Tahlu asked Aidan in jest as he scratched the creature behind its ears. "Just think of them as horses of the mountains. There are many steep trails where you''re going, and mero make a rock wall look like a staircase."

    The mero bleated and stomped a hoof as Tahlu found its favorite scratching spot, and its leg muscles rippled under its fur.

    "They''re also quite fast when you get them going."

    They bid their farewells and Sulaer made sure to hug each one of them before they mounted up.

    "Please, be careful," she said. "The mountains may be old and beautiful, but they can also be dangerous. Just because a rock looks sturdy, doesn''t mean it is."

    "We''re well aware," said Petra.

    "Oh, right. You would be, wouldn''t you?" Sulaer said, recalling their montane origin. "Well, I still packed you some medical supplies, just in case. There''s salve, bandages, some more amec crystals for you, Syra...and some herbs if you can''t find any, and��"

    "I''m sure we''ll have everything we''ll need," Syra said, giving her pack a confident pat.

    "Thank you, Sulaer," Aidan said with a prolonged gaze that made Syra''s jaw tense.

    "Of course!" Warmth bubbled from her grin and he gazed on like one soaking up the last rays of sun before winter. "Oh, almost forgot! Tahlu, didn''t you have something for him?"

    "Oh, yes, thank you." Tahlu unstrapped the sword from his belt and handed it up to Aidan.

    "Thank you, sire, but I already have one," Aidan said, taking it by the hilt.

    "Not one like this." Tahlu pulled off the sheath and silver-blue metal shone brilliant in the sunlight.

    Both Aidan and Syra''s eyes widened as Tahlu and Sulaer chuckled to themselves.

    "Is this...austram?" Aidan asked Tahlu, rotating the blade, mesmerized by its velvety luster.

    "Indeed, it is. One of the last ones made."

    Aidan twirled it with a quick hand, feeling its light weight and how it cut the air with little resistance.

    "I can see why people call it, blue steel." Syra said.

    "I know you have your own sword, and that it probably means a great deal to you," Tahlu said, "but I''m sure you''re aware that no ordinary sword can fell a dragon..."

    Aidan''s twirling ceased and he laid the blade across his lap.

    "Especially not one with hide as thick as Marrak''s."

    Aidan looked from the blade to the sword hung from his waist. He unclipped it and held it tight in his hands.

    "This was my brother''s," he said, eyes staring down at the finely crafted scabbard and into the misty memories it held. "My father had it reforged for me when I became a soldier. It''s been watching over me ever since." His thumb massaged the scuffs along the sheath before handing it down to Tahlu, "Please, take care of it."

    Tahlu accepted the sword with a bowed head and sympathetic eyes, "Until you return for it. For now, what may I call this special blade?"

    "Its name is--" Aidan paused, giving a hesitant glance over to the siblings, "Drahgrashi."

    Syra''s ears screamed as her own language hissed from his lips. Like Aidan''s own poison-tipped arrows, the draconic word for ''dragonslayer'' hit her and the twins in their throats.

    Syra didn''t need to be an empath to feel another wall shoot up around Petra, and Cassius just turned his face away, no doubt just as hurt by the sentiment.

    "I''m leaving," said Petra, giving her mero a tap with her heels.

    "Same," Cassius said and followed her.

    That left Syra sitting atop her giant goat with mouth caught open and no words.

    "I named it for Ethan," Aidan explained, keeping his eyes averted. "I thought, if I slayed the dragon that took him me, I could look it in the eye and let that be the last word it ever heard. That somehow, it might bring my brother some peace."

    "You said you named it that when you became soldier?" Syra asked, strained and barely audible.

    "Yes."

    "So, the same day you bed me?" Her voice cracked.

    That night had been one of her happiest. One she remembered fondly even now.

    How could he? she asked herself, anger churning in her gut. Of all available suitors, she had chosen him--an act no dragon took lightly. Yet he found solace in the murder of her kind?

    It was for Marrak, not your clan, came the small voice in her head that chided her whenever she was being stupid. And so were the dragonlances. He''s just as angry and scared of Marrak as you are.

    Aidan met her gaze with genuine remorse. He knew how much the sentiment hurt her, even without seeing how her face contorted from the shock. But that had been years ago, when grief and rage fueled his mission to protect his city. Syra had been his one reprieve from the nightmares and anti-magic projects that threatened to become an obsession. And despite their time and experiences together, a tickle of unease still cropped up whenever he was alone with Petra or Cassius.

    He wanted to forget it all, to just enjoy their company and charge through the journey together. But he couldn''t. He couldn''t forget the stench of burnt flesh as his brother lie dying, or the shrieks of fear from the city streets as the shadows flew overhead, or how his gut seized when Syra''s voice boomed from a scaly beast.

    She had been honest in her explanation��he knew Syra well enough to know she hated to lose anyone��but resentment still festered and a sliver of him remained callous to her cries.

    "I didn''t mean to hurt you," he said, letting the words drip from his tongue and burn into her ears.

    ***

    The ride to Misty Hollow felt longer than it should have. The mero''s agile hooves made their descent to the small mining town quick work, but the silence between them screamed unspoken words and made the hours drag on. Petra made a point to stay as far away from Aidan as possible, going as far as to skid down a steep ledge head first if it meant she could stay yards away. Cassius kept to himself, eyes on the trail and lost in his own thoughts.

    From her position behind Aidan, Syra could see rooftops and smoke poke out from the hills and treetops, and she prayed the rest of the journey wouldn''t be this awful. Aidan''s words had echoed in her head the entire way down and her mind replayed the entire last decade to her on repeat.

    She had known of his disdain for dragons��only her fellow mages seemed immune to the city''s hated��but did not know just how deep that well ran. Or maybe she did, but just didn''t want to believe that he could hate her kind so much. How he could hate her so much.

    Did I really misjudge him? she thought. He was so kind before. Before he knew everything at least. Should I have just told him everything from the beginning? Would it have made a difference? Or changed the way he saw us, if he had the chance to get to know one? Maybe if he hadn''t been so focused on revenge, our clanmates'' deaths could have been prevented. Her head swam with what-ifs and she just missed rear-ending Aidan as he stopped a ways away from the town gates.

    "We should find an inn to stay for the night," he said.

    "You can," spat Petra, "I''m not sleeping anywhere near you, dragonslayer."

    Aidan winced and let his gaze fall. He couldn''t really blame her.

    "We''ll find another place to stay," Cassius said, trotting after Petra. "There has to be more than one inn in this place."

    "Like hell I''m staying in an inn!" Petra dismounted and began unpacking her things from the mero, lying them against a tree, "My rump is staying right here. Like I said before, the less humans, the better." She gave Aidan a death glare before throwing her cloak out over a bed of grass.

    "We should stay together," Syra said. "Tahlu warned us that the Black Thorn could be in any city, and we''ll be weaker if we''re separated."

    "Then I''ll just have to handle things myself," Petra said, patting the hilt at her side.

    "Do you really think two weeks of practice makes you capable of taking down a whole squad?"

    "Let them be," Aidan said, inviting Syra to join him, "Where they sleep is their choice."

    Their choice.

    Syra hesitated and stared at Aidan''s outstretched hand. That warm hand that had fought away her nightmares, had also held that disgusting blade. As much as she had craved his embrace, the thought of being alone with him now made her stomach tighten.

    "Actually," she stammered with tensed jaw, "I think I''ll stay with them for tonight."

    "Really?" the twins said in surprised unison.

    Syra nodded without a word and averted her gaze away from the equally surprised Aidan.

    "Oh," Aidan said, fidgeting in his saddle. "Well, alright then. Just please, stay out of trouble and don''t--"

    "We''ll be fine," Cassius said, giving him an easy smile and nod, "We''ll meet you back here at dawn."

    ***

    The early hours were spent hopping shop to shop for supplies. There were no towns between there and Morai, so Aidan made sure to stock up on dried foods and hunting gear.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    "Alright, I think that''s everything," Aidan said, checking over their supplies for a second time. "Tahlu said to keep west of the mountains, so we''ll take the road south of here."

    As they passed the town square, a clamor of voices rose from a growing gathering of townsfolk.

    "Did you hear?" One woman whispered to another, grabbing Syra''s attention, "Another city has been attacked."

    "Attacked? By what?"

    "What do you think? A dragon, of course. Bloody beasts just can''t leave us alone."

    Syra grabbed Aidan by the sleeve and tugged for him to stop and listen. From her height, she couldn''t see who was amassing such a crowd, but her taller companions were unpleasantly aware of the bronze coins that hung from the group''s necks.

    "Settle down, now! Everyone!" A gruff, overconfident voice snapped Syra''s attention to the man standing atop the town well, arms outspread as if casting a spell. Larson, she growled to herself, scowling up at him from the shadows of the townspeople.

    "I know the rumors are upsetting, and I''m here to set the record straight."

    "Bashta," Petra hissed low, "he''s here to make them worse."

    "Last night," Larson continued, "I received a raven from a comrade in Rozenfall. It seems that, sometime yesterday afternoon, a dragon attacked the city, demolishing many of their buildings and setting them ablaze��including half of the Arrun groves."

    Alarm swept through the crowd, many scared and others angry.

    "But why?" yelled a young lady, "Rozenfall is miles from the mountains. Why would it attack a city that''s had no qualms with them?"

    "Because they''re dragons!" another cried.

    "They know nothing but fire and death!" went another.

    Larson held up a hand for quiet.

    "No qualms, you say?" he asked the young woman. "Are you aware that Rozenfall is the source of all your defenses? All of your precious ropes, repellents, salves and ointments for those pesky magical plants that just won''t go away. The fact that it burnt down half of their Arrun trees is proof that it knew what it was doing��that it knew Rozenfall was our main line of defense."

    "How?" called a man, unconvinced, "Dragons are just dumb, savage beasts. They don''t know anything!"

    "Beasts, perhaps," Larson agreed, "But beasts that can be controlled!"

    The crowd was aloud with whispers, like crickets in a summer field.

    "And who do you think controls them?" Larson pushed on. "Who sought peace with them? Traded with them? Made them their guard dogs?" He laughed at how insane it all sounded now.

    "Altaira," the young lady said from the hush of the crowd.

    "I''m sorry, what?" Larson egged on, with a hand to his ear, "I couldn''t hear you."

    "Altaira!"

    Syra watched as anger leapt from one person to the next, the wave of dissent surging through the farmers and miners, the bakers and the crafters.

    "Altaira is our capital," Larson said with remorse, "but tell me. How many times have they come to your aid? When that mine collapsed, how long did you wait for soldiers to dig your men out? When the town flooded from the rain and snow, what help did they send for the injured or your broken homes? How many of you are still missing your children? Even as I stand here mocking them, there are no guards to stop me."

    Larson took the necklace from his neck and held it out above the people, the morning light glinting on the small coin.

    "A small, humble coin, for the small, humble man. Alone, it doesn''t amount to shit," he said, gaining a few laughs, "but melt those down together,"��he pulled out his sword which shone a bright bronze��"and you have yourself a weapon."

    Clapping sparked from within the crowd, and soon it grew into applause.

    "Altaira knows we''re here," Larson said when the clapping died down, "that the Black Thorn is a threat and only growing stronger. So, they''re sending their guard dogs to cut off our trades routes and supplies. But that will not stop us, will it?"

    "No!" yelled the crowd.

    "It only proves how corrupt they are! They don''t care about us! They only care to line their own pockets and sit in the plush beds that we make, filling their plump bellies with food that we grow! I say it''s time to change things."

    The crowd seethed. Their whoops and hollers filled the square, drunk on rage and the promise of easier lives unhindered by wealth or status. All the while, Larson and his men smiled, their mission completed.

    Through the throng, Syra watched one of the men whisper to Larson, prompting him to look dead at her. Aidan saw it, too, and he pulled at her arm, his eyes locked onto Larson.

    "We need to leave, now."

    ***

    The town was too enamored by the show to even notice the party leaving out the south gate. For this, Syra thanked the stars.

    The trail was small and a slight overgrown from little use, and hugged the river running parallel to the mountains. It was an easy ride for their mero and they had traveled some miles before they heard the neighing of horses. From behind them, heavy hoofbeats approached at a worrisome pace.

    "You think they followed us?" Cassius asked, turning to scout the trail behind them. He flinched away, nearly toppling off his ride, as an arrow whizzed past his face. "I''ll take that as a yes."

    "I knew you''d turn up sooner or later!" Larson called from his horse as he and his band of men galloped towards them. "How does it feel, having the deaths of three people on your hands?"

    "You tell us!" Petra snarled back, digging her heels into her mero''s side and leading the party at a faster pace.

    As the trail crested a hill, the river fell away into a ravine and the mero''s hooves drew getting nervously close to the edge. The stretching of a bow string made Syra flinch just an arrow whistled past her, digging into Cassius'' mero''s flank. It screamed and stumbled. Its legs buckled and they tumbled sideways into Petra. The rocks underhoof gave way and the two mero toppled over the edge of the ravine, taking the twins with them.

    Syra screamed, and Larson laughed, "Two down!"

    Syra snapped her reins and the stag bounded off on agile hooves.

    "Petra! Cassius!" she called, keeping her eyes on the pair of heads bobbing in the swift current. They rose and sank with flailing arms and her chest tightened.

    Shit, they don''t know how to swim yet.

    The archer readied her bow again and Larson let her pull ahead.

    "Don''t miss this time!"

    "Oh, I won''t."

    Syra felt the line of mana lock-on to her back before her eyes caught the shimmer of runes tattooed across the archer''s knuckles, and the glowing arrowhead.

    Shit.

    The arrow exploded on impact with her barrier and sent both her and Aidan airborne. She hit and skidded against the dirt, tumbling over to see both mero skittering off into the forest.

    "Are you alright?" Aidan asked from beside her, a gash beginning to leak on his forehead.

    "Yeah, I''m fine," She was scratched up and had landed on her elbow too hard, but she could still run.

    "Don''t even try it," Larson said, as he and his men surrounded them.

    "Finish it," he commanded the archer, who loaded another arrow.

    Syra saw Cassius and Petra being dragged away below her and she curled her fingers into claws, charging her hand.

    The archer charged the arrow, "Not this ti��"

    But Syra swung quicker. She clawed at the air and sent a blast of hot wind arching into them, sending up a veil of dirt and dust.

    "Hang on," she said, grabbing Aidan and leaping off the edge of the ravine. Gold shimmered around them as they hit the water.

    Their heads popped to the surface, spitting and coughing.

    "Cas! Petra!" they called, treading water to keep their legs away from the hungry rocks below.

    "There!" Aidan pointed to a low-hanging limb where Cassius had latched himself.

    Aidan managed to grab a floating log and pulled Syra over to it. They scrambled on top and Syra dug both hands into the water.

    "Hold on!" With glowing hands like paddles, Syra pulled the water back around them, propelling them forward. She spun the log sideways to lodge it between a boulder and the bank, allowing Cassius as foothold.

    "Where''s Petra?" Syra asked.

    "Over there!" Cassius pointed to the red locks washing over the stones as Petra''s mouth gaped barely above water.

    "She''s stuck!" Syra stripped off her cloak and shoved it at Aidan before wading back out into the current. With one hand gripping the cloak, she dove under the rapids, feeling for Petra''s foot among the rocks.

    Where is it?

    She ran her hand over the river bottom, but found nothing. Squinting against the rushing water, she could see Petra''s foot lodged under a rock just a few more inches away. She reached and the rock shimmered. With a tug, she yanked the rock away and Petra shot to the surface, coughing and wheezing. Syra grabbed hold of her arm and tugged on the cloak for Aidan to pull them out of the current.

    Syra caught her breath and Cassius and Aidan heaved Petra up onto the bank.

    "Are you okay?" Aidan asked Petra, watching her choke up water between gasps.

    "I cannot wait until I get my body back. You humans really do suck at this surviving thing."

    "Yep, she''s fine," said Cassius.

    "Were we followed?" Aidan asked Syra.

    Syra sharpened her focus from her perch atop the bank, "Not that I can see. But you should ask, just in case."

    "On it." Aidan crouched against the embankment and gripped at the exposed tree roots. "You check over Petra."

    Cassius joined Syra in examining Petra, but he couldn''t help but stare at Aidan''s trance-like focus.

    "What''s he doing?" he whispered. "Is he...praying?"

    Syra glanced from Petra''s bruising foot to the pensive man kneeling among mud and roots, "In a way, I suppose. He''s scouting--asking the trees to see what they see. Can''t see very far, but it should tell us if there''s anyone approaching."

    "He...talks to trees?" Petra asked.

    "When necessary. He won''t admit it, but he''s actually a decent green witch��takes after his mother. Even the clovercrown I gave him years ago is still green on his headboard." A sad grin flickered as she watched his eyes search under their lids. "At least it was when I left."

    Moments later, Aidan''s eyes flashed open and he wobbled back to his feet.

    Syra tensed, "Anything?"

    He held up a calming hand and shook his head, "No, we''re clear. They probably assumed the rapids would take care of us."

    "Let''s hope so."

    "Still, we should get going. We just lost most of our supplies and our rides, we can''t stand to get caught again." He turned to Petra, "Can you walk?"

    "I''m fine. Just soaked is all." Petra shoved herself to her feet, giving her ankle a good stretch before walking away. "Let''s just find our bags so I can eat and warm up."

    They made their way along the rocky river bank, hoping for a scalable slope to take them back up to the trail. But the sides remained steep and the rushing water echoed off their flat faces in mockery. It was a stroke of luck that one of the mero had found sanctuary on a pebbled shoreline. One of its saddlebag managed to survive the trip downriver, and the mero munched away at a bush outside a small cave eroded into the bank.

    "We should rest here for the night," Aidan said, tossing his bag into the cave.

    "It''s still daylight," said Petra. "We can keep going."

    "We''re also still wet with half our supplies. We need to make camp and dry off before night comes." Aidan shot her a raised eyebrow, "Unless you''re fond of freezing to death."

    Now that the sun was hidden by the ravine walls, Petra couldn''t deny that the chill made her hair stand on end.

    "Fine," she said, clambering up the rocks into the dirt hole.

    Syra followed after her, but as she pulled herself up she felt her head swim and her grip falter.

    "Woah, now," Aidan said, catching her before the ground did, "You alright?"

    Aidan helped her up, but she still staggered, "Yeah, just a bit...lightheaded, for some reason."

    "You probably used too much mana."

    "Maybe," Syra said, not that convinced. She knew what mana deprivation felt like, and this wasn''t it.

    "You think she picked up something from Omei?" asked Cassius.

    "I sure hope not," Aidan said, beginning to worry. The last thing they needed was to come down with some exotic flu. "You should rest, just in case," he said, sitting her down inside the cave.

    "Petra, you watch her," Cassius said from the shore.

    Petra bolted upright like he threw fresh embers at her, "Why me?!"

    "Aidan and I will go get some wood and fish, so someone needs to be here with her."

    "Ugh!" Her groan echoed off the stone walls. "You''re mean."

    "Now, is that any way for a Vayguard to act?" Cassius mocked.

    Petra crossed her arms with a huff, resigning herself to her side of the cave, "Fine. Go. But you better bring back a fat one!"

    Hours passed without their return, and Syra only seemed to grow sicker. Her skin paled and she nodded off and on.

    "You think it''s an infection? Like in Omei?" Petra asked when Syra jolted awake again.

    "I don''t know. I don''t think so. I don''t feel feverish. I just feel tired and...tight, and...kind of itchy," she said, wriggling on the ground.

    "Well, I hope it goes away soon. We have a lot of ground to cover."

    "Yeah, me too."

    A long pause passed between the sisters, each trying to occupy their own minds but neither comfortable with the silence. It had been years since they were alone together, and even then it only led to Syra having a face full of flames.

    "Why do you still pine over him?" Petra finally spoke, ignoring any subtly. "Has he not made it clear he isn''t interested?"

    "It''s not like that," Syra said just above a whisper.

    "Sure looks like it. He seemed pretty fond of that Talian mage."

    "I noticed."

    "Then why keep hoping he''ll change his mind? It''s driving Cassius crazy."

    "And what about Tarys, hm? Did you give up on him, too?" Syra scowled over at her through narrowed lids. "Just because he didn''t notice you after a month of your silent stalking?"

    Petra pulled her arms tighter around herself and shut her mouth.

    "At least I told him how I feel, and don''t cower away because he might say no," Syra said.

    "But he did say no. Yet you cling onto this daydream that all will be magically forgiven."

    "Because I have to," Syra snapped. She took a deep breath and stared up at the tiny roots weaving through the dirt ceiling, "If I don''t keep the embers going, then it will certainly die."

    "Well, maybe it should. It''s not like you can stay with him when this over."

    "You don''t know that. There are ways...there has to be."

    "You''re a na?ve and sheltered fool, Syra," Petra huffed.

    "And you''re a bitter cynic who''s scared of her feelings."

    Jade clashed with gold as they leered, unfaltering, into each other.

    "I might be a fool," said Syra, "but at least I''m trying to make things work."

    Petra scoffed, "Trying just gets you killed."

    Silence fell between them as the patter of rain grew louder outside.

    "Mother tried," Petra said, her voice distant, "and look where that got her."

    "Mother was a fighter! That''s what trying means: to fight. You can''t succeed without trying first. That''s why I can''t give up: if she didn''t, neither can I."

    "Ha! You say that, but you barely knew her."

    "I knew her better than you."

    Guilt sliced at Syra''s throat and she clamped her mouth shut.

    "I-I''m sorry. That...that was out of li��"

    "You''re right." The rigidness left Petra''s face and her gaze wavered. "I can barely remember her face...or her scent. Sometimes I think I catch a whiff of it from Father''s den, but even then I can''t place the memory. It''s like, having known them makes their absence harder��you know someone''s supposed to be there, but they''re not. And that hole just doesn''t go away."

    Syra looked over Petra through heavy lids. She knew that hole all too well. She had thrown so much at it��books, food, late-night lessons and sleepovers. But even surrounded by loyal comrades that coldness still pricked her gut when her mind wandered. The best she could manage was to just keep it locked up in the box with everything else. At least until she could face it in her mirror alone. But now, it was her sister who wore that expression.

    "I''m not like Cassius," she said softly, "I''ll never be able to feel your pain, or take it away. But, I know mine hurts like hell, and I''d never want you to feel that way." She scoffed, "Probably should have told you that sooner, huh?"

    Petra stared in a bit of shock as Syra bobbed in and out of consciousness.

    "Sorry, your sister''s just little broken," she chuckled at herself before passing back out.

 |Chapter 18| Cabin in the Woods

    <hr>

    The company woke to find Syra still unconscious, even after the passing of freshly seared meat.

    "Come on, it''s time to go," Aidan said, prodding her shoulder.

    Still, she did not move.

    "Hey! Get up," Petra poked her face, making her head wobble. Her skin was warm, but she still did not rouse. "I don''t like this," Petra furrowed her brow. "You better not be playing with us!" She smushed Syra''s face between her palms and wiggled her head side to side, then stopped abruptly.

    "What is it?" Cassius asked.

    She pushed Syra''s head to one side, revealing red marks. All along her jaw, neck, and chest were bright red scratch marks.

    "They''re on her arms, too," Cassius said, pushing up her sleeve.

    "She did say she felt itchy."

    "When?" asked Aidan, leaving the mero to examine the scabbing lines.

    "Yesterday, while you were gone. She said she felt tight and itchy, but I thought it was just from getting sand in the wrong places."

    "It couldn''t be a human sickness, could it?" Cassius asked Aidan. "Some kind of rash? Perhaps she walked through a bad stretch of grass?"

    A dragon''s constitution was normally quite robust, but given their travels and Syra''s prolonged exposure to people, it wasn''t a farfetched theory.

    "I don''t think so," said Aidan, "rashes like that don''t knock a person unconscious. But, I''m no medic."

    "Well, we can''t just leave her here."

    Aidan nodded, "We''ll have to carry her with us. Hopefully she''ll come out of it on her own."

    Aidan and Cassius picked her up and laid her atop the mero.

    "And what if she doesn''t?" Petra asked, the concern in her voice coming as a surprise to both boys.

    Aidan let his hand linger on Syra''s face a moment longer, biting his cheek at the thick scabs that weren''t healing, "She has to. We''ll just have to find someone who can help. Until then, we keep moving."

    ***

    They walked and waded along the river until it widened and its banks leveled out into thick forest. Upon reaching a deep pool in its course, the rhythmic sound of clunking wood called their attention to a small cabin with a waterwheel gently spinning in the current.

    "What''s that?" asked Petra, head bobbing as she watched the wheel turn.

    "A mill," said Aidan as he climbed up the bank, "Come on, there should be someone inside."

    The small cabin was simple but sturdy. Some steps were worn while others newly replaced. As they waited for their knocks to be answered, Aidan noticed a raft propped against the side of the house. He went to dip away for a closer peek when the door was opened by man with full beard that smelled of firewood. The middle-aged gentleman merely poked his head out from the door, caring not for the sudden company.

    "Yes, what is it?" he said, a tad gruff but not rude.

    "Please, excuse the interruption, sir," Aidan said, "but we''ve been traveling quite a ways, and were hoping you could spare some cover for the night?"

    "You really think I''m about to open my home to some strangers?" the man said with a laugh.

    "Please, sir," Cassius piped up, "my sister is sick, and we''ve been traveling all day."

    The man looked over the tired ensemble, their pant legs soaked and their boots squishing up mud.

    "It would be greatly appreciated," Aidan tried again, "Even the mill house or a shed would be better than being left in the open." Aidan paused, glancing around the stretches of woodland all around them, "You''re also the only person around who could help."

    Sympathy at the sight of the unconscious girl made his stone face falter, but he eyed their weapons with a tightened jaw.

    "You can hold our weapons until we leave," Cassius said, picking up on his unease, "we truly don''t want any trouble."

    "Alright," the man said with a hesitant sigh, "but I want something in return."

    Cassius looked to Aidan who shook his head, "I''m afraid we don''t have much money to give you. We lost most of our supplies in the river."

    "Hmph," said the man, displeased but understanding, "then fetch me one of those." He pointed to the large rabbit carcass strung from Cassius'' pack, "A fat one."

    "Deal," Aidan said, turning to Cassius and Petra. "Cassius and I will go hunt, while you��"

    "Oh, no!" Petra hissed, "Not this time. This time, you''re staying with pock-face, while we hunt."

    The man introduced himself as Lawrence, and stored Aidan and Syra''s swords in a back room while the twins left for the forest.

    "You can set her down over here," Lawrence said, folding over some blankets by the wood stove. "Any idea what did this to her?"

    Aidan shook his head and laid Syra down, "We''re hoping to find an apothecary when we reach Morai. But I''m worried the trip might be too hard on her."

    "Hm," Lawrence nodded, "that is quite a ways. And all you have is that one mero?"

    "Yes. We had more, but they were lost to the rapids farther upstream."

    "That''s unfortunate. I''d like to offer a horse, but as I only have one..."

    "I understand," Aidan said, throwing his cloak over Syra, "it''s gracious enough of you to let us stay."

    "I was an adventurer too, once," Lawrence said, inviting Aidan for a seat on the couch, "and I couldn''t just turn away a sick lass."

    Aidan sat��making sure to keep his wet legs off the cushion��and Lawrence went to the kettle nestled atop the stove.

    "Here," he said, handing Aidan a mug of tea. "It''s a tad weak, I apologize. Don''t get much opportunity to splurge on fancier things."

    "No, it''s fine, thank you." Aidan was grateful for the hot beverage and the chance to rest away from the wind and rain.

    "That''s a nice raft you have outside," Aidan said after finishing his drink. "How does it ride?"

    "Wouldn''t know," said Lawrence, looking down into his own stained cup.

    "Is it not yours?"

    "It used to belong to my son."

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Aidan paused, "Used to?"

    Lawrence''s thumb picked at the cup''s tarnish, "He moved to Altaira some years ago��wanted to be a guard. Don''t know why. Erd knows that boy could barely chop wood. But he had it stuck in his head that he would make Soldier and bring me to live with him in the big capital." He chuckled, his throat straining a bit, "There was no way to know that his Knighting Day would be celebrated with dragonfire. It was weeks before I got the news that my son had burned to death protecting a city that couldn''t protect him."

    Aidan gripped tight at his mug. Images flooded his head. Images of burning buildings, people crushed under the debris, and dark shadows circling over the city in a sky lit by flames. He fought to push them away and his words caught behind his tongue.

    "I''m sorry," Aidan choked out. He met Lawrence''s watery gaze with his own, "I lost my brother that night, too." He stared at the floor then to the sleeping Syra, "And she lost her father. But life goes on, almost like it never happened. Like we could just turn around and they should still be there. It really is amazing how humans can still survive with them around."

    "Could always be worse," Lawrence said, blinking the memories away. "I have family across the sea, and many towns live in constant watch for them. Some have been completely desolated."

    "Exactly," Aidan gave a solemn nod, remembering their deployment west. "Even with their more advanced weaponry, compromise was nearly impossible."

    "It''s no real wonder why people leave to come here. Our dragons at least keep to themselves, most of the time."

    Aidan chewed his cheek, "How can you be calm about it? They killed your son. How can you forgive them so easily?"

    "Oh, it''s far from easy. I live with his absence every day, just like you with your brother." He grimaced, "It ate me alive for a long, long time. Why else would someone choose to live by Shit Creek in the middle of nowhere? I couldn''t stand to see everyone else move on while his bed remained empty. I hated everyone. Humans and dragons alike."

    "What changed?"

    "Well...I guess I realized my son wouldn''t want me to be that way��bitter and on my face more than my feet."

    Aidan had thought it odd that he had yet to see anything resembling ale or wine.

    "He loved dragons, you know? Found them fascinating. That''s why he chose Altaira in the first place: hoped to meet one, one day. Bit ironic, ain''t it?"

    "Just a bit."

    "Anyways, that''s why I can''t keep on hating them. Sam would never let me live it down."

    Aidan rested his head back against the sofa and stared at the knots in the wooden ceiling. He, too, had loved dragons once upon a time. And even back then, Syra was his favorite. With those large eyes despite her small face, and dainty scales that shone like freshly minted coins. How she approached him with intense curiosity instead of fear, and then flitted off again. He had forgotten that in his grief.

    "Thank you, Lawrence," Aidan said, raising his mug to him, "I hope I can tell the same story someday."

    ***

    That night, after they had eaten and Lawrence went off to bed, the company settled in by the fire to read and keep watch over Syra. Petra seethed from her spot on the sofa, so much so that Aidan feared it might alight.

    "You alright?" he asked, taking the risk of her biting his head off again. But this time, her anger was not directed towards him.

    "Can you believe those people?" she asked, staring off over the river beyond the window. "Larson just opened his mouth and those idiots in the square bought right into it."

    "Of course, they did," said Aidan. "He just told them what they wanted to hear."

    "What? That dragons are just savage beasts that should be blamed for everything?"

    "That their suffering is real, and they''re not alone. That there are actually people listening to them. Fighting for them." His tone took a somber dip. "I thought we had this handled. We made a specific department just for dealing with complaints like theirs. But, it looks like it''s not working as well as we thought. Or were led to believe. Given that, I can see how they fell for it. A promise like theirs...it gives them hope. Something, I''m sure, they haven''t felt in a long time."

    "False hope," she spat with a snarl, "Hope in people who manipulate others to get their way, then murder them if they don''t agree"

    "Yes, but they don''t know that. Not yet. Remember what Tilly said? They''re all just tired, and want things to get better. You can''t really blame them for wanting change."

    "They think we''re beasts, Aidan. Just dumb animals that are better off chained or mounted to a wall. But we at least listen to each other before going to war."

    "Not all of them are like that."

    "It''s enough to build an army. Those people," she pointed out the window, "they know nothing about us, or Altaira��hell, they don''t even want to! Yet they march on, crying for our heads because some graga��who''s not even Montari��painted us as beasts to be slaughtered."

    "Then why don''t you do something about it? You''re the leader, right? We all know what one dragon can do to a city. And I''ve seen a kingdom war-torn from just one clan."

    "Because we''re better than that!" she hissed before lowering her voice after Cassius shushed her from Syra''s side.

    "We could retaliate," she continued. "Without a treaty, we could burn you all easily and take your land. It ceratinly would help our food stores. And while I would love to watch those idiots burn to ash, we''d be just as bad as them. Worse, even, because we''d be proving them right. It would accomplish nothing and only invite more rage. And more arrows."

    She sighed and fell back into the sofa, angry at people''s misplaced anger and weary from being angry herself.

    "So, we just sit there, watching you build your walls and machines, knowing that no amount of niceties or reason will convince you otherwise. And we will sit there, waiting, until your people decide to take one step too far. And then," she stared dead at Aidan, her eyes bright gold even in the shadow, "we will raze you. So you better make damn sure that when you''re king, you''re on the right side."

    Aidan''s chest tightened and his jaw clenched under her sharp gaze. A predatory gaze. The room echoed of the rain and firewood in his hesitation, and Petra fought back a smirk.

    "This is why humans hate you, you know," said Aidan finally. He maintained eye contact but his body leaked fearscent.

    "Why? Because we''re scary monsters?"

    "Because you present yourselves as such, yes," Aidan corrected. "You''re large and very powerful creatures compared to us, even without your fire. And we''ve seen the damage you can do. We made our weapons out of necessity��we had to protect ourselves somehow. Or else we might as well be��"

    "Prey?"

    The glint in her eye was amused and rather condensending.

    "How else do you expect us to feel, Petra?" He snapped and straightened himself, "You can''t blame a cornered dog for baring its teeth, and yet you mock us for trying to level the field."

    "Are you scared?" Petra asked flatly.

    He faultered and steadied his shaking knee.

    "Yes," he admitted, against his political training. "Yes, I''m fucking terrified."

    This time, Petra watched him in genuine surprise.

    "How can I not be?" he asked, waving an exasperated hand. "To know that my family and people could be snuffed out on a whim? I mean, isn''t that why you''re here��to protect your family from Marrak? Another dragon?"

    To Aidan''s surprise, she did not retort. She merely looked out the window to the squall outside.

    "Look," said Aidan after some silence, "I am sorry for assuming the worst about you and Cassius. So...thank you for working with me this whole time, despite all the bullshit I said."

    "It''s not like we really had much choice."

    "There''s always a choice," he said with a slight grin.

    "Don''t you dare go quoting her," Petra half-glared. "One of her is enough, and I still haven''t forgiven you for hurting her."

    Aidan''s grin warmed and Petra softened, if only around the edges.

    "Understood," Aidan relaxed into the sofa. "If there''s any hope of regaining a treaty, we''re going to have to work together."

    Petra laughed loud enough for Cassius to hiss at her, "Really? You expect a treaty after all your ''bullshit''?"

    Aidan shrugged and cocked his head with a smirk, "A truce, then?"

    "Don''t get smug," Petra narrowed her eyes and vacated the sofa. "And change the name of that damn sword. It''s disgusting."

    ***

    The next morning came and Syra still hadn''t risen. To everyone''s dismay, more marks had appeared overnight. They covered her face and her belly, and this time they bled.

    "We have to get to Morai soon," Cassius said, his stomach in knots.

    "I know, but we can only walk so fast." Aidan held a hand to her forehead and was relieved to find her still warm, but not with fever.

    "Come with me," Lawrence called for them to follow him outside.

    "How ''bout a trade?" he asked Aidan when they stood next to the raft. "I won''t be using it, and I could use that mero on my trips to town."

    "Oh, no. I''m not putting one more toe in that river," Petra said, stepping away from the wooden dingy.

    Cassius ignored her and leaned over to Aidan, "It would certainly be faster than trekking through brush. I say we take it."

    Aidan hesitated, "But it was Sam''s."

    Lawrence gave a bittersweet smile before grabbing him hard on the shoulder, "He wouldn''t have thought twice about it."

    Aidan gripped his hand tight, "Then we''ll thank him for it."

    "You''re joking, right?" Petra asked, eyes darting between them, "We''re not really going back on those rapids?"

    "Grab your stuff, missy!" Lawrence boomed with a grin, "Time to set sail."

    "I am going to die," Petra hushed to herself and turned on a heel, leaving the men to laugh as she sulked back into the house.

    ***

    As the river widened, the rapids slowed into gentle shoals and they coasted at a fair knot. Still, Petra insisted on sitting in the dead center far away from the greedy waves.

    "You''re not going to be afraid of water forever, are you?" Cassius teased. "How are you supposed to help me fish when we get back home?"

    "Swimming in a lake is different," she spat. "It doesn''t move."

    Cassius sighed, "Can''t swim. Can''t fly��at least, not that well. You really have no room to tease Syra, you know."

    "Shut it, Cas. I don''t need to swim or fly to take on Marrak."

    "Those rocks beg to differ. If Syra hadn''t pulled you out, your part in this journey would''ve been over."

    "I still say she''s a liabilty. Even after all these years, she still can''t b��"

    "Hush!" Aidan held up a hand for quiet.

    Rustling came from the trees and grew louder as they drifted onwards.

    "See anything?" asked Aidan, scanning the foliage.

    "Nothing," said Cassius. "Can''t smell anything, either."

    "We must be upwind."

    Aidan crouched down, ready to spring at the first sight of danger. Then his eyes caught it. A flash of color in the sunlight.

    "There!" he whispered, pointing into thick branches that stretched over the river.

    But by that time, they were the ones seen first.

 |Chapter 19| Mountains of Morai

    <hr>

    "We mean no harm!" Aidan called from the raft as they drifted towards the bow of branches.

    Perched atop them, a patrol of Kiithran glared down at the human intruders. They huffed and scratched at the bark. Their heads lowered and their feathered manes bristled out and shook like cocks ready to fight.

    "This is Kiithran territory, human!" called the largest one, his stone-studded headdress marking him as the patrol''s leader. He stepped out from the foliage with his head bent low, showing off his long horns framed by the disk of black-and-gold feathers around his head, "State your business, then leave."

    "Please," said Cassius, raising his hands, "our friend is sick and needs to be looked at."

    "Then take them to a human healer. We do not tend to your kind."

    Cassius passed a narrowed eye to Aidan, "He''s serious."

    "We were just on our way to Morai to see D��rgah when she fell ill," Aidan replied. "He should be expecting us."

    "D��rgah?" The patrol members whispered amongst themselves at the mention of their chief''s name.

    "Who sent you?" asked the leader, pawing at the bark.

    "A man named Valen."

    "We do not know this Valen," The leader raised his long, feathered tail to signal an attack.

    "Wait," said the kria beside him, lowering his tail with hers, "D��rgah did say he was expecting visitors. These could be them."

    "How can you know for sure?" He leered down at her from the corner of his eye, refusing to drop his guard.

    "Show us your hands!" she called down as they passed under the branches.

    Aidan scrambled to lift up Syra''s hand to show them the silver band about her finger, "We''re with the Kesh Raza!"

    "See?" The kria said with a smirk.

    "Very well," The leader huffed a groan and turned to his patrol, "Tahneth, Drakar, you''re with me."

    He led his group over the river and down onto the bank.

    "Come!" the kria called and pawed at the ground for them to paddle ashore, "we''ll take you there."

    The patrol helped them pull the raft from the water. Their thick, scaly fingers were surprisingly nimble and Aidan forced himself not to stare too long. He had read about and seen Kiithran from afar during his trips to the Dairos skybridges, but these winged elk were much larger up close. Even the female kria had dense muscle tucked away under her downy overcoat.

    "I''m Razira," the kria said once they were on steady ground, "and that''s my brother, Namir." She seemed friendly enough��young and eager, with her colorful chest feathers puffed up.

    "It''s a pleasure," Aidan said, dipping his head towards Namir. But Namir simply huffed and twitched one of his four ears.

    "D��rgah''s our father," Razira said, ignoring her brother''s sour attitude, "so we''ll be escorting you to him."

    "Escorting?" Aidan paused, not liking the image that popped into his head.

    "Of course," Razira ruffled the wings that laid snug against her back and Aidan paled. "How else did you expect to get to floating mountains?"

    Razira insisted on carrying Syra as they followed Namir down a narrow trail, while Drakar and Tahneth guarded the others.

    "I''ll let you know up front," Namir said from the head of the pack, "I''m not too keen on bringing humans back to Morai, let alone being ridden. So, if you try anything, I will not hesitate to drop you. Understood?"

    Aidan gave him a calm nod, but his knuckles were turning white under his cloak.

    ***

    "Sorry for the scare earlier," Razira said as they trekked through forest, "Namir trains his anukaal to be fearless, but he can be blind sometimes."

    "I heard that," Namir called from the front.

    "Well, at least your hearing works."

    Namir snorted, "Then you try leading next time."

    "If you can convince Pacha to allow it, I''ll certainly take the offer."

    "Who''s Pacha?" asked Aidan.

    "Papa," she clarified, "he insists on patrols being led by rahgs, not kria. Well, the elders insist on it. He just goes along with it so to not cause an upset. Ironic, considering that the Dahmia were originally female."

    Petra scoffed, "That''s a stupid waste. If they can fight, let them fight."

    "And it''s not even like we train for hard battles��self-defense, maybe. But most of us are just scouts or guards. That''s why, when the time comes for me to ascend, I will become the first kria Gahirem."

    Razira''s jade eyes shown bright and clear, and Petra stared in near-admiration.

    "Good luck convincing the elders of that," said Tahneth. "They''ll ground you just for mentioning it."

    Razira kept her head up, but Petra could see her confidence waver.

    "They''re really that strict?" asked Cassius, also picking up on her budding anxiety.

    "Yes, they are. They''re very wise and loving��most of the time��but they also love their traditions and will gang up on anyone who questions them. Many Kiithran were left stranded on the ground for merely asking if they could start selling headdresses to other races."

    "What''s wrong with that?" Aidan asked. "It would give you more to trade."

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    "It''s just ''not what we do''," Razira mocked. "Plus, some see headdresses as sacred. To see them on the wrong person would be infuriating to them."

    "And you''re just going to let this continue?" Petra asked.

    "As Gahirem, I could suggest the change. Even as Lahirem, if my mate agreed. But the council is made up mostly of elders, and they''d dismiss me as mad, or treasonous, if they didn''t banish me all together."

    "Sounds like they got their heads shoved too deep in their own dung pit."

    Petra was rough and blunt, but it was exactly what Razira needed. She laughed so hard she snorted, catching her patrol off-guard.

    "That sounds just about right, actually."

    "Then it''s about time someone pulled them out," Aidan said, giving her a warm grin. "Just make sure you have enough support before you challenge them. I''ve seen similar dealings go way wrong without it."

    "Thank you," Razira said, giving them a tap with her tail before following the patrol into a break in the trees.

    "Wait. Are we there already?" Cassius asked from the back.

    "Almost," said Razira, trotting through the branches and into the light.

    Breaking from the shade of the forest, they found themselves standing on a stone precipice that stretched out over hills that rolled away from the mountain range. To the southwest, massive shadows floated in mist above the horizon.

    "That''s Morai," Razira said with pride.

    Stepping out onto the ledge, strong winds whipped their cloaks, hair, and feathers, and the Kiithran stretched and pumped their wings.

    "Ready?" Namir asked Aidan when he was situated astride his back. He could feel the boy''s hands shaking in his mane.

    "No."

    "Too bad," Namir sprung and sprinted across the ledge, spreading his wings.

    Seeing the land fall away from him, Aidan forewent holding Namir by the mane and flung his arms around his sturdy neck. This earned him a deep chuckle from the stag who seemed too delighted in his panic. The ledge disappeared under Namir and wind struck them from below. Aidan felt Namir''s muscles bunch and release as his wings pumped against the air, driving them upward. His eyes leaked from the wind, but he could see Cassius and Petra following close behind, with Razira pulling up the rear, Syra clutched tight in her scaly talons.

    ***

    Aidan thanked the heavens that the weather was kind with little turbulence. After the first half hour of having his face shoved into Namir''s mane, he began to calm down and enjoy the scenery, one glance at a time. His view from the castle tower was certainly beautiful, but to see the land spread away like a green sea was something he doubted any human had been privileged to witness.

    Forests gave way to farmland that patched between spires of rock that studded the land like miniature mountains. Morai''s largest island now loomed miles both below and overhead, where its mountains, rivers, and entire forests all hovered over the great lake below.

    "Nearly there, now," Namir said through the wind.

    But Aidan''s relief and excitement for firm ground came too early. As they glided nearer to the rocky cliffs, updrafts surged around their perimeter, blasting them from below. Aidan screamed and clung on, almost choking Namir��a sight he knew Petra was recording in her memory for later.

    "Easy, now. It''s right in front of us," Namir said, holding his wings out steady and letting the draft carry them up to a landing platform.

    "See? Wasn''t that bad, now was it?" Razira said as they trotted to a landing.

    His reply came out as incomprehensible garble through thin, blue lips. His hands still shook and Namir swore he had bruises on his sides from where Aidan''s legs held their death grip. The twins burst out laughing. Being creatures of flight themselves, they had found the ride quite pleasant and enjoyable.

    "I can''t wait to tell Syra about this," Petra snickered, climbing down from Drakar.

    "Speaking of your friend," Razira said, lying Syra on the ground, "didn''t you say you were looking for a healer?"

    "Yes, please," Cassius said, "Do you have one? She has this rash that we know nothing about, and she hasn''t woken for days."

    He showed her the red marks littered across Syra''s skin. Razira looked to Namir who twitched an ear for her to go.

    "This way, then."

    With Syra laid atop her back, Razira led them through dense woodland paths until they reached a clearing pocked with squatting huts of leaves, logs, and stone. From a distance, they appeared primitive��albeit colorful. But as the party entered the sprawling village, the intricate weavings and carvings spoke of a culture not so different from the reptilian mountain-dwellers.

    The huts were of one story, but wide��large enough to fit a large family comfortably. And each was decorated to the owners'' liking. Some were painted, some grew flowerbeds on the roof, but most sported feathers and sparkling stones to some degree. It was the carvings that grabbed the twins'' attention. Cut into the wooden framing were scenes of family members and their accomplishments, similar to the carvings that lined their lair walls.

    "Those are nohaaki," Razira told them as she led them through the hut-lined streets, their occupants astir with confused looks and whispers.

    "Nohaaki?" Petra repeated, surprised by the striking similarity to her own language.

    "Yes, Memories of Record. You''ll see them everywhere. At mine, even the walls are covered. There''s only one place you won''t see them."

    "Oh? And where''s that?" asked Aidan.

    "Moremi''s den."

    Further down the hill and cuddled back into a stand of large-leafed trees, a single hut sat bare and smelling of a strong mix of herbs. It was on the larger side, with several windows spaced along its sides. Colored glass and stones hung outside from their eaves and distracted Petra from the old kria that answered Razira''s knocks on the door.

    "Well, this is a surprise," she said, her ears erect and eyes bright despite her age. "Here I was expecting human trinkets, and you bring me actual humans."

    "Sorry for the late notice, Moremi" said Razira, "We just arrived and one of the visitors needs your attention."

    "Oh, it''s quite alright. Don''t mind at all," the mare huffed Razira''s meekness away. "I''d be more concerned about your father''s reaction. Does he know they''re here?"

    "Not yet," Razira admitted. "Figured I''d go fetch him once they were settled."

    "Go and hurry off, then. They''ll be fine with me." Curiosity bubbled from her eyes as she looked the party over, "I''m interested to hear their stories of the Lower Lands, anyway."

    Razira left them to be escorted into the hut, where Moremi instructed them to lay Syra on the woven blanket by the first window.

    "You''re lucky," she said, squatting by Syra''s side and unclasping her cloak with agile claws, "my last patient left this morning, so you have the whole hut to yourself."

    "Where''s everyone else?" asked Petra, glancing about the open room filled with mats and hanging cloth dividers.

    "Everyone else?"

    "You''re family? All the huts we passed seemed to be occupied, so I just assumed..."

    "Oh, no, young one," she said with a faint grin curling up her long face, "it''s just me, here. As healer, the Aerie is my family��I take no mate, lest I show favoritism."

    "Sounds kind of lonely," said Cassius.

    "Eh," Moremi grunted, "to be honest, I get enough earfuls just tending to the sick. I''d imagine living with them constantly would grow old quick. No, ol'' Moremi here is quite content with the quiet��when I can get it, of course."

    "Now, how long did you say this one''s been sick?" Moremi ran her thick, scaled fingers down Syra''s neck and arms, examining the scratch marks.

    "About two days, or so," Aidan said, taking a seat on the dirt floor opposite Moremi.

    "Hm," she ran a thumbpad across the more faded markings, "and these? They don''t look two days old."

    Aidan faltered as she pointed to the faint scarring on Syra''s forearms, "Battle wounds. From overseas. She...she burnt herself out saving some of us."

    Moremi turned suddenly grim, "Oh, I see. Well, violence can result in such things. Did she burn out recently, then?"

    "No. She only said she felt tight and itchy, and then just passed out."

    "Hm," Moremi narrowed her eyes, "tight and itchy, you say?" She unfastened Syra''s vest and lifted her shirt for a better look of the long lines raking across her torso. "That would explain the scratching, but not the tightness or the sleeping."

    She lowered her snout to just above Syra''s chest and sniffed, trying to identify any oils left by irritating plants. But her ears shot back and was stunned for a moment.

    "Everything alright?" Aidan asked.

    "Curious..." said Moremi, causing Aidan to lean forward, attempting to see what she saw.

    Aidan jumped when she suddenly lifted Syra''s arm and shoved her snout into her armpit, taking in a long whiff.

    "Um...what are you doing?" he asked with big eyes.

    "You''re not human after all, are you?" Morai asked. The stare from the corner of her eye sent chills up Aidan''s spine.

    "Will that be a problem?" asked Petra, refusing to be intimidated. They came a long way to find this healer, and she was certainly not going to be turned away at the door.

    "That depends." Moremi cast a glance up at Cassius, "Has she mated yet?"

    Cassius'' face flushed as draconic garble fell out, and Petra burst out laughing.

    Aidan''s cheeks also rosied, but he maintained composure, "Yes. But, that''s not where these scratches came from."

    "These scratches?" Cassius leered down at him. "There are oth��"

    "Then tell me," Moremi said, cutting them off and craning her neck towards the twins, "when was the last time she molted?"

 |Chapter 20| Kiirem

    <hr>

    "We don''t have time for this," Petra grumbled as Moremi led them through the misty vegetation of the mountain behind the village.

    "We also don''t have time to sit around explaining to the entire village why there''s a dragon in the middle of town square," Aidan said, helping Cassius to carry Syra up and over boulders. For an elder, Moremi sure made the hike look easy and she pushed the group to keep pace.

    "Nearly there!" she bugled from a ridge some distance up the hill. "I think this spot will do just fine."

    "You think?" mocked Petra, her face red from the climb.

    Aidan heaved Syra over the ledge to Cassius and they all took a rest while Moremi walked through the patch of boulders left by a previous rockslide.

    "Yes, this''ll do!" She raised her tail, calling them over. "Bring her over here."

    They laid Syra at Moremi''s feet and she opened the pouch strung around her neck. Out leapt a small, brown toad that squirmed in Moremi''s scaled hands. It smelled absolutely horrible.

    "Oh, that''s rank," Aidan said, covering his mouth and nose. "What is that thing?"

    "It smells dead," said Cassius, squinting from the fumes that radiated from the squat amphibian.

    "It smells like shit," Petra hissed, huffing air out her nose, trying to keep the stench from taking root.

    "Well, you''re not wrong," Moremi mused. "It is a Dung Toad. Or, graga, as you may know it. And if this doesn''t wake her up, nothing will."

    Moremi shoved the toad right up under Syra''s nose, its sticky toes gripping and sliding at her nostrils.

    "Oh, Lord, I hope this works," Petra prayed. "She''s going to be smelling that for days."

    The toad chirped and nearly hopped away, but Syra''s nose gave a twitch and her face scrunched in disgust until her lids slid open.

    "Good Lord, Petra, what did you eat?" Syra coughed and Moremi tucked the toad back in its pouch with a chuckle.

    "You would know if you''d been awake this whole time," said Petra.

    "This whole time?" Syra asked, sitting up, "Where...where are we?" Nothing around her looked familiar. The river and cave were gone, and instead of a giant goat, a feathered elk now stood over her.

    "Morai," said Cassius, relief brightening his face.

    "Morai? Already? How long was I out?"

    "Nearly three days!" spat Petra. "We had to carry your rump most of the way."

    "To be fair, Razira did most of the carrying," Aidan corrected.

    "Who?"

    "We''ll explain later. Right now, Moremi has a question for you."

    Syra looked up at the teal-and-purple Kiithran sitting beside her.

    "When was the last time you molted, Syra?" she asked with warm bedside manner.

    "Molted?" Syra looked surprised. The thought had never even occurred to her in years. "Nine, ten years ago?" she said, wracking her brain which was still fuzzy from sleep. "Right before you two hit your juvenile stage."

    "So, you''ve been stuck in old hide this whole time?" Petra laughed, "No wonder you felt horrible."

    "It wasn''t like I could just shed it off in the middle of the city."

    "Well, you''re in a safe place, now," said Moremi, turning her muzzle to the grove of stones. "Why don''t you take the time, now, while you can? I''m sure you''ll feel worlds better."

    "Um, sure I guess," Syra stood but hesitated, "The boulders should work, but..." She glanced around at her spectators with fidgeting fingers.

    "Don''t tell me you don''t know how!" Petra snickered.

    "I do!" Syra spat back, "It''s just that...Mother helped me last time. And it''s...just kind of embarrassing with all of you watching."

    Petra stifled a laugh and Cassius bopped her lightly across the head.

    "Then we''ll help you, this time," he said, holding out a hand, "It''s certainly not as embarrassing as us learning how to relieve ourselves."

    Cassius led Syra into the boulder pit where he waiting at the edge. Light came and went, and Moremi stood bedazzled by the creature left behind. But the twins looked on in pity. Instead of shining bronze, her scales were dull, muted, and an ugly brown. Creases and cracks veined down her legs and sides from where her hide begged to shed. Beneath the outer layer, they could already see her new hide trying to burst out.

    "Okay," Syra said, a might uncomfortable from the stares and feeling shrink-wrapped, "now what?"

    "Start scratching," said Cassius, "I''ll help with the smaller bits."

    Syra raked her claws across her chest, arms, sides, and down her tail, and rubbed herself against the rough edges of the boulders. She was surprised at how easily the dry, old skin peeled off. The old scales were still hard and sturdy, but piece by piece her old hide fell away like the shell of a hard-boiled egg. She felt the pressure and tightness lift away as her new skin stretched and filled out. By the end of it, she shone like a freshly mint coin and stood taller and stronger.

    "She''s still tiny!" Petra hooted in laughter, pointing up at her. "I''m still twice your size."

    Syra glared down at her sister and growled, blowing a gust of wind out her snout that nearly toppled her over.

    "I still have another molt to go��I''ll catch up soon enough."

    "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, runt." Petra waved a dismissive hand and walked away back towards the village.

    But before she could hop down the ledge, a long face with arching horns and shimmering headdress popped up from below. They stood there a moment, nose to snout, with confused wide eyes.

    "Beg pardon," it said in a deep, rolling voice, "but, who are you and why are you on my mountain?" It then saw the giant lizard crouching over the two other humans and another Kiithran, with eyes glaring and fangs bared from Petra''s insult, "And why is there a dragon?!"

    In one leap, the stag shot up and over Petra and bounded off to confront the perceived threat.

    "Get behind me!" he commanded, positioning himself between Moremi and Syra and lowering his head��horns at the ready with his russet-and-brown mane flared.

    Syra simply sat there, surprised��and a bit amused��at the display.

    "I take it Razira hasn''t told you yet?" Moremi asked, holding back the chuckle in her throat.

    The stag paused, "Told me what?"

    "Pacha!" Razira''s voice called from below the ledge before she popped up and bounded over to them, nearly out of breath.

    "What is this?" the stag asked, his body stiff, "What haven''t I been told?"

    "I tried to tell you, but you just kept on running," Razira said through pants.

    "I saw a light and had to see what it was. And what I found was this!" He huffed up at Syra.

    "Yes, very good. You found our guests. Just like you would have if you had stopped to listen to me."

    "Guests? What guests?"

    Razira''s lower ear twitched.

    "Pacha, this is Syra," she said, motioning to the dragon who gave a quick, toothy grin. "She''s the one Valen was talking about. You know, the one we agreed to invite to the meeting? The Kesh Raza meeting? Tomorrow?"

    The stag blinked, lifted his head, and sat down, "I am so terribly sorry."

    ***

    "I do hope you will excuse my poor manners earlier," D��rgah said when they had reached the chief''s hut. "We keep strict borders and don''t often have visitors. So, to see you there like rima caught snout-first in the berry basket...well, it was a bit startling."

    "It''s quite alright," Aidan said from his seat at the short, wide table that squatted in the hut''s center room. "I''m sure we looked rather suspicious."

    "I certainly wasn''t expecting a dragon in any case," D��rgah chuckled, his orange eyes glinting over at Syra.

    She had returned to human-form but, with the exception of radiant skin, was little different.

    "I thought Valen told you we were coming," she said, her cheeks a tad warm from embarrassment.

    "He said to expect visitors, but failed to say what kind."

    The chief''s hut was by far the largest on the island, and housed multiple families in its winding halls. As Razira had said, every wall held a painting, carving, or tapestry of the previous inhabitants. The windows were large and Syra could see the entire village from its perch atop the hillside''s upper terrace. Despite the altitude, it was warm. From the window, she watched the mist of clouds roll across the hills, but the layers of large, leathery leaves on the outer walls kept them dry.

    "I hope we''re not imposing too badly," Syra said, looking around the table. She and the others sat on woven mats on the far side of the wooden table. Though they had been invited, she couldn''t ignore the cold stares from the other Kiithran sitting on either side of D��rgah. They spoke not one word, but seemed to analyze the guests with their colorful but reserved faces.

    "Not at all," said a blue-and-white dahm carrying in bowls of fruit and nuts to set on the table. "You''ve come a long way to see us. It wouldn''t be right to just leave you to the winds."

    "Viilah''s right," said D��rgah, giving his mate a grin and popping a berry into her mouth. "Razira said she found you miles down the Elder River. I''ve trekked that stretch before, and it''s not an easy hike. You''re welcome to stay as long as you need."

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Viilah''s assistant, a young kria of salt-and-pepper pattern, gave a whine of approval.

    "I think it''s exciting to finally meet people from Below," she said, laying her platter of grilled fruit and steamed leaf rolls in front of the party. Her big doe eyes shone and her ears quivered in restrained delight, "I hope you will share your stories with us tonight."

    D��rgah chuffed a chuckle and waved her away, "There will be plenty of time for that later, Suri. For now, let them eat."

    Suri dipped her head and took her place at Viilah''s side.

    Aidan and Syra dug right in, but Petra looked down her nose at the steaming bundles of green and purple leaves, hesitant to pick one in fear of spitting it right back out. She wanted meat. Be it red or white, baked or seared. She wanted it hot and juicy, not limp and leathery and smelling of Aidan''s sweaty socks.

    "Better pick something," Cassius whispered, glancing over to Karima, an elder dahm with red horns who eyed Petra over her nectar-berry wine with a disapproving scowl.

    "I don''t see why they couldn''t eat their own food," Karima grumbled to Viilah.

    "Be nice, mahna," Viilah hushed her mother, "they''re our guests."

    "But for how long? Winter just left and the gardens are sparse at best. We can''t afford to spoil these people."

    Petra looked from Karima back to the tray of smelly rolls, "I''ll take the nuts." She held out a hand for the bowl to be passed. She poured some into her dish and leaned over to Cassius, "At least they don''t stink."

    "How long do you intend to stay?" Viilah asked out of curiosity.

    The party looked to each other, then to D��rgah.

    "We''re not sure, actually," said Syra. She could feel her skin burn under Karima''s glare. It was rude, she knew this, but Valen had not once given them an actual time frame��it was always just rush-rush, go here, now there.

    "We''ll know a lot more tomorrow, after the meeting," D��rgah said, relieving the tension. "Tonight is for rest and for stories." He glanced over to Suri with a sparkle in his eye, "And there is a star shower tonight. You all really must stay up to see it. The view from up here has no comparison."

    "A star shower?" asked Aidan.

    "It''s what Morai is most known for��other than the floating islands," Razira said.

    "Several times a year, stars fall from the sky," explained D��rgah, "and every time they find their way to the Lower Lands, just inside our territory. The fields and grasslands to the north are pocketed from them."

    "The ancients said the lake calls to them," Suri said, unable to forego the tale, "that they are gifts from the sky��bits of sun and moon searching for their final resting place."

    "That stone in your ring," D��rgah continued, "it''s the same as ours." He pointed to the silver band on his horn, then to the stone set into Viilah''s headdress, "Morakii. There''re some deep in the Elder Mountains, but most come from our northern plains. We''re lucky I suppose��we can''t farm there, but it seems you humans are quite fond of them."

    "So, that''s why your borders are so tight," said Aidan.

    D��rgah nodded, "They''re a finite resource. One we depend on. Luckily, there''s a demand surge right now, particularly for the smaller ones. Don''t know why, but I can''t complain. Spring came late again, so we''re happy to have the extra food stores."

    "You, too, huh?" Syra looked out the window at the terraced gardens and the red sky that sent the evening mist ashimmer. But then, movement in a street caught her attention.

    "What''s that?" she asked, pointing at the line of Kiithran weaving through the streets below.

    "That would be Ekahlu''s procession," said Viilah. "She''s taking a mate tomorrow, so her family is leading her to Moremi for Vaasah."

    "Vaasah?" asked Petra, confused by their terminology.

    "The giving of oneself," said Karima, craning her neck to watch from her seat, "or The Clipping."

    None of the siblings liked the sound of that.

    But Karima watched on in tender awe, "When a kria takes a mate, she removes her flight feathers as a testament to her devotion to her new family and the Aerie."

    Petra froze mid-chew, "Wait. What do you mean removes?"

    Karima looked over at Petra, gaze steady on her furrowed brow, "They''re clipped. Cut off."

    "Meaning she can''t fly." Petra''s ears flushed red.

    "She''ll still be able to glide, and hop island to island. But, she will remain here, on Morai, where she belongs: with her family."

    Syra and Cassius listened in silence, their stomachs tight from imagining having their own wings clipped. But, Petra��as usual��was not silent. And she was not having any of it.

    "What kind of sick shit have you been taught?"

    "Petra!" Cassius snapped at her.

    "I''m so sorry," he said to Karima and the others, "please excuse her." He went to pull her away, but she snatched her arm away from him.

    "Excuse my ass! Did you not hear what they''re about to do?"

    "Yes, we are right h��"

    "They''re going to cut her wings off!"

    "Feathers, Petra, not the entire wing," Syra corrected. Though it did not make the idea any more palpable. "I agree, it''s a bit brutal, but it''s their custom, not ours."

    "A bit? She''s being mutilated."

    "And we have no say in it. No matter how much we may disagree."

    Petra seethed and shot Karima a searing glare.

    "Excuse me," she hissed before storming away down the hallway to their guest room.

    ***

    After several minutes of apologizing and feeble explanations of their sister''s rude display, Syra, Cassius and Aidan found Petra sitting cross-legged and fuming in their guest room.

    "Could you try to be more amicable?" Cassius growled, pulling the curtain across the doorway.

    "I''m trying to avoid snapping that old graga''s neck."

    "The only graga I see here is you insulting our hosts."

    Petra snorted in surprise, "Well, excuse me for denouncing sanctioned mutilation."

    "But you have no say. This is not your clan."

    "No, but you are. And you need to stop treating me like one of your hatchlings."

    The air around Cassius went cold, "I will when you stop needing me to."

    Petra''s jaw quivered as if flames would spit out. But she clamped it shut, and turned her back to him with a huff.

    Cassius gave a long sigh and sat next to Syra on their sleeping mats.

    Syra stared at him in a bit of shock. He was right, but she didn''t disagree with Petra either. Her stomach turned at the idea of losing a part of herself over a brutish, ancient commandment. She loathed having no choice about it even more.

    But, this is their land, she debated herself, this is their way. We can''t just command them to do otherwise simply because we don''t like it.

    But, while Syra took the more diplomatic approach, Petra still reeled.

    "What''s wrong with these folks?" Petra asked, her tone more hurt than angry. "Thinking it''s perfectly fine to cut their limbs off just because some elders told them to. It''s a bunch of bashta."

    "It''s also tradition," said Razira, sticking her head in through the doorway.

    "No. ''Tradition'' is wearing horn rings and carving memories into the wall," Petra hissed. "That is blatent harm to a family member and a sick means of control."

    "Oh, I certainly agree with you," Razira sat herself by Petra, moved by her sympathies. "However, change is not that simple."

    "As far as our records go��and further still, I''m sure��Kiithran have always placed high value on family. On honor, humility, and respect. The other races call us pacifists, but we have yet to have one war, while you have had many. You dragons even left your homeland to avoid those wars, correct?"

    Petra blinked in surprise of her knowledge, but nodded, "Centuries ago, but yes."

    "You see, it is this love of community, the placing others before yourself, that has made us progress and kept us safe."

    "You sure that''s not just your grandmaw talking?" Petra asked with a skeptical eye.

    "Dragons value all of those things, too," Syra said, though a hair softer than her enraged sister, "but we also understand the importance of keeping an open mind. Surely they are open to reason."

    "The elders are held in high regard for a reason: with age comes wisdom, wisdom to make the right choices given hard decisions."

    "Knowledge comes from age, not wisdom," Aidan corrected.

    Razira stared down at the thatched floor, "You''re probably right. But that doesn''t change anything. Just as you stand by your own convictions, so do they. They believe a physical show of devotion��like the Vaasah��will hold one more accountable and better benefit the Aerie."

    "Belief in something doesn''t make it right," Petra growled. "I can believe Cassius is a good singer until my ears bleed, but that doesn''t mean he can actually carry a tune."

    "Watch it," Cassius said, anger still churning behind his side-eye.

    "What? You are a bit pitchy."

    "I''m about to be a bit bitchy if you don''t sto��."

    Syra placed a hand on Cassius knee, quieting him, and turned a grave face to Razira, "So, if one day you do take a mate, then��"

    "Then I will be clipped."

    "But, what about the Dahmia?" asked Petra, "I thought you wanted to lead them."

    "I do! But..." Her voice shrank and her ears fell back.

    "My mate will ascend to become Gahirem, as I will become Lahirem," Razira said as if recited, her eyes sad. "And I will stay here, on these islands, caring for the sick, the old, and the newborn. Just like all the Lahirem before me."

    She paused, her eyes narrowed, and she looked up at Petra with steeled determination, "And that''s why I will never take a mate."

    ***

    The falling stars came and went that night, as did the tales of their travels and Syra''s long-winded explanation of the Talian cure��most of which soared over poor Suri''s head. But Petra''s anger burned on, shoved deep into her gut and covered by a flat face that refused to turn one inch towards Karima. Not even sleep��nor the kind offering of meat at breakfast��could quench it, and the meeting of the Kesh Raza began with her skipping salutations all together.

    "So, where is the next shard and what do we have to do to get it?" she asked when Valen appeared in D��rgah''s mirror.

    "Well, good morning to you, too," Valen said, her bluntness shaking him from his mind fog brought on by another sleepless night. "Glad to see you''re finally interested in our little campaign."

    "I''m interested in going home. Now, where is it?"

    "In regards to the shard," D��rgah said with some hesitation, "it''s more complicated than that. It can''t simply be given."

    "Of course, not." Petra scoffed and leaned back away from the table with a huff.

    "But before we get to that," Valen said, his hand asking for patience, "there are matters I need to discuss. D��rgah-saf, have you reached your decision?"

    The chief glanced to Karima and the other Kiithran in the room, and his ears pulled back in concern, "I have, but the council is still split."

    "I see." Valen took a hard look at those gathered around their leader, noting how a small majority were beginning to gray around the snout.

    "You know I understand the Kiithran way of diplomacy," he continued humbly, "but I cannot stress enough our need for your support."

    At this, the elders snorted, huffed, or flared their ears in annoyed protest. But Valen pushed on.

    "There is talk of a small resistance building in Landelle, but if the Black Thorn continues to grow at this rate, the Altairan army will no longer have the upper hand. Air support could be exactly what we need to stop this before innocent people end up hurt. Your dahmia could easily��"

    "My dahmia protect Morai," D��rgah snapped, surprising Syra with his firmness. "They always have."

    "And they always will��"

    "Not if I send them to die in a war we have no business being in."

    "No business, you say?" said Aidan, earning him shocked looks from the Kiithran around them. "With all due respect, D��rgah-saf, just because you live miles above them, does not mean you are safe."

    "Who are you to say what we are or are not?" Karima spat, the feathers at her neck bristling.

    Aidan flinched at her sudden zeal, but D��rgah showed no surprise at the growing nods of agreement from her comrades.

    "You come into our home, complete outsiders, eat our food, make us cook meat��with utter disregard for our beliefs��then lecture us on our own wellbeing! You have no place on Morai, and frankly, I don''t know why you''re still here."

    Syra could feel the tension in the room split down the middle, with the elders turning dirty looks on Aidan while the remaining council members bristled at Karima''s rude and tactless comments.

    "You judge too quickly, Karima," D��rgah said, shutting her up just enough to leave her mouth wagging.

    "First off, I invited them, and they will leave when I say. Second, that meat was bought and cooked this morning in Shrye, outside our territory. Lastly, this outsider is the eldest prince of Altaira, our largest trading partner. You would be wise to treat him with respect." He paused to let the possible consequences of her words sink in, "He also happens to be correct."

    "We''ve remained isolated for too long," D��rgah said, when calm had returned to the table. "We turned our heads away from the ugly and the uncomfortable, happy to stay in our bubble away from the ground and its threats. We thought we could stay like that, if we just focused on maintaining ourselves and keeping to the traditions that founded us. I thought this, too. But..."

    He turned a sad, but honest eye to his council members, "But we can''t. Not anymore. The world is changing, with or without us."

    "Our cities are growing," Aidan added, "and so are our machines. We might be grounded right now, but give us time. If you do not stand your ground now, more will come. And they will bring the war to you, here."

    "Is that a threat?" asked Namir, his head lowered. He was not keen on the idea of fighting a human war, but he respected the council and would not tolerate insolence.

    "A warning," Aidan looked him dead in the eyes, but Namir could see the compassion behind them. "These people we''re fighting, they won''t stop after capturing Altaira��I know their leader won''t. So, you can either lend a hand in stopping them now, or you can lose countless lives after they''ve burned your crop fields and marked you as game to be hunted."

    Reality hit the council like a bad landing. They muttered amongst themselves, but Karima sat there fuming.

    "Good luck hunting what you can''t catch, Lowlander." Her feathers puffed and her rump was pressed as tight to the floor as her mind was on defiance.

    "I will not��"

    "We can''t lend you a hand," an old rahg said to Aidan, ignoring the fact that he had cut her off, "but, we can lend you our wings."

    Karima balked and D��rgah and Razira''s faces alit.

    "So, you will join us?" asked Valen, his lightened mood bringing more color to his face.

    "We will send those who volunteer," D��rgah clarified. He gave the council a questioning glance, but they nodded in agreement.

    All but Karima, that is. She snorted loudly and sprung from her seat, nearly tipping on her shaking legs.

    "You are sending them to die!"

    "We all die, Karima," said the old rahg, having accepted the grave situation himself. "Death is no stranger, even up here. We are sending them to stop the unnecessary ones."

    Karima would hear no more. Her pride was shattered and her nerves shot, and the front door couldn''t have been any louder when it slammed shut behind her.

    "And to think she''s my grandmother," Razira said softly, causing Petra to snicker.

    "And what of the shard?" Syra asked as the rest of the council took their leave from the hut. "Aren''t you going to ask about giving it away?"

    "They don''t know what the shard really is," D��rgah admitted when he was certain there were no more lingering ears. "They think it some magical stone we can simply trade away."

    "It isn''t?" asked Petra, half-joking.

    D��rgah and Valen leered at her, and Razira prodded her in the side.

    "They don''t know that it''s the most sacred relic we have." D��rgah pointed to the crystal lodged into the headdress at his forehead, "The Kiirem, the Heart of the Sky, is the mark of Morai''s Gahirem. It has been for the last 100 years."

 |Chapter 21| Ati-Kii

    <hr>

    "So, the Kiithran used it, too?" asked Aidan, disappointed.

    "We did," D��rgah admitted. "Not to better ourselves, like the Tal, but to better our society��how it''s managed. The enchantment placed on it allows the wearer to know the feelings of others��to know their intentions."

    Cassius perked an ear, "It makes you an Empath?"

    "Effectively, yes. That''s how we''re able to keep crime to a minimum here, by stopping it before it starts."

    "So, you spy on them?" asked Petra. "That''s a bit invasive."

    "So is having a horn shoved into your side."

    Petra stammered but acknowledged his point. D��rgah sighed and let his eyelids droop, "We''ve been trying to think of ways to govern without it, but have yet to discover anything better."

    "I doubt there is anything better," Aidan chimed, "but just-as-good is better than nothing."

    "The Kiirem is also a relic, a symbol. The elders would never hear of it."

    "Then don''t tell them," Petra said. "Replace the shard with a normal one. I doubt they''ll even notice."

    "Perhaps not, but I cannot out rightly lie to my people. It would go against everything we stand for and I would lose any faith they have in me."

    "Then let them decide for themselves." Syra''s words brought looks of surprise and confusion from the Kiithran.

    "All of them," she continued, "not just the council. This decision affects every Kiithran on every island. They should have a say, too. Explain the situation and let them decide yes, or no. I''m sure they''ll appreciate your honesty and your concern."

    "That''s a lot of Kiithran to ask at one time," D��rgah said in his consideration. "We''d have to gather everyone together and--"

    "Today," Razira said, leaning over the table. "Ask them today, at Ekhalu''s Ati-kii. The whole Aerie will be there. After the ceremony, you can address everyone."

    "But that''s so sudden, and I''d hate to ruin the good mood."

    "Too sudden to save your people from an amassing army?" asked Aidan with a raised brow.

    "The boy has a point," Viilah said to her mate.

    D��rgah pondered a moment. His ears twitched and his eyes darted as his mind ran the pros and cons of such a decision.

    "I will make the announcement at the ceremony," he said after a long sigh, "but only after everyone has eaten. Perhaps a full belly will make the news more palatable."

    ***

    Despite their humble furnishings, the Kiithran spared no exuberance when it came to ceremony. Every hut and every street had been set aglitter with stones, feathers, and even shells. Strings of flowers draped hut-to-hut down the procession line, and each aerie member was freshly preened and donned their best adornments. Razira and Viilah had loaned the party their extra fineries for the occasion, but they fit awkwardly and Syra still felt underdressed in her dusty vest and britches.

    She and the others stood just off the platform where D��rgah, Viilah, Razira, and Namir sat in full headdresses to oversee the ceremony. In front of them, a young rahg restrained himself from pacing as everyone awaited the arrival of his mate-to-be.

    Not one sound was muttered when the blue-gray kria entered into the round. Even Petra was speechless seeing the headdress the kria wore. Trailing from her head and down her back, a train of long feathers dragged several feet behind her in a rainbow of colors.

    "Those are the feathers from Ekhalu''s family," Suri whispered to Syra from her spot by the platform. "Her mother''s, grandmother''s, great-grandmother''s. Ekhalu''s were added just this morning."

    As the kria ascended onto the platform, Syra saw the deep blue feathers gleaming from the train''s tail end. She craned her head for a better view of the couple that stood snout-to-snout above them.

    "Thank you, all," D��rgah began, standing to address the gathering in Kiithrani, "for joining us in this momentous and wonderful moment in the lives of these two young Kiithran."

    Syra''s mind stumbled as his words filled the clearing. They came out in throaty huffs instead of hisses, but she understood them. With the exception of a word or two, this Kiithran was speaking Draconic. She looked to Suri for an explanation, but the anukaal was too enthralled with her mentor to pay her any mind. She glanced over to Petra and Cassius and they exchanged agreeing looks. So, it isn''t just me.

    "Even as an anukaal," he continued with a warm glance to the rahg, "Sendur was always eager to learn and has proven himself a strong and dependable dahmia. I, D��rgah, Gahirem of Morai and mate to Viilah, am pleased and honored to present him as a worthy mate to she who will have him."

    D��rgah turned to Viilah, who rose to take her place at his side.

    "I, Viilah, Lahirem of Morai and mate to D��rgah, am pleased and honored to present Ekhalu as a mate worthy of his name and affection. Moremi has confirmed with me that Ekhalu has completed her Vaasah with ready heart and sound mind. Throughout her apprenticeship, she demonstrated an open heart and a strong sense of duty to her aerie members regardless of age. Even as she stands here, she comes with numerous recommendations and no qualm against her. With the Aerie''s permission, I ask these two be bonded in Ati-Kii: as one heart below the sky."

    The silence over the crowd broke and cheers erupted into a chorus of applause for the new couple. D��rgah and Viilah turned from the crowd to Razira and Namir, who stood and presented two metal rings to the couple. With shaking hands, the two placed their rings on their mate''s left horn, the colored bands matching their mate''s plumage.

    "It''s the same," Petra whispered in confusion, "the speech, the rings, all of it is the same as ours. Why are Kiithran mimicking a dragon ceremony?"

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Cassius shushed her, but Syra had the same question and she made a mental noted to ask Razira after it was all over. But for now, she took in the glowing faces and flapping wings of the village as the couple finalized the ceremony with outspread wings and entwining horns.

    Drums beat, flutes whistled, and voices sang. But seeing the rings glint on their horns and the joy behind their eyes made Syra''s chest seize. It was a scene she had wanted to share with Aidan, but one that would never play.

    It''s not like you could stay with him, Petra''s words echoed in her head.

    It''s true, though, she thought against the ache, a union like ours couldn''t work long term. He''s human. If I do return and become Vayguard, I''ll have to provide an heir. There''s no magic for that.

    "So, what did you think?" Razira''s excited trill snapped Syra out of her trance. The ceremony had ended and she had completely missed the part where the couple had glided off together into the clouds.

    "Oh, it was...heart-wrenching." She wasn''t lying.

    "Wasn''t it?" Razira said with a bittersweet chuckle. She stared off into the sky where they had departed, her eyes fighting the sadness that threatened to make them water. "I''ve always thought it was a beautiful sight, to see them soar away together��as one heart under the sky."

    "Yet it''s something you''ll never have for yourself?" Syra''s words escaped her filter and caught Razira off guard.

    "I''m sorry! I shouldn''t have��"

    "No, you''re exactly right," said Razira with a wry grin. "Until I can change everyone''s mind about Vaasah, it will only be a dream."

    Syra paused a moment, then placed a gentle hand on Razira''s snout and smiled, "Somethings are worth changing."

    "Hey, Raz!" Petra called, walking over. "Why was that ceremony spoken in Draconic?"

    "Draconic?" asked Razira.

    "That''s right," Syra said, remembering her question, "your ceremony was very similar to ours. Almost word for word."

    "Word for word?" Razira tilted her head in confusion, "But, that was all in Kiithrani."

    "It was both, in a way," D��rgah said as he left the platform to join them. "I''m not sure how much history your elders teach you," he said to the siblings, "but Morai wasn''t founded by the Kiithrani��not originally. But by dragons. The Sylvani, specifically."

    The siblings went wide-eyed. Syra had noticed small similarities, but attributed it to the growing trade between them.

    "Then why are there only Kiithran in Morai?" asked a skeptical Petra.

    "According to record, the Kiithran are a relatively new race. When the dragons came from beyond the sea, they marked us as prey. But, apparently we showed promise and they decided to foster our potential and began to teach us. Our language and customs are similar because they were the first we ever learned. And why we regard dragons so highly."

    He gave Petra a stern look, "It was also a reason why I allowed you to stay here despite the events at dinner��out of respect for your kind."

    "We certainly appreciate that," Cassius said, dipping his head.

    "Glad to hear it. Now, if you''d excuse me, it appears I''m needed elsewhere," D��rgah said before trotting off to join a dahmia who paced with a look of concern.

    "Well, now that we''ve all had a history lesson, how about we check out the buffet? I heard they brought fish this time and I''m starving." Petra rounded the platform and made a b-line to the spread of platters piled high with tasty treasures.

    ***

    Syra was about to bite into a juicy melon when bloodscent chilled her stomach. A bugled shriek came from behind the platform. All heads turned and dahmia leapt from their seats.

    Dashing past the feasting gathering, a rahg bounded down the street with a mass of jewels and feathers caught in his mouth.

    "That''s the Kiirem!" shouted Namir, racing off after him.

    Syra and Razira went to follow, but were stopped short by D��rgah''s raspy voice.

    "Razira, wait!"

    Syra''s gut dropped at the sight of the chief limping around the platform, blood dripping from his side and dribbling down his legs.

    "Pacha!" Razira screamed and ran to his side.

    Syra went after her, but Petra held her back.

    "I''ll stay. Don''t let him fly away!"

    Syra hesitated and bit her lip as D��rgah collapsed, but Petra pushed her away.

    "Go!"

    "Stop the bleeding," Syra commanded before bolting off behind Aidan after the rahg.

    Syra was relieved to see that Namir had cornered the rahg just before he had reached the landing platform.

    "Stay back!" Namir yelled at them.

    But the rahg used the distraction to buck his head up under Namir''s snout, knocking him back and allowing him room to leap away.

    "Shit," Aidan hissed and picked up his pace.

    Syra sprinted after them, but the rahg''s figure continued to shrink away. At this point, neither of them could reach him and she watched in horror as his wings unfurled and flapped in the wind blowing in from the ledge.

    I can''t let him fly. If he takes off, we''ll never get it back.

    Stretching her hands in front of her, she focused on the wide masses of feathers. She breathed in sync with their beating, and felt resistance against her palms as light glowered around the rahg''s wings. And then she pulled. Hard.

    The snap of bone echoed off the trees and the rahg screamed and fell with his snout digging up dirt. Namir threw himself over the rahg''s neck, holding him down, but he continued to shriek under his weight. Both wings were bent at a disgusting angle and blood had begun to leak onto the ground from the exposed bone.

    "Get the Kiirem!" Namir commanded Aidan, who snatched the headdress from the rahg''s gaping mouth.

    Holding his head against the ground, Namir saw the blood that glistened and stained his horns red. It smelled of his father.

    "Why did you do this?" Namir snarled down at the rahg.

    But he gritted his teeth and refused to give Namir an answer.

    "Answer me, Namek! Of all my dahmia, I thought I could at least trust you." Pain mingled with the anger on Namir''s face, "You were my friend, so why��"

    "Because we need it!" Namek hissed. He forced his feet under him and tried to buck Namir off, but Namir slammed his weight down and back against a wing, inciting another scream.

    "Who''s we?"

    Again, Namek clamped his mouth shut despite the pain. But Syra already had an idea of who he was talking about.

    "The Black Thorn, right?" she asked, standing over Namek who stared up at her in shock��he had a horrible Poker face. "I thought so. Lift up his head," she told Namir.

    Hidden among his neck feathers, a bronze coin hung from a leather strand.

    "So, they are coming after them," said Aidan. "We''ll have to tell Valen when we get back."

    "You''re not going back," said Namek, "I won''t let you." He thrust his head back, digging the tips of his horns into Namir''s meaty shoulder. Not deep, but enough to make him lose his grip.

    Namek bucked, flinging Namir away and charged at Syra. She grabbed for her sword, only to remember she had left it in the room for the ceremony.

    "Here!" Aidan threw his sword over Namek and Syra dodged to the side to catch it.

    She tossed the sheath to the side and held the shining blade at Namek''s face. It was long and heavy, and her hands shook. Namek reared and she ducked under his swiping talons. She heaved the blade upwards, slashing across his jaw. He screamed and raked his horns up against the air, their prongs seeking her soft belly as he pushed her back towards the ledge.

    Syra faltered as she felt wind whip against her back from below. The fear in her eyes spurred Namek on, and he lowered his head for the last strike.

    "Run!" Aidan called from behind Namek and he leapt on top of the rahg, grabbing him by the horns and steering him away from Syra.

    Syra''s feet pushed her sideways, away from the incoming horns. But as Namek''s head spun around, so did his hindfeet.

    Oof!

    Syra felt all the air leave her lungs as a hindfoot collided into her chest. Her feet left the ground and she watched in slow motion as the ledge pulled away from her and the wall of stone rushed upwards as she fell.

    Earth and stone blurred her vision, but she still felt the hilt in her hand. She shoved the blade into the clifface. It shook and jostled and scraped against the rocks, but she clung on with both hands, her muscles screaming under her weight and momentum.

    "Syra!"

    She opened her eyes to see Aidan''s small head poking over the ledge. The sword had stopped her descent, but she was left hanging with a weakening grip.

    "Just hold on! Namir''s coming to get you!"

    She ground her teeth against the pain in her hands, but breathed a sigh of relief, "It''s okay, I got it!"

    If I can get the sword out, I can just shift and fly back up, she thought, wiggling the blade back and forth. It gave easily and she felt herself slip. But it was the glow that peeked out from the stones by her face that made her freeze. Lodged under the blade, a morakii smiled up at her as cracks shimmered and split from the blade''s edge.

    "Bashta��"

    Her vision went white then black as the explosion sent her soaring.

 |Chapter 22| Rising Mountain & Setting Sun

    <hr>

    "Syra!" Aidan called to the unconscious body Namir laid in front of him. "Syra, look at me!"

    "What happened?" Cassius drew back an examining hand from the charred flesh that snarled up at him.

    "An explosion. Namir managed to catch her, but..." Aidan cringed at form by his knees. At the red, melted skin that spread across her face. At the bubbling blisters slick with blood. At the stench of burnt hair and meat. At the bombardment of images of Ethan that brought pain and nausea with them.

    "Aidan?" Cassius asked with soft voice and curious eyes.

    He watched the prince''s eyes fill and dribble down those high and proud cheekbones. He didn''t even both to wipe them away. He just stared, unblinking, deep lines appearing one after another until his eyes were barely visible.

    "Niidah," a draconic whimper barely escaped Aidan''s lips, and the twins stared in both surprise and silent awe.

    "Please, wake up," Aidan repeated. "I''m sorry. For everything. I''m sorry I couldn''t...couldn''t help. I tried...but��"

    He choked back a sob and studied her wounds that didn''t shimmer.

    "Why isn''t she healing?" Aidan spat, making the twins jump.

    "I-I don''t know," said Petra, "maybe she''s hurt too badly?"

    "How?" he snarled, his red face wrinkled and contorted. "She''s a fucking dragon--you guys are remarkably hard to kill."

    Petra puffed up, but kept her tongue still and gaze locked on the faint rise-and-fall of her sister''s chest.

    "Sorry," Aidan said with lowered head. "I''m just..." A light finger stroked away loose strands from her face and patted a cheek in delicate taps, "I just don''t know what to do." His voice cracked as he gripped her petite hand.

    "We know," Cassius gave Aidan a firm pat before reaching down to lift Syra up. "We need to get her to Moremi. She might know something."

    "Moremi''s probably busy with D��rgah. We have to��"

    "D��rgah''s dead," Petra said flatly, causing Aidan to choke. "We tried to plug the wound, but he bled out before Moremi had a chance to fully bandage him."

    "And now Syra might��"

    "She will not!" Petra spat, standing. "She can''t."

    "Let''s get her to Moremi, in any case," said Cassius. "I hate to bother her now, but if she helped Syra once, maybe she can do it again."

    ***

    The entire village seemed to be crowded around Moremi''s hut when they delivered Syra to the front door. Kiithran huddled with snouts pressed to every window, and many wept off to the side.

    "There you are!" Suri said, hurrying out the door. "Come! You should be with us, too. Raz would��"

    Suri froze seeing Syra''s limp body in Aidan''s arms, "What happened?"

    "No time," Aidan said, pushing past her, "We need Moremi''s help."

    "W-wait, you can''t! She''s��"

    But Aidan was already through the door.

    "Moremi! We need your��"

    Bloodshot eyes looked up at him from D��rgah''s lifeless body, and he froze.

    "I-I''m sorry. I didn''t mean to intr��"

    "Syra?" Razira stood from father''s side to inspect her friend''s injuries. "Not you, too," she whimpered at Syra''s shallow breathing and the burns that covered half her body.

    "Moremi?" She looked over to the grieving healer with pleading eyes, "Please?"

    "Of course, bring her here, quick."

    Moremi left her chief''s side and examined the damage, "This," she said with a nod, "this I can fix."

    She rushed about her supplies, chopping, grinding, and mixing until she brought over a bowl of brown-green salve.

    "Help me put it on the burns," she said, slathering the goo over the red, blistered skin. Her gentle hands wrapped long, slimy leaves over the burns and Petra gagged at the sudden stench of dead fish.

    "We''ll have to keep it covered, but it will protect the wound and relieve the pain while she heals. These burns are pretty serious, though, so it might take some time."

    "How much time?" Aidan asked. "She''s not healing like normal."

    "Magical burns damage more than skin," she explained, "and they leave a kind of...residue that the body''s mana has to break down. She''s lucky she''s Gifted--most Kiithran would have permanent damage if they survived at all. She might get away with some light scarring."

    She snatched a small morakii from a chest and nestled it neatly on Syra''s chest, "Hopefully, this should help speed up the process."

    "Thank you, Moremi," Cassius said, tearing up, "for helping even though you''re in pain, too."

    She swallowed a knot and glanced forlorn at her chief''s body. But, then returned to applying the salve with a weak smile, "It''s what D��rgah would have wanted."

    ***

    A vigil was held that night. After D��rgah''s family had grieved over his body, the Aerie followed Viilah, Razira, and Namir up the island''s slope to a clearing on the highest ledge. There, it was placed on a pyre. One after the other, each member paid their respects until Viilah was left holding a torch in shaking talons.

    "You never gave me choice, you know," she whispered to her mate. "I could have had my pick of mates, but you stole my heart before I even went looking. But I never once regretted it. To Morai, you were Gahirem: their strong but compassionate leader. To our rima, you were teacher and giver of warm nuzzles and sloppy kisses. And to me," her voice broke, "you were my partner, my best friend, my ''rising mountain''...my D��rgah."

    At Viilah''s nod, Suri approached holding a small bowl. Viilah''s head lowered as if weighted by the setting moon. Tilting her head, she rested her left horn against D��rgah''s, the metal rings clinking in the chilly silence.

    "Pick any star," she whispered into his ear, "any star and I will follow it."

    Her eyes closed and Suri raised the bowl just above Viilah''s ring. Steam flared from the metal as the stream of liquid from the bowl bubbled and ate away at both rings, carving out a scar in Viilah''s horn.

    Petra caught a breath in her throat and Cassius took hold of her quivering hand. They had never seen their mother''s tree, but the pain in Viilah''s eyes was unmistakable. One they glimced their father wear around tight corners.

    Raising her head, Viilah clenched the torch in her hand and looked out over the mourning crowd, "The rising sun has now set! And though the night will be long and lonely, we know it will rise again." She glanced over to Razira with a sad but proud smile, "It will be a different sun, but one that is bright and beautiful, and full of new possibilities! So tonight, we send our brother back to the skies, where the sun is warm and the winds soft. May he soar forever!"

    "Forever may he soar!" cried the gathering.

    "Goodbye, mikhan" Viilah hushed and tossed the torch onto the pyre.

    "Syra should''ve been here," Petra said to Cassius as they watched the pyre blaze.

    "She would be if she wasn''t��"

    "Nearly burned to death?"

    Cassius opened his mouth, but had no rebuttal. He held tight to her hand but her entire body stood tense.

    "Marrak is an Ignis," her voice came out weak and strained, "just standing next to one can burn you. She''s only on her third molt, Cas. If Father''s hide couldn''t stand up to him, how can she? Or us, for that matter?"

    She forced her breaths through her tightening chest. She squirmed against cold dampness in her palms. And she cursed the tingle that left her throat to sting her eyes.

    "I''m fucking terrified, Cas."

    He clenched a fist and watched the fire turn D��rgah''s feathers into ash, "Me, too."

    The heat around his sister cooled as her shimmering walls, invisible to most, melted down. Blackness filled her gut and battled its way upward against the dying embers in her chest. Each forced breath resurrecting the furnace only to smothered in the next cold wave.

    He wrapped a long arm around her shoulders and rested his head against hers, "But we have to try."

    Her muscles ached to squirm away, but the influx of warmth from him kept her still.

    "We''ve come too far to just give up and run away."

    "No running, huh?" she scoffed.

    "Never thought that''d be aimed at you?"

    "I don''t run," Petra snarled with a glare.

    "I know you don''t."

    Silent words passed and Petra finally backed down, "We just have to destroy those shards. Maybe Marrak will give up without them."

    "I highly doubt that."

    "Shut up, Cas." She shrugged his arm away, "Let me have hope in something."

    Cassius went quiet, but a smile played at the corner of his mouth as they stood there, in the brisk night air, where the moon and stars greeted D��rgah''s ashes sent skyward on the winds.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ***

    Moremi had insisted on keeping Syra overnight, so the party decided to spend the late night hours comforting Razira in her room.

    They told of their own stories of loss and grief��albeit briefly��and watched her walls slowly crumble. There, Razira allowed herself to break. To laugh and cry at the good and bad times that swarmed her mind. To curse herself for all the grief she had caused her father and for taking their time for granted. And eventually��after her wails had quieted��to fall asleep by Petra''s lap.

    "We should let her sleep," Aidan said. "I''m going to go check on Syra."

    The boys stood to leave, but Petra refused to budge.

    "I''m staying right here."

    Aidan went to argue, but Cassius caught him by the shoulder and they left Petra to keep watch over the grieving kria.

    "You don''t have to stay," Razira said.

    "Yes, I do."

    Razira didn''t argue. Even her eyelids felt to heavy to lift. They sat in the quiet, with Petra leaving Razira to mull around in the endless thoughts she knew plagued her mind.

    But the warmth from Razira''s plummage brought calm to Petra''s nerves. The delicate feathers on her head were soft and smooth, and Petra''s fingers stroked them absently. Away from judging eyes, Petra allowed a faint hum of a melody to escape her.

    When the winds are strong and your thoughts churn dark,

    Take my wings and let them lift your heart.

    For I��m here,

    Anytime I hear your call, I��ll fly the skies for you.

    Razira''s ear twitched from sudden but silky voice that filled the small room like warm mist. The warmth washed over her and saturated every limb. Her muscles relaxed and her breathing slowed. Sleep tickled her mind, but a twitching hand brought her back.

    "What is that?" she asked, when Petra finished.

    "A lullaby. We usually just sing it to fussy hatchlings, but it works for other things, too."

    There was a sad strain to her voice, so Razira left it alone, "It''s nice."

    Silence came again.

    "I''d like to tell you it goes away��the pain," Petra finally said, "but it doesn''t. Not really." Her voice was dry and flat, but Razira could hear the silenced wails behind it. "You will smell him, hear him, see him just out of sight. You will hate the sky for its brilliance, yet cling to it for any passing vestige��as if your wishes could lead him home. Even the damn birds seem to know his laugh. I''ve been told it dulls over time��that ''the ache for something missing becomes a reminder that they''re always with you''. But, I haven''t gotten there yet."

    "I doubt that."

    Petra scoffed, "You say this after knowing me for two days?"

    "That''s all I need." Razira didn''t look up, but she knew Petra''s gaze was on her, "You''re strong, Petra, anyone can see that. You''ve known sorrow, yet you still push forward. I don''t know if I can do that."

    "You can''t. Not alone."

    She sighed and chewed on her words, "I''m not proud of it��and don''t you dare repeat this��but, after Father was killed, when the humans traded wagons for weapons...if it weren''t for Cassius, I...I''d probably be a tree right now."

    Petra stared past the grains in the flooring, but Razira looked at her puzzled.

    "A...tree?"

    Her ignorance slapped Petra in the face and she quickly stuffed all sentimentality back into their box.

    "Nevermind. I meant that things would''ve been much harder without him. My point is, you still have your mother, and Namir, even little Suri. Don''t take them for granted."

    Petra felt Razira''s body tense from surprise. But after a moment she relaxed and smiled, leaving them in silence once again.

    "You think the Aerie will execute him?" asked Petra, "Namek?"

    "I don''t know. We''ve only ever grounded trespassers��never killed them. But, then again, we''ve never had...this happen."

    Petra kept her mouth shut. She would have clawed Marrak''s throat out had she been given the chance. But Syra was right. This was not her clan. She had no say in policy. No matter how backwards she thought their traditions were.

    "Have you forgiven them yet?" Razira asked after some reflection. "The ones who took your family?"

    Caught off guard, memories of her father, Marrak, and Altaira flooded past Petra''s eyes.

    She caught a snarl behind her teeth, "No."

    It was the image of a broken Aidan clutching her sister��the frustration and sincerity in his apologies��that made her pause. "Not all of them, anyway. But...I''m trying."

    ***

    Everyone was happy to see Syra fully recovered the next morning. But Petra could see the bitter wish hiding behind Razira''s eyes. The wish that her father had also recovered, perhaps even in Syra''s place. She hid it well, as was expected of the next Lahirem, but Petra knew that look and Cassius tried to keep her mood from infecting his own.

    "You healed right up!" Razira gave Syra a playful nudge with her snout.

    "Thanks to Moremi," Syra patted the small bandage remaining on her left jaw. "She said I''m probably going to have a scar from this one, but I''ll certainly take it over dying."

    "I hope you took notes," said Petra.

    Syra held up a small jar filled with the brown-green gel, "Packed and ready."

    "Speaking of ready," Viilah turned to her daughter, "are you?"

    Razira took in a long, deep breath and looked out the window at the gathering that flooded the clearing below the hill.

    "Guess I have to be."

    "You''ll do just fine," Viilah pressed her forehead to Razira''s, "we believe in you. D��rgah believes in you."

    Razira''s eyes glistened.

    "Plus, I''ll be there when you mess up," Namir puffed his chest in jest and Razira smacked his shoulder.

    "Me, too! Me, too!" Suri bounced and wagged her downy tail.

    Razira beamed and laughed, and shot Petra a grateful nod, "I know."

    Syra kept pace as Viilah led the procession down the winding path to the ceremonial platform, the Kiirem held between gentle jaws. It felt more crowded this time. Aerie members huddled close together for support��some still wore tear stains down their muzzles. Even Aidan stood closer to her.

    "The night has lifted!" Viilah stood over the crowd, Kiirem in hand, and Razira sitting somber behind her. "And with it, our sorrow."

    Turning her back to the crowd, Viilah handed the Kiirem to Namir who fluttered up to the arching wooden banner that topped the stage. There, he hung the headdress where a sun was painted to both rise and set.

    "For the dawn has brought us a new sun to comfort and lead us."

    Stepping aside, Viilah and the pounding of drums welcomed Razira to the front. Her legs shook but she kept her chest up and face forward. Forward to her people, to the verdant reef that merged with the blue sky she swore to protect, to the possibilities that burned in her chest.

    Syra watched from below, finding herself in awe.

    I wish I could be that confident.

    She glanced over to Petra who looked on with a giant grin, cheeks flushed with pride for her new friend.

    Does Petra look like that? Does the clan look at her like they did Papa?

    A faint smile flickered on her face.

    I hope they do.

    "Razira-kaal!" Viilah confronted her daughter, removing her own headdress, "Daughter of D��rgah and Viilah, Kaalira of Morai, the sky beckons you to lead its people. Will you accept its charge and treat every family as your own? To teach and lead each member with your best conscience until you choose a mate worthy of your brilliance?"

    Razira met her mother''s gaze with no falter, "Until I choose a mate, I will lead with my best conscience."

    Syra could see the silent words pass between them, but pride never left Viilah''s face.

    "Then shine bright, Razilah of Morai!" She lifted her headdress into the air, "As the setting sun guides us home and invites the evening mist, we pray you give us strength for the day and comfort in the night."

    Bittersweet bugles erupted from the gathering and drums sounded from all around the clearing as the Lahirem''s headdress was lowered onto Razilah''s head.

    "Razilah! Razilah!" chanted the Aerie.

    "Razilah! Razilah!" chanted Syra along with the others. She was happy for her, but concern nagged at her mind.

    How are we going to get the shard now?

    But the new Lahirem gave her a quick nod when the cheers quieted and the drums died.

    "I know this is sudden." Her voice was steady and commanded the crowd better than Syra had expected, "Like all of you, I wish Pach��D��rgah, had left us gray-faced. But he also said that life is as tempestuous as the wind��you adjust what you can, and brace for the worst. That''s why I need you! All of you. A leader is nothing without their people, that''s what he always said. And right now, I need your support more than ever!"

    Confused mutters sprung from the gathering as the council members wove through the crowd and onto the platform. Syra wasn''t surprised that Karima was not among them, but her presence wasn''t necessary. Each councilor stood tall beside their Lahirem, their chests puffed with pride.

    "War is coming!" The oldest councilor, a graying rahg with a thin scar down his muzzle, addressed the crowd with a stern face that gripped any who heard him. It was this face, and the dark tone edged with fear in the word ''war'', that made the blood pool in the Kiithrans'' feet. "We have tried our best to ignore it, believing that ground affairs cannot reach us. But we were foolish."

    He dropped his head, ashamed, and motioned for Razilah to continue.

    "War is coming." Razilah repeated, but then stopped. "No...war is already here!"

    She lifted Namek''s necklace into the air with a shaking hand.

    "D��rgah, my father, and you''re beloved Gahirem, was murdered by a traitor! A traitor that aligned himself with people who wish to tear down our cities and take them for themselves��to destroy and upheave any peace we have managed to create. People who call themselves, the Black Thorn."

    Murmurs buzzed about and she waited for the quiet to return.

    "We''ve known about them for a while, now. We thought we were safe. We thought, because we were a peaceful realm, peace would always last. But we are not safe. And the threat will only grow the longer we choose to ignore it."

    "So, what would you have us do?" came a voice from the crowd, "Hide?"

    "Fight! I...we need you, to fight."

    "Are you fog-headed?" A kria huffed up at her, "Kiithran don''t go to war! We don''t fight! You''ll be sending us to our deaths!"

    "What about those left here on Morai?" Another kria called, "What about the rima left when their father''s don''t return?"

    "We''ll be sending you to protect those rima," said the elder kria next to Razilah, "and only those who volunteer."

    "And who in their right mind would volunteer for that?"

    "Dahmia of Morai," Namir stepped forward, challenging his squadrons, "for years you have trained. From the smallest rima to the strongest rahg, I have seen you fight and bleed, preparing yourselves for when the Aerie needed you. We need you now. You pledged your wings and your loyalty to protect our home, and now we ask you honor that pledge."

    There was hushed talk among the dahmia, but none were completely sold.

    "If you are strong, then you shall be free," Namir quoted the dahmia''s mantra. "But, how can we remain free if we do not fight back?"

    "They''ve already taken our Gahirem!" Razilah joined her brother. "Should we let them have the rest of us, too? Because they will come, and they will take us��either as food for the table, or a beast for the field. Now who''s with me?"

    The hands came slowly. But one by one, they filled the gathering, and Syra filled with relief.

    "Thank the stars," Syra breathed out a long breath and let her shoulders relax.

    I don''t know how Valen plans to use them, but we''ll take all the help we can get.

    "Thank you, all of you," Razilah said with great pride and relief. "The council and I will discuss what steps must be taken. But for now, eat and rest. The celebration was cut short yesterday, and Sendur and Ekahlu deserve to have their bellies filled."

    The crowd dispersed and food was prepared. The tension settled to the back of everyone''s mind as music and belly-bloat softened the nerves. After some debate, the council had decided to call for Valen the next morning as Razilah had insisted that everyone enjoy themselves that night.

    With that, the council departed, but Razilah was not yet finished with Syra and her party.

    "Namir," Razilah gave him a curt nod when she was alone with them.

    He disappeared into a back room, later returning with the Kiirem held tightly in one hand.

    "Take it," Razilah took the stone from her brother and held it out to Syra.

    "W-wait. But, you were supposed to vote on it. What if your people find out? Won''t they be mad?"

    "Maybe, if they even notice." She passed Petra a quick smirk. "At the end of the day, a rock is a rock. It is the people who determine its value. And right now, it''s more valuable to you."

    She grabbed Syra''s hand and slid the green-and-red crystal into her palm.

    "But, you won''t be able to read your people anymore."

    Razilah let her eyelids droop, "Perhaps we were never meant to. Perhaps, it is better to trust and listen to your people rather than...invading their heads. Plus, it didn''t work too well for Pacha in the end. We need something better than false security."

    Syra clutched the shard and joyous relief flooded her face as its warmth flooded her hand, "Thank you."

    "Put it somewhere safe. If things are as bad as Valen says, the Black Thorn could have eyes anywhere, and Koth is a long ways off."

    "Koth? Is that where the next shard is?" asked Aidan.

    Razilah nodded, "Pacha always spoke fondly of Stahdler, the Nord''s chief. But that was before your border disputes, so I can''t guarantee they''ll be that welcoming. Make sure to contact Valen before you attempt to cross the border��Stahdler might be aware of the Kesh Raza, but his guards won''t be."

    "Perfect. Right when I have no sword and no rali." Aidan grumbled to himself. Not to mention he now had no way of fighting Marrak.

    "Not true," Namir said, "not completely." Again, he left the room, but this time returned with a long wooden box.

    "My dahmia scoured for hours looking for this, just so you know." Namir set the box in front of Aidan and lifted the lid.

    Aidan''s excitement evaporated as the blade gleamed up at him in two ragged pieces.

    "Unfortunately, we didn''t find it whole."

    Aidan''s shoulders drooped and he let his head fall into his hands, "Now what?"

    "Can''t we just reforge it?" Syra turned to Razira, "You have blacksmiths, right? How much trouble could that be?"

    "Near impossible," Aidan muffled through his hands. "You forget what it''s made of. Austrum may be called blue steel, but it requires a precise technique to smelt and an even more precise smith. And with the supply of austrum at nill, most of those smiths have changed vocation or relocated."

    "Most, but not all."

    Aidan''s head shot up at Viilah''s correction, "You know of one?"

    "One. And I''m not even sure if he still meddles in austrum."

    "It''s still worth a shot." His eyes pleaded with the siblings, "I know it might be a detour, but that sword is the only way I can help you fight Marrak."

    Petra grumbled to herself, but nodded her approval.

    "Where is this smith?" asked Syra.

    "Dairos."

    Syra flinched. Dairos was one of the cities Valen said harbored the Black Thorn.

    "He''s a halfling named, Weldon." said Viilah, "I used to buy jewelry from him when I was Kaalira. He should help you if you mention that Viivida sent you."

    "We can take you as far as Shrye, but you''ll have to ride to Dairos from there," offered Razilah.

    "But we have nothing to trade."

    "Then take a moraki as a parting gift. One should be enough to rent you some auna and then some."

    "Thank you, Razilah." Aidan took the two halves of metal and bound them up with his cloak.

    "Just promise me you''ll stab that monster Marrak if you get the chance."

    A dark smile split Aidan''s face and he linked a finger around Razilah''s talon, "Happily."

 |Chapter 23| Weaver

    <hr>

    The morakii Razilah gifted them fetched a good price. Despite its small size, they left the settlement of Shrye with rides, extra rations and some change.

    Between Shrye and Dairos laid a sprawling saltmarsh. With its shallow waterways and soggy soil, horses gave way to the use of auna for transportation. The flightless birds were reliable carriers��though Petra''s seemed to think her hair was a berry to be plucked��and their long legs and wide feet skitted the water-logged ground with ease.

    A small outpost offered rest halfway to Dairos, and Syra urged them to stop as the sun was getting low.

    "We can''t afford a room," Aidan reminded her. "We can take a break to eat, but we can''t be too long if we want to reach Dairos before it''s too dark to ride. We''ll camp if we have to." Aidan tied his auna to a railing and dug a ration out of his sack, "Stretch and stuff your face. Then we''re gone."

    "Yes, sir," Petra mocked through a full mouth of bread and meat.

    Syra stretched and pumped her legs, hoping for better circulation in her hindquarters. It was the heavy, acidic stench that drifted on the wind that made her pause.

    "What is that?" She glanced about the green-and-brown plain with nose in the air. "Smells like something''s rotting."

    There were no carcasses as far as she could see, and they were the only people around, save maybe the innkeeper. And as much as she enjoyed the constant breeze, the smell made her stomach turn.

    "I take it this is your first time out this way?" The burly innkeeper leaned against the doorway with an amused grin on his face, his scraggly beard hiding a handsome face.

    "Is it that obvious?"

    He chuckled, "It''s the smell��gets newcomers every time. But you get used to it, I promise."

    "Did something die? Is it the trees or��"

    "You''re near the sea, miss. And it''s low tide, so everything''s going to smell like rotting muck. But, that''s a good thing, too. You''ll make better time without all the flooding."

    "Have you been to Dairos before?" Aidan eyed the man from his bench.

    "Been there? I lived there. Well, at least until a storm took my house. I''m not one to tempt the sea, so I sold everything and moved here." He gave the doorframe of the stilted A-frame a hard pat. "Three storms and still standing."

    "In that case, would you happen to know a smith by the name of Weldon?"

    "You mean the Halfling fella?"

    "That''s right."

    "I''ve heard of him. Before I left, that is. Don''t know if he''s still around, but he''s a damn good smith from what''s been told. Why? You needing a smith?"

    "I...managed to break my sword, and a customer of his recommended him."

    "Oi, that''s too bad about your sword. I do have a selection in the back if you''d like some other options, though."

    A twinkle lit in the man''s eye, but Aidan waved him off.

    "Thank you, but I''d rather have this one. Sentimental value and all."

    "Aye, I understand. Figured it was worth a shot."

    "I am interested to know where this Weldon is located. Dairos is a big city, and I''d hate to get us lost."

    "Well, first you have to get through the gates��they''re a might picky. You all traders? Travelers? Probably soldiers from the look of you." He pointed to the scabbards at their waists.

    "We''re escorting her." Aidan nodded to Syra who looked over with raised brows and meat dangling from her mouth.

    "What''d I do?"

    "She''s a mage," Aidan pointed to his ear and Syra flashed her earring, "and is traveling for her Magus exam."

    "Well, would you look at that," The innkeeper beamed, wide-mouthed. "Pardon my staring. We don''t see many of you around here."

    "It''s quite alright." Syra gave her cute, polite smile.

    "Actually, I could use some of your help, if you don''t mind."

    "Oh? With what?"

    Warning glares flashed from Aidan and the twins, and Syra caught her words behind her teeth.

    Careful, now, Aidan''s eyes said.

    "It''s alright, you don''t have to." The innkeeper caught on to their hesitation and waved the idea away.

    "I''d like to," her voice was honest and sad, "but we''ve had some rough dealings the last couple times we''ve stopped to help people."

    "I see. I''m sorry for that. People...people shouldn''t take advantage of kindness like that."

    They stood in awkward silence as the lines on his face and the setting sun strung at Syra heartstrings.

    "Could you spare a room for the night? In exchange for our help?" Syra met Aidan''s gaze with a raised brow. You did say we couldn''t afford one.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    A smile spread across the man''s face and he cracked a laugh, "If you can help, I''ll give you room, board, and send you to the gates with a sealed Letter of Travel."

    "That''s quite a fair deal," Cassius whispered to Aidan.

    Aidan studied the man. He appeared honest and unassuming, but so did Radstrom and Tilly. But he wore no necklace and there was no sign of branding on his bare arms.

    "What was it you needed help with?"

    The man led them inside the small shanty of an inn and into an area that appeared to be his own quarters. Lying on layers of blankets by a window was a gray ball of fur with large ears that struggled to breathe shallow, raspy breaths.

    "Aw, it''s a kila!" Syra hurried to its side and knelt down to examine the poor thing, restraining herself from petting it. "What happened to it?"

    "That''s the thing, I don''t know." The lines on the man''s brow deepened at the sight of his pet''s condition. "I was hoping you might."

    "I''ve never treated a kila before," she bit down on her lip, "but I think I can at least see what''s wrong."

    She rested her hands atop the kila''s fur and ran them down its body in slow, gentle strokes, feeling for anything that seemed abnormal.

    "Find anything?"

    Syra shook her head, "Everything feels fine, so far. Maybe if I check its throat...perhaps there''s a blockage."

    She slid a hand under the sleeping creature and ran her fingers along its small neck. But instead of her finding a lump, the kila''s needle-like teeth found her hand.

    "Ow!" Syra winced as the rudely awakened furball latched onto the meat of her thumb. She went to pull her hand away, but tiny claws were quick to seize her forearm.

    It growled and spit and raked its hind claws against her arm in repeated bunny-kicks. Blood trickled from multiple lines by the time the innkeeper snatched his pet away.

    "I am so sorry! Are you alright?"

    "Yes, I''m fine. I''ll heal."

    He plopped the kila onto his bed and grabbed a rag for her arm, "Come, you can rinse off over here."

    Syra followed him to a small wash basin where she let him wipe the blood away.

    The man paused abruptly, "Hold on."

    He took a light hold of her wrist for a closer look at the scratch marks. His eyes widened as light seemed to shimmer around the edges of the bloody lines, "You''re not just a mage, are you? You''re...a Lightblood."

    Syra retracted away, confused and startled by his grip.

    "Will that be a problem?" Aidan stepped closer to the man and narrowed his eyes.

    "What? Oh, no." He released Syra''s wrist and handed her the cloth for her to clean herself. "I''m just...surprised, that''s all. It''s my first time ever meeting one." He gave a short laugh and returned to calming his pet who eyed Syra with a death glare.

    "I didn''t feel any lumps," Syra reported once she had scabbed over, "so I think she might just be sick. I can try to treat it, if you''d like."

    "I''d be most grateful, thank you."

    Syra approached the kila a second time, keeping ample distance. She knelt by the bed, hands in her lap. Her eyes closed and she forced her breaths to come long and deep. She focused on her heartbeat, on the thumping in her neck, on the sound of air leaving her nose. She cupped her hands together and warmth began to build inside her palms. Warm. Like her breath. Warm. Like the mana-rich air that tingled her arm hairs. Warm. Like the growing ball of energy that spread from her gut to her chest, then down her arms. Her body hummed and tingled.

    The air became thick like water. Each breath of the room''s occupants sent ripples that washed over her. Some were harsh and hot, like a large campfire.

    There''s Petra...

    Others tepid and calming, like Spring''s sunhigh.

    And Cassius.

    And others more that soothed like an evening breeze on a sweaty brow��her favorite.

    And there''s Aidan.

    She blew a light breath out, as if to separate leaves atop a pond.

    There you are.

    She let the larger ripples fade into the background and focused on the fainter hum that came from the kila''s strained breath and quick heartbeat.

    She raised her hands inches above the kila, feeling the ebb and flow of the waves radiating from its body.

    Let''s see what ailing you.

    Her eyelids slid open like one who was half-asleep. Light was what she saw: a shimmering wash of colors blending one into the other in waves. Yellows, oranges, even blues and white danced together in a halo around the animal. But it was the patch of navy that Syra''s eyes locked onto.

    At the risk of facial scarring, she lowered her nose to the dark spot at its throat and mouth. Its breath was rancid. She was right. Sickness had lodged itself in the creature''s throat and was festering.

    "What is it?" The innkeeper shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from wringing them. "Will she be okay?"

    The sudden sound jarred Syra and she raised a hand for quiet, "I''ll do what I can."

    Sitting up straight, she took a deep breath and stretched out her hands over the creature with splayed fingers. Her fingertips buzzed. With her right thumb and index finger, she pinched at the cold, dark spot and pulled. The kila shivered as a navy line followed Syra''s fingers like needle-and-thread.

    "What is that?" The innkeeper stared wide-eyed at the thin string of light Syra had pulled from the kila''s neck.

    "A Thread." Her voice was distant from concentration, "Why do you think we''re called Weavers?"

    While her right hand kept the thread taught, her left pinched at the deep emerald at its chest, pulling a green thread to meet the blue. With sweeping movements, her hands wove them like a fingerpainter over a canvas, mixing colors as the threads hung in the air.

    When the mosaic was finished, Syra pressed it down until it merged with the halo and disappeared.

    "Will she get better, now?" The innkeeper petted the sleeping creature''s head with a light hand.

    "That''s up to her." Syra leaned back with a heavy sigh. "Disease is more difficult than cuts and scrapes. I can''t simply speed up recovery, I can only tell her body how to fight it and give her strength."

    The man cuddled his pet in his lap and remained silent for a long while.

    "Thank you." He coughed at the knot in his throat. "After the storm took my wife and boy, this little one is all I have left. Even if she''s not strong enough to make it, thank you for trying."

    ***

    Morning brought sore butts, hot breakfast, and an affectionate kila that hopped after Syra wherever she went.

    "Looks like she knows who saved her." The innkeeper laughed as it tried to follow Syra out the front door.

    "No, no. I''m sorry, little one. Your home is here." Syra picked up the squeaking furball and handed it back to its owner. "Make sure she gets plenty of rest and water. She might look chipper, but she''s still recovering."

    "Yes, ma''am."

    He stashed the kila in the bedroom and returned with a letter and a map.

    "Weldon''s shop is here." He pointed to a building near the port that he had circled in ink. "Again, I''m not sure if it''s still there, but I''m sure you can find it if you ask around."

    "Thank you," Aidan folded the map and tucked it into his vest.

    "Let''s go!" Petra called from the road��she and Cassius had already mounted their auna and were pacing.

    "Oh, be patient, we''re coming!" Syra waved them away and brought Aidan his ride.

    "Give this to the guards at the gate," the innkeeper handed the sealed letter up to Aidan, "it''ll give you passage."

    Aidan and Syra dipped their heads and trotted off after the twins.

    "Oh!" The man called, making them stop and turn, "If anyone gives you trouble, just look for someone wearing a bronze coin. Tell them Fin sent you and everything will be taken care of."

    They froze.

    This is Fin? Tilly''s Fin? The Black Thorn member?

    Syra''s stomach lurched.

    Not again. Damnit! I thought I was being smart by finding us shelter, but I just walked us into the dragon''s lair. At least it''s four against one. But what''s he going to do after we''re gone? When we''re alone on an open trail?

    A forced breath calmed the retch inside her.

    He saw me weave��saw my blood. He knows there''s a Lightblood on the way to Dairos, and one raven could...

    Syra gulped and prayed he couldn''t see the shock on their faces. Even more, she hoped Petra hadn''t heard him. But Aidan raised a casual hand and waved, then continued on like nothing was amiss.

    Syra''s hands were trembling, "That''s...I can''t believe��"

    "I know." He kept his voice down as they neared the twins.

    "What do we do?"

    "We find Weldon, and leave. Soon."

    She bit hard on her lip, "We can''t tell Petra."

    "Wasn''t planning on it."

 |Chapter 24| Firestone

    <hr>

    The thick odor of dead fish gave way to the scent of salt and seafoam. Syra nearly forgot about Fin when the breeze from the city''s port hit her full force. She stretched her arms wide, catching the warm air in flared fingers. Her chest filled with the sea mist and her back muscles ached to spread her wings and hover above the breaking waves.

    "Alright, that''s enough sight-seeing," Aidan turned away from the boardwalk to continue down the street, "Weldon''s shop should be down this way."

    Fish and tourism, that''s what drew crowds to Dairos. The temperate waters offered a bounty of seafood, and the city-on-stilts buzzed with music and people from all over. Even now, Syra could see a ship unloading passengers from across the sea to revel in its warm beaches, eclectic food, and the lighthouse that stood proudly on the neighboring island.

    The map led them down a channel lined with boutiques of food and fashion��all of the fanciful kind��and away from the horns and the dancing, and the call of vendors. Away from the creaking wood of the stilted tourist sector, and into the more solid part of town, where the streets were carved from the rocky bed. At the bottom of a small hill, where the cobbled street wound up to the main road, sat a brick cottage. Its shutters were drawn and no smoke graced its wide chimney, but the gold metal work above the door gleaned memories of a better time.

    "Is this it?" Petra poked her nose over the map. "Looks abandoned."

    "Let''s hope not." Aidan tucked the map back into its pocket and gave the door a hard rapping.

    "Excuse me? Is this where we can find a Mr. Weldon?"

    There was no answer. So, he knocked again.

    "Hello?"

    "Please, pardon any interruption," Syra chimed in, "perhaps we are a bit lost. We were told to find a smith named, Weldon. Would you happen to know��"

    The door swung open and a short, square man of dark hair and bronzed face scowled from under a protruding brow.

    "It''s Weldon. Not Mr. Weldon, just Weldon will do. And you''ve come to the right place. Though you caught me napping, so beg pardon."

    "Oh." Syra said a tad taken aback. He was a hair taller than her��quite normal for a halfling��but from his temple to his jaw was wrinkled and leathery, and she caught herself staring. "Well, that''s good to hear. Am I correct to assume you''re still in business?"

    "Aye. What can I do you for?" He gave the party a look-about, noticing their weapons, "Needing some maintenance, are you?"

    "Yes, and no," Aidan said, stepping forward. "Could we talk inside?"

    "By all means, come in. Mind the mess, though. I haven''t gotten to cleaning yet."

    They filed inside and Weldon threw open the shutters to let the light and breeze fill the roomy cabin-and-workshop.

    "Oh, my," Petra halted as the sunlight woke the hilts and blades, even fine cutlery, from their dim slumber, making the walls shine in every color of metal. There was even a cute window where delicate jewelry perched and waited for the next bare hand and lined pocket.

    "Looks like you''ve been busy," Aidan offered an impressed nod to the storefront before following Weldon back into his workshop.

    "Yes, and no. If I were, those walls would be bare. But, Spring''s here, so folks''ll be drunk on warm weather and ale, and I''ll be right here waiting."

    The gleam of polished stone caught Syra''s eye, and she held up the encrusted goblet to Cassius.

    "Cas, look." She pointed to the serpent stamped on the bottom. "It''s one of ours. You think Tarys made it?"

    But Cassius shook his head, "No. He never got a chance to apprentice anywhere. The ban came before he could leave." His gaze fell as he thumbed at the silver inlays. "It''s really a shame, too. He has such a good eye for it."

    "I''m sorry, but that one''s not for sale." Weldon called over, seeing them fawn over the cup. "It''s...a bit of a keepsake I just can''t let go of."

    "A keepsake?" asked Cassius. "But it''s dragonforged. The ban��"

    "The ban is bullshit."

    Surprise tied Cassius'' tongue, but Weldon remained firm.

    "Curse me if you want��the door''s right there��but I never had any trouble from any one of them. Made my work loads easier and, frankly, business was better."

    He took the goblet from Cassius and set it back on the shelf, turning it so the light glinted just right.

    "I was supposed to get my own little apprentice��saved up for him and everything. But then Altaira went and passed that stupid ban and booted ''em all out. Never even got a chance to meet the fella."

    His brow knotted, but a spark returned to Cassius'' eyes and he plopped a firm hand on the man''s shoulder.

    "I''m sure he was looking forward to it, too. And who knows," he glanced back at Aidan and Petra, "maybe one day that will all change."

    "Heh, we can certainly hope. Erd knows we could use that firepower. But for now," he pulled up some chairs to a bench for them to sit and hopped up on his own stool, "what is it exactly you''d be needing?"

    Aidan took the bundle from his back and laid it on the bench, throwing back his cloak to reveal the silver-blue pieces, "I need this fixed."

    The halfling sat stunned a moment. "Well, would you look at that. Haven''t seen that color in quite some time. Where''d you get your hands on these?"

    "Does it matter?"

    He chuckled. "No, suppose not. Just being nosy, is all. But, how in the world did you manage to break it? ''Cause that took some ingenuity."

    His eyes flickered to Syra, "Got into a fight with a morakii. I lost."

    Weldon nodded with smirk, "That would certainly do the trick."

    "Any more questions?" Aidan leaned on the bench top. "We''re kind of in a hurry."

    "Kind of in a hurry? Well, doesn''t that sound a might suspicious? Coming in here with a rare metal saying you''re kind of in a hurry?"

    "Please, Weldon," Syra looked over at him with big eyes, "Viivida said you could help. Was she wrong to send us here?"

    At this his dark eyes widened, "You know Viivida, do you?"

    Syra gave a silent nod, keeping a firm gaze locked onto his.

    He sighed and rubbed a temple as the years caught up with him, "Haven''t seen her in many years. How''s the kria doing?"

    "It''s Viilah, now," Petra butted in.

    "Oh, is it?" He laughed. "Well, send my congratulations next time you see her. Was wondering if that upstart would ever settle down."

    He gave his knees a hard pat and nodded to himself. "Yes. She was correct to send you here. Though, I have to tell you, as much as I would love to work with that sword of yours, I can''t fix it."

    Aidan flared his nostrils, "What do you mean, you can''t fix it? Why not?"

    "It''s austrum."

    "And? Viilah said you knew how."

    "I do know how."

    "Then what''s the problem?"

    "I no longer have the supplies."

    "Whatever you need, we''ll pay for."

    Weldon laughed. "You can''t just buy hot rocks. Not anymore."

    Aidan deflated like a sad balloon. He had never worked with hot rocks personally, but his alchemists were always complaining about how rare they had become in recent years. Even if they could find a seller, they couldn''t afford them.

    "Then we''ll have to go find some," Petra said, standing.

    "You can''t find them, either," Weldon corrected her. "They''re made. Hot rocks��or firestones as you mages call them��require dragonfire to be activated. And they''re the only kindling that burns hot enough to melt austrum. And with no more treaty..."

    "There''re no more firestones." Syra, too, drooped.

    The group sat in silence as they wracking theirs brains for another solution.

    "We''ll get back to you." Aidan stood and dragged everyone back into the storefront.

    "You have an idea?" Syra''s face brightened at the far-off look in his eyes that meant he was onto something.

    "Yes, but we''ll need to get away from all these people. There''s an abandoned mine on the far side of Lighthaven." He pointed on the map to the island with the lighthouse. "We''ll have to take a boat, though."

    "Like hell we are!" spat Petra.

    "Sorry, but it''s the only place close by without a crowd. Wait here."

    Aidan returned to Weldon with a grave face, "If we bring you some firestones, can you promise you''ll fix my sword?"

    Weldon raised a brow and studied him, "Aye. But how are you going to get them?"

    "Never you mind that. Just give us some blanks and we''ll take care of it."

    ***

    The ferry to Lighthaven was particularly crowded this time of day. Perfect for hiding in plain sight. Syra remained seated in the busiest section while the others stood around her, secure in her invisibility. Thirty minutes and a near vomit later they followed the crowd onto the pier and sneaked away down the rocky shoreline.

    "Okay, so what''s this plan of yours?" Petra asked once they had slipped into the mined-out seacave.

    "Shift," Aidan commanded Syra.

    Syra stopped and blinked. She must have heard him wrong.

    "What?"

    "Shift," he repeated. "You''re a dragon. Blast the stones with fire and we''ll be set."

    Cassius and Petra burst out in bittersweet laughter and Syra stiffened.

    You''ve got to be kidding me.

    Confusion washed over Aidan and Syra just sat with her face in her hands.

    "What? It''s a good plan."

    "It would be," Petra said through snorts, "if she could actually breathe fire."

    Aidan paused for a replay, "What do you mean, if she could?"

    "Ugh, why didn''t you just tell us your plan before we got on the boat?" Syra muffled behind her palms.

    We sold our lunch money for nothing. Lovely.

    "W-wait. You''re saying you can''t breathe fire?" Aidan stared down at her drooped form with wagging mouth.

    "Not. One. Spark." Petra threw her head back and breathed a groan. "This is just delicious."

    "But...but you''re a dragon."

    "I am well aware of that, thank you." Syra glared up at him, her anger more at herself than him.

    "Now what do we do?" asked Cassius. "We can''t really go back empty handed."

    "You could always change me back," Petra prodded Syra, a little too happy at their situation.

    Syra went to wave her away, but stopped, "Maybe."

    "Wait, really?" Petra''s face became suddenly serious.

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    "I said, maybe." Syra slipped off her pack and rummaged through it. "I know how to make a shapechange spell, but I''m not so sure how to break one."

    She reached the bottom of her pack and squealed, throwing the bag.

    "What? What is it?" Petra grabbed up the bag and immediately put it back down. "Nope. Not touching it."

    "Give me that," Aidan went to grab it, but Syra shooed him away.

    "It''s okay. It just startled me, is all."

    She reached into the bag and pulled out the little blue bookworm.

    "How in the world did you make it all this way?" She cooed to the worm that wiggled its pincers up at her.

    "What the hell is that thing?" Aidan scrunched his face at the grub.

    "A bookworm. It��"

    Sharp pain shot through Syra''s arm and her body jolted.

    "What? What happend?"

    "Whathehe..." Her speech slurred and her vision went fuzzy. A warm tingling flowed from her arm down her body and she looked down to see the worm''s pincers dung into the meat of her forearm.

    "I thought you said they didn''t bite," Petra held a laugh at Syra''s drunken expression.

    "Iwushrong."

    All feeling was gone and she couldn''t tell if she was sitting or standing. Light and colors blurred together until her vision was nothing but a gray fog.

    "Petra? Cassius?" She called out, but her voice was faint and echoed into the mist.

    The light dimmed and she was left in a sea of dark blues and grays. Then there came the sound of waves, and wind through grass, then pale light reflecting off the mist. Beyond the mist she could pick out a shoreline. And, if she squinted, she could see two figures standing some ways from the waterline.

    "Hello?"

    Her voice was swallowed by the waves and mist, so she walked closer.

    Caught in the moonlight, she made the figures out to be a man and a large serpent having what looked to be an argument.

    "Here''s where I make the deal."

    Syra jumped at the voice so close beside her. She looked all around but saw no one.

    "Big mistake, I found out."

    Then she looked down. Sitting comfortable on her arm was the bookworm, its big eyes watching the scene play out like an old man watching re-runs.

    "W-what?"

    The worm looked up at her, "That''s me��the serpent about to get his tail beat. Can''t you tell? Come, let''s get closer."

    Syra moved further ashore and she could hear them boast and challenge each other.

    "Are you sure you''re up to this?" The man, Talian from what Syra could see, stood nose-to-snout with a long, frilled serpent on short legs. "I won''t go easy on you."

    "This is my territory. I will not be frightened off by you or your fancy books."

    "It is not the books themselves that make me strong," the Tal warned, "but what is inside them. You''d be wise not to dismiss them."

    "I''ll take my chances."

    The serpent hissed and flared its fins, and the Tal''s hands began to glow. Back and forth the battle went: brute strength and fire meeting barriers and calculated spells, until the serpent lied gasping and bloodied on the beach.

    "Do you admit defeat?"

    The serpent hissed and puffed its throat in protest, but could not rise.

    "I should have just swam off and left him," the worm said, "but I was too proud."

    The serpent turned its head to the Tal''s bag of books and supplies farther inland and craned its head. Its jaws gaped open and flames shot from its mouth, igniting the pile.

    "So powerful, your books, yet so frail," it sneered.

    The Tal fumed, but remained still, "As you wish."

    He held out two glowing hands and swept them through the air. Lines of all colors followed his fingers and wrapped around the serpent.

    "He''s a Weaver." Syra watched wide-eyed as the Tal bound the serpent like a spider with its prey. As the threads tightened, light enveloped the serpent until it lost all definition. Then it shrank, wiggled, and shrank more. When the light faded, Syra stood over a tiny blue worm that writhed in angry twitches.

    "To live off the books you so detest, that shall be your punishment," said the bookworm from Syra''s arm. "That''s what he said before he stuffed me in his bag and dumped me in that library."

    "Why are you showing me this?" Syra asked as the visage faded.

    "You''re a mage, correct? You made that locator spell with my..." he cleaned his mandibles from awkwardness, "with my help. I only ask that you repay the favor by changing me back."

    "Changing you back? I can''t even change my own sister back, and I''ve seen that spell before. I''m clueless as to yours."

    "That''s fine. I''ll show you."

    "You''ll show me?"

    "I didn''t spend my imprisonment sleeping under rugs. If you provide the power, I''ll guide you. I''ll even activate those firestones of yours as a thank you. Deal?"

    The worm stretched itself upwards and waved its pincers, as if asking for a hand shake.

    I don''t have much of a choice.

    She tapped it with a fingertip and the mist evaporated, leaving her to stare up into Cassius nostrils.

    "She''s up!" Cassius helped her to sit up and Syra winced from the ache in her arm.

    "Did you really have to bite me?" she asked the grub now curled up in her lap.

    Consider it pay back for making me vomit, Its voice echoed in her head. Now can we get to work? I''d hate to be eaten by one of the damned sea birds after all this time.

    "Alright, alright. Let me get my supplies."

    "Who are you talking to?" Petra asked as Syra grabbed parchment and quill from her bag.

    "Him." She pointed at the worm.

    Hello. The worm waved its hindend.

    "He says, hi."

    "He says...what?"

    "Don''t ask. Just bear with me."

    Syra laid out the parchment and readied her quill, "Alright, so how do I do this?"

    You''re going to have to reveal the spell before you can unravel it. So, it should look something like this.

    The worm wriggled in the dirt and sand, using his body and pincers to draw out the correct symbols��as best a worm could do anyways��and Syra followed along with her quill. She held the tag above the worm, preparing to activate it, but voices made her stop.

    From outside the cave mouth, boots scuffed and two men''s voices grew louder as they argued.

    "Are you sure they went this way? I sure didn''t see anybody."

    "That''s what the ferryman said: the woman in a blue cloak went this way."

    "That could be anyone. Do you know how popular a color that is?"

    "Yeah, but Fin said she had other people with her. And so did the ferryman."

    "Shit." Aidan waved frantic arms at Syra as the men''s shadows crept into the cave. "Go. Hide."

    Syra grabbed her pack and the bookworm, "What about you?"

    "I''ll take care of it. Just stay quiet."

    She dashed on light feet further down the mine and hid behind a large boulder. From her shelter, she heard shuffling and then Petra''s muffled yelp. She peeked between the boulder and the wall to see Cassius'' shirt undone and hanging, with Aidan laying on top of Petra, his face in her neck.

    "What the hell are you doing?" Petra hushed, her face flushing.

    "Just go with it."

    "Is that them?" One man whispered as they entered and spotted the three entangled youths.

    "We''re gonna find out."

    Sure-footed and huffing from their hike, the men strode into the mine. Men garbed in brown capes and silver banners. Guards. Both wore bronze coins.

    "Hey!" One called, "What do you folks think you''re doing? This place is private property."

    Aidan lifted his head from Petra''s neck and turned a glare to them, "Not private enough, apparently. Ever hear of knocking?"

    Good thinking, Aidan.

    Though Syra wasn''t too delighted to see him in such a position with her sister.

    Hey! Now''s your chance, said the worm, bobbing in her hands, Break the spell while they''re distracted. Hurry.

    She could hear Petra snapping back at the men, now, too.

    Good. It''ll be a while before she shuts up.

    Pricking her thumb on her blade, Syra pressed it to the paper she had wrapped around the worm.

    Let''s hope this works.

    The writing shimmered and the parchment glowed, tightening around the worm. Tears frayed from the paper''s edges and it began to crinkle and twist.

    This...doesn''t feel so good. The worm twitched as the paper wrapped and twisted tighter and tighter around the grub.

    "Just hold on. Almost got it." Syra pinched at the glowing script as the letters wriggled and lifted off the page. As she pulled them from the paper, threads came with them. String after string, they hovered in the air and the paper twisted into tube, until they looked like filaments from some deep-sea cnidarian.

    Any day, now. The worm squeaked, losing breath from the paper''s grip.

    "Last one," Syra searched the paper for the final rune and plucked it.

    The paper unfurled and broke apart, as if dissolving in water. Left behind, the threads waved, twisted, and wove together, until a tapestry of light hovered above the worm.

    "Hey, what''s that?" One guard looked to the back of the cave where light reflected off the walls.

    "What?" Aidan feigned ignorance.

    "That light over there."

    Aidan scoffed, "The ocean''s right there, dumbass. It''s a reflection."

    But the man would not be fooled that easy, "Oh, that''s no reflection. I know weaving when I see it."

    "Worth a shot." Aidan dropped the act and jumped to his feet.

    The twins drew their weapons and Aidan slid two daggers from his vest, all three blocking the men from continuing down the mine.

    "Well, if that''s how you want it," The guards took up their own arms and the sound of clanging metal echoed down into the cave.

    Syra itched to run and fight, but her fingers were busy plucking and untangling the knot of threads from around the worm.

    "This thing is huge." She bit into her cheek and cursed the strings waving in her face.

    Keep going. You''re halfway done.

    The clanging grew louder, panting heavier, and the shuffling more erratic. Even without looking, Syra could tell the fight wasn''t easy. With each thread loosened, the closer the fight drew inwards.

    They''re losing.

    Focus! It''s working.

    The skirmish was on the other side of the boulder now and Syra could smell the dust and blood in the air. She heard Petra''s huffs and Aidan''s grunts, and felt the thud of heavy feet on the ground. She tasted metal at her cheek, but she plucked on, and the glow from the worm expanded and brightened.

    "There she is!"

    A guard shoved Aidan past the boulder and lunged for her. But Petra''s hand was quick and it sliced upward, cutting at his cheek and making him flinch away.

    Syra forced her eyes downward and her hands shook.

    One. Last��

    The final knot slipped apart and a rush of wind knocked everyone on their asses.

    "What the hell was that?" A guard coughed and picked himself up. "Where''s the girl?"

    "She''s right here."

    A deep rumble filled the cave. But what faced them was not a girl, but a glowering serpent with bared teeth mere feet from their faces.

    "But you cannot have her."

    The fins at the serpents head and neck flared and quivered, creating a hissing noise. A warning.

    "I, on the other hand, am famished."

    Swords fell from shaking hands and the guards were quick to make an exit. But not quick enough for a hungry Moruleis��particularly one that had not eaten a true meal in decades. The flames caught them first. Then the snapping jaws that cut their screams short and filled the cavity with the sound of crunching bone and the smell of a fresh kill.

    Pale horror slithered over Aidan''s face as he watched the serpent''s throat and belly bulge as the men were swallowed in whole chunks.

    "T-taste good do they?"

    "Not really," the serpent fastened his jaw back into place. "Had better. But beggars can''t be choosers." He paused at their shocked stares, "You did want them gone, correct? Or did I jump to conclusions?"

    "No, no," Aidan waved him away, "That was...that was an appropriate action. I suppose."

    "Good. Now, bring me those firestones. As grateful as I am for your help, I am eager to return home."

    Syra poured the clear crystals from a pouch out onto the cave floor, "A few breaths should be enough."

    They watched from a safe distance as the jet of flames washed over the pile of stones. They glowed with heat at first. Then shone white, and tiny vortexes swirled and sucked the flames into the depths of their cores, turning them a deep orange. When the stones could store no more, the serpent closed his mouth.

    "Satisfied?"

    Syra knelt by the pile, their warmth radiating like hot coals, "Yes, this should do. Thank you...?"

    "Pel," the serpent finished before turning away from the cave.

    "Those guards were after you," Aidan said to Syra as they watched Pel wade into the surf and disappear below the waves, the flick of his tail his final parting. "We have to be more careful. More careful who sees us, and who we help." He gave her a stern eye and she looked down at the sand.

    "You mean who I help."

    "Sorry. That''s just how it is right now. Until we finish this mission."

    She cursed herself under her breath, "Understood."

    By the time they were rested the stones had cooled enough to be gathered into their pouch, and they made the uphill hike back towards the ferry, and back to Weldon''s shop.

    ***

    Pleasant surprise sprung from the grin on Weldon''s face as he peered into the pouch, "Well, alright then."

    He stood, grabbed his apron from its hook, and shuffled over to the wide-mouthed furnace without another word.

    "You''re not going to ask where we got them?" Aidan asked.

    "Should I?"

    Their mouths clamped shut.

    "Now," Weldon continued, "before I get started, I will need payment upfront."

    "Payment?"

    "This is my job."

    Aidan sighed, "Of course." He paused, then unlatched the silver chain from his neck, letting the diamond ring fall into his hand.

    Syra''s eyes bulged.

    He still has it? This whole time? And that sentimental little git had the nerve to call me mopey.

    "Is this enough?" Aidan asked, holding out the ring.

    Weldon glanced between the ring and Syra''s shocked face, "You sure about that?"

    "Yes," he said without hesitation. "Now, can you fix it?"

    Syra''s face fell flat.

    So much for sentimental.

    Weldon took the ring and stuffed it into a pocket, "Have a seat."

    Weldon lifted the sword halves from a drawer and set them on a bench. With painstaking accuracy, he measured each side, each curve, going as far as to trace the original design down to the small, round hole near the hilt.

    "Would you like me to mount that stone, too?" Weldon asked Aidan without looking up.

    "Stone? What stone?"

    "The one danglin'' from your neck, of course! The morakii one. It''s rough, but meant to be mounted."

    "That''s the one Baba gave you," Syra hushed. "Maybe that''s what she meant by giving you protection."

    "Oh, it can protect you alright." Weldon shook his quill feather at Aidan''s face, "Provided you know how to swing the thing."

    Aidan waved him away with a smirk, "I think I can manage."

    "What will it do exactly?" asked Syra. "It''s a morakii so I''m assuming it''s magical in nature?"

    "Cuts barriers. The sparkly, magical kind." He eyed Syra, "I''m sure you know of them."

    "That''s amazing!"

    Syra''s trill made him flinch.

    "How long have you had it? The stone?" he asked Aidan, refocusing.

    "Almost a moon now, I guess."

    "Eh, that''s not great, but it''ll do as personal protection. Won''t get you into any city vault, but treat it like a favorite pet and it''ll get stronger over time."

    He leaned over to Syra before the questions came out, "Feeds off your mana--the more attuned it is, the stronger."

    "That''s amazing," she whispered this time.

    Maybe this can give us an edge on fighting Marrak. He''s bound to use barriers if he''s an archmage--strong ones, too. I just hope this sword will be strong enough.

    Syra tried to keep from squirming as Weldon fired and folded the metal pieces again and again. But the room grew hot and the sky dark, and her tailbone lost its feeling to the hard seat.

    Weldon let his hammer fall with a heavy thud before he groaned back at them, "You know, you don''t have to stay and watch. I prefer you not, actually. You might as well get yourselves a room next door and come back in the morning. I should have it ready by then. Just tell them I sent you, and they''ll take care of you."

    Aidan could have waited there silently all night, but the siblings were quick to leave their seats.

    "Oi, swordsman," Weldon called Aidan over as they went to leave.

    "I can''t be taking this," he handed the ring back over to him. "My old lady would beat me silly."

    "But you need some sort of payment."

    "That would be preferable, but if that''s all you got��"

    "Here," Aidan took one of the daggers from his vest and set it on the bench, "how about this?"

    "Ooh, I like this," Weldon''s eyes lit from the dagger''s intricate hilts and fine engravings, "I''ll take this."

    Aidan gave him a pat on the shoulder and gripped the ring, "Thank you."

    "Don''t be thanking me, you just take care of her, you hear? No sense in wasting a good thing. Or you''ll end up like me, alone, in a...barn, somewhere��I don''t know, just don''t be stupid. And get out. Go to bed. I''m busy."

    Aidan stifled a laugh and left the old halfling to his hammer and his rods, and his grumblings of youngins today. But he kept the ring tight in his hand, and Weldon''s words��however misspoken��tight in his chest.

    ***

    While the comped room was refreshing for the others, the nightmares found Syra that night. And they were spiteful in their vividness.

    The rain stung. The downdrafts rank with bloodscent and charring. Black smoke merged with dark clouds churning overhead. Screams and roars battled over thunder. The roars fading with every flash of arrow loosed.

    She ran.

    Away from the empty lair. Away from calls cut short. Away from the armored swarm that crawled up the valley and the hovering shadow that led them.

    She ran.

    Down the mountainside slick with mud stained red. Down familiar trails that tripped and bruised bare feet on snickering stones. Past the treeline that became ever more crystaline.

    "Syra," the thunder boomed. The billowing shadow loomed after her, jowls hot with lightning.

    "Go away!"

    She ducked into thickets, ignoring scratches and pulled hair. But the red eyes bared down through the canopy.

    "Just leave me alo--"

    Wet leaves gave way underfoot. Down she slid. Down until the canyon''s edge rose to meet her. She grappled rock and root and skidded to face the river''s scar. A mile below her waited the falls'' gnashing waves. A mile above, the storm stalked closer.

    Lightning flashed above her.

    "Wake up," called the lightning.

    She jumped, searching the sky against the rain.

    A spark zipped its way down and hovered inches from her chest.

    An evening bug?

    An angry wind shook her eyes to the roaring serpentine cloud, its wings spanning the horizon.

    She froze.

    "Now!" The golden wisp rammed into her chest.

    Her heart jolted. Sharp, hot needles surged through her chest and every vessel. Her skin burned. And she fell back. Away from the forest and into the maws of stone.

    Above her watching, hovered the wisp. "It''s time to wake up."

 |Chapter 25| Manarail

    <hr>

    "Wake up," Aidan said, poking Syra in the chest, "it''s time to go. The Manarail leaves in an hour."

    A groggy Syra sat up to see everyone else dressed and finishing breakfast.

    "We''ll be outside," said Cassius as he left with Petra.

    "You alright?" Aidan asked, sitting down next to her. "You squirmed all night."

    He rested a hand on hers and she started at the sudden contact.

    "Sorry." He pulled it away.

    "No, it''s okay. It..." she grabbed hold again, "it helps."

    "Nightmares again?"

    She nodded and picked at the pilling quilt.

    "I thought they were gone, but these were so...vivid. Way more than usual. I could feel everything, like it was really happening. Like he was actually there."

    Her fingers shook and he draped a gentle arm around her.

    "But you''re here. You''re okay. Given all the shit that''s going on, I''d say it''s quite normal for those fears to come back. Plus, you did get bit by that bookworm yesterday--could be some leftover venom in your system."

    "Yeah, that''s probably true." She chuckled and massaged her sore forearm that still stung when pressed the right way.

    "How about you tell me about it while we''re on the train? The others are waiting and there''s food downstairs--they have bacon."

    His smile and gentle nudging--and the smell of seared meat--eased her mind, but the little wisps'' voice still echoed in its far corners.

    ***

    "Here you go! Just like new." Weldon spun the hilt in his hand before handing it over to Aidan. "Hope you don''t mind that I shined it up a bit. Such a beauty deserves the extra care."

    "Not at all." Aidan''s flat face crinkled from the excitement he reigned in, but it fooled no one. The boy was absolutely giddy.

    "Now, you take better care of that, sir. Can''t have your crazy antics giving my work a bad rep."

    "Yes, sir." Aidan took some practice swings then dipped his head low, "Thank you, again. I won''t forget it."

    "So, now that you''ve got your trusty sword back, where''re you heading off to? If you don''t mind more questions, of course."

    "North," Aidan said, sheathing the blade, "we''re heading north."

    "Still vague, I see." He smirked. "No, that''s good. That''s careful��heavens know you can''t afford not to be these days."

    He puffed his chest and stretched his back which had tightened over the hours tending the bench, "Best be off with you, then. The Manarail leaves soon, so you better scurry if you don''t want to walk the whole way."

    They turned to exit but Weldon waved Syra back over, "Oi, magical girl."

    "Yes?" she muffled through the last bite of her second muffin.

    He drew close with a serious eye, "You best be careful out there, you hear? I don''t know where you got them hot rocks, but there are some shady people around here that I wouldn''t be messing around with."

    "Shady people?"

    Is he talking about...

    He pointed to the scar on his face, "People who will burn your face for disagreeing with them."

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    "People did that to you?"

    She had thought it an accidental wound��a fight lost to hot metal due to a loose grip or unsteady footing. Now standing closer, she noticed the imprint of a coin at his jaw.

    "The Black Thorn?"

    "Aye, you heard of them?"

    "Unfortunately."

    "In that case I advise you keep a low head. Some of them have a peculiar interest in you magic folk, and they are not to be trifled with. Got their hands in many pockets and birds in every ear. And if you''re heading north, then you''re only going to find more of them."

    Just lovely. Barely into human territory and already being hunted. Guess I shouldn''t be surprised by now.

    "That''s good to know, thank you. I''ll certainly keep it in mind."

    ***

    Along Dairos'' northern border was the city''s business district��with its narrow roads, sky bridges that fluttered with Kiithran merchants, and people whose mouths were as fast as their feet��and at its heart lied the Manarail. A gleaming beauty of engineering and alchemical ingenuity, the train hovered above its austrum railing, humming and waiting amidst the exchange of boxes and bodies.

    "There''s so many." Cassius scanned the crowded station of passengers filing into the cars. "How are we going to get by unnoticed?"

    "We don''t. Not up here." Aidan turned away from the crowd and motioned for them to follow.

    They drew away from the lines of impatient passengers and followed the train further down the line. While paying passengers enjoyed the luxury of the front cabins, cargo��and the occasional hitchhiker��found their seats in the tail cars at the back. Luckily, the buzzing patrons were too preoccupied with themselves and their pressing timetables to even notice the figures ducking behind stacks of crates and through back alleys.

    "This way." Aidan scampered around the rear of the train when the loading crews had retreated back to their docks.

    Keeping to the brush and treeline, they crept car by car until they found one with open bay doors. Standing outside the crate-filled car was a guard with his nose to a tally sheet.

    "I''ll distract him while you climb on."

    Aidan slunk from the bushes and padded up behind the guard. When he was close, he made a loud dash for the car.

    "Hey! What do you think you''re doing?" The guard dropped his tally sheet and grabbed Aidan by the cloak, dragging him off the car. "No stowaways!"

    He threw Aidan to the ground, but he rolled to his feet and drew his sword.

    "I''m getting on that train." Aidan smirked and taunted the guard to close in on him, giving the others space to sneak past.

    "Like hell you are." The guard drew a small, shiny object from the chord under his shirt��a whistle.

    "Shit." Aidan dashed for it, but the whistle met his lips first.

    A whisper of air made the whistle chirp, but it whined and died as the guard''s eyes rolled back and his body sagged.

    Aidan froze, then laughed. Smirking up at him from behind the guard, Syra stood with shimmering fingers wrapped around his head. She released him and let him fall with a thud.

    "Sleeps like a rock, that one."

    The Manarail blew a loud, long warning, making them all jump.

    "Quick, put him over there." Aidan helped Syra drag the guard to a tree.

    "His officer isn''t going to be happy." Syra propped him up with his head back and mouth open.

    "His fault for sleeping on the job."

    They left the guard to his slumber and hopped into the car, closed the door and hid in a small nook behind stacked crates that smelled like dirt and onions. There was another whistle and the humming grew louder as faint vibrations ran through the floor. With a slight jerk, the image outside the window began to change as they pulled away from the station.

    Muscles relaxed as the trees outside became blurred, and Syra rested her head back against the wooden pallets.

    "Well, we made it."

    "Now, where are we going?" Petra asked as she slid to a seat.

    "To Koth."

    "Obviously," Petra stretched out her legs, claiming her section of the nook. "But Koth is even further north than our territory. I doubt this human machine goes that far."

    "It won''t," Aidan said, "But it will get us close. Close enough to walk, at least. If we ride it all the way up, it''ll take us to Crescent Bay, which is right on the border of the Nordlands. Until then," he plopped his pack into his lap, "we wait."

    Petra let out a long sigh and squirmed, "My rump is going to be so sore after this."

    The Manarail made short stops at the towns of Tryst and Stone Grove, but only to exchange passengers it seemed. The gentle rocking and whir beneath them settled their nerves, and a ration later��or two in Petra''s case��sent them all nodding.

    It was the low rumble and hard braking that jolted them awake as the Manarail slowed.

    "Are we there?" asked Petra.

    "No," Aidan rose to peek out the window. "No, it''s too soon. We must be stopping again."

    But they did not stop. There was a clacking of gears and the shift of weight as the train changed course to the right. To the left, past rolling hills in the distance, the old capital of Cree sat by its wide river, and burned.

    Aidan and Syra sprung to the window to see the plumes of smoke paint the skyline a sick gray.

    "So much for going north," Syra whimpered as the smoking city and their track north disappeared behind hill and forest.

    "They''re probably just taking a detour." Aidan sat back down. "I can''t imagine it being safe for passengers right now."

    "What could''ve happened? Cree''s a big city. How can it just catch on fire like that?"

    "I''ll give you one guess."

    Syra huddled into her spot in the corner and they went quiet.

    Cree''s a big city, she repeated to herself. Next to Dairos, it''s the largest on the whole west coast. Yet, it was taken out like a Flameweaver to a hay stack.

    She chewed her lip. Marrak must really be that strong. To take out Altaira, now Cree. Not even Rozenfall could stand up to him.

    She froze.

    "Aidan, you said they were taking a detour, right?"

    "Most likely, yes. Why?"

    "Remind me, what city is east of Cree?"

    Aidan''s jaw tensed and his shoulders drooped, "Rozenfall."

 |Chapter 26| Songstress

    <hr>

    Mana leaked from Syra''s body before they even reached Rozenfall''s station. She stared at out the window at the city with its blossoming treeline and crowded bridges straddling the river. A breeze sprinkled the air in petals and painted the world pink. But the air was sour in her throat and the floor silent and cold under her feet.

    "Valen was right," she said, digging her last mana stone from her pocket, "there''s nothing here." She flopped to the floor and drained the last sparks from the cleared stone. "We can''t stay here long."

    "Doesn''t look like we have much of a choice," Aidan said, surveying the city from the window. "The Manarail is our only way out, so we''re stuck until it leaves."

    Petra groaned and stretched a leg against a crate, "So, what? We just sit and wait?"

    "Yes. This is Black Thorn Headquarters, remember? Valen specifically told us not to come here."

    Petra grumbled and attempted a better slipping position, "I hate hiding."

    "What if we have to...relieve ourselves?" Cassius earned himself raised brows as he tried to hide his fidgeting.

    "Are you serious?" asked Aidan.

    "It has been a long ride."

    "Lovely."

    Aidan peeked out the window, but only saw guards clustered by the head-end speaking with the engineer. "Alright, hit the bushes and come right back." He slid the door open enough for Cassius to squeeze through.

    As Cassius vanished behind the foliage, voices came from beyond the opposite bay door.

    "...and make sure all the crates are accounted for this time."

    "Shit." Aidan and Syra jumped as the latch unlocked.

    "Move. Now." Aidan grabbed their packs and they slipped through the door just before the other flung open.

    They scurried into the brush down the hill from the train, catching Cassius bare-bunned.

    "What the hell?" Cassius flushed and scrambled to fix himself.

    "Sorry, Cas," Syra averted her eyes and crouched behind the bush. "They''re checking inventory, so we had to bail."

    "How long will that take?"

    "I don''t know. That car was pretty full. But, as long as we can stay still and quiet, we should be fi��"

    The clatter of falling gravel cut her off as her weight shifted backwards. The rocks underfoot gave. Her ankle twisted. And she toppled over, skidding and rolling down the muddy slope towards the street below.

    "Damn it." Aidan leapt from the bush and half-ran, half-slid down the hill after her with the twins a few strides behind.

    Syra was a slick brown mess by the time she stopped sliding.

    "Are you alright?" Aidan skidded down beside her. He bit his tongue to keep from laughing. Her face looked like a toddler had taken chocolate icing to it. "You look ridiculous."

    "Yes, I''m fine." Red shown through the smears of mud and she shoved herself to her feet. But her ankle screamed at any added weight and she almost lost her balance a second time.

    "Hang on, now," he hooked an arm around her shoulders. "That foot doesn''t look fine. Not the way you''re standing on it."

    "It''s fine. I''ll heal." Syra pulled away and hobbled the rest of the way down the hill.

    Just perfect. Right when I can''t afford to get hurt.

    "Let''s just find a washroom and get back on the damn train."

    "Excuse me, miss!" a voice called from down the street.

    Great. Now what?

    "Miss? Are you alright?" The man running towards them wore an apron and smelled of pipe smoke. But, his face seemed kind under its premature creases. "You took a nasty spill, there."

    "Yes. Just...landed wrong." She held her foot just above the ground.

    "Well, that''s not good. Best we take a look at it." He sat himself down on the hillside.

    "Pardon?"

    "Boot." He tapped her calf. "Gotta see what I''m working with."

    "''What you''re working with?''"

    The man looked up at Aidan, "Did she hit her head, too?"

    "He wants to see your ankle," said Aidan, keeping a watchful eye on him.

    "Oh. Oh! I''m sorry." Syra slipped off her boot with some wincing, "I guess I did get a bit jostled."

    He gave her ankle a thorough look-over, but it was already red and starting to swell.

    "Pretty bad sprain, you got there. But you look healthy enough, so it should spring back in no time. Just keep off it a while."

    "You a medic?" Aidan asked, surprised, as he helped Syra strap the boot back on.

    ��Bartender,�� he said with a chuckle, ��but I do know a fine medic. Fixed my shoulder up real nice. He��s a short walk from here, if you��d like me to show ya.��

    ��No, it��s quite alright, thank you." Aidan offered Syra a hand up, eager to return to the shadows of the nook, "Like you said, she should spring right back.��

    ��Suit yourself. Just be careful going back up there. Wouldn��t want them guards to catch ya on a lame foot.��

    Aidan paused and kept his gaze down, waiting for the man��s next words to decide if actions were necessary.

    ��It��s alright.�� The man softened and took a step back, just in case, ��I see folks like you all the time��comin�� and goin�� when patrols are down. A pity, really, but that��s what they get for overchargin��.��

    ��Then you know we can��t stick around.��

    ��Certainly. But,�� he pointed up the hill where the cars were being unloaded, ��you��re not gonna be sneakin�� back on any time soon.��

    Damn it, Syra cursed herself and chewed her lip.

    Well, we can��t stay here��not in the open. But, the man has a point. Either way we��d have to wait for the car to be emptied��and refilled for that matter��and I''m certainly in no shape to run should things go wrong.

    She glanced to Aidan and even he wore the face of reluctant acceptance.

    ��Can he be quick?�� he asked.

    ��Most good medics are.��

    Aidan looked up at the train swarming with crewman, then back down at Syra with her little foot in the air. ��Alright, but we don��t have anything to offer him.��

    ��No one ever does.��

    Tanner, as he introduced himself, made a point to keep to the quieter streets and alleys��a feat that earned him some trust. Even with Syra��s healing skills, hobbling on short legs made the walk longer than was comfortable.

    ��How much farther?�� Aidan asked when they passed the square.

    ��Not much. It��s that building right there.�� Tanner motioned to a tall, wide building with steam puffing from its top. ��Think you��ll make it?�� He grinned down at the mud goblin whose face scrunched in determination to walk for herself.

    ��I��ll be fine.�� Despite the land��s drain on her, Syra forced her body to heal and soon limped unaided.

    In looking down at her, Tanner noticed the hoop atop her ear, ��So, why would a mage need to sneak on the train? Aren''t you people nobility or something?��

    Syra looked up, but said nothing.

    Too risky. Just keep your mouth shut.

    ��Got it," Tanner said, sensing her unease. "I used to be a soldier myself once,�� he tapped the hole in his own ear, ��on my way to my second bar. Got kicked out when I decked my captain in the face.��

    ��Are you stupid?�� Syra gawked up at him, causing him to laugh a tad too loud.

    ��You know, you Inner Ring folk always ask that.��

    "For good reason--it''s your captain!"

    ��Yeah, well, titles don''t mean much." The lines at his brow deepened.

    "We were out on patrol, one night��standard rounds. And we came across this little boy, all scuffed up and dirty, and he starts begging for food. Now, these kids were nothing new, I��d seen plenty growing up. Unfortunately. But, this one was just starting to lose the baby fat, so he had been thrown away recently. So, I kneel down and ask for his name and where he was from, if he could remember. And then right by the side of my face, a boot comes flying by and nails the kid in the gut. Sends him flying. So, I look up, about to rail on whoever was next to me, and I look, and it��s my own captain. ''Sorry leeches should just die already,�� he says. I swear, my hands never felt so good bleeding.��

    ��So, you were discharged because you were doing your job?��

    ��My job was to take the kid to a safehouse and report it, which I did later. I got discharged because I beat the shit out of a commanding officer.��

    ��But he got discharged, too, right?��

    A sick chuckle left his lips, ��Nope. ��Disciplinary Leave��. So, I get the boot for standing up for the kid, and he gets to go back to the streets after six months�� probation. This city really has gone to shit.��

    Syra went silent. Never during her time in the cityguard did she see��or even hear��of such things. There was stealing and fighting, yes, but mostly by bored kids or drunk people. And never did a vassal attack a child, especially not one vowed to protect them.

    How did I not see this?

    ��I got booted, too,�� Syra said softly and pointed to her earring. "This is just a keepsake."

    Tanner raised a brow, ��For what? Must��ve been pretty bad for them to kick out a mage.��

    ��You could say that.�� She chewed her words, ��They��didn��t like my family.��

    ��Why the hell not?��

    ��Because she didn��t have one,�� Aidan said, taking the opportunity to end the conversation before it got too personal.

    Tanner faltered and his eyes fell on her with new sympathy, ��A throwaway?��

    Syra nodded without a sound.

    He stopped and gripped her shoulder, a sad smile on his face. A flurry of words stormed behind his eyes, but he only managed two: ��Me too.��

    ***

    Tanner led them to a large distillery that waded into a dredged tributary. Its wheels clunked in the river as its metal trunks spewed steam. Slipping into the alleyway, his rapping on the alley door brought a woman to greet them.

    ��Well, hello there, Tanner. I was wonderin'' when I��d be seeing you again. How��s the bar?��

    ��Not too bad, not too bad. Same grumblings, as usual.��

    ��I see.�� Sonya paused to give the guests a wandering eye, ��And who might these strangers be? Haven��t seen them around here before.��

    ��They had a bit of a mishap on the train earlier, and one of ��em hurt her ankle pretty bad. I was hopin�� we could get it looked at.�� He stepped aside for her to give Syra a look-about.

    Despite Syra''s healing attempts, Sonya sucked her teeth at the black bruising swallowed her foot, ��Well, that''s a right''n''proper mess, ain''t it? Best we get it looked at quickly. Come on in, dears. And mind your heads��there''re pipes everywhere down here.��

    She led them down a hallway and past a large room where workers tended a metal vat.

    ��Good Lord, what��s that smell?�� Cassius covered his nose from the strong, musky odor.

    ��Arrun oil.�� Petra hushed, not liking the look or smell of things.

    ��Very good!�� Sonya turned an impressed grin to her. ��This is Rozenfall��s distillery. Many of Tanner��s drinks come from here, but we specialize in Arrun extraction and distillation as the grove is so close by.��

    Syra nearly screamed.

    Would leaving now be too suspicious?

    Farther down the hall, Sonya stopped above a flight of stairs, ��Now, I will tell you that he is in a meeting right now, so you might have to wait a while. Is that alright?��

    ��Sure, sure. Thank you, Sonya.�� Tanner said and invited them down the steps to another door.

    ��Tanner?�� Aidan asked, keeping his distance. ��Why is a medic holed up in a basement?��

    Tanner tapped his ear again, ��He wasn��t welcomed, either.��

    The long hall of metal pipes brought them to an open room where hot air stirred amidst boilers and hissing valves. Crowded inside were people, mostly farmers and merchants, some soldiers, and a handful of sailors.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Syra''s skin chilled.

    We need to leave.

    ��Are you sure we should be here?�� Syra whispered up at Tanner, who seemed quite comfortable with the setting.

    ��You��ll be fine. We��ll just wait until everyone leaves, and then take care of that foot.��

    Tanner kept them to the back wall as to not disturb the gathering, but Syra eyed the group gathered around one man standing atop a make-shift platform.

    ��Who��s that?�� She craned her head for a better view.

    ��Oh, that��s Marrak��the medic I was talking about. He��s a bit of an activist, too, so these meetings can get a bit tense.��

    She froze.

    Fuck.

    Tanner��s jabbering left her ears and her eyes glued themselves to the tall, black-haired man chatting up the crowd.

    ��I��m sorry, Tanner,�� Aidan leaned in closer, ��did you say his name was, Marrak?��

    Please say no. Please say no.

    ��Yes, you��ve heard of him?��

    Fuck!

    ��Just stories. None good.��

    ��Aw, that��s really too bad. He can be temperamental, but most everyone here seems to believe in him.��

    That��s because they don��t know him!

    As Marrak turned to face the crowd, his eyes locked onto Syra��s and her face paled.

    ��We should probably go," Syra forced her polite voice. "We shouldn��t be barging in here, disrupting things over my stupid ankle.��

    She turned to leave, but Tanner placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

    ��It��s okay, I promise.�� His smile was genuine and Syra felt a wave of pity for the poor fool.

    You haven��t been here long, have you?

    ��I can understand your concern.�� He nodded a greeting and Marrak looked away. ��His presence and reputation can be quite intimidating, but he truly has a heart for the people.��

    You really are stupid!

    ��If it wasn��t for him, and these people here, I wouldn��t have been able to open my own safehouse.��

    Wait, what?

    ��Safehouse?�� she asked.

    ��I told you I was a throwaway, too, right? Well, when I told Marrak about it��about the captain and the little boy��he managed to scrounge up the money and the people to help build one here, in Rozenfall. One that didn��t have to answer to the whitebacks miles away. I��ve had the upmost respect for him since.��

    The group around Marrak dispersed and he stepped to the edge of the platform. All hushed.

    ��First matter of business,�� Marrak��s deep, throaty growl filled the room, ��are we all well?��

    Heads bobbled, but there were whispers off to the side.

    ��Problems?�� Marrak asked, eyes falling on a small group of farmers still in their work gear.

    ��No, sir����

    ��Yes, there is.�� A bold man lifted his head.

    ��Then speak, so we may address them.�� Marrak motioned for him to continue.

    ��The Arrun groves, sir. Why did you burn them? We barely contained it.��

    ��I take it you work in the groves?��

    ��Yes, sir.��

    ��You were there when the flames hit?��

    ��Yes, sir.��

    ��And were you hurt?��

    The man hesitated to gather his thoughts, ��N-no, sir. I was not. We were called away for a meeting, and that��s when yo��when the grove was set ablaze.��

    ��Good. Glad to see everything went accordingly.�� Marrak passed an approving eye over the crowd.

    ��Went accordingly?�� asked the man.

    ��Tell me, were you present at the last meeting?��

    ��N-no. This is my first.��

    ��I see. Well, in that case I do apologize for the lack of communication. You see, the patch of trees that was destroyed was diseased. It would have spread if they were not disposed of. So, not only did it save the grove, but it proved to be a successful recruiting tactic, as we had hoped.��

    ��Is that what Cree was?�� A woman called out, ��A recruiting tactic?��

    ��Yes, partly.��

    Faces twisted with concern, but Marrak remained confidant, ��And, if you would have been there or spoken to someone who was, you would also know that those buildings were empty. Run-down and infested, left to collapse on unsuspecting people. Would you rather them remain a hazard, or be removed to make room for new shops and housing?��

    The room said nothing.

    ��Good. Moving forward, what is our status with Renguard?��

    ��Strong, sir,�� said a soldier near the front. ��We should be ready to sail in a few days, but we''re still low on headcount.��

    ��How many?��

    "Two stands are willing to fight from Renguard alone, but more are expected to join in the next few days.��

    ��Only two?�� shouted a graying man from the center. ��Altaira has ten stands at least!��

    ��Eight.�� A ringless swordsman corrected from the crowd.

    "Kaelem?" Syra gasped at the familiar face and Aidan shushed her.

    ��We only have eight stands. Last winter took one, and the second was dismissed to help recover from the food shortage.��

    ��That��s a lie!�� spat the gray man.

    ��No, it��s not,�� corrected Marrak. ��Kaelem was among those let go.��

    ��Well that��s fine and dandy, but it''s still far more than we got! How do you expect us to confront that?��

    ��You forget who you��re talking to.�� Marrak��s eyes narrowed. ��Did I not promise to be your trump card?��

    ��Oh right, ��cause you��re a dragon! Right, like I��d believe that bullshit.��

    Commotion stirred through the crowd, but Marrak stood at ease.

    ��I��d advise you to watch your tone, old man.�� Marrak��s hand raised and the crowd hushed. ��Tell me, sir, what is your name?��

    ��Lauger,�� he said with pride.

    ��Alright, Lauger, why don��t you come up here so I can hear you better. I do not wish to have a misunderstanding.��

    Lauger maneuvered to the platform where he was prompted to sit.

    ��Excellent. Now, Lauger, why don��t you answer me one thing so we can be on the same page.��

    A red glow shimmered around Marrak''s hand. A subtle flick of long fingers twisted the chair''s metal arms around Lauger��s wrists, pinning him down. Surprise and fear flashed across his face and he tugged himself in vain.

    ��What do you know about Ignis dragons?��

    ��Nothing, I don��t know nothing!��

    ��Oh, come now. You must at least know where they live.��

    Marrak circled Lauger with a slow pace, his hands tucked behind his back and a wry grin creasing his wide, bronzed face.

    ��N-north of here," Lauger stuttered, "on Mt. Blackstone.��

    ��Not bad!�� Marrak gave him a nod, ��Though the correct answer would have been, inside Mt. Blackstone. But that brings up good point.��

    Beads of sweat rolled down Lauger��s flushed face and waves of heat pulsed from Marrak as he closed in on Lauger like prey.

    From the back, Petra watched with clenched jaw and balled fists.

    ��Easy, now.�� Cassius whispered, taking Petra��s fist in his hand.

    Syra stiffened, face pale and hands shaking. Aidan followed Cassius�� example and held on to Syra��s hand. But she didn��t notice at all. Her eyes remained locked on Marrak��s smile.

    He��s...enjoying this.

    Marrak raised his index finger to Lauger��s cheek, which reddened and blistered in an instant. Lauger shrieked and jumped from his seat, knocking himself over.

    ��We��re also exceptionally hard to kill.��

    Tension rose as the heat from Marrak faded and Lauger��s painful whine echoed off the metal pipes. Taking a knee, Marrak sat Lauger upright and clasped his burnt cheek with a firm hand, drawing out a muffled squeal.

    ��Any more questions?��

    ��N-no, sir!��

    Marrak released his cheek and grazed a shimmering finger over the boil, healing it.

    ��Good.��

    Another twitch of a finger freed Lauger from the chair and he stumbled off the platform, startled from the sudden relief of pain.

    ��Now,�� Marrak addressed the mute gathering, ��are we all on the same page?��

    No one spoke.

    ��Good. On to the next matter of business.�� Marrak scanned his gaze over the crowd. ��New recruits!��

    A handful of nervous men and women straightened their backs.

    ��Before we can accept you we must make sure of your loyalty. An understandable request, would you agree?��

    Marrak��s eyes cut through the shadows landed right on Syra.

    Syra blinked but couldn��t look away. She latched onto Aidan��s hand.

    ��You, my young lady!�� Marrak pointed directly at her, sending all eyes her way. ��Where are you from?��

    Syra gaped and Tanner stepped forward.

    ��I��m sorry, sir, she isn��t a recruit. I just brought her for a sprained����

    ��Let her speak.�� Marrak cut him off, uninterested in excuses.

    She hesitated as Marrak weaved through the throng towards her, and Aidan tightened his grip on her hand.

    ��A-Altaira��sir. But I��m not����

    Whispers sparked through the crowd.

    ��Another Altairan deserter.�� Marrak nodded in satisfaction. ��I can see why.��

    His hand rose to her ear and caressed her bare piercing. She stiffened and the others stepped forward to her defense. Marrak eyed Aidan��s firm gaze and Petra��s restless hand on her hilt, but his hand remained still.

    ��Tell me, young lady, what profession caused this?��

    Syra swallowed hard, her throat dry. ��I was a soldier, sir��a healer.��

    ��Hmm, one that was relinquished no doubt?��

    She gave a curt nod and looked away, ��Yes, sir.��

    Petra growled low under her breath, seething at her father��s murderer being called ��sir��.

    Marrak turned his gaze to Aidan and the twins, ��And your comrades?��

    ��Just along for the ride.�� Cassius spoke calmly.

    ��I see. Well, a little mage like this one would certainly need protection." His fingers slid down Syra''s ear to her neck.

    Her hand flew up and slapped him away, and the room held its breath. She bit the inside of her cheek but remained rigid, glaring up into those rusty eyes that soured her stomach.

    Marrak withdrew his hand with a long sigh, but then paused.

    He sniffed.

    His eyes darted from her face to her raised hand. The silver band gleamed around her finger, and the flower engraved on it drew a grin to his face. Hushed murmurs grew from around them.

    ��That is quite a lovely ring you have.�� Marrak announced on purpose. ��Do tell me where you got it.��

    ��It��s an engagement ring.�� Aidan stepped forward, revealing the chain about his neck.

    ��Oh, would you look at that,�� Marrak feigned surprise and grabbed Syra��s hand, ��two spies!��

    ��What?�� Tanner snarled, spinning to face the guests he brought in.

    A clamor ignited through the crowd.

    ��N-no! That��s not what we��!�� Syra stammered and pulled back, but his grip was firm.

    ��Oh, do hush your mouth!�� Marrak snapped. ��Do you think me dumb? Look around you! I have ears everywhere, my dear. The Kesh Raza is foolish to send a wyrmling after me, especially one of his!��

    Her shock made him laugh and he shoved his face to her ear.

    ��You smell just like him. Even over the����

    A whoosh and crack jolted them apart as a charged fist sent Marrak stumbling backwards.

    The scraping of blades dulled in Syra''s ears under the rushing of blood and burning in her hand.

    "Suck a toad," she hissed in Draconic.

    The riot swarmed in and Syra flung out a barrier, knocking the mob off their feet.

    "Run!�� She led the others out of the boiler room and into the passageway.

    Just before they reached the stairs, Syra stopped at a metal pipe hissing steam.

    ��What are you doing? Let��s go!�� Petra yelled from the top.

    Light surrounded the pipe, the pressure from the metal hard against her hands. She strained backwards, pulling the pipe back until metal cracked.

    ��She��s right there!��

    The pounding of boots drew nearer and Syra tugged harder, unhinging the pipe.

    ��Come on!��

    ��Syra, let��s go, now!��

    One last pull snapped the pipe and sent steam blasting down the hall. The boots stopped, followed by screams of, ��Go around!��

    Syra darted up the stairs and out the alley door.

    Petra slammed the door behind her and yanked the handle clean off, ��Just in case.��

    They rounded the building and sprinted down the street. Atop the hill, the Manarail gleamed and sounded its warning whistle.

    ��It��s leaving! Let��s go!�� Aidan called out.

    ��They��re over there!�� Behind them, rebels swarmed around a corner.

    ��Shit, they��re still coming!�� cursed Syra.

    ��Just keep running!��

    Easy for you to say, longlegs!

    They ducked into another alley but were met by a shimmering wall.

    "I got ''em!" called the ringless mage smirking from behind her barrier. "Over he��"

    A blast of wind knocked her back as the barrier split and exploded in front of her, the dying shimmers sparking away from the glowing edge of Aidan''s sword.

    "Definitely have to thank Baba later," he huffed as they ran past the unconcious mage, "this thing is amaz��"

    Whizzing made Syra jump as an arrow flew passed her face, followed by a scream. Her stomach shot to her throat as an arrow sunk into Aidan��s shoulder.

    ��Aidan!��

    ��It��s okay," he grunted, "just keep going!��

    Syra threw up a barrier as arrows came from both behind and above them. But it flickered and cracked and her arms shook.

    I can��t keep this up much longer.

    They ducked and swerved through the people in the square, and Syra flung baskets, barrels��even food��soaring back into them. But each throw of a glowing hand made her head spin and the others pulled ahead.

    As they passed a stable, a blur leapt from an ally and collided with Petra, pulling her to the ground. Aidan and Cassius slowed, but Syra waved them onward.

    ��Go! I got her!��

    The man held Petra��s face to the ground and pulled a knife from his belt. He didn��t see the light that surround Syra��s hands, or himself.

    ��Get off of her!�� Syra''s chest burned as she raised her arms in the air, lifting the surprised man up and off of her sister. The burning shot down her arms and she screamed as she heaved him through the air and into a wall.

    ��Go, I��m coming.�� Syra panted as Petra sprung to her feet and ran after the boys.

    Syra turned to face the angry mob on shaking legs. She heaved a large water troph and tipped it over, sending water sloshing down the hill towards the rebels. She inhaled deep, and charged her hands.

    More.

    Boots hit the water.

    Little more.

    Her chest burned. Her arm hairs stood, and her skin buzzed. Her fingers curled into claws as her hands tensed and trembled.

    Now.

    She slammed her palms into the puddle and sent the current surging through the water. The rebels screamed. Sparks flew. And their bodies fell, convulsing in the electrified water.

    The last whistle broke Syra from her light-headed stupor. Her legs wobbled as she slipped and fumbled and clawed up the muddy slope, and was halfway up when it jolted forward.

    ��Run!�� Aidan called.

    ��Grab on!�� The twins called from the open door, their arms stretched out to her.

    She scrambled to the top and sprinted down the track. But she couldn��t gain any distance and it was only picking up speed.

    ��She��s not going to make it.�� Cassius cried.

    ��Oh, yes, she is. Hold on.�� Petra linked arms with Cassius and stepped out of the door, her hand just out of Syra��s reach.

    ��Grab on!��

    Syra��s legs burned and her head spun. She flailed her arm, reaching, but was always an inch away.

    ��Come on, grab it!��

    ��I��m trying!��

    ��Well, try harder!��

    The treeline raced towards her.

    Last chance.

    She forced the rest of her mana into her legs, and jumped. To her surprise, Petra caught a tight hold and yanked her up.

    ��Pull!�� Petra commanded Cassius, who shoved himself back into the car, pulling the two girls along with him.

    They collapsed on the floor, panting. Syra crawled away from the door and her legs twitched from exhaustion.

    ��Get the door.�� She huffed and Cassius slammed it shut.

    The car was silent except for heavy breathing and Aidan��s groans.

    Shit, the arrow!

    Syra looked over to see Aidan collapsed on the floor, the bloodied arrow laying next to him.

    ��Aidan, you alright?��

    He didn��t speak. Only moans came out.

    ��Aidan?�� Syra crawled over to him and lifted him up.

    Her gut tightened. His face was pale and sweating, and his head wobbled side to side with the rock of the train.

    ��He��s unconscious!��

    ��How?�� Cassius scooted over and held a hand to Aidan��s cheek. His face fell. ��This isn��t good. He��s fading.��

    ��Fading?�� Syra wailed, ��But how? It was one arrow!��

    ��Lift up his shirt.�� Petra sat solemn with the arrow in her hand.

    ��But why����

    ��Do it!��

    Cassius helped Syra to remove Aidan��s vest and lifted his shirt to reveal the arrow wound. Syra��s stomach turned. Dark veins spread from the gash like vines searching for sunlight.

    ��What is that?�� Syra squirmed.

    ��It��s poison,�� said Petra ��from this.�� She held up the arrow head.

    ��Okay��well, then I��ll take care of it.�� Syra prepped herself to weave, but Petra put a hand on her shoulder.

    ��No, it won��t work.��

    ��What do you mean, it won��t work? Who��s the healer here?��

    ��You are far too weak to healing anything right now. Plus,�� she gripped at the arrow and its shaft split, ��this is Arrun poison��I''d know this smell anywhere.��

    ��B-but he��s human. It shouldn��t even affect him.��

    ��By the look of those veins, it does. I��ve seen them before. On clanmates who fell to his dragonlances." She scoffed, "How ironic.��

    ��Can you do something about it?��

    ��Me?��

    ��You said you��ve seen it before. Is there are cure? A spell? Tell me how to stop it.��

    ��You expect me to use magic?��

    ��I don��t know, can you?��

    Petra hesitated and Aidan��s breathing grew shallow and labored.

    ��Petra, please! If you can do something, please try.�� Syra draped herself over Aidan sobbing. ��Please, Petra...I don��t know what else to do.�� Her voice wisped and cracked. ��He��s my mate. I can��t just let him die.��

    "He''s not your mate," Petra said.

    But she watched her sister, the Firstborn, rightful Vayguard to the Montari Clan, sob and weep and beg over a human boy. Normally, it would have disgusted her. But she had seen him sob and weep over her, just the same.

    ��Move over.�� Petra crawled over to them, shoving Syra to the side. ��And take off his shirt.��

    ��What?��

    Petra flashed a glare, ��Just do it! If it gets to his heart, he��s done.��

    They tugged off his shirt and laid him on the car floor.

    ��Now, I don��t know if this will even help��he is human after all��but I��ll do what I can.��

    Petra knelt next to Aidan and slowed her breathing, keeping her eyes closed. She pressed her hands together and lifted them to her lips.

    ��Niida?.��

    At her words, light glimmered between her hands. Inhaling deep, she blew into them, causing them to glow like growing embers. Her eyes slid open and she leaned over Aidan, their gold gleaming in the shadow of the car. Placing one hand on Aidan��s left shoulder, she opened her mouth, and started to sing. A full, clear soprano filled the train car as the long Draconic syllables rolled off her tongue.

    When all light goes dim and you grow afraid,

    Take my fire and let it light your way

    For I��m here,

    Anytime I hear your call, I��ll find my way to you

    Syra watched on as Petra slid her fingertips down Aidan��s arms, causing light to vein out across his skin.

    When the winds are strong and your thoughts churn dark,

    Take my wings and let them lift your heart

    For I��m here,

    Anytime I hear your call, I��ll fly the skies for you

    A stroke to the other arm, and light wrapped around and spread towards his chest. In a slow spiral, her fingers traced a circle on Aidan��s chest and the lines of light converged. The thread of light spread outward over his body as Syra and Cassius watched mesmerized as the poison retreated into the light.

    She��s a songstress!

    When the night is long but the ache remains,

    Take my song and let it soothe your pain

    For I��m here,

    Anytime I hear your call, I��ll sing my song for you

    Leaning down, Petra let her lips hover over the wound, and blew. In an instant, the light peeled off his skin and shattered, dissipating into dust and taking the poison with it.

    Petra released a deep breath and leaned back, her skin glistening with sweat. She was not as magically inclined as her sister, so any magic she did use took a great deal of energy.

    Syra examined Aidan��s chest with shaking hands and watering eyes.

    ��You did it.��

    Petra chuckled between heavy breaths, ��Yeah, I guess I did.�� She fell back against the car wall, but couldn��t hide the smile on her face.

    ��Thank you!��

    Petra jolted as Syra lowered her head to Petra��s feet, grabbing her ankles, ��Uhh����

    ��I don��t know how or where you learned that, and right now I don��t care.�� Syra��s voice wavered through restrained sobs. ��I owe you.��

    ��I, uh���� Shocked and dumbfounded by Syra��s sudden humility, Petra looked to Cassius who just gave a relieved nod.

    ��You��re welcome.�� Petra gave Syra��s head a light pat.

    Syra returned to Aidan��s side, giving him a second look-over before collapsing to the floor. For a moment, the whir of the train and slow breathing took over the train car. Petra��s breath returned and Cassius watched the passing fields and forests through the window. Syra stared across the car into nothing, her cheek pressed to the car floor and her hair clinging to her face and brow.

    "The Kesh Raza is foolish to send a wyrmling after me..."

    Marrak''s words awakened the ache in her hand.

    Even his human face was like stone. How am I supposed to fight him full force?

 |Chapter 27| Stray

    <hr>

    ��Teach it to me,�� Syra said, keeping her voice low to not wake the dozing head nestled in her lap, ��that songspell you did.��

    Her strength returned with the mountains and the threat of the approaching city.

    ��Me teach you?�� Petra smirked at the proposition of teaching magic to her Lightblooded sister. "Do you even know how to Sing?"

    ��Of course, I do. That''s how you found me wasn''t it?"

    "That was screaming. Not Singing."

    "Either way, I can learn. Plus, if Marrak does attack Altaira, we could be caught against their dragonlances. It��d be safer if we both knew it, just in case.��

    Petra''s brow wrinkled as she rolled the idea around.

    ��Fine,�� her raised finger cut off Syra��s yipping, ��but, it��s not easy.�� She wiggled her fingers, ��There''s no weaving involved, so it might take you a lot of prac��.��

    Petra scowled as Syra rummaged through her bag, giving her no notice, ��Are you even listening?��

    ��Yes.�� Syra pulled paper and quill from her pack. ��No weaving; just voice,�� she recited as she scribbled notes onto the paper. ��What��s next?��

    ��Well, uh���� Petra stammered but Syra just stared with big, eager eyes. ��Lyrics. You uh, should know those or else the spell won��t work. Kind of like that locator spell you made��they��re instructions.��

    ��Mm-hm,�� Syra nodded and underlined the word, ��Lyrics��, ��that makes sense. Which are?��

    Petra hesitated with slight confusion, ��You already know them.��

    The quill stopped and Syra returned the confused look.

    ��That song you keep singing��the one we all have to sleep through��that��s it.��

    Syra set down her paper. It did sound familiar. Very familiar, now that she thought about it. The melody played at her tongue, but the words were lost to her.

    ��It��s a lullaby,�� Petra explained, seeing Syra��s frustration, ��that��s probably why you don��t remember��being away for so long.��

    ��A lullaby? How does that even����

    ��It��s a calming spell. It extracts things like pain, fear, anger��that��s why it��s used to make whining hatchlings shut up. I guess it works on physical poisons, too.�� Petra laughed at herself, ��Oh Lord, I sound like you.��

    ��Is that really so bad?�� Syra asked, "It''s better than yelling."

    Petra waved her off, ��Look, I can teach you the lyrics, but we don''t have enough time for you to master it. You''ll just have to����

    ��I''ll use a callar, then.�� Syra said, stashing her notes.

    "A...callar?"

    ��It��s like a necklace. All new songstresses get one for training. It stabilizes your voice until you can control it by yourself. Renguard''s market has to have one.��

    She peeked out at the growing city towers but Cassius was quick to shake his head.

    ��Oh no, you don��t,�� he said. He knew that look. ��It��s to the end of the line for us. Aidan��s not even awake yet.��

    ��We need food and water anyway.�� Syra shook her empty canteen in his face.

    ��Are you still fog-headed from those fumes? Look what happened last time we got off. And that was just for a short potty break.�� He leered down at her, ��No. We can get supplies when we get to Crescent Bay. For now, we��re staying right here.��

    They didn''t.

    ***

    Renguard��s marketplace was three times that of Altaira��s, and both sisters gawked at the webbing of stand-packed streets from the shadows of the alleyway.

    ��Cas isn��t going to let this go easily,�� Syra hushed from behind the pile of grain sacks.

    ��Cas is a cave rat when he��s scared. If he thinks we can take on Marrak with claws and pixie dust, he can sniff my vent.��

    Syra snickered, but Petra��s gaze was locked onto the rancher''s long stand that reeked of a fresh butchering. And Petra was determined to have some.

    ��How��re we going to carry all of that unnoticed? There are people everywhere.��

    ��We don��t.�� Syra corrected, taking a page from Aidan��s book and waving her further back into the ally. ��You stay here with the bags and get ready to run.��

    ��And what are you going to do, then? Ask politely?��

    Mischief danced in Syra''s smile and she crouched, eyes fixed on the stand of goodies, ��Just hold the bag.��

    Light pulsed from her skin as her outline contoured into a ball barely a foot tall. Black shown through the light veil and a raven flapped in her place. Petra raised an impressed brow and Syra cocked her head and cawed.

    ��Well get going, smartass.�� Petra waved her off and Syra dove at the stand, talons at the ready.

    The street echoed with curses, shrieks, and the waving of angry arms. Petra snorted into her hand as she watched Syra swoop and dart over the stand, snatching up meaty morsels. Syra soared into the ally ready to drop the hoard into the open pack, but hurried footsteps followed close behind.

    "Bashta," Petra ducked under a back porch just in time to watch the rancher and his comrades give chase after nothing.

    In a flurry of light and flapping, Syra crouched outside the porch waiting for her accomplice to crawl out.

    ��Think you handle a few more rounds?�� Syra smirked, taking the bag.

    Petra examined its contents with a playfully cynical eye, ��Still looks pretty empty. A little bit more wouldn��t hurt. ''Meat makes muscle'' and whatnot.��

    The sisters muffled their snickering and set their sights on their next target. By the third alley the sack hung low and they closed in on the main square.

    ��We should stop here.�� Petra clung to the shadows beneath the watchtower and readjusted the heavy pack on her shoulders. ��This will be enough and it��s way too open out there.��

    ��We still have to get the callar, remember.�� Syra scampered off to the next adjoining street, ��It��s probably at one of those fancy booths with all those artifacts.��

    Petra trudged after her, but they were met by a heavy thud as a cloaked blur rounded the corner and smashed straight into them, sending the small figure stumbling to the dirt.

    ��Oh, I��m sorry. Are you alright?�� Syra blurted out and knelt down as a young boy picked himself up.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ��Just fine,�� he snapped, his eyes darting over his shoulder as Syra helped him to his feet.

    But while Syra fretted over the shaken boy, Petra��s eyes caught the glimmer of crystals scattered about the ground.

    "What are those?"

    The boy yanked himself away and scrambled to gather them in his cloak, ��You didn��t see anything.��

    ��Oh, we totally saw.�� Petra looked down her nose at the boy, but eyed the stones hungrily.

    Voices grew from around the corner and the boy cowered away, ��Please. Please say you didn��t see anything.��

    Syra��s conscious wreaked havoc on her face, but Petra remained transfixed on the mosaic cupped in his hands.

    ��We��ll take the purple one.��

    ��What?�� The boy flinched up at her.

    ��That one.�� Petra pointed to an amec crystal and plucked it from the pile.

    ��B-but����

    ��Now go. They��re getting closer.�� Petra huffed him away and he sprinted off into the narrow street.

    Petra stuffed the stone into her pocket just in time for an out-of-breath guard to duck into the ally.

    ��Have either of you ladies seen a young lad?�� He asked between pants. ����Bout ye high, wearin�� a brown cloak an�� carryin�� somethin��?��

    Petra eyed Syra and she offered up a sweet, apologetic smile with a tilt of her head.

    ��I��m sorry, sir, we have not.��

    ��Oh, I see. Alright, sorry to bother you.��

    He went to continue down the ally but the contents of Petra��s bag spun him around, ��Wait a minute, I know those cookies.��

    ��You do?�� Syra feigned innocent surprise.

    ��Yeah,�� he glared down at her, ��they flew off a few minutes ago.��

    ��Syra?�� Petra mumbled, not liking his aggressive stance.

    ��On it.��

    With a quick skip forward, her hands flew to his face and the fog filled his head. He slouched and his eyes drifted. But the gem dangling from his earring glowed and they refocused. This time on her, and this time he smiled.

    ��Shit.�� Syra ducked away but his fist snatched up her braid and sent her feet flying from under her.

    ��Run!�� Syra called to Petra and squirmed to pull herself free.

    ��You��re not goin�� anywhere, missy.��

    There was the tap-tap of boots, scraping of metal, and a rush of wind as the tension on Syra��s head vanished.

    ��Move it!�� Petra grabbed Syra��s arm and dragged her away as the guard stood in a brief stupor, Syra��s braid still hanging from his hand.

    Around a corner, up one ally and down the next they zig-zagged with the echo of boots after them.

    ��There.�� Syra pointed to another porch just big enough for one.

    ��What about y����

    Syra shoved her away and slid into a pile of rugs, draping one over herself.

    The guard stopped at the corner, seeing no one down the long, narrow street.

    ��I know yer here, little mage. Don��t you dare think that your little magic tricks put you and yer friend above the law. You��ll lose those shiny hands o�� yers when I find you.��

    Petra watched from behind the wooden lattice of the porch as the guard kicked over barrels and crates on his way to the stacks of rolled carpet. She bit her hand to mute her yell when he threw Syra��s drapery back.

    But Syra was not there. A high pitched squeal sent the guard leaping back, stomping at the ground like a toddler in a tantrum. From under his feet, a rat scurried around the crates and barrels, and under the porch where Petra crouched in silent surprise.

    ��Damn rats are everywhere!�� The guard shealthed his sword and threw the rug back in its place before running off down the street.

    When quiet returned, the glowing rat left the porch and Syra took its place, her cheeks red and her hair a wild mess of waves.

    ��And here I thought Cas was the cave rat.�� Petra laughed, half-tripping into the street.

    Syra caught her breath and picked at the loose strands that brushed her shoulders, ��Do you know how long it took to grow this out?�� A wave of disappointment and loss came and went, ��Aidan��s not going to be happy.��

    ��That boy''s never happy.�� Petra sheathed her blade, ��Let��s just go find that callar and leave.��

    They weren��t halfway down the alleyway when a whisper came from above them.

    ��Hey!��

    They spun around, hands ready, but saw no one.

    ��No, up here!��

    Waving at them from a broken window was the boy from before, ��Quick! He��s coming back.�� He pointed to the series of railings, gutters, and windowsills which they made quick work of��though Petra had a harder time squeezing through the small window.

    All three watched with held breaths as the guard made a second pass through the ally.

    ��Alright, I think he��s gone for good this time.�� The boy left his peep hole at the window to sit on the nest of fabric scraps in the middle of the abandoned room.

    ��What is this place?�� Petra scrunched her nose at the dilapidated living quarters that smelled of mold and rotting wood.

    ��Currently, it��s home.�� The boy met her upturned nose with unblinking eyes that challenged her to insult him one more time.

    Neither sister pushed the subject. Instead, they took to oogling the collection of stones and magical items laid out on the floor.

    ��This is your home, yet you have all of these?�� Syra picked a fancy metal tube from the selection, fidgeting with the series of levers along its length.

    ��You��re not the only one with magic tricks.�� He took the tube from her hands but stopped when he saw the scrape on her arm. It was glimmering.

    ��You��re a Lightblood?��

    Syra hadn��t even noticed the cut until now, but she wiped the beads away with her cloak and brushed the subject away, ��Yep.��

    She avoided eye contact, not wanting to incite any more questions, but he simply smiled.

    ��Me, too.��

    Surprise made her look back. She couldn��t tell by his face��which was scuffed and dirty and half-hidden by the blonde mop on his head��but there was a quiet sincerity in his voice that spoke of mutual understanding. Of there being safety in silence.

    Her shoulders relaxed and she held out a hand, palm-side up��the way mages greeted one another back in the city, ��I''m Syra.��

    He stared at her hand for a long moment and Syra wondered if he didn��t know the custom. But then four small fingers met hers as he placed his hand atop hers.

    ��Piper.��

    She''d never seen a Lightblood outside the Academy, especially not a Throwaway, and she couldn��t help but stare fondly at the boy. Even though his skin had a healthy glow, his cloak was oversized and his arms thin. But given his living conditions, she wasn��t surprised.

    ��Petra,�� she said, taking back her hand, ��give him the crystal.��

    ��Why?�� she sneered, ��We could use it.��

    ��He needs it more.�� She turned a pleading gaze to her. ��Spare the young,�� she said��a Draconic saying to prioritize the clan��s future.

    Petra huffed a heavy sigh and dug the stone from her pocket, holding it out to Piper. But she did not let go when he grabbed it.

    ��In exchange,�� she said, inciting a curious look, ��we want to know where to find a callar.��

    ��A callar?��

    ��Yes,�� she eyed the array of items on the floor, ��you seem to know your way around artifacts. Surely you can point us in the right direction?��

    Piper tugged on the stone, but her grip was firm and she smirked up at him.

    He looked to Syra for assistance, but she dipped her head.

    ��Please? We need it.��

    He rolled his eyes, ��Fine. I know of one stand that might have one.��

    ��Good.�� Petra released the crystal, causing his hand to smack his nose. ��Where is it?��

    Piper set the stone with the others and took the tube to a window that faced the square. Looking through the tube, he adjusted the toggles then handed it to Petra.

    ��The stand with the green cover��the one with the suit of armor��that��s the one. Not sure if it��s still there, but I saw one a few days ago.��

    ��Excellent work, brat.�� Petra handed over the tube for Syra to take a peek.

    ��Don��t call me that.�� He left the window and returned to the ledge where they entered, ��Now go, before any more guards start looking for you. I don��t need them finding this place.��

    ��It��ll be fine,�� Syra said, climbing out the window, ��I didn��t see anything.��

    Syra gave him a wink and he dipped his head as she slid down the gutter to the street below.

    They circled the square nearly a full turn before they found an ally close enough��and unpopulated enough��to take cover. By then, the sun grew red and the crowds thinner.

    ��Make it quick,�� Petra took her position with the mouth of the bag gaping, ��we don��t know when the train��s going to leave.��

    Syra nodded and in a rush of wingbeats was airborne again. She landed on the rooftop overlooking the stretch of glinting merchandise.

    Now, which one was it?

    Item by item, she scanned the tables��hopping this way and that for a better angle��until the jeweled choker came into view.

    There you are.

    With the merchant��s back turned, she sprung from the eave. On silent wings she glided down to the table where nimble claws slipped the necklace from its display. The jingling of its chain caught the merchant��s attention, but Syra was already aloft and his curses faded as she circled back to the ally.

    ��Nice work.�� Petra latched the bag shut as Syra shifted back, ��Who would��ve thought you��d make such a good thief?��

    Syra grimaced, shoving unruly locks behind her ear for a third time, ��It��s not something to be proud of. When this is over, I��ll make sure they get paid properly.��

    ��Suit yourself.�� Petra strapped the pack to her back and rounded the corner.

    Then there was scuffling, a flash of light, and a muffled yell.

    ��Petra?�� Syra bounded around the corner and skidded before she ran over Petra who convulsed on the ground.

    ��That��s her.��

    Looming over Petra with sparking staffs were two robed men. And behind them, wearing a brown cloak and flat face, was Piper.

    ��Run.�� Petra wheezed up at Syra as she struggled to her knees.

    Syra spun on her toes, but the muscles in her back seized and hot pain jolted through her. Her feet stumbled and her knees buckled. Her cheek smashed against stone and all breath left her lungs as the shock shook her body. She doubled over, clutching her stomach that threatened to heave, and watched Petra get jabbed a second time for standing.

    ��Leave her alone!�� Syra clawed at the cobblestones, pulling herself to her elbows.

    The men scoffed and raised their staffs again, but Piper held out a hand.

    ��Let her be. Morin only wants this one.�� Piper stared down at Syra and the men withdrew, leaving Petra to cough up the last bit of that morning��s ration.

    Syra charged her hand, but the thick head of a staff knocked her back before she could send off the attack.

    ��Why are you doing this?�� Syra squinted up at Piper. She took a knee but it wouldn��t hold her.

    Piper said nothing. He only pulled a tiny crossbow from his belt and locked a dart into place. Before another word could leave her mouth, a sharp sting flared from Syra��s neck as the dart was loosed. Her muscles gave out and her head swam. Her skin tingled and her vision went fuzzy. The last thing she saw before the darkness was Petra��s scared eyes and a spiral of light that wrapped around her and Piper.

 |Chapter 28| Ninety-percent Pure

    <hr>

    Syra woke to her feet dragging across a dark stone floor and rough hands clenching both arms. She flinched at the screeching of a rusty lock and was hauled into a long, narrow room.

    ��Where��where am I?�� Her throat stung and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

    ��Home.�� The man drug her farther into the room as her eyes adjusted to the dim.

    Wall to wall, cages towered three-high, all meticulously fashioned from stone and iron. Each inhabitant was pale and crumpled on the floor, eyes ringed and shivering. No cloth was given for cold nor dishes for food. The reek of puss and piss burned the air and seeped from every crevice.

    The man tossed Syra into a bottom kennel where light from the street window mocked her from above.

    "Get some rest while you can," he grumbled as he left with a cold slam.

    The lock clinked and Syra shoved her hands through the bars towards the window. Her hands glowed, but so did her new collar. Searing pain bit into her neck and she heard the sizzling of flesh accompanied by her scream.

    ��Doesn''t work,�� came a tiny voice from beside her��a child''s voice.

    She couldn''t see her neighbor, but she heard their rasped breathing.

    ��There''s has to be a way.��

    ��No way. Already tried. Only pain comes.��

    ��Shh!�� A shadow from the cage over hissed from its corner, ��No sound. No talking. They take loudest.��

    ��Who''s they?��

    The shadow did not answer.

    ��The shiny people,�� her neighbor whispered, ��they always take the loudest��the strongest. Then they come back like us. They don''t talk anymore. Are afraid to.��

    Cold gripped Syra''s gut and she gripped the bars, shoving her face against the cold metal for a glimpse of the tiny voice, ��What''s your name?��

    ��Shh!�� the shadow hissed again.

    ��What''s your name?�� she repeated softer.

    But there was just silence, and Syra questioned if the child was asleep or just ignoring her.

    ��Twelve,�� it said finally.

    ��Twelve? That''s your name?��

    ��Shh! No speak. Will come.�� The shadow wriggled then turn its back to them. Hanging from its cage door was a sign with a scribble barely legible in the moonlight.

    ��Ten?��

    ��Eleven used to live where you are," said Twelve, "but I don''t see him anymore.��

    Syra''s jaw clenched.

    Don''t see him anymore? Maybe that means he left��that he escaped.

    But she knew better. In a place like this, an empty cage meant there was no body left to fill it. Not a live one, anyway.

    ��I used to have another name,�� Twelve hushed, ��before I came here. A special name. But I can''t say it anymore.��

    ��Oh, really? And what is that special name?�� She could hear the word hover on Twelve''s lips.

    ��Wi...Willow.��

    ��Willow, huh? That''s a pretty name.��

    "Yeah...I liked it. A lot. Because...because they said I was special, so they gave me a special name. Because I made the trees grow, and that made them happy.��

    Made the trees grow?

    ��Willow, can I see your arm a moment?" Syra asked, "Just stick it out between the bars.��

    Syra smushed her cheek into the bars as a small, frail arm poked out beside her. Pale scars speckled Willow''s skin and a round, red wound still glistened at the elbow. But it didn''t just glisten with scabbing skin. It shimmered.

    She''s a Lightblood.

    Syra looked from cage to cage at the shadows that stuck their small faces against the bars, clinging to the words of the one who dared to speak. All along their arms, scars freckled each one of them.

    They''re all Lightbloods.

    "He can make all kinds of potions from the mana sucked out of ''em. Strength, rejuvenation, even invincibility given the right...donor."

    So, this is what he meant.

    Heat left her skin as her stomach fell.

    ��This is wrong. This is disgusting. This is����

    ��This is your lucky day!�� A husky voice reverberated off the stone walls as a tall man in long robes threw open the door and entered into the kennel.

    The shadows darted back to their corners and he took his time to pass each cage with slow, deliberate steps, the clinking of iron shackles making them jump with each step.

    ��It seems Morin has taken quite a liking to you.�� He stopped in front of Syra''s cage and squatted.

    ��The feeling isn''t mutual.��

    Her indignance made him smile.

    ��It never is. But, as it turns out, that''s how he likes it. Means you''re feisty, and ripe for picking.��

    ��Ripe for pick��? Suck a toad, you sick fu��!�� Syra spat and slammed a fist against the bars.

    ��Uh-uh, language missy. There are children present.�� His smile only grew with her snarling.

    Just this once, she thought, just this once she would enjoy the taste of his throat between her teeth.

    ��Now, I know you just got here and all, but your presence has been requested in the main hall. So, out you come, nice an'' easy.�� He took the keys from his waist and opened the cage door.

    Nice an'' easy, my ass.

    The moment her head cleared the cage, it was up under his chin. Her foot found his groin and her knee met his nose as he doubled over. She didn''t wait to hear the stream of insults and sped off down the hallway.

    Great, now where?

    She skirted around a corner to another hall but caught the attention of two guards.

    Nope.

    She pivoted back down the first hallway and was followed by heavy bootsteps and yelling.

    Room, room, dead end, room.

    Where are the damned stairs in this place?

    She turned a corner. There it was. Light. Light from a door window at the end of a hallway.

    Yes, finally.

    ��I don''t think so.�� A robed man with too many pendants and not enough shampoo stepped out from an adjoining hallway. His narrow spectacles framed a face that looked like a thumb.

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    His two guards rushed at Syra holding staffs, but she slid under their legs. She scurried to her feet, but a sharp jolt of hot pain made her back seize and her legs buckle. Sparks glimmered from the guard''s morakii-tipped staff as she fell.

    ��Cuff her.�� The man''s necklaces jingled as he turned back down the hall and the guards shackled her hands behind her back. Among them, a a bronze ring caught her eye.

    "That coin," she squeaked out, "you...you''re with them, too? The Black Thorn?"

    "Goodness, no. I''m merely a supplier for some of their more...discretionary members." Morin paused to turn a sharp eye down at her, "You might even get to meet one of them, should they like you well enough."

    "You''re disgusting," she spat. "You''re no alchemist. You''re nothing but a third leg that should be shed.��

    But Morin only laughed, ��You think you''re the first to tell me that? A fang cares not for the leg that can be severed.��

    He turned his gaze to his guards, ��Sedate her.��

    As he left, one guard dug a wad of cloth from his pocket.

    No! Not that shit again.

    She squirmed to get just one foot underneath herself, but the other guard pinned her legs down under his weight.

    "Hush now." The guard unravelled the long cloth and tied it taught around her head, tugging the cloth just under her nose.

    Damn it.

    The oil might have been diluted, but it still made her head spin and her vision fuzzy. Soon, all strength left her limbs and she was left to watch them haul her through heavy doors that read, "Theater".

    ***

    Strong lighting made Syra squint as they led her into an open room where eager faces watched from their seats.

    ��I was going to have you join me for tea as a friendly welcome,�� said Morin when they reached the center of the room, ��but it seems you don''t appreciate hospitality.��

    He faced the guards and nodded to the metal chair beside them, ��The chair, please.��

    Syra whined and wobbled as they drug her towards the chair. But each squirm earned her a jab with the shockstick and she eventually collapsed into it.

    ��As you can see,�� Morin addressed his audience as restraints were latched about her, ��this one is much older than usual, but I can assure you, I''ve been told she''s quite gifted. To demonstrate...��

    Morin crossed the pit to choose a small, clean blade from a rack. He grabbed Syra''s hand but she tugged it loose.

    Morin glared, latching his fingers tighter around her wrist, "Hold still. This will sting a little." With that, he drew the swift blade across her palm. She yipped and blood pooled from the cut.

    ��Glass,�� Morin commanded, holding out a hand for his assistant.

    Even against the pain in her hand, Syra''s eyes went wide.

    Piper?

    The young lad handed Morin the small glass jar, but kept his dead eyes on Syra even as he returned to his place by the supply rack. It was then, with his neck exposed, that she noticed the tiny black tick mark inscribed at his collar bone: 11.

    ��Normally,�� Morin continued as he milked the trickle of blood into the jar, ��we prefer to use the blood of the young as it has a faster conversion rate. Young begets young, as we say." Parchment,�� he demanded and Piper fetched him a narrow strip of paper.

    ��But, we have recently found that, with a high enough affinity, age loses its effect. Let''s see what this young lady has to offer.��

    He dipped the parchment into the jar and blood stained it red. He held it in the air, and there it shimmered for all to see.

    ��Well, she''s a Lightblood, that''s for certain. But what else?��

    They waited as the liquid crawled up and saturated the strip. Then it sparked, making Morin jump. Purple light shimmered from the paper and Morin nodded, ��She hails from the north, near the amec vein. Not surprising.��

    The light faded and the paper''s color changed.

    ��Here we go! This is what we need to know.��

    Yellow, orange, green, then a teal blue. They watched on, mesmerized. Each new color making their grins grow wider. By the time the paper turned indigo Morin was nearly jumping out of his britches. But it was not his excitement that actually made him jump, but the gold sparks that leapt from the paper and ignited it in his hand.

    ��Oh, watch out!�� He dropped the paper and stamped it out with his boot.

    The theater fell silent and Morin just stared at Syra who had not dropped her glare once, ��Gifted, indeed.��

    He spun to face his audience, ��Ladies and gentlemen, I believe what we''ve just seen is the indication of such high affinity. An affinity of...I dare say, ninety-percent?��

    Heads bobbled with applause and Morin lifted the jar in the air, ��Ninety-percent pure! How about that?��

    Cheers went up and he motioned for quiet. ��With that, I thank you for attention. Please place any orders with my assistant, Dasko, in the back there. Thank you.��

    ��Orders?�� Syra hissed up at him when he passed by the chair.

    ��Of course. Why do you think I keep so many of you Lightbloods around? You''re a rare commodity. And you are going to be quite the valuable resource.��

    ��Let''s get her hooked up,�� he said to his guards, ��can''t keep the patrons waiting.��

    ***

    ��Told you. They take the loudest.�� Ten stared at her from the pool of moonlight in her cage. Her voice was flat, but Syra thought she could see sympathy behind her dull eyes.

    Syra wanted to laugh, but her mouth was dry, her muscles heavy, and any movement made her head swim. She lay in ball in her cage, legs tucked up under her gown and a swollen cheek to the stone floor, staring absently at the bandages around her elbow.

    ��Can''t have you losing anymore. It''s worth money, now,�� they said after they unplugged her and pulled her off the inversion table.

    Her stomach turned and she pushed the images away, hugging her knees. She just wanted to sleep. To curl up and become a rock at the bottom of a deep river.

    But I can''t sleep. I can''t stay. I have to find a way out. The others are probably looking for me. Aidan��s probably��

    She caught herself mid-sob and swallowed hard.

    Aidan��s probably��

    She bit down on her cheek to keep the cries and the tears inside.

    I��m sorry��

    ��It only hurts the first few times.�� Willow��s voice pulled her back into the room. ��You learn to not feel it after a while.��

    ��How many?�� Syra''s voice was hoarse and her tongue stuck in her throat.

    Willow hesitated, as if counting, ��All of us. And more before that.��

    Silent tears dripped onto the stone by Syra��s face, ��All of them?��

    From the floor she could see tiny figures huddled in the cages on the far wall. All pale with dead faces. All bruises and bandages. All in scraps of fabric made into tiny gowns. All of them.

    ��Shh! They come.�� Ten hissed and crawled back into her corner.

    The door creaked open this time. But instead of a loud, blundering man, a soft pat-pat entered the room.

    ��Syra?�� A familiar voice called through the darkness.

    ��Piper?��

    Footsteps neared her cage and she heard the faint jingling of keys.

    ��We have to be quick, and quiet. I drugged the guards, but they won''t be out for long.�� He opened the door, ��Come, this way.��

    He held out a hand but she hesitated, eyes glaring up at him.

    ��I��m sorry about earlier. I didn��t want to��but it was the only way to get you here. I thought���� he paused to choose his words carefully, ��I thought, if you helped me, then maybe you could help all of them, too.�� He motioned to the cages.

    ��Help you how?��

    ��To take out Morin.�� His face darkened, making him look much older. ��None of us are strong enough. But you��re older, stronger. I watched you today��you must have had some training to pull off those stunts. So, will you? Will you help us?��

    "Be careful who you help," Aidan��s voice whispered in her head.

    Too late, now.

    She gave a curt nod and he draped an arm over her shoulder, helping her to wobble out. She managed to keep her feet under her, but she stopped before they left the room.

    ��What about them?" She turned to the room of small sunken faces pressed against iron bars.

    ��We��ll have to worry about them later. The guard��s will be waking up soon. There��s no other choice, you have to go now.��

    Her feet itched to run. To flee this pit and pass it off as a bad dream. But their faces stared on in silence. Willow��s face. With her mass of red ringlets and big eyes that, somehow, kept their sparkle.

    Syra snatched the keys from Piper and hobbled to the first cage, ��There��s always a choice.��

    ***

    ��This way,�� whispered Piper.

    Hall after hall, they crept, with Piper leading the way and the soft padding of small feet following close behind. At each turn they passed sleeping guards with darts poking from their necks.

    ��Where''d you learn that?�� Syra asked as they turned a corner.

    ��I''ve learned a lot from Morin over the years, and not just how to play dumb.��

    The sound of movement made Piper freeze, halting them.

    ��What the hell is this?��

    Syra peered around the corner to see two guards pulling the barbs from their necks.

    ��That little bastard shot us. Oo-hoo, Morin��s not going to like this.��

    ��We��ll have to find another way around,�� Piper whispered, backing away. ��We can��t����

    ��Hey! Piper, is that you, you little shit?��

    Heavy footsteps sent the children running down the hall.

    ��Run.�� Piper grabbed Syra��s hand and pulled, but she hesitated. ��Run,�� he repeated.

    But she was frozen. Her eyes locked on the school of tiny bodies scurrying away in pure terror.

    No.

    ��No. I can��t.��

    Piper loosed his hand as the footsteps grew louder, but Syra��s face hardened and a spark flared in her eyes, ��I won��t.��

    She stepped away from Piper as two guards rounded the corner with their long, menacing shocksticks. They grinned as she squared off with them, gripping their sticks with sure hands. Syra steadied her breaths, pushing away the lightheadedness, and stared them down.

    ��Well, if that��s how you want it, missy.��

    They charged forward, and she charged her hands.

    In one quick blow��and to the guard��s complete surprise��a golden barrier knocked both back on their asses, issuing an excited yip from Ten. But the guards were quick to rise, and Syra swayed on her feet.

    ��All out of juice, I see.�� One guard said, a trickle of red leaving his mouth. ��That��s too bad.�� They lunged again, this time with staffs ready.

    Syra threw up another barrier and light sparked and fizzled as the morakii ground against the plasma shield. Her legs shook and Piper saw the barrier flicker.

    The warmth of his hands on her arms made Syra jump, but he smiled up at her and she felt strength return in a wave of heat.

    ��Come on!�� Piper called down the hallway. ��Don��t just stand there, help her!��

    It was like tiny little suns smiling down her all at once as they channeled their mana��what little they had left��into her body. The barrier widened and thickened until the morakii��s glow were mere tealights against a sunny day. Syra��s body tingled, like it did at the mana pool, but this time her chest burned. Hot and strong, and seriously pissed off.

    ��This ends, now.�� Syra lunged forward, throwing her arm out and sending the barrier careening into them, smashing them into the far wall. The children cheered, but Syra��s gaze was locked onto the men who insisted on standing back up.

    ��Watch them,�� she commanded Piper and marched forward.

    They came with their sticks again. The first, aimed for her stomach, she caught. The shock made her muscles seize, but she held fast. She let the energy build. First in her hand, then her stomach and chest, and then she drew it down her arm into her free hand which she jabbed into the guard��s neck.

    His body tensed and she felt his muscles twitch as his eyes rolled back. She let his body fall, but kept his stick. She didn��t wait for the second guard to gather himself. The stick went up then arched down with a loud thwack as it brought the guard down with it.

    He was still conscious, but groaned loudly. Too loudly. She flipped him over with her small, bare foot, and sunk the stone-end of the staff into his gut, sending him into spasms until he lost that consciousness.

    ��Now which way?�� She looked to Piper, who still watched wide-eyed.

    ��T-this way,�� he pointed down the hall to the right where the alley door beaconed.

    ��No,�� Syra stopped him short, ��which way to Morin��s room?��--

 |Chapter 29| Monster

    <hr>

    Syra��s trek to Morin''s room left the halls quiet with nothing but sleeping bodies behind them.

    "Keep the young ones outside," she hugged the wall with a light grip on the doorknob, "they don��t need to see this."

    Piper grabbed at her arm making her pause, "But I do."

    Syra looked down at the boy in his sagging pants and shirt that frayed at the edges. His narrowed eyes leered up at her, their stifled flames finally allowed to burn.

    "Willow?" Syra turned to the young girl behind her.

    "I��ll watch them." Willow released Syra''s gown and herded the others away from the door.

    The door banged against the wall as Syra charged into the room, finding a startled Morin hunched over books and bottles at his desk.

    "Who the hell let you out?" He leapt from his chair and dashed for the staff leaning against a cabinet.

    "I did." Piper slid around Syra and loosed a dart from his bow, striking Morin in the neck.

    Morin flinched from its sting, then plucked it out without as much as a fumble. His gaze wavered a moment, but light shimmered just beneath his skin and he tossed the dart aside with a sneer.

    "Piper, you should know better than to use my own work against me. Your little tricks won''t work." He dashed across the room and reached for his staff.

    His fingers just grazed its wooden shaft when a thin bolt of light struck him in the side, sending him into a twitching fit on the floor.

    "But this will." Syra stood wide-legged in front of Piper, the shockstick gripped tight in her hands. Its morakii tip gleamed and sparked as light veined up the shaft from her hands.

    "You little bitch," he coughed, leaning against his staff on wobbly legs, "I''m gonna��"

    Another bolt shot from the stone as Syra sent the burning energy surging through the staff. Cracks splintered as light pulsed through the wood, and Syra let the arc sear into him long enough to bring his face to the floor.

    "Stay down."

    Piper watched in awe as Morin convulsed and wretched, his spasms rubbing his face in the puddle of vomit.

    "You''re a disgrace," Syra hissed, teeth bared. "Filth. Vile scum to be picked off a boot with a stick."

    His mouth wagged and air hissed in spurts as his twitching cut off any words.

    "Enough of your bullshit," she said, handing Piper her staff.

    Her outstretched hands gripped the air and his outline shimmered. Inch by inch he rose from the floor. Syra''s veins glowed under her skin and she winced from their burning, but her glare remained fixed on the man hovering in the air.

    "Tie him up."

    Piper grabbed the ropes from the chest by the bed and knotted Morin''s wrists to the bed posts.

    "Nice and tight now, just how he likes it."

    Syra released her grip and Morin dangled like a grub on fishing line.

    "This is your chance," she said to Piper, stepping back, "take it or leave it. Either way, you live with it."

    Should I be letting him do this? Syra asked herself as she watched Piper��s frail body beat and lash and slice the monster hung above the bed. Is this��is this even right? Maybe I should��ve just knocked him out like the rest and been done with it.

    Her mind paused and a deep, firm voice lifted its head, No. Not enough.

    You don��t have time for this, the voice''s twin argued back. They��re looking for you.

    I don��t care. They can wait.

    This is stupid, stop. Knock him out and let the city council take care of him.

    The council won''t do shit. And I''m not about to let him pick up where he left off.

    But, this isn��t you.

    Oh, but he deserves it.

    She stuffed the small voice into its box and stepped back to take in the full image of Morin hung bruised and bloodied in front of his victims. The bandage on his neck was gone, and her teeth marks shone in a glistening glory. Yet they paled in comparrison to Piper''s handiwork.

    "Your turn," Piper held out the red scalpel to her.

    She stared down at it, debating if his screams would make her feel better. He certainly seemed to enjoy hers. But the blade was dulled and lost her attention. It was the bottle of thick, shimmering, red liquid sitting proudly atop his desk that stole her eye.

    "Ninety-percent pure, huh?" She plucked the bottle up and gave it a swirl, "Must be pretty potent." She took a syringe from its rack and filled it��slowly��and took her place in front of the dangling alchemist. His once pride-filled eyes now clung to the needle in her hand, and she smirked at how his lips trembled. "Now be still, this might sting a little."

    "You crazy cunt! What are you��" Morin��s eyes bulged and he squirmed as the needle dug into his neck. His pupils dilated, his skin glimmered, and his eyes rolled back in near euphoria. His wrinkles faded and his posture straightened. The blush of youth returned to his cheeks, and grew redder, and redder still. Then his face became concerned. Gravely concerned, and he screamed as the skin along his veins sizzled.

    "It''s too strong," Piper whispered and Syra nodded.

    "He wanted ninety-percent pure, and he got it."

    All along his body, lines burned through his skin as Syra''s blood circulated. He shrieked and writhed, coughing up blood as his skin charred, blistered, and cracked. He convulsed and Syra watched his eyes become bloodshot, then dim as the room quieted.

    "It''s done." The syringe fell from her hand and she turned away from body, "Now where?"

    Piper tossed the scalpel to the floor and calmed his breathing, "To a safehouse. I know the lady who runs it. She''ll help."

    "Good. Let��s go." Syra grabbed her clothes from the pile by the bed and snatched the pendant from Morin��s neck before slamming the door shut behind her.

    ***

    Piper led Syra and the others through empty streets to a homely cabin of two stories and a small garden. The windows were dark and it took a few knocks for a light to travel from the top window to the door.

    "Who on Erd is up at this hour?" A scratchy voice limp with sleep answered the door accompanied by an older woman in a fluffy blue robe.

    "Baba?" Syra stared wide-eyed at the woman with a wild bedhead.

    "My, my, this is a surprise. What are you--"

    Syra threw her arms around Baba and muffled a wail.

    "Heavens, dearie, what happened?" Baba cooed, embracing the shaking girl.

    Piper stepped forward with a grim face and held out the pendant, "Morin."

    Shadows etched across Baba''s normally bright face, and she puffed herself up--even her robe seemed to bristle, "That boorish, sick brute! He��s no alchemist at all. A true monster, that one! An outright disgrace to us all."

    "That��s what I said." Syra whimpered when her sobs had softened.

    Baba patted her on the back and led her through the doorway, "Now, you come right on in and sit down. All of you. Come, come. I��m surprised you��re even standing after going through all that."

    The children filed in and huddled together among the chairs and sofa and on the fuzzy rug on the floor, and Baba rummaged around for any spare blanket.

    "Here, eat." She laid out a platter of cookies on the table. "You need your energy, and I baked these fresh today. Piper, make the tea. And be sure to add the sundrops--they''ll need the extra boost."

    She then stopped and looked around, as if suddenly aware of something missing, "Where are the others?"

    "Others?" asked Syra from the couch.

    "Your siblings, and the broody one."

    Syra dropped her half-eaten cookie and shot to her feet, "They��re still out there. They��re probably still looking for me. I have to find them."

    Baba took a gentle hold of her and sat her back down. "Hold it right there, missy. You��re not going anywhere. Not like that."

    "But I need to let them know where I am. That I��m okay. They might still be on the train--they might already be gone!"

    "Sh-sh, don''t worry yourself silly. We''ll find them. Just not out there."

    "What do you mean, not out there? That''s where they are: out there." She pointed a shaking finger at the door.

    "Drink first." Baba scooted the cup across the table, "You��ll need your strength to do it."

    Syra chugged the purple tea in two mouthfuls, "Now what?"

    Baba sighed and took the cup from her hands, "Are you sure you��re feeling up to this?"

    "I can rest later, but only after we��re all together."

    "Alright, then."

    Baba scuttled to the hallway closet and took a small pouch and dish from the top shelf.

    "Have you ever heard of a familiar?" she asked, lowering herself onto the cushion next to Syra.

    The image of the dusty red butterfly fluttered from her memory, "I''ve heard of them. And I saw Valen''s once, but that''s all."

    "They''re simple in theory," Baba set the dish and pouch out on the table, "extensions of consciousness you control from a distance. But can be difficult to master. It requires a good bit of power and focus--you might only have a few minutes before it dissipates."

    "Then we better get started, before they get too far away."

    Tugging open the pouch, Baba poured the fine sand onto the dish, "The sand acts as the medium for the mana to flow through. Hand?" Baba motioned for Syra''s hand and drew a needle from the pouch''s ribbon. She gave Syra''s finger a quick prick and squeezed a couple drops of blood out onto the sand. "The blood is the conduit, connecting your mind with the familiar."

    Syra stared down at the red and gray pile that glittered slightly, "It''s...not doing anything."

    "Of course, not. A puppet can''t move without a puppeteer." Baba shoved Syra fingers into the sand, "So make it move."

    The sand was surprisingly warm and made her arm hairs prickle. The inside of her head tickled and her vision went blurry. Warmth surged through her body and her head lolled as her eyes became heavy--as if falling asleep with her eyes open.

    "My head feels...fuzzy." Her words came out slow and jarbled.

    "Good, it should. Now, focus on what you want it to do. Imagine your siblings, focus on their faces, on their scents, on how they feel."

    "How they feel?"

    "Their vibration. Tune into that frequency. Use it as a waypoint--as a beakon. And then, follow it."

    Their vibration? Oh, like the ripples!

    She closed her eyes and sent her mind back to shack. To the room where the kila lay limp and panting. Where she felt the air buzz and sway in waves. The warm, comforting waves from Cassius; the waves of heat from Petra; and the soothing waves from Aidan.

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    Her fingertips tingled and she felt the sand vibrate and shift within the dish. But she dared not open her eyes in fear she might lose focus.

    "That''s it, keeping going. Imagine their faces. Link each frequency with a face. Then a voice, then a scent. Anything you can use to identify them."

    Where are you?

    Syra placed herself back on the train. Watched the sweat drip from Cassius'' brow. Heard Petra''s heavy breathing and snarky retorts, smelled the blood on Aidan''s shirt.

    And then she was staring up at a ceiling, but her eyes remained closed.

    Where is this?

    She looked about the ceiling, catching nothing familiar. She followed the edge of the ceiling down to a wall. But in front of the wall--and obstructing her vision a slight--were hands. And beyond the hands was a girl. A girl with messy brown hair and closed eyes.

    "You see now, don''t you?"

    Syra heard Baba''s voice, but not to her left where she was sitting. But from her right where she leaned forward over the dish, staring down at her.

    "This is really weird." Syra''s voice did not come from the girl on the couch, but instead hummed through the cloud of mist around her field of vision.

    Baba chuckled and left the couch, "It always is, the first time."

    Syra watched from the dish as Baba cracked open the front door.

    "Now go. Hold on to those beacons and find them. You don''t have long."

    She went to stand but the mist seemed to move on its own, shifting in whichever direction she wanted to go.

    "Hurry now. Fly," Baba waved from the doorway.

    "Fly?" Looking from Baba, to her body on the sofa, to the bluging eyes of the children below her, she saw a shimmer in a mirror. Hovering mid-air, a lavender bird flapped its long, slender wings in the reflection.

    "Yes, fly. Now go, go. Time''s a wastin''."

    Syra''s focus returned to the open door and the sky beyond it. And with a mere thought, she was out the door, soaring through the street, and up into the air.

    This is amazing!

    The city streets became thin lines as she rose on the night wind. A splattering of tiny lights wound off into the distance and, for a moment, Renguard became a beautiful sight. It was the pillar of light that shimmered on the mist that called her back to her mission.

    "Use it as a waypoint--as a beacon." Baba''s voice echoed to her.

    That must be them!

    Downward she dove, soaring across the rooftops like a seabird over the waves. The beacon grew larger as she neared, but the farther she went, the weaker she felt.

    I must...too far...can''t...have to. Her thoughts passed by in a jumble as the connection strained.

    Almost...there.

    She focused on the halo of light wandering between the buildings, until three figures ran down the street under her.

    "Syra!" She heard Petra call out.

    "Shh! We can''t get caught, too." Cassius hushed at her.

    "I''m here!" Syra screamed through the mist and banked into the alleyway.

    All three looked up with wide, searching eyes, startled by the familiar voice.

    "What is that?" Petra gripped at her hilt as the shimmering albatross hovered over them.

    "Come," it said, in a firm but light-hearted tone.

    "Syra?" Aidan stepped forward, examining the swirling body of dust and light that threatened to fall apart.

    "Come," she repeated, feeling her energy draining and her connection weakening, "this way."

    ***

    The familiar was a skeleton of crumbling dust by the time Baba opened the door for them.

    ����Bout time you showed up.�� She smirked behind the creaking door as they caught their breath on the front stoop.

    ��Baba?�� The party spoke in startled unison.

    ��You sent the bird?�� Petra pointed a finger, not particularly happy at the thought of being tricked.

    But Baba��s smile remained, ��Nope. She did.��

    Surprise faded to relief as she pulled back the door to reveal Syra drooped over the living room table, her face pale but with a wide grin greeting them.

    ��Syra!�� the twins cheered from the doorway.

    Without a word, Aidan dropped his pack and stormed into the room, eyes fixed on the girl scrambling to her feet.

    Shit, here comes the lecture.

    His narrowed eyes made her falter and she flinched when his hands rose to her face. There was a rush of wind, and a tightening around her arms and back, and the sudden smell of warmth and sweat.

    ��Where were you?�� Aidan��s voice strained from above her, where his chin rested atop her head. She could smell the fearscent on his skin.

    Startled by his closeness, her words did not come. She stood rigid and silent, her mind fumbling to put the past hours into comprehensible speech.

    ��I��m sorry.�� A squeak wisped past her lips.

    ��Sorry? About what?�� He craned his head to see her face, but she did not look up from his chest. ��Syra, what happened?�� He took her by the arms and stared down at her, unable to hide his concern. But fear made his words sharp and she stumbled to form her own.

    ��Easy, Aidan,�� Cassius hurried to his sister��s side and placed a calming hand on Aidan��s shoulder. ��She��s scared enough as it is. Yelling��s not going to help.��

    ��I��m not���� he caught himself and stepped back, ��I��m sorry. I was just��worried, is all.��

    ��We all were,�� Cassius pulled Syra into his arms and she began to tremble, ��but we��re all here now.�� He wiped a small tear from her eye and smiled down, ��That��s what��s important, right?��

    Syra gave a nod and took a deep breath to settle her nerves before setting herself on the couch.

    ��Now that we are all here,�� Petra said, stepping into the room and giving its inhabitants a thorough look-over, ��why are you here?�� She cast her inquiring gaze over Baba, ��Don��t you have a shop to run?��

    ��I do.�� Baba closed the door and returned to her teapot, Petra��s accusatory tone sliding away like rain off a duck. ��I have to restock sometime, dearie, and this is the center of trade. Plus,�� she plunked a second crystal into the pot, ��it��s good to have a wide market and Renguard keeps me busy year-round. Tea?��

    ��I��ll pass.�� Petra dropped her pack by the wall and sat next to Cassius, taking a cookie on the way. ��But if you��re here on business, then who are they?�� She pointed to the gathering of lost, watching eyes that huddled by the fireplace.

    ��They��re like me.�� Syra finally piped up, staring into the purple water in her cup. ��They were taken, too.��

    The logs burned low as Syra described Morin��s operation: the cages, the children, the draining room with its bottles and tubes and needles, and the theater of happy patrons awaiting their share of the goods. Her goods. Her face was flat and her tone dry, but Cassius held tight to her hand as she divulged their escape and Morin��s fate.

    ��I killed him,�� she finished, her gut wrestling with both satisfaction and guilt. ��My blood killed him.��

    ��Serves the graga right.�� Petra stuffed another cookie in her mouth to keep from tainting the younglings�� ears. ��I would��ve done much worse.��

    ��As would I.�� Aidan passed a sympathetic gaze across the table to Syra. ��You did nothing wrong��you were protecting yourself and these children. Who knows what would��ve happened to them had you not acted.��

    His words soothed the knot in her gut, but not the tickling of doubt in the back of her mind. To kill for food or protection was one thing, but the burning urge to see another suffer made her stomach sick. Not just because it felt wrong or because it broke both mage and dragon code, but because for a moment��when true fear enveloped Morin��s eyes right before they rolled back into his head��she was glad.

    See, even they agree he deserved it! The small voice cooed like an imp in her ear.

    He deserved it, Syra repeated to herself with a long exhale, I had to get us out somehow. A warm wave of relief threatened to settle her nerves before her chest tightened again and she bit her lip in frustration. Then why do I feel so shitty?

    The voices went silent at the warm pressure atop her head.

    ��It��s alright,�� Cassius said with his head resting against hers, ��I��d be worried if you didn��t feel shitty.��

    ��Language, Cassius,�� Aidan hushed, eyeing the huddle of tiny heads.

    Cassius gave no heed and wrapped a firm arm around his sister, ��I��m sure they��ve heard worse.��

    A weak grin poked out from under Cassius�� arm.

    Leave it to Cas to make me feel better.

    She couldn��t tell if it was his familiar scent, his warmth, or his empathy at work, but slowly her muscles relaxed and her breathing slowed.

    ��I just wish there was another way.��

    ��Well, the only thing that matters now is keeping you all safe.�� Baba said, handing Syra a blanket that smelled of soot and herbs.

    ��What about them?�� Aidan asked, seeing only one blanket. ��Won��t the children need����

    ��The children will be fine, don��t you worry. I have plenty in Edgewood.��

    ��Edgewood? But that��s days away. How����

    ��A witch has her ways.�� Baba��s eyes twinkled and she beckoned the children with an outstretched hand. ��Come. Let us find you a safe place far from here.��

    She nodded to Piper who gathered them up, hand in hand, and herded the lot to the hall closet.

    Spying the door, Willow squirmed and pulled away, ��No! I don��t wanna go!��

    Baba paused to allow the nervousness to die down and looked to Piper.

    ��Sorry,�� Piper knelt down and took Willow��s quivering hand, ��nothing good ever came from closed doors.��

    He stroked her tiny hand with a gentle thumb and spoke softly, ��It��s going to be alright. I promise.��

    Willow��s eyes darted between Piper and the door, ��How do you know?��

    ��Because I��ve been there.��

    ��Really?�� Willow gasped up at him wide-eyed.

    ��Oh yes!�� Piper half-chuckled with a grin. ��There��s food and big, warm beds with soft blankets, and a garden that sometimes sparkles at night.��

    ��Really?��

    ��Yes, I promise.�� He ruffled her hair with a quick pat.

    ��What��s a garden?�� Ten asked from the back of the group.

    Piper paused, but his pity soon evaporated, ��How about we go find out?��

    With the children calmed, Baba stepped up to the door.

    ��Do you know what I love about doors?�� she asked them. ��They can go anywhere, if you have the right key.��

    With quick precision, Baba��s finger traced a circle upon the door, leaving a glowing ring in its path. Runes emerged from the ring and organized themselves in intervals like a dial. Of these, Baba swiped five into the ring and onto each she pressed a finger. Baba��s fingers sank into the wood and she twisted her hand as if turning a doorknob. She winced and the door hummed. As she retracted her hand, the children gasped at her bloodied fingers. Blood threaded through the grains of wood as the glow took on a bluish hue. The dial of runes spun, stopped, and spun again, back and forth until the humming stopped. The glowing sigils faded, seeping into the wood, and the door clicked open.

    Baba breathed a sigh at the sight of the living room in her Edgewood cottage, ��Here we are.��

    The entire room was silent in awe, even Syra.

    ��Oh, don��t look at me like that,�� Baba scolded the young mage. ��You act like you��ve never seen a bridge spell before.��

    ��I��ve heard of them,�� Syra said sheepishly, ��but performing them is reserved for postgrads and Magus.��

    ��Hmph,�� Baba scoffed but withheld her lecture on intellectual freedom, ��that��s fine, I suppose. Can��t have students losing fingers.��

    Baba led the children through the doorway, but Piper held back a moment.

    "Thank you," he said to Syra, his face finally gaining some color. "I''m so sorry I brought you into all this, but...you really did save us. We won''t forget it."

    Syra gave him a weak grin and waved him goodbye, "Just stay safe from now on, alright?"

    "You got it."

    "Alright, then, your turn." Baba patted Piper on the back and he, too, vanished through the doorway.

    "You two, as well." She waved the twins over, "I could use some help getting them all to sleep. Plus, your ledges are ready and waiting."

    Baba''s grin only gained her a groan from Petra, but Cassius strode right in.

    "Come on," he tugged her along with him, "one verse should do it."

    Their voices gradually faded, but Aidan kept sharp eyes on the doorway.

    "That boy''s the one you stopped to help, right?" Aidan asked when the singing started.

    "Barely. He actually helped us find the��"

    "Didn''t I warn you to be careful who you help?"

    "And you expected me to do what, exactly? Leave him? Like we did Tilly?" She glared up at him, "He''s a child��a throwaway. They all are."

    He had no rebuttal for that.

    "I told you," she said, tugging the blanket tighter, "I��m not that kind of monster."

    He relaxed and stared at her eyes that still kept watch over the closet door, "No, you''re not."

    "I was scared," he said after some silence, pulling her attention from the closet. He strained to keep the lines of his face from deepening as he sorted through the tumult of feelings in his head. "I woke up, and Petra was panicked. Yammering on about how you were taken, and how she couldn��t find you. I��I was scared. I had no idea where you were, or where to even look."

    A barrage of ��you should haves�� raged behind his tongue, but the small figure at his side shivered in shock, and he swallowed them.

    "I still can''t believe he did that to you." His voice cracked looking down at her bandages. "That our own alchemists would do that to you, or them. I mean, to use children for Erd''s sa��"

    "Can we not talk about it anymore? Not tonight." Syra gripped at an elbow and looked away.

    Something was wrong. The way she focused on nothing. How she chewed the inside of her cheek and her fingers scrubbed at the dead skin around her nails. His jaw clenched.

    "That wasn��t all that happened, was it?"

    His low whisper barely passed her ears, but her body tensed. Her nails dug into the dirty cloth at her arm and her eyes darted between his face and the floor.

    Aidan��s gut seized and he took a light hold of her wrist, "Syra��"

    She snapped her hand away as if his touch burned.

    "I��m sorry." She caught herself and held his hand close, the ring around her wrist still red. "I just...I just need some time, too."

    Time to forget. Forget that place, that smell, and all those staring faces. His face, most of all.

    She swallowed hard as she pushed away the smell of Morin''s greasy hair and the taste of his blood on her teeth. Even her cheek still stung a little from the slap her bite had awarded her.

    Aidan''s chest tightened seeing her eyes muddy over. "Of course, I''m sorry," was all he managed to say.

    But it was enough, for now. She let her body droop and leaned into him, focusing on his warmth and his scent, "I take it we missed the train?"

    Aidan finally laughed, "Oh, yes. It''s probably back in Dairos by now."

    Her face drooped, but he pulled it gently into his chest, "It''s alright��it''ll be back tomorrow. But that means there''s no sleeping in."

    Great, right when I could actually use it.

    She curled herself into him and listened to the steady lub-dub under her ear.

    "I''m just glad you''re alright."

    Aidan rested his chin on her head, "Me too. Though, I can''t believe Petra was hiding such a gift like that."

    The memory of Petra''s song-and-lights show brought a smile back to her face.

    "Seriously, she was amazing. If I wasn''t scared shitless, I''d have said it was quite beautiful." She gave his hand a squeeze, "Like your mother''s."

    Her mind went back to a fading Aidan and the black vines that ate his life away.

    "Why do you think it affected you like that? Petra said it was Arrun poisoning, but you''re human. I know your mother was Gifted, but it still shouldn''t have nearly killed you."

    Syra felt his face flatten.

    "I really don''t know. If it doesn''t kill Tal, then I have no idea how I could be..."

    He went suddenly still and Syra craned her face up at him. He had that distant look.

    "What? What is it?"

    "It''s a bit farfetched, but maybe...maybe that old tale is actually true. The one about the First Prince being saved by the Fae tree. Mother used to tell it to me all the time, but I just thought it a pretty story��and a bit of propaganda if I''m honest."

    "Wait, so you''re saying that if the story is true, then your bloodline is somehow tied to Mother Tree?"

    "You saw its bulbs, right? Leon said that''s how fae are born. The story goes that the First Prince was born ill, so the King asked the fae to save him. Then, in exchange for the fae''s autonomy, the tree absorbed the prince until the illness passed. If��again, a big if��that actually happened, then that early exposure could have tied him to the tree, and effectively the mana flow."

    Syra scrunched her brow, "That would explain why Leon kept calling you, Bati."

    "But what does that even mean?"

    Syra paused, a bit taken aback.

    Oh, that''s right. They only taught him the runes.

    "It''s Erdrumic, for ''brother''."

    "Brother?"

    "Yes. It struck me as odd at first, too. But I just figured he was being fond with you, so I didn''t put anymore thought into it. But, even if that story was true, could it still affect you after several generations?"

    Aidan was still a moment, hesitant, and Syra could see the words bubbling on his lips.

    "What if...what if I told you that I was born the same way?"

    Syra blinked back her confusion, "Pardon me?"

    "Again, I don''t know if it''s actually true...but, whenever Mother would tell me that story she would always end it with, ''And that is why you are our true prince; because the Land chose you, too.''"

    "Wow," Syra hushed and sat up, looking back at him as if with fresh eyes. "You...you never told me this."

    "It was bedtime story. How was I to know she was telling the truth? And we still don''t know if it actually is. This is all speculation at this point. Plus," his gaze lowered, "it''s not like we can ask her now."

    Syra rested herself back against his arm and gave his shoulder a quick nuzzle, "We can always ask Vesna. She seems the type to keep records of such things."

    "That she does," he said with a chuckle.

    "Until then, we''ll all have to be wary of those arrows. I don''t know if your body could tolerate another hit."

    Aidan looked down at her stern face, at how she forced the fear out with her steeled resolve.

    "Thank you," he said, blushing slightly, "for listening."

    A confident grin stretched across her face as she propped her chin on his shoulder, "Anytime."

    Her grin was unfortunately split by a wide yawn and Aidan stifled a laugh at her scrunched face.

    "And now, it''s off to bed for you. For all of us. Erd knows we need it."

    "But I''m not��" She gripped his hand but another yawn cut her off. "Damn it."

    "Uh-huh, exactly. Hey, Cas?" he called towards the closet and pulling Syra to her feet.

    "Yes?" Cassius poked his head out, "Something wrong?"

    "Yeah, this one''s yawning. Could you��"

    "Of course," he chuckled, "I know just the trick." Cassius shuffled his annoyed sister off to a spare room where their faint murmuring would fade with the glow beneath the door.

 |Chapter 30| Monkey Wrench

    <hr>

    Syra spent the morning bundled on the couch while Cassius fussed over her eating as much breakfast as she could stomach. In between his check-ins, Petra schooled her on proper voice exercises and pitch and come sun-high, the cottage hummed with duet voices that beckoned glances from passersby.

    ��Not too bad,�� Petra admitted and refilled their teacups with extra honey. ��A little wispy, but it��ll fill out with practice.��

    Syra petted the icy-blue stone strapped at her throat, ��Is there enough time for that? I��m not sure ��wispy�� will be good enough if it comes down to it.��

    ��Probably not. Took me a whole year to get the right muscle control. It is similar to firebreathing, though, but given your difficulty����

    Syra winced and chewed at her thumbnail, ��Perfect.��

    ��Look, it��s fine.�� Petra waved her concern away. ��I shouldn��t be surprised, but you��re doing much better than I thought you would, given your situation. And while you might not be able to master it yet, I��ll be there to pitch in if needed. Duets are more powerful, anyway.��

    Syra��s chuckle caught her off-guard.

    ��What?��

    ��You��ll pitch in?��

    ��Oh, hush and drink your tea. We need to be ready when Aidan gets back.��

    ��He��s still not back?�� Baba exited the closet with refilled backpacks and a look of genuine concern, ��The train leaves in an hour.��

    ��He did say that opening investigations can be painfully slow,�� said Syra. ��Piper probably had to show them the kennel and everything. Not to mention all the paperwork and��"

    ��Sorry we��re late,�� Aidan called as he and Piper entered the front door in a huff. ��They made Piper recount all the details.��

    ��All twelve years of it,�� Piper added, collapsing into a chair.

    "And they''re still not done. They''ll need you again for identification once suspects are brought in. I''d like to stay and help, but unfortunately we have other pressing matters."

    "It''s alright," Piper slouched back, an invisible weight seeming to finally fade, "I''m just glad it''s finally being dealt with."

    ��I��m so sorry you had to go through all that,�� Baba said and offered them the leftover pork chops and eggs. ��But you could be saving countless other children by snuffing these people out. I��m sure they would all thank you for it.��

    ��We haven��t caught anyone yet,�� said Aidan, ��but Morin��s invoices should certainly speed things up.��

    ��Speaking of speeding things up,�� said Baba, shoving Aidan��s backpack into his arms, ��You all need to get going. Cassius?�� she called into the closet, ��Are you all set, dearie?��

    ��No!�� cried a chorus of tiny voices from beyond the door. ��Not going!��

    Shuffling and whining murmered past the closet, and Cassius soon emerged through the doorframe with little Ten clamped around one leg.

    ��He stay!�� Ten demanded and tugged on his forearm, her cheeks red and wet. ��Is adopted now.��

    Cassius winced and gently pried her clawing fingers from his arm.

    ��I��m sorry, little one,�� he knelt down and patted her small, freshly-combed head, ��but there are others counting on me to help them��just like Piper and Syra helped you.��

    ��Oh��is that why you go? Not ��cause us?��

    ��No, not at all.�� He hugged her tight until he felt her chill dissipate. ��Our family is in danger, and we have to go protect them. Do you understand?��

    Ten nodded with a loud sniffle.

    ��Good, I��m glad. Now, I need you to help Piper and Willow take care of the others, alright? They��re like your family now. You think you can do that for me?��

    ��I guess.��

    ��You guess? You promise?�� He smirked and gave her arm a light tickle.

    She giggled and gave him a final nod, ��Yes, yes, promise!��

    ��Good.�� He gave her one last hug, ��Thank you, Rain.��

    Goodbyes were said and Piper herded the children back to their room. Cassius joined the others in preparations and Syra eyed him down.

    ��Rain?��

    ��That��s what she chose,�� he said, massaging his arm. ��Said the sound makes her feel better.��

    ��You��re going to have to visit them now, you know that right?��

    ��Let��s just focus on surviving Marrak and then we can talk visitation.��

    "So, what''s going to happen to them?" Syra asked Aidan. "Can the orphange handle them all? Will they be separated?"

    "Not anytime soon, if I can help it." Baba said, giving Aidan an grin.

    "Renguard''s orphanage is still placing its current wards," he continued, "but Baba offered to foster them until space opens up. Apparently, a group of young mages is too hard to resist."

    Baba met his smirk with fork pointed at his nose, "It''s better than that watered-down academy of yours! Just give me a couple years and they''ll be running the streets themselves."

    "I don''t really think that will be necessary, Baba, but I am certainly grateful for any help you do give them. At least, until they''re able to be placed��academy or otherwise."

    ��Fine fine, suit yourself." Baba waved him away and turned her attention to their backpacks, "Now, is everyone here ready? Crescent Bay is the last stop, but after that you��ll be in Nord territory,�� she eyed Petra down, ��so be on your best behavior. We don��t need a second war starting.��

    ��It��ll be fine,�� said Petra, surprisingly sincere, ��I��ve spoken to them multiple times at our border with no issue.��

    ��You were also a dragon at the time, I bet,�� said Baba. ��What they will see this time is three humans crossing a highly contested border. Meaning, you must make sure you find the escorting party when you arrive at Crescent Bay. You��re already a day late, so I pray they��re still there.��

    ***

    Crescent Bay met them with a wet chill, the cool mist beading on their skin. And while the flowering canopies smelled of spring, winter clung to the sea breeze and threatened one last frost. Beyond the harbor and scattered houses, the Silvercrest Mountains loomed dark against the slate sky, their peaks hidden in low-hanging clouds.

    Petra smiled and breathed in the wind, ��Feels like home.��

    Home, right.

    Syra''s gaze swept down the mountain ridge to the valley road below, to the budding trade route lining King''s Way, to the rolling hills with Altaira waiting beyond.

    ��Soon,�� said Cassius, also casting a longing glance to their home range. ��For now, let��s find our escorts.��

    ��The border is north of the bay, past the harbor,�� said Aidan, leading the charge through the thriving fishing town.

    They passed the square and the fish market, and the little sweet shop Aidan took Syra once before their ship was called. Aside from the added shops and housing the harbor looked the same. The wooden planks still creaked. The streets still smelled of wet stone and fish. Even the tiny beach that hosted Valen''s swimming lessons still poked out from the outcrops. And beyond it all, ships of all sizes bobbed comfortably along the bay��s dark, rocky coastline. But despite this, she knew faces were missing; three specific faces that visited her on the bad nights. Now they watched her from the dock��that dock��as they passed the entry point to the navy''s section of the harbor. That dock where she and Aidan, and "The Mages of the Mist" triplets sailed off to the western shore and its needless war.

    Her eyes lingered there, watching the vestiges kiss and hug and cry, soaking up every last moment before they were shuffled off. Even her own forehead tingled from the phantom lips Aidan had left for encouragement. A year ago, the threat of a distant land and its "rampaging" dragons weighted her feet. But now, she welcomed the hourly commands and overfilled tents of rambunctious youths uncaring of status or origin. They were all soldiers��fodder, really��and all equally likely to die.

    "Excuse me, miss!"

    A gentle touch to her shoulder snapped her back to the boardwalk as she nearly walked into a passing man.

    "Oh, sorry! Pardon me!" Syra cursed herself and jumped out of the way. But as the hurried traveller passed, the glint of a coin bounced against his chest and froze her in place.

    "Would you hurry up?" Petra asked from the correct side of the street. "Stop dawdling."

    "You alright?" Aidan asked, joining her side. His eyes had found the dock, too. "It''s not an easy, is it? Being back here."

    But she shook her head, "No, it''s not that. I mean, yes, it is. But that''s not what concerns me." She nodded to the traveller as he jogged down into the marina to join an oddly large gathering of people huddled by one particular ship. "That man...he wore a bronze coin. And those people certainly aren''t dressed for a cruise."

    "What?" Aidan stiffened and strained his eyes to make out the crowd. She was right. He couldn''t see any coins from this distance, but he would recognize soldier armor anywhere. And these "soldiers" wore no banners. "Shit. They''re moving already?"

    "Where do you think they''re going?"

    "I don''t know. But I do remember Kaelem saying they were setting sail somewhere. And wherever it is, I bet Marrak will be there."

    "Meaning we don''t have much time before he makes his move."

    "Exactly. So, let''s get going. The border''s just up ahead."

    The road ended at a gate just below the mouth of a river. Beyond the gate walls, the river disappeared between towering canyons walls.

    ��That��s the Gaping Maw,�� said Aidan, struggling to take in the entire scene all at once, ��it marks our northern border with both the Nords and Montari.��

    ��We know what it is," said Petra, pointing to the western cliff. "It''s also our western border." Swimming through the gray mist above, dragon silhouettes cried and scouted the cliffs from overhead. ��That side is Ignis territory.��

    Syra thought she saw him shudder, but he kept his steady pace towards the gate.

    ��Right, so we��ll keep to the eastern bank, then.��

    ***

    ��State your business,�� A human guard called as they approached, both pen and sword ready.

    ��We��re supposed to meet an escort to Koth,�� said Aidan, holding his hand away from his hilt. ��Has one arrived yet?��

    The guard eyed his embellished hilt and scabbard, but nodded, ��One came and left yesterday. Seems you��re a bit too late.��

    ��Damn it.��

    ��Sorry,�� said Syra with lowered head.

    ��It��s alright,�� Aidan patted her shoulder. ��We can find them if we can just cross.��

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ��We can still cross without an escort, correct?" he asked the guard. "Merchants cross here all the time.��

    ��Not without papers. Is there someone who can vouch for you?��

    ��We weren��t given any papers,�� Syra whispered up at Aidan ��Did Valen give you anything?��

    He shook his head and approached the guard again. This time he exposed the small crest from under his vest.

    ��Just write down, ��Aidan Altair and party��, and let me vouch for us.��

    ��Altair?�� The guard faltered at the royal family crest stitched onto his shirt, ��As in, Prince Aidan Altair?��

    ��Aye, nice to meet you. I��m supposed to be meeting with Commander Stahdler in Koth, but ran into some��disciplinary issues in Renguard, which is why we��re late. If you��d like, send a raven to Master Valen at the palace and he will����

    ��Oh, so Valen sent you?�� The guard relaxed. ��No wonder we don��t have you scheduled��he never sends notice. Not timely ones anyway.��

    ��So, we can pass?�� asked Syra.

    ��Oh yes, go right ahead.�� He turned and waved for the other guards to open the gate doors. ��But do remember, once outside the gate you��re also outside our protection. So, do be careful. The nords who work here are nice enough, but I��ve heard stories of how ruthless some can be.��

    ��It��s not just nords, I assure you.�� Aidan patted his shoulder as they passed through, ��But thank you.��

    They followed the coastal path into the mouth of the Gaping Maw. The small merchant path followed the treeline by the river, but even the great oaks of the riparian corridor were dwarfed by the walls of barred stone.

    ��It��s like a painting,�� Syra said, pausing by a river shoal to appreciate the colored streaks that waved across the clifface. ��Do you think the Ignis painted all����

    A sharp whoosh cut her off and she jumped from the arrow lodged in the stones by her foot.

    ��One more step and my aim gets better.��

    Syra spun to see a nord archer step out from the brush, her white hair poking out from under her hood.

    "Why do you humans insist on trespassing?�� Two nords with shortswords flanked them and herded them towards the river. ��The river is ours, and so are the spawning grounds.��

    ��We��re not here for fish,�� Syra said, raising her hands. ��We��re here to see Stahdler."

    "Bullshit. You humans only want��"

    "Hold it, Tarsi." The archer lowered her bow and approached Syra with examining eyes.

    Syra stepped back but paused at the familiar lavender eyes, "Leti?"

    The nordess lowered her hood with a grin, "I thought I recognized that voice. What happened to your braid?"

    "Long story." Syra held out a happy hand, but a screech made her jump back.

    ��Easy, Igwi. They are friends.�� Leti stroked the mass of gray-and-white feathers that nestled itself within her snowy mane of windswept braids. But Igwi just flared her feathered tufts and trilled a screech in suspicious protest.

    "At ease,�� Leti said to the patrol. ��These are the ones we were sent to escort.��

    ��You were supposed to meet us at the border,�� Syra said as they followed Leti farther down the path.

    ��And you were supposed to be there yesterday.��

    ��Oh, right. Sorry about that. We����

    ��We camped just up here.�� Leti waved Syra��s concern away and led them through a thicket to a small clearing where three frosthooves munched away at the brush.

    ��Where��s Stahdler?�� Aidan asked, seeing only three sleeping mats.

    ��He had to go to Falorn to prepare for The Hunt, so you��re stuck with me.��

    ��Bashta,�� Petra hissed. ��The Hunt is today?��

    ��Shh.�� Cassius hushed her, nervously eyeing the surrounding nords.

    ��It��s okay,�� said Leti, ��Valen told us about you. Apparently, you gave the Gahirem quite a scare, so he made sure to warn us beforehand.��

    ��Thank you for being so accommodating,�� Cassius said with relief.

    ��We are neighbors after all.�� She gave him a grin, but then turned a more serious eye to Petra.

    ��Speaking of the Hunt, the Bud Moon is in two days, but the winds have been strong so Stahdler��s preparing just in case the skyrays come early. I��m assuming we can count on your firepower again this year?��

    Petra beamed, ��Definitely. I wouldn��t miss such a hunt for the����

    ��Come again?�� Cassius leered over at her. ��We are not here to hunt game, remember?��

    ��But I need to be there to lead them. Who��s going to plan the����

    ��Grandmaw Vega knows what she��s doing. Plus, Tarys is flying flank this year and he��ll���� Cassius paused at how her gaze clung to the skyline.

    ��Or is he the real reason you want to go?��

    ��Oh, shut it, Cas.�� Petra ripped her eyes from the sky and stomped off after the patrol.

    He chuckled and gave her a cheeky grin, ��Is the moon finally getting to you?��

    ��Suck a toad.��

    ��Why? It��s a valid question. You��re at that age now.��

    ��We��re the same age, foghead, and I don��t see your wings quivering.��

    Cassius let the silence win and diverted his gaze to the mountains.

    ��Just ignore her,�� Syra said when out of earshot. ��It��s probably just the moon talking.��

    ��It��s alright," he said with a shrug. "It��s not like she ever noticed anyway. It��s probably better that she doesn��t know.��

    Doesn��t know?

    ��Wait. Are you and Tarys still����

    ��Not currently,�� he said with a sad sigh edged with frustration. ��He''s been pretty hot-and-cold lately��pair bonding just ''isn''t his thing'', apparently. So, I��m just letting him be for now. No one ever thinks straight this time of year, anyway.��

    ��Shit, Cas, I''m sorry.�� Syra searched the rolling clouds in his eyes, ��But...you know she��ll find out eventually. And when she does, it��d be better coming from you, not him.��

    He chuckled, ��Since when should I be taking relationship advice from you?��

    Syra faked a scowl and smacked him across the arm. ��We were happy, I��ll have you know��before all this. So give me some credit.��

    But his smile held more sadness than joy.

    ��I��m glad you were happy, I really am. But do you really think you would have stayed happy? With him not knowing what you truly are? Could you��could you really forget us that easily?��

    ��You know I��d never����

    ����Cause I never did. Not once.�� The blue in his eyes faded, but his gaze was firm. ��Nine years was too long, Syra. I don��t want to think about anymore.��

    ��You speak like I��m not coming back.��

    ��But you��re not, are you? I see you two together��I feel it. I know you say you want to help the clan, but I also know you don��t want to leave. Not in here.��

    He pounded on his chest and Syra looked away.

    Cassius scoffed, ��I knew it. When you made that fancy spelltag back in Omei, I knew you were up to something.��

    ��I still don��t know how to power it, so it doesn��t really matt����

    ��Oh, you��ll find a way.�� Pride and pain played on his face, ��You always do, if you want it enough.��

    A guilty smile flickered on her face.

    ��I do want it,�� she admitted, casting a glance to the empty hand at Aidan��s side, ��but we both know that��s not always possible.��

    They travelled the rest of corridor in silence speckled with small-talk��most of which was Petra squeezing any hunting plans from Leti on the off-chance that she could join. And though the way to Koth was unpaved, Syra was thankful for the small paths that cut up through dense thickets of rock and pine and made the slopes a faster trek. By sunset, the guiding rapids led the way to a riverside settlement dug into the foothills of an alpine plain.

    ��Welcome to Koth,�� Leti said with an outstretched hand. ��It��s small, but growing.��

    From the hilltop, the agrarian settlement stretched down a rolling valley dotted with farm, shrub, and pine, while patches of snow lingered in the mountain''s shadow. Squat cabins of stone siding crouched against the wind as if to warm themselves with the earth, their living quarters nestled neatly underhill. Beyond the crowded huts, burly deer fat with fur huffed and dined on the yellow blooms and icy berries dotting the juniper fields.

    The roads were rivulets of mud and moss soggy from snowmelt, and Leti led the company to the largest cabin near the center of town. The shallow steps groaned with age, but the door was newly carved and bright with a fresh wax coating.

    Leti��s hard knocks were met by an older nordess blanketed in colorful shawls and donning a freshly pinned crown of bloom-ladened braids.

    ��Oh, Leti, my dear, there you are.�� She waddled out into the front stoop, unphased by the bowed legs under her, and gave her granddaughter a firm stroke down her furry arms. ��I thought you were supposed to be back yesterday.��

    ��I was, Muhmuh, but you know how the wind can change.�� She gave the elder a long peck on her stubbornly ruddy cheek. ��We were a bit late meeting up is all.��

    ��We?��

    Leti stepped aside to reveal Syra and company, though Syra was the only one not stooping under the eaves.

    ��Oh.�� She jumped at the sudden sight of humans at her front door.

    ��It��s alright, they��ve been invited.��

    ��Oh, is this the party Stahdler invited?��

    ��It is.��

    ��Well, in that case, welcome.�� She gave them a nervous but benign bow, but stared openly at the black-haired giant in front of her. ��You humans really are tall, aren��t you?��

    ��We can be,�� said Aidan, propping a hand on Syra��s head, ��but not always.��

    Butterflies raced from Syra''s stomach to her head, ��But I��m not��"

    ��Has Stahdler arrived yet?�� Leti bumped Syra��s toe with her heel.

    ��No, I��m afraid not. But his owl did.�� She dug a rolled piece of parchment from her pocket and handed it to Leti. ��He said the visitors are to stay with Blyth until he returns tomorrow.��

    ��With Blyth?�� Leti��s nose wrinkled. ��They��re guests, not test subjects.��

    Her grandmother just shook her head with a heavy sigh, ��Who knows what your brother is thinking? Certainly not me. But it��s getting dark, so you best scamper off before the frost finds you.��

    Blyth��s cabin was really just a large workshop by the river on the outskirts of town. Behind it, a smaller hut puffed steam and a waterwheel cranked and yawned under the torrent of the falls.

    ��Blyth!�� Leti pounded on the unevenly hinged front door, ��It��s Leti, open up.��

    No answer.

    Leti huffed but tried again. ��Blyth!�� she called louder over the rushing water.

    This time a metallic crash came from hut followed by a sharp, ��Damn it!��

    ��Great, now what?�� Leti rounded the cabin as Blyth stumbled out of the hut in a cloud of steam.

    ��What happened this time?�� Leti asked.

    ��The pressure��s been dropping and I can��t find the damn leak.�� The sooty old nord snarled and ripped the goggles from his head, clearing the fog with his wrinkled shirt.

    ��Looks like the entire hut is leaking.��

    ��Which is why I can��t see shit in there.�� He strapped the goggles back on and marched back to the hut, ��Now get your rump in here and help.��

    ��Are you completely blind? You have guests.�� Leti waved to the observing party, but he just beckoned them forward.

    ��Bring them too. The more eyes, the better.��

    ��This is not���� she strangled her shriek.

    ��This is not how we usually treat visitors,�� she said, turning back to Syra, ��but if you wouldn��t mind following me a moment?��

    The steam had cleared the small room, leaving Blyth to skuttle around the boiler room tightening every knut and valve he could spot.

    Syra flinched from the sudden heat, but Aidan stepped right in, eyes tracing the maze of metal pipes in their coming and going.

    ��Is this how you heat your houses?�� Aidan asked.

    ��Nice observation, young human,�� Blyth said with a grunted tug of a wrench. ��Now if you could just find the leak, we can get to steaming our food instead of ourselves.��

    ��Yes, sir,�� said Aidan, a bit taken aback by the command, and joined Syra in checking each joint for the hiss of escaping air.

    ��Anything?�� Blyth asked from under the boiler.

    ��Nothing yet, sorry,�� said Syra, wiping the sweat from her brow.

    ��Damn, well keep looking.��

    ��You could say, ��please��, you know?�� Petra barked from her side of the hut.

    ��I could say many things, young lady, and none of them ni��"

    ��Do you have any soap?�� asked Aidan.

    Blyth��s mind and tongue fumbled, ��Soap? No idea, ask Rasu.��

    ��Rasu?��

    ��Rasu!�� Blyth��s voice echoed off the pipes, eliciting chittering from the roof. Some thumping and scratching later, a small monkey swung in through the door and clambered up onto the shelves. ��Do we have any soap in here?��

    Rasu swung himself around the hut, his bright eyes and nimble fingers searching the scattered items littering both table and shelf until he pulled a dirty, half-used bar of soap from behind a tin of rusty bolts. He chirped and held it up to Aidan.

    ��Thank you,�� he said, taking the soap. ��You��re a smart little helper, aren��t you?��

    ��That��s an understatement,�� Blyth mumbled. ��Now what��s it for?��

    ��This,�� Aidan lathered the soap with water from his canteen and coated each joint with the foam until bubbles appeared on their own.

    ��It��s this one,�� Aidan said, pointing at the bubbling gasket.

    ��Well, look at that. The human has some wit.�� Blyth gave his work a surprised nod of approval.

    ��Wait, so humans can build a manarail but soap impresses you?��

    Blyth just smirked and wiped the soap away with a sleeve, smushing a wad a resin into the metal seam.

    ��Who do think came up with the idea of mana conduction in the first place?�� he asked, tinking his wrench on a pipe. ��Certainly wasn��t your alchemists, but don��t let me challenge your history books.��

    ��I don��t need history books,�� Aidan said, standing as upright as the roof would let him, ��I was there when it was being built.��

    ��Oh, I��m sure they refined it, and refined it well��no doubt you humans are masterful crafters.��

    ��Then what��s your problem?��

    Blyth put down his wrench and scooped Rasu up onto his shoulder, ��I��m just saying that credit should be given where credit is due��even if it was just a working theory.��

    ��Now,�� Blyth cut off Aidan��s retort with a hard pat to his shoulder, ��why don��t you all use the rest of that soap to clean yourselves up while I sear up some dinner? There��s a washtub by the cabin and we got plenty of hot water now.��

    ***

    The water was cold by the time everyone had taken their turn. But the towels were soft and the heat from the wood stove smelled of salty meat and herbs. By the time Rasu and Leti cleared the table of all its bits and bobbles, there was room for all.

    ��I��m not usually one for company,�� said Blyth, motioning to the cluttered sitting area. ��But there are some blankets in...one of the closets, so just sleep where you can.��

    ��What about the spare room?�� Syra asked. ��Is someone staying there? It looked neatly made.��

    Blyth��s fork hung in the air and he glanced over to Rasu who dined from his own makeshift highchair.

    ��I��d rather you not.�� Blyth strained to maintain eye contact before breaking under the confused stares. ��That room belonged to a partner of mine and I haven��t felt the need to go rummaging through it yet.��

    ��Oh, I��m sorry,�� Syra said, ��I didn��t mean to insult the dead.��

    ��I��m not dead!��

    A raspy screech startled the visitors as a huffing Rasu glared at them.

    ��And I��m still your partner, asshole, so don��t go making people think I died. I still have a reputation to keep.�� Rasu gave Blyth a quick, toothy snarl.

    ��Sorry, I just didn��t know how else to put it.��

    Rasu��s long tail twitched and he eyed the party with sharp awareness, ��Apologies for the confusion,�� he chittered with practiced words, ��I am his very-much-alive partner, and that room is clean because it��s my room.��

    ��Wait,�� Syra met his gaze full force, ��so you��re saying you used to be a nord, or that you��re a monkey who was given speech?��

    ��Both, technically.��

    ��But how?�� She examined the white fur on his chest, ��You have no spellmarks.��

    ��True. Not on the outside, anyway.��

    ��Let��s not get into this now, Rasu,�� said Blyth. ��Let them fill their bellies before their heads or else they won��t sleep well.��

    ��It��s fine,�� Petra said, having partially tuned out already. ��This one��s a mage, too, so we��re well accustomed to the magic garble.��

    Rasu looked to Blyth as if for approval, but Blyth just waved him off.

    ��Well, out with it now. Just don��t blame me if they fuck themselves up.��

    Rasu fixed his large, round eyes on Syra. Their amber flames fueled more by fear than enthusiasm.

    ��I��ll tell you, from one mage to another. But please, if you have any inkling of an urge to try this, I absolutely do not recommend it.��

    ��To put it simply, to apply a shapechange spell to one��s exterior��as you two have done�� he motioned to the twins, ��is just that: external. Temporary and completely reversible.��

    His gaze fell and his little hand gripped his chest fur, ��I��in my blind curiosity��wanted to try something different. ��What if, instead of applying the spell to one��s physical body, it was woven into their core?���� He chittered in mockery of himself but could only hang his fuzzy head. ��I really shouldn��t have been surprised by the result��seems so intuitive now.��

    ��Rasu?�� Syra asked with slow contemplation, ��By ��one��s core��, do you mean their����

    ��Yes,�� he tapped his chest, ��the spell is woven from the threads of a soulstone itself.��

    Syra sat back in her chair, a tad amazed and a tad disappointed, ��That is pretty intuitive.��

    ��It��s also irreversible. Even by the original caster. Which is why I��m still a tick magnet.��

    He forced a laugh, but Syra squirmed around inside her own mind.

    ��But why?�� she finally asked, her concentrated brow making her appear angry. ��You should be able to pull it back out and undo the spell. Shouldn��t you?��

    ��That��s the problem. Changing your soulstone changes your very essence. Not just your physical shape or species, but also your mind. You forget. You forget nearly everything. I lost all magical ability, and worse still��I forget my Name. My True Name��it just vanished immediately from my mind. So no, I can��t just ��pull it out again��. I was lucky that I told Blyth beforehand��taboo, I know��but he was at least able to get my speech back.��

    ��And now you��re stuck like this?�� Aidan asked, his voice kinder than usual. ��No magic or anything?��

    Rasu wiggled his stubby fingers in the air, ��Not one spark.��

    ��Which is why,�� he leered down at Syra who was noticeably deflated, ��I��ll advise you again, leave it alone.��

 |Chapter 31| Knifes Edge

    <hr>

    Syra woke to the smell of rain and the squeaking of stubborn metal.

    ��Come on, you wretched thing.�� Curses hushed from above and her eyes opened to see a pink rump and fluffy, white tail wriggling from atop the bookshelf.

    ��Rasu?�� she asked, half-asleep.

    The tail bristled and Rasu��s alarmed face peeked down at her.

    ��Oh, you��re up. Good.�� His fur flattened back down and he returned to the circular, half-open window just above the bookshelf. ��Help me with this thing, would you? Damn thing��s stuck again and rain��s getting everywhere.��

    Syra sat up just in time for a screech and loud thud as Rasu slipped and tumbled off the edge, plopping into her arms.

    ��You alright?�� she asked, chuckling at the angry, wet face that blinked up at her.

    ��Yes, I��m fine.�� He sprung from her lap and smoothed his fur as if dusting himself off.

    ��You want to try your luck with it?��

    Syra stood on the bed to reach the half-moon windowpane. Its hinges were rusted but gave after a firm heave.

    ��You should probably clean these. Or grease them, at least.��

    ��I know,�� he chided himself, ��I keep meaning to make a note if it, but just never do.��

    Syra watched him wipe up the rain puddles with a fur-covered blanket, imagining a full-grown nord mopping up instead of the smaller, tailed primate.

    ��Thanks for letting me use your room. I hope I��m not intruding too much.��

    ��It��s fine,�� he said and tossed the rag into a basket, ��it��s not your fault Blyth leaves such a mess. Plus, you��re the only one who��d fit in the bed.��

    Syra laughed at the image of the others with their legs hanging off the edge, but Rasu just studied her face.

    ��I��m sorry about what I said last night,�� he said, noticing her dark circles. ��I didn��t mean to keep you up.��

    Dinner��s revelation about soulbinding still echoed in her head, and the night only brought more questions.

    ��It��s alright, I��m glad you told me. It��s just��a lot to think about.��

    ��If you��re wanting to change to impress that human boy, don��t bother.��

    Her shocked face made him grin.

    ��I could smell his affection over dinner.��

    Rasu��s confirmation lightened her chest enough for a small smile to grow.

    ��Thanks, but it��s a bit more complicated than that.��

    ��Oh?��

    Syra sat herself back down on the bed, leaving room for Rasu to join her, ��Affection is one thing, but��a family��s another.��

    ��Oh, so it��s an incompatibility problem.�� His eyes searched his mind but only found disappointment. ��Yes, that would be a bit of a hurdle. One I don��t currently have an answer to, I��m sorry to say. But, are children really that imperative? You seemed to get along just fine last night��he barely left your side. Could you not be satisfied with that? Or, if not, you could always foster one. I��ve heard they��re having issues with throw����

    ��He needs an heir.�� Syra��s smile weakened. ��He��s a prince, so he��ll need an heir, eventually.�� She picked at the fabric by her stomach, ��As will I, I suppose.��

    ��That is tricky, indeed. And a harder decision. Would you be willing to trade your magic for this future you want?��

    Her gut coiled against such a decision, but released as the bedroom door sprung open and a half-soaked Petra barged in.

    ��Good, you��re awake. We could use your friend right now, so if you could grab Leti real quick, that would be great.��

    ��Hold on now,�� Syra fumbled to reorient herself, ��what��s happening?��

    Petra groaned. ��I just told you. Get up and get Leti. Aidan went to help Blythe and now that Tarsi fellow started some shit with him and won��t listen to anyone. Not even Cas.�� She grabbed Syra by the wrists and heaved her off the bed. ��So, let��s go.��

    ***

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Petra led them up the muddied hillside to the workshop atop the falls. Yelling pierced the crashing of water and the edge on Cassius�� voice warned of his waning patience.

    ��Let him go. Now.�� Cassius called from the cliff��s edge.

    Amongst the rain and mist, Aidan knelt on the slick wooden beam spanning half the width of the falls. His nails dug into its grooves, as Tarsi jerked at Aidan��s collar making him wobble and scramble like a wet cat.

    ��I don��t take orders from you.�� Tarsi brought a small blade to Aidan��s throat and snickered at the towering human brought low. Even the giant cogs of the turbine below seemed to creak in humor with him.

    ��But you do answer to me.�� Leti charged to the edge of beam, as if unaware of the 10-story drop awaiting a shaky foot.

    Tarsi eyed down his commander, but neither his hand nor foot wavered.

    ��Release him, Tarsi. Now.��

    The soaked hair around her face reminded Syra of little Rasu, but her eyes were sharp and frosted over, where any sympathy was frozen underneath.

    Tarsi hesitated, then steeled himself, ��I will not.��

    Syra felt Leti��s ice chip.

    "Listen to your commander, Tarsi," Blythe warned. "You have a family now, remember?"

    But Tarsi did not budge.

    ��I will not beg, Tarsi. But you are a dear teammate, and I don��t want to��"

    ��I will not,�� Tarsi repeated.

    ��So, you��re choosing to disobey orders, then? You know what that means, right?��

    ��I do.��

    Tarsi��s gaze was locked onto Leti and, if she squinted, Syra could make out the slight flicker of remorse under his hairy brow.

    ��Then why?�� Leti asked before Syra could. ��What has this man done to you?��

    ��Is he not the prince?�� Tarsi leered down at the Altairan crest crumpled in his fist. ��The human prince?��

    ��Aye, and what of it?�� Aidan hissed up at him, gaining himself a warning shake.

    ��You should have some say in it, right? The border?��

    ��Not currently, no. Foreign affairs are a different branch and����

    ��Then talk to them! Order them. Do something. Ever since you humans entered the bay, more of our people are becoming Bent." He shot a sorrowful glare at Blythe. "How do you except my son to hunt when his legs won��t work right?"

    "We��ve tried talking to that ��department�� of yours, but you still keep on coming. Even dragons know how to keep their borders, but you��you just keep toying with us.��

    Tarsi looked from Aidan down at the vortex of water churning below, ��Maybe this will teach you that we��re serious.��

    ��This will only teach them that you��re ready for war.�� Syra called out. She couldn��t tell if the burning in her chest was mana, or fear.

    A sneer grew on Tarsi��s face as he eyed her and the twins down, ��We are.��

    ��No, you��re not.��

    Surprise struck everyone as Cassius stepped forward onto the beam.

    ��Falorn is your only major city. And without our help with The Hunt you��d be struggling to keep your people fed. The humans have three times more manpower, and even more resources. You are not in a position to threaten them.��

    ��He��s right,�� said Syra. ��At this point, any confrontation needs to be done diplomatically��with words, not lives.��

    ��I��ve told you��we��ve tried! And what do you dragons really know of diplomacy? It��s only diplomatic when your clan gets what it wants, while my people are left to scavenge the wilds of the North, or the gauntlet of your cities. It��s only diplomatic when you give yourselves the advantage.��

    ��You��re right, it��s not fair,�� said Cassius.

    Tarsi paused, surprised by his validation but unconvinced, ��You know nothing of unfairness, dragon.��

    ��I know anger.�� The rain seemed to steam off him as the Empath��s walls thinned. ��I know the silent wail of being helpless. The sorrow that claws at you as you watch your people suffer for no fault of your own, and the rage at being unable to do anything about it. Because if you did��if you did stand up and demand change��you would only be inviting more suffering by retaliation.��

    Despite their icy hue, a warmth grew from his eyes, ��I know. And I know you know that standing there where you are, with your knife at his throat, is just a plea. A scream for attention because nothing else has seemed to work. You don��t want to kill him��to live with that scar on your heart, or his face haunting your sleep. You��"

    ��You know nothing,�� Tarsi repeated. ��You talk nice, but your words are empty. Like a vase that can only look pretty but has no substance to itself.��

    ��Excuse me?��

    ��I know your kind��you Empaths. How you steal the feelings of others. How you live through others without actually living yourself��without having to risk yourself. My feelings are mine, not yours. My people are mine, not yours. And whether I kill him or not is my decision, not yours.��

    ��Your decision, huh?�� The edge of Syra��s upper lip twitched and Cassius felt the buzz of static as Syra stepped onto the beam behind him.

    ��Fine. Here��s my decision: Leti,�� she called over her shoulder, ��if he dies, I will bite off his head myself.��

    Leti tensed and looked to Petra, but her gaze didn''t waver.

    ��And I��ll let her.��

    ��Tarsi,�� the edge on Leti��s voice vanished, ��I understand your intent, and your frustration. But this is not what Stahdler would want. It is not what I want. You are a valuable warrior and comrade; one I do not wish to lose. But if you do not release him safely, you will become nothing. You will be banished from these lands, your name from our mouths, and your children will hear nothing but curses for their father who betrayed their people. As you said, it is your decision, but as your comrade, I ask you to please, let him go.��

    Tarsi��s grip on the knife tightened and he ground his teeth against the cry in his throat. Syra��s heartbeat drummed over the roar of falling water, until his hands finally dropped.

    Aidan sprung from Tarsi��s hold and shuffled with careful steps towards Cassius. Cassius held out a hand, then froze. His eyes locked on Tarsi.

    ��So be it.�� Tarsi said and slammed a heavy foot down onto the beam.

    The vibrations echoed off the stone walls and Aidan��s legs wobbled. And then, inch by inch, he leaned.

    ��Aidan!�� Syra cried, but she was too far to reach him.

    It was Cassius�� hands that grabbed his arm before his feet left the beam. Aidan snatched hold of Cassius�� forearm, making him wince and nearly topple himself.

    ��Hold on, I got you.�� Cassius latched an arm under Aidan��s shoulders and squatted against the slick wood.

    Aidan��s hands shook as his face loomed over the churning of water and metal gnashing up at him. But Cassius heaved him up enough for him to scratch and clamber back onto the beam.

    ��Thank you,�� he said, crouched with white knuckles gripping the beam.

    ��You really don��t like heights, do you?�� Cassius chuckled as he helped him to his feet.

    ��Not particularly, no.��

    ��Well, you might have to get used to it,�� Cassius whispered as he walked him towards Syra��s outstretched hands, ��because she loves flying.��

    Both men looked up to Syra waving them forward, each envisioning their own version of the scaled sprite zipping above them. But they should have been looking down.

    Cassius�� foot hit the puddle first��a meek glob of mist, but just big enough for his boot to lose traction. His fall was not slow. Aidan managed to grab a sleeve, but gravity ripped apart the seam and pulled him down into the mist.

 |Chapter 32| Hidden Truths

    ��Cassius!�� Petra shrieked and nearly flung herself over the edge.

    All eyes searched the white froth below them, but saw no Cassius. Petra spun away from the edge, tripping and sliding down the hill as she searched downstream. Aidan followed after her, but Syra kept her arm outstretched.

    ��What are you doing?�� Aidan asked from the next safe landing. ��Help me look for him!��

    But she didn��t budge. She gripped at the cliff��s edge, stomach pressed into the mud and hand clinging at the empty air. It was shaking. And it was glowing.

    A cry escaped Aidan��s lips as a sparkle hovered just above the rotating blades. Syra clenched her fist and her arm muscles bulged as she pulled her arm back. Inch by inch, the sparkle grew, until a drenched and choking Cassius was lifted from the water.

    ��Be ready to grab him!�� Syra��s face was red and the skin on her arm shimmered as red lines veined outward.

    It burns.

    She gritted her teeth and blinked back tears as her body screamed from the inside. The usual warmth was now like fire, and her blood simmered from the surge of mana passing through them.

    It��s too much��too much at once. I can��t��I can��t keep this up.

    The skin on her forearm began to steam and sizzle as Cassius floated closer.

    ��Aidan, I can��t��" she screamed and her arm shook.

    ��You have to! Just a little more!�� Aidan pressed himself to the ledge and reached out, waiting for the chance to grab him. ��Just a little more��now pull!��

    Syra flung her arm back and Cassius flew upward, just high enough for Aidan and Petra to pull him onto the ledge. She slid down to the ledge and collapsed into a shaking ball, crying and gripping her arm, while Aidan and Petra fussed over Cassius as he coughed up the last bit of water.

    ��Thank Draco, you��re alive!�� Petra threw herself over her brother.

    ��Yes, but how?�� He wheezed under her weight.

    Aidan pointed to the ball that cried and smiled at the same time.

    ��You really have gotten heavy, you know.��

    Cassius stared at the burn lines that travelled up her forearm��red and blistering from the inside. She held her screams in, but his own skin stung as her waves of pain hit like needles.

    ��Are you alright?�� Syra asked, seeing his pained expression. ��Are you hurt?��

    She gripped his forearm and pain sliced through his arm. He yipped and yanked his arm away, recoiling into ball himself.

    ��Easy,�� Syra leaned over, careful to only touch his sleeve, ��just let me look at it.��

    From under his tattered sleeve, black lines veined from the festering bruise on his forearm.

    ��What the hell is this?�� Petra asked, grabbing his wrist for a closer look. ��This wasn��t from the fall��it��s spread too far.��

    Cassius winced from her touch and pulled his arm away, ��Nothing, just a��rash or something.��

    ��That is not a rash.�� Petra reached for his arm again, but he turned her away. ��Oh, good Lord, Cassius. Just let me look at it. When did this happen? Why didn��t you tell me?��

    Syra and Aidan watched in silent awe at the mother hen bawking at her injured chick.

    ��Cas, I��m serious.�� Petra prodded his shoulder. ��You could be poisoned. Why didn��t you just say something? I could��ve����

    ��Because I don��t know what it is!�� Cassius snapped back. ��And neither would you. So, there was no need to bring it up. We have way more pressing issues.��

    Petra��s mouth wagged.

    ��Those ��pressing issues�� require all of us to be alive, foghead. What if it got worse? You really think Marrak would go easy on you because you got sick?��

    ��Of course not. I��"

    ��Syra, you��ve met other Empaths, right?�� Petra asked, startling her sister.

    ��Well, yes, but none with��this. Worst I��ve seen is a fever, but that was because he was too stubborn to go see anyone.��

    ��You hear that? Too stubborn. He was too stubborn, and he got worse. That sound like anyone we know?��

    ��Enough, Petra.�� He groaned and covered the bruise back up. ��I get it, I��m sorry. But this is why I avoided it��your worrying just makes it worse.��

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ��Which is exactly why we need to find out what it is. We don��t even know if it��s curable.��

    ��Oh, it is. But just barely.��

    The clatter of stones was followed by an out-of-breath Blyth skidding his way down to take a long gander at Cassius'' wound.

    "Give me that." He snatched up Cassius'' arm and twisted it this way and that, and one sniff sent his head reeling.

    "Goodness, boy, do you even drain? You''ve absorbed way too much!" He gripped his wrist tight and glared down at him, "I don''t know what kind of masochism you''re into, but this...this festering will bring no one pleasure. And it certainly won''t help them, not in the long run."

    Cassius'' winced and Blyth relaxed his grip, but kept a disappointed eye on the veining bruise. "You should''ve just told them. Or me. For Erd''s sake, I could''ve at least let you borrow my cat.��

    Cassius'' brow twitched, ��Your��cat?��

    "You have a cat?" asked Syra.

    "What''s a cat?" asked Petra.

    ��Oh yes! A purebred Plumpkin from the finest northern line. A might chunky perhaps, but I find most good filters are.��

    ��Filter?�� asked Cassius.

    Blyth just shook his head, ��Nevermind, we''ll talk conversions later. Right now,�� he glanced up to where Leti held Tarsi at knifepoint, ��we need to find Stahdler, then get you healed up.��

    ***

    By the time they arrived back in town, Stahdler��s guard was freshly posted and disturbed by the scene that approached the commander''s cabin.

    ��You have a lot of explaining to do��, Stahdler leered at a shackled Tarsi after Leti described the events at the waterfall. He stood as rigid as the wooden columns around them, still garbed for travel, and Syra couldn��t tell if his sour expression was truly from anger or his braids being too tight against his head.

    He seemed to sense her questioning gaze and passed his judging eye over her, ��As do you.��

    ��Pardon?�� Syra stumbled in surprise as the icy stares of the guards turned on her.

    ��She didn��t know,�� Leti said, stepping between them.

    ��Didn��t know what?�� asked Syra.

    ��Didn��t you tell them? At the border?��

    Leti��s eyes drooped, ��I did not. My apologies, I didn��t think it necessary.��

    Stahdler nearly left his seat, "You didn''t think it was necessary?"

    ��Didn��t tell us what?�� Syra asked again, now more frustrated than curious.

    "For Erd''s sake, Leti..." Stahdler fell back into his chair, massaging his temples. "Well, you might as well tell them now. Before they make it any worse."

    Leti turned a solemn eye to her mage friend, ��Magic is forbidden here. To use it without proper approval is illegal and warrants imprisonment. Or worse, depending.��

    ��Forbidden?�� Syra��s jaw hung open and empty.

    ��How?�� Aidan asked. ��We ship mana stones to Falorn every year.��

    ��Out of bare necessity," Blythe said. "They worship different stones now. Dead ones.��

    ��But Blyth is a mage," said Syra. "And so was Rasu����

    ��Blythe is under contract,�� Stahdler corrected her. ��A very loose contract according to him, but as long as he shares his work, they don��t ask many questions.��

    ��They��re just happy to be rid of me��don''t want to admit that it''s them and not the fish.��

    ��We know, Blyth. You��ve made your claim perfectly clear. Which is why you��re here.��

    ��So, you��d really hold us accountable for a law that you failed to warn us about?�� Petra asked, resisting the urge to toss him across the room. ��All we knew is that we were to come here to retrieve the shard.��

    ��The shard?�� Whispers bubbled from the guards and Stahdler straightened.

    ��Leave us,�� he commanded them, only speaking once they were alone.

    ��With respect, what does it matter?�� asked Syra. ��We are here for the shard, and that is all. We will happily leave when��"

    ��What does it matter?�� Stahdler repeated. His arm fur bristled as his eyes narrowed on her. ��Was it not magic that created those shards in the first place? Was it not magic that Gurn used to make his altar? Was it not, then, magic that led to Dorrak��s destruction and the death of thousands of dwarves? There were hundreds of nords in Dorrak that day. Some were kin. Ask them, what does it matter.��

    He let his words steep in her ears and took a long sigh.

    ��Mana is a part of nature: it is as a part of the earth as wind is to the sky��this we know. But the use of it is not. Magic may seem like a kindly fire, but get too close or use too much and it has no mercy.�� He pointed to the burn marks wrapped around Syra��s arm. ��Even you have witnessed the risk of using too much at one time.��

    ��Too much of anything is bad for anyone. That doesn��t make it innately evil.��

    ��No, but it does invite overindulgence. People always want more. More food, more land, more power. Gurn could have been happy being the great alchemist that he was. But no. He wanted power. He wanted to rule his people��"

    ��He wanted to save his people.�� A snarl threatened to scar Syra��s face and Leti placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

    ��Look, I��m not going to praise his actions or debate whether magic is good or evil. But every book I��ve read speaks of the unrest Dorrak was going through at the time. Gurn was trying to find a way that he could help his people. Perhaps magic did make him evil��perhaps it was too much for him to handle and he went mad. That doesn��t matter right now. What matters is that Marrak and the Black Thorn are in the same position. And if Marrak makes that altar, then we��re all as good as dead. So, instead of fighting over principles, why don��t we tackle the actual threat?��

    Stahdler stared each of them down until his gaze rested on Leti��s reassuring hand on Syra��s shoulder.

    ��You will retrieve the shard and leave immediately. Is that understood?��

    ��Yes, sir."

    ��And no magic. I can��t have you calling attention to yourselves and getting the council involved. I doubt even Valen could save you then.��

    ��So, how do we get it if we can��t be seen?�� asked Petra. ��Surely it��s guarded.��

    ��It is. But the guard should be thin as everyone will be preoccupied with The Hunt. The shard is in a cave in the White Ridge Mountains. Unlike the Tal or the Kiithran, Dom actually sealed it away. The White Waste has devoured most of the land there, but a tunnel is maintained for posterity purposes��that will give you access. Leti will escort you to a safe location but stay within the western perimeter. Outside of that, I have no say. So, do not get caught.��

    ��Understood,�� said the party.

    ��Good. Leti?��

    ��Sir?�� Leti stood so rigid that Syra had a hard time believing they were siblings.

    ��Send word to Ariksi that we��ll be arriving after sunhigh, just in time for The Hunt. Hopefully this rain will clear by then.��

    ��Yes, sir.��

    ��Oh, and tell her to only expect you, Muhmuh, and four guests��you know how she is about dinner plans.��

    Leti nodded but cast a suspicious eye towards Blyth, ��You��re not going?��

    Blyth wrinkled his nose as if to spit and waved his niece away, ��I��ve had enough smoke and wine to last ten moons. And the last time I went I came back with a wife��now I have to deal with you two. So, no thanks. I''ll stick to setting up nets.��

    Leti just rolled her eyes with a sneer, ��I��ll send her your regards, then,��

    "I''ll also need you to report on today''s incident with Tarsi," said Stahdler. "The council might not trust your methods, but they do trust your judgement."

    "Aiya, you know I hate paperwork."

    "Blyth."

    "Fine, but it''ll be short."

    "Thank you. Now, everyone get some rest. We leave for Falorn tomorrow morning."

 |Chapter 33| The Fallacy of Falorn (Pt. 1)

    <hr>

    ��I said, leave it alone.�� Blyth smacked Cassius�� hand away from his bandaged arm. ��You��ll only irritate it more.��

    ��But it itches so bad.��

    Despite Paku��Blyth��s round and ruddy tabby��lounging atop him all night, a small bruise still remained, leaving him to scratch and pat the surrounding skin as feeling returned in the form of incessant itching.

    ��It��s called healing. And it would go much faster if you would just leave. It. Alone.��

    ��Shh���� Stahdler halted with raised hand. ��We��re here.��

    Their small company crested the last hill of the Silvercrest Mountains, keeping to the shadows of the canopy. Stretching beyond them, a wide valley of hills formed the mossy plain that led to the base of the White Ridge. They sprung from the plain like gray teeth, their peeks still dusted white even in early summer. Below them, the city of Falorn sprawled out along the ridge, puffing up smoke and as gray as the stone around them.

    ��Welcome to Falorn,�� Blyth cheered with a sneer, ��the best place for feasting, fucking, and getting fucked over.��

    ��Blyth!�� Stahdler hissed but went ignored by the impassioned cynic.

    ��And, for the measly price of half your earnings, you can do all three in one night at the council��s grand hall��complete with trapeze.��

    ��Straga mal,�� Stahdler huffed a curse and kicked Blyth��s buck in the rump, sending him bounding down the hillside.

    ��Please excuse him. The city no doubt has its problems, but don��t let that taint your perception. Most of the people here are quite pleasant with more��simple tastes. Blyth just got involved with the wrong ones. Now come, I have something you need to see. Particularly you, Aidan.��

    Stahdler led them along the hillcrest to a clearing where the entire ridge was visible. Past the dirt roads and scattered crop fields, the plain burst with vegetation��scrubby and short, but studded with buds and verdant green from snowmelt and the approaching full moon. And to the northwest, stretching the entirety of the horizon, a blanket of ice a mile thick slumbered on its bed of stone, awaiting the next snowfall.

    ��Is that���� Syra asked, pointing to the encroaching glacier.

    ��The White Waste.�� Stahdler stared both in awe and worry. ��It eats more land every year and is now claiming the sea ice. Our flameweavers try their best, but some ice is always left to feed it. At the rate it��s going, we��ll eventually lose the city.��

    He turned an honest eye to Aidan, ��This is why Koth is so important. Why our border and trade agreements must be kept firm and stable. It isn��t just the fish. It��s our survival.��

    Aidan offered a confident nod, but his eyes were frozen to the white horizon.

    ��I truly didn��t know. Father never mentioned anything����

    ��Well, now you do. And you can take that knowledge back to your father and his council, and hopefully stop these disagreements before they escalate any further.��

    ��Now,�� he addressed the company, ��we��ll split up from here. I��ll take the supplies to the gate and get everyone busy preparing. Leti, you take the others around through the western forest and enter through the old orchard. Stick to the creekside and Ariksi will meet you by the barn. Valen should arrive in the morning, but until then keep your hoods up just in case.��

    ��Yes, sir.��

    ��And Leti,�� his gaze softened, ��don��t get too looney tonight. Remember, the roof is old.��

    ��Aiya,�� Leti groaned and tugged her buck away. ��The saying is, ��be careful��.��

    They followed the small stream that cut through the forested ravine. The twins craned their necks to keep eyes on the skyline, but the slopping canopy only teased the setting sun. The wind spoke of cut pine, fresh dirt, and smoke, and to their relief, came from the north.

    ��We still have some time,�� Leti said, her wide nostrils flaring in the breeze, ��but let��s hurry just in case. Once the wind shifts, the skyrays will be right over us and we can��t risk the crossfire.��

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Their frosthoof rides huffed up the switchback trails of the western outskirts. By the time they reached the orchard Aidan and the twin��s rides snorted threats to buck off their oversized loads.

    ��The barn is just a little further," said Leti, pointing past the overgrown grove of flowering trees.

    As they marched through the rows of scarred trees, Syra''s skin tingled. She grazed her fingers across the trunck of one as they past and jumped when a surge of mana buzzed her fingertips.

    "You alright?" Aidan asked.

    "Yes, just surprised." She pressed a hand against the next tree and again felt the warm flow rippling through its trunk.

    "Are these parchment trees?" She asked Leti after a quick check of the leaves and flowers.

    "Were. My aunt used make spell tags from them, but that was decades ago��before the ban. No use for them now."

    "Why not sell them?" Aidan asked. "Or the plain parchment at least. I know several merchants��and a witch��who would probably be interested. If anything, I''m sure our academy could use the extra supply."

    "Oh, I''m sure we could strike some kind of deal. But good luck convincing the council��unless you paid them directly, then maybe. But anyway, we''re here. So keep quiet."

    Leti dismounted first but kept her eyes sharp and dagger ready. The others followed suit, staying some steps behind as she waded up to the caved-in shed. Then she stopped, hand raised and round eyes scanning the branches.

    Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, she trilled a guttural call, waited, then called again.

    This time her call was answered in kind as Igwi swooped down from the rafters.

    ��There you are!�� A grinning nordess draped in colorful shawls emerged from the shadow of the barn door. A flare of owl feathers cuffed her ear and painted scales framed her eyes. While the creases betrayed her age, the headful of long braids spoke of nimble fingers, and their adorning stones and shells clicked in rhythm as she skuttled towards them. ��The heat��s already leaving, so I was worried you��d be too late.��

    The two patted arms and Leti waved the party over, ��It��s alright. This is my aunt, Ariksi. She��ll be hiding you while you��re here.��

    ��So, which of you are the Montari?�� Ariksi scanned the party with bright and eager eyes.

    Syra hesitated but Leti gave her the go-ahead.

    ��We are.�� Syra motioned to herself and the twins. ��Thank you so much for helping us. We really����

    ��Just lovely!�� Ariksi throttled a squeal and grabbed both of Syra��s hands, ��Even your hair shines like metal.�� She ducked her head in a swift bow and pressed Syra��s hands to her forehead. ��It is stunning enough to see you in-flight during The Hunt,�� she spoke in near-fluent Draconic and moved on to repeat the gesture with both Petra and Cassius, ��but to host you in my own home��and during such an occasion��I am truly honored. We are honored, so please let us know how best to help you.��

    The siblings stiffened from the sudden greeting of appreciation, and Aidan bit his knuckle to keep from laughing at their stunned faces.

    ��We?�� Syra asked when her senses returned.

    ��Oh yes, we. Much we, are we��did that even make sense? Nevermind.�� She waved her thoughts away and went to crunching through the fronds to a thin trail barely visible beneath the new growth. ��This way, now. We must get you hidden before the crowds come.��

    They trekked until the trees thinned into a small settlement west of the main city. While the perimeter was littered with wooden shacks and cottages, a city woven by steel terraced up the mountainside. Its painted glass windows gleamed from vaulted roofs. The ledges housed lodges of chiseled stone and bright metals. And all their dusty chimneys puffed smoke that darkened any snow hiding in narrow streets. A stark contrast from the tiny ground huts in Koth.

    ��Ugh, what smells?�� Petra scowled and she and the others covered their noses from the acidic sting on the breeze.

    Ariksi stopped them in the shadow of the settlement hall and pointed to the towering column that leaked black clouds.

    ��That would be the forge. The wind makes it worse than usual, but you��ll get used to it.��

    ��Wait, so this is normal?�� Petra asked through her hands. ��And I thought our dung pits were bad. At least we cover them up.��

    ��It wasn��t always like this,�� Ariksi said, casting a forlorn gaze over the haggard housing and sooted trees. ��Puhpuh Dom would be so sad to see it now.��

    ��Is this because of the shard?�� asked Syra.

    But Ariksi shook her head, ��No, Puppuh sealed that away a long time ago. This��is ��innovation��.��

    ��Boosh,�� Leti cursed as she jiggled the hall door open. ��Innovation would be fixing this ragged door.��

    ��Maybe, but that��s what the council is calling it.�� Ariksi shuffled everyone inside the hall and heaved the door shut. ��Speaking of, how��s Blyth and Rasu?��

    ��Still as fickle as ever,�� Leti said, seating the party around the hall��s large center table.

    ��I like them,�� Syra said, tearing her eyes away from the hall''s trunk-like pillars and their carvings. ��Rasu was particularly helpful.��

    ��Rasu��s mouth is too big for his body,�� Leti added, ��but he��s polite and keeps himself up, unlike that gristled old magpie of yours.��

    ��Has he gotten that bad? Do I need to����

    ��No.�� Leti waved a stern finger at her aunt. ��No, you stay. He��s single-minded but he''s managing��we all have heaters now. He even cooked dinner for us the other night.��

    ��Thank Erd. I was worried he��d be too caught-up to help you.��

    ��He did help, in his own way,�� said Cassius, spying Ariksi��s twin-tailed tortoiseshell sprawled on a windowsill, the warm light glinting off her jeweled collar. ��Now we just need help getting to the shard without being caught.��

    ��And that��s why you��re here.�� Ariksi puffed out her chest. ��The council likes to keep this place guarded��making sure we��re not getting ''too magical'' and all. But the city guards will look for any excuse to avoid us Scree stoneheads, and The Hunt has nearly emptied the place. Once it starts, the backstreets should be well-cleared. Once you have the shard, come back here. Those pompous vultures won��t dare dawdle here tonight.��

    ��Why not?�� asked Syra. ��Too much magic for them?��

    Leti shook her head and pointed to the broken rafter above the table, ��No trapeze.��

    Their laughter was caught off by the dimming room as a large cloud passed over the sun. The branches outside rustled and bowed, and the glass of the old windows rattled in the strong eastern wind.

    Ariksi rushed to the window, eyes locked on the sky and the swarm of dots entering the valley. Then the horns sounded.

    ��They��re here.��

 |Chapter 33| The Fallacy of Falorn (Pt. 2)

    <hr>

    ��Where?�� Petra darted to the window, but Ariksi shoved her away.

    ��Get down, all of you.��

    Ariksi shooed them away from the table and windows just as a rush of hollers and stomping feet passed by.

    ��Take cover in there.�� She pointed to the curtained stalls in the back. ��Someone might come in����

    ��Oi, Ari!�� A voice called from behind the door. The handle jiggled but the wood grunted against his shoving.

    ��Dah?�� Ariksi waved her arms and the party dove behind the curtain just in time for the door to unjam.

    An excited halfling donning a long shawl attempted to hurry through, but his dragonhead-shaped headdress caught on the top of the doorframe and knocked him backwards.

    ��What is it, Ozma?�� Ariksi asked in Nordic, stabilizing him outside the door.

    ��Aren��t you coming? You can see the flames already.��

    Ariksi faked a scowl and waved and firm arm at the empty table.

    ��Do you see this table? You know what��s wrong with it?��

    ��What, is it broken again?��

    ��It��s bare! How am I supposed to feed all of you with a bare table? Now go and let me prepare for you leeches.��

    Ozma chuckled and backed off, carefully bowing the sculpted head atop his own.

    ��I��ll bring the herbs, then.��

    ��Good, just make sure they��re completely dry this time.��

    The door closed and Ariksi waited for the streets outside to quiet before drawing back their curtain.

    ��It should be safe now. But, I��d like to take one more precaution.�� She glanced between Aidan and the twins, sizing them up. ��You three are just way too tall to go unnoticed.��

    She turned to a large chest by the wall and drew from it a shawl like her own and three dragonhead shawls similar to Ozma��s, but shorter.

    ��Syra, you take the smaller one. You three can take your pick of these��make sure it covers your face. Leave your weapons here��they��ll only cause suspicion. Leti, if anyone asks, you��re escorting them to pay respects before the festival.��

    "Now, what to do about your skin?" Arikisi asked herself, eyeing Syra''s olive complextion. "I guess we��ll just have to paint it or something.��

    ��That won��t be necessary,�� Syra said, looking over at Leti. ��But I will need to borrow Leti��s finger for a moment.��

    ***

    ��You just keep getting smaller,�� Petra teased the nordess who was now shorter than Leti.

    ��That��s just how it works, alright?�� Syra spat and wrapped the shawl around herself. ��Now let��s go before I overheat from all this fur.��

    ��But your eyes are still green,�� Aidan said. ��Aren��t they supposed to be����

    ��That��s what hoods are for.��

    ��Hopefully it won��t matter,�� Leti said as she led the costumed party away from the settlement and towards the outer city. ��We��ll take the scenic route around. It��s a longer climb, but mostly forested so we shouldn��t run into anyone.��

    Syra normally wouldn��t have minded the hike��and her new stocky body came with extra strength in the legs��but the thin air and extra fur made her pause more than Leti liked.

    ��Look, I know you��re new to this body hair thing, but we have got to keep moving if we want to get back before the festival starts.�� She grabbed Syra��s furry arm and tugged her up the next incline to the overhanging boulder. ��We can rest and watch The Hunt pass from here, but then it��s double-time to the shard. Understood?��

    Syra pounded her chest in a silent salute as she wiped the sweat from her brow, and neck, and arms, with her shawl.

    ��At least we get to see some of The Hunt,�� Cassius said, plopping down next her to watch their clanmates hunt the aerial grazers in precise choreographed movements.

    ��I��m sorry you two had to miss it. I know you were looking forward to participating.��

    ��It��s fine, we��ve helped before. It was just going to be Petra��s first time giving direct orders.��

    Syra gazed over at her sister who was glued to the sky, her muscles twitching in response as the patrol of dragons circled, dove, and rained fire down on the school of gliding rays feasting on airborne seedpods. Even at this distance, the breeze smelled faintly of egg as punctured flight bladders burned and drove them downward to the nets below.

    ��You know, I never got to see it before I left.��

    ��Really?�� asked Cassius, ��But you were older than us.��

    ��I was still too young, apparently. So, I was sentenced to watch you two and the other hatchlings while the patrols were gone. It was even more of a chore after Mother died.��

    ��But you would always tell us stories about it.��

    She gave a dry laugh and tapped her forehead, ��Imagination. And just repeating anything I heard from the patrols. I waited for it every year, though��to watch Papa lead the charge and bring us food for the winter. And yet now, finally watching it, it feels somehow empty.��

    Cassius leaned his shoulder against hers in quiet comfort.

    ��I wish he was here, too.��

    Syra startled at the calm in Petra��s voice.

    ��And Mother.�� Petra��s gaze watched the imaginary gold and silver couple swim through the sky in a synchronized dance. ��I wonder, if they could see us now��all the shit we��ve been through��would they be proud?��

    ��Of course, they would,�� Cassius said. ��You��ve become the youngest Vayguard in clan history��something you��ve always wanted. And Syra, you got study magic and become an actual mage like you��ve always wanted to do. And I��I have kept you two from trying to kill each other this entire time.��

    ��You��ve done more than that,�� Syra said.

    Aidan gripped Cassius�� shoulder, ��Agreed.��

    Petra failed to contain her laugh, ��But that is quite the accomplishment.��

    Cassius glowed from the smiles around him, ��Exactly. Sure, it��s probably not what they expected, but I think they��d be happy with it.��

    Syra patted the pearl that was still warm against her chest, ��I think they would be, too. And Ethan,�� she said to Aidan, ��and Valen. Especially now that we��re one shard away.��

    ��We have to get the shard first,�� Leti said, standing and stretching.

    ��Now Leti,�� Syra teased, ��would your uncle be proud of your eavesdropping?��

    Leti paused, then nodded, ��Probably. Now, let��s get going.��

    Unfortunately, the logging crew over the next hill took the cleared city streets as a transport opportunity, leaving their path exposed and swarming with eyes.

    ��So much for a quiet scenic route,�� Aidan said, watching the crowd of uniformed workers chop, saw, and heave across the clear-cut meadow.

    ��We��ll just have to find another way,�� said Syra. ��Can we go around? Maybe farther west?��

    Leti frowned at how far the clearing stretched, ��We��re already west as it is��we��d lose way too much time.��

    Her eyes searched the peaks and valleys but continued to come back to forge��s smokestack.

    ��There��s no smoke,�� she said to herself.

    ��What?��

    ��It��s cold. The forge is cold.��

    ��Meaning?��

    ��I know another way. But it goes through the city.��

    ��Isn��t that what we��re trying to avoid?�� asked Petra.

    ��We��ll take the miner��s road. It��s dirty and smells like bad eggs, but that��s why no one goes there by choice.��

    ��But won��t the miners be working?��

    ��Not if they don��t have to. And today is the one holiday they do get.��

    ***

    The shadows had grown by the time they reached the narrow streets of the city, and they took shelter in them whenever possible. Though the stone walls echoed the faint cheering of the crowds southward, the sooted streets by the forge were indeed empty.

    ��Now listen,�� Leti whispered as she pulled everyone into the smelly, but shadowed, dumping ally. ��We��re about enter the North Ward which does not take kindly to Scree��or any ��settlement scum�� for that matter. These shawls are ceremonial, so you��ll stick out like dirty nails.��

    Petra balked, ��Then why are we wearing them if we��re just going to sti����

    ��Because it��s expected.�� Leti tugged on everyone��s hood until only their chins were visible. ��The Bud Moon festival is a time of appreciation, so many of us visit the cave to pay respects to those that were lost in Dorrak. The terrace snobs may blaspheme the old ways, but we��ve all lost loved ones at some point, so most will let you slide by with a curse or two.��

    ��That��s horrible,�� Cassius scowled in disgust. ��How is that even acceptable?��

    Leti just shrugged and adjusted his headdress one last time, ��Wide hips and deep pockets, I assume.��

    ��But for you four, it is very important to follow their etiquette, else they get suspicious or worse, haughty.��

    ��Etiquette?�� Syra raised a brow, recalling with no fondness her own etiquette classes.

    ��Basically, just be silent and keep your head down��they don��t want to see your faces. And yes, it��s disgusting but we need the shard, so���� she clamped her hands down on Petra and Cassius�� shoulders, ����let me do the talking.��

    They kept to the alleys as far as the forge and mills could take them. But, as the incline steepened, the streets and terraces widened into promenades, patios, and parlors. The largest ledge��and the best view��was reserved for the Grand Hall and its arguably generous patrons. Some of whom had taken sweet liberty to claim their��and most likely others����seating before the festivities even began. And by the lines in their powdered brows, were quiet territorial.

    ��Could you leave?�� barked the nearest nord with the voice like crow. ��This is a private gathering.��

    They kept their faces lowered, but Leti offered a silent bow before leading them off again.

    The indignance rose and spread across terrace. Most remained silent, but their scowls and sneers burned Syra��s ears.

    ��Are you truly stone-headed?�� The nord slammed his goblet on the table and shuffled out of his seat, waddling over like a toddler in a tantrum. His braidless mane was teased into a sculpted cloud with a solitary��and unnecessarily large��Kiithran feather pinned at the hairline. And to Syra, looked like a very upset cockatoo.

    ��I said ��leave��. As in ��that way��. Back to your huts where you can��t dirty the floor any more than it already is.��

    Syra bit back a laugh as the feather jiggled with every bob of his head.

    He forced a calming breath, but his nose wrinkled at the sooty footprints they had tracked onto the cream tile. ��That��s mighty filthy, you know that, right?�� There was almost a hint of pity to his croaking.

    Leti bowed again, eyes on the ��artisanal�� tile, ��We are merely passing through on our way to the memorial.��

    ��As you should. But you should also use the scenic route that we built for you. And frankly, I��m a bit offended that you would choose not to.��

    ��The path is currently being blocked by loggers, sir. Your loggers if I saw their colors correctly.��

    ��Oh,�� he said, genuinely surprised. ��Oh, right, I did order the transport for today, that��s right. Well, that��s really too bad. Perhaps it is just ��Erd��s way�� of telling you to stay home, instead of coming all the way up here and bothering these fine folk.��

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    He nodded in approval of himself, ��Yes, that would make sound, reasonable sense. Now, wouldn��t it? So, why don��t you skuttle back down and leave us be��we��d like to keep our appetites up for the feast.��

    ��Please, sir, I humbly ask that you let us pass. We will keep to the back alleys and be gone without anymore notice.��

    ��Ha! Like anyone wouldn��t notice those gaudy rags. However,�� he paused to eye them over, ��seeing as you are already in costume, why don��t you put on a little show for us? Provide some sorely needed entertainment before the real show begins. I think that will suffice.��

    ��Apologies, sir, but that would be disrespectful to our��"

    ��And you��re disrespecting our time and my patience by remaining here. Now, I have been more than gracious with you, so either be of some service or leave before I send for����

    ��Would a song be sufficient?��

    All eyes, hooded or otherwise, snapped to Petra who channeled all her rage into the fists balled under her shawl.

    ��A song you say?�� He announced to their growing audience about the courtyard, the majority of which raised hands in approval. ��Yes, I believe that will do nicely, given you can actually carry a tune.��

    The corners of her mouth twitched, but she forced them into a faint grin.

    ��I shall let you be the judge on that, then.��

    ��Excellent!�� He sauntered back to his chair and nestled his cup into his fat little fingers, content in his validation. ��And what tune will you be offering? A little jig, perhaps? Or a����

    ��A ballad.��

    ��Oh, so slow and calming, then? Alright, I could certainly use the calm after this little stunt.��

    ��And a duet.�� She added, nudging Syra with her boot, ��if you don��t mind.��

    ��A two-for-one? Oh, yes. Please, begin.��

    And sing they did, for sound leaves no trace of magic to the untrained ear. And as they sang, the walls and ledges resounded the foreign lullaby until the patrons�� eyes grew heavy and their heads bobbed, and eventually came to rest cheek-first in their beloved fish stews.

    When silence returned, the sisters were winded, but smiling.

    ��That was amazing, Petra. Risky, but amazing. I didn��t even know you could act like that.��

    ��All I did was act like you.�� Petra smirked. ��I also just happen to know way more Nordic than you.��

    But while they were half out-of-breath, Leti was on full alert.

    She grabbed the girls by the arm, ��We need to run. Now.��

    ��What?��

    ��Now!��

    Leti yanked them forward and they all dashed across the courtyard and up the promenade stairs, two at a time. But the windows were already opened, and the guard most certainly called.

    ��This way,�� Leti veered down the western walkway and herded them through the broken porch lattice of a smaller A-frame cabin.

    ��What happened to ��no magic��? Did you really think that Scree were the only ones who could recognize songspells?�� Leti huffed at Petra, too worried to stay angry.

    ��They��re not?��

    ��No! Remember Blyth��s contract? Well, he��s not the only Gifted under contract. And half of them are from the North Ward��as in here. As in����

    ��They ran down that way!�� Voices called from down the street.

    ��As in we��re fucked?�� said Aidan.

    ��No,�� Syra smacked him in the arm, ��as in we need to get to the cave. That hasn��t changed. We just��need to get to the glacier, right? Can we still go the way you planned?��

    Leti scanned the map in her head, ��No, it��s too open. But the hot springs have forest access. There��ll probably be a crowd, though, so no dawdling.�� She shot a warning look at the boys, ��Or gawking.��

    They followed Leti up the narrow path of cobbled stairs and walkways. The hum of relaxed conversation grew as they neared the walled-off terraces with steam misting the surrounding stones.

    ��Watch your step,�� Leti warned as they crested the final staircase and barreled down the slick stone path that wound between the steaming pools.

    ��Pardon! Pardon us, sorry!�� They said, hiding their eyes as they ran past the screeching horde of naked nords��their faces now red from both steam and offense.

    ��Through here!��

    Leti skittered down a ledge into a small garden area and broke through its surrounding hedges into the forest.

    ��How much farther?�� Syra asked as the curses faded into the trees.

    ��The path��s just up there,�� she pointed to the ledge a few bounds above them. ��It��s a clear shot from there.��

    The narrow path of the western slopes brought them to a mountain pass. But when they broke through the treeline, only white faced them. The river of white contrasted the dark gray ridges towering around them, and the sky merged with the teal pools that pocketed the marbled plain encrusting the mountainside.

    ��The White Waste,�� Leti said, transfixed as they all paused a heartbeat to take in its gravity and splendor. ��And the cave is in its belly.��

    ����this way!��

    Yelling from the hot springs below broke their trance.

    ��Shit, they��re still coming,�� Aidan said.

    ��The cave��s through here.�� Leti ran up to the ice wall and disappeared behind a boulder. ��You might have to duck, though.��

    They followed after her into the teal-and-white tunnel, its ceiling and walls dripping and scarred by the work of flameweavers. If it weren��t for the hostile mob behind them, Syra would��ve liked to explore in more detail. But, Leti threatened to disappear behind every turn and the walls echoed the approaching footsteps.

    ��Won��t they just follow us in?�� Cassius asked. ��Even if we get the shard, we��ll be trapped.��

    Leti slid a small dagger from a hidden pocket in her vest, ��We��ll just have to fight back.��

    ��But we have no weapons. We can��t����

    Syra stopped and stared as they entered the domed cavern outside the cave entrance. Above them, the sunset filtered through the ice and cast everything in a glistening blue hue.

    ��Pretty,�� Syra hushed to her herself.

    ��Yes, it��s very pretty, but we can admire later.�� Petra said, tugging her arm. ��Let��s get inside before����

    Stomping and huffing grunts filled the cavern and all turned wide eyes back to the empty tunnel.

    ��Too late.�� Leti pivoted and readied her blade.

    No, not when we��re this close!

    Syra charged her hands, but the growling tunnel warned of a larger patrol and she turned her attention to the crevice behind them.

    ��Get in. Now,�� she hushed and shoved everyone into the narrow gap in the ice wall.

    Leti stumbled back as they fell into the shadows, ��What the hell are you����

    ��Hush!�� Syra commanded and slammed her palms against the walls of the crevice.

    Ice shot from the walls and merged into a sheet in front of them. She backed away from the ice curtain and into its shadow just as the blurred figures poured into the cavern.

    ��Into the cave,�� one said, and led them into the stony depths.

    Syra let out her breath but kept a silencing finger against her lips.

    Wait, she mouthed.

    Moments later, grunts of frustration preceded the patrol��s retreat from the cave.

    ��They must��ve run off into the forest, then.��

    ��Great, we��ll never catch them now.��

    ��Not unless you move your ass instead of whining.��

    The shuffling of boots faded but Syra still spoke in whispers.

    ��Sounds clear. Let��s go.�� She placed a hand on the ice wall but Petra scoffed from behind her.

    ��You��re really going to try that again? We don��t have our swords, remember?��

    But Syra shook her head and held out her other hand to her, ��I have an idea. I just need your hand, and a little imagination.��

    Syra��s sly grin made Petra nervous and she hesitated to take her hand.

    ��Imagine��what?��

    ��Fire,�� Syra said, remembering the hot touches of Piper and the children back in Renguard. ��I want you to imagine what it feels like to breathe fire. Imagine its heat building up inside, warming your chest, and aching to burst out.��

    Petra sighed but closed her eyes, focusing. ��Alright. Now what?��

    Petra��s skin flushed red and Syra felt her hand warm like hot bath. But the bulk of the heat still churned inside her chest.

    ��Now, instead of sending that heat to your throat, send it here��to your hand. I��ll take it from there.��

    ��You sure it won��t burn you?��

    ��No, it might. But I��ll worry about that once we��re out.��

    ��Alright then.��

    Petra��s comforting grasp became a hot coal and Syra flinched from the sudden surge shooting up her arm. She clenched her jaw against the initial burning but let the heat flow from one arm to the other, cooling as it dissipated through her body. She took a long, deep breath, then opened the floodgates in her icy hand. Her pulse raced as the heated mana rushed from Petra, through her, to the wall.

    ��You alright?�� Aidan asked, seeing her skin redden.

    ��Yes, it��s fine. Just a little toasty, is all.��

    The ice steamed and melted with each stroke of her hand until a nord-sized hole was carved away.

    ��So much for magic, indeed,�� said Leti, watching Syra rub her hand against the remaining ice to cool it back down.

    ��It worked, didn��t it?��

    ��I just hope that��s the last time we��ll need it.��

    Leti led them through the cave entrance and down the crystal-lit tunnel hewn from the mountain a century ago.

    "Was this a mine?" Aidan asked, grazing his fingers across the plumose blue crystals growing from the scrapes in the wall.

    ��Once,�� Leti said, ��A rich xeric vein, I��ve been told. But after Dorrak, it was sealed along with the shard."

    "No wonder I''ve never seen these in-person before," said Syra, admiring how they dusted the cave in mossy clusters.

    "They used to be commonplace here. Muhmuh still tells the story of how Dom would put a cluster by her bed to help her sleep." Her faint smile faded. "But now, we��re all reliant on the forge and its coal mines.��

    ��You think that could change once the shards are destroyed?�� Syra asked.

    ��That��d be nice��certainly for Ariksi and the others. But at this point the old ways are just stories and party tricks, just like Muhmuh''s nightlight��nothing of ��real value��. Like an old shoe that doesn��t fit anymore. What else would they do but throw us away?��

    Leti jumped at Aidan��s hand suddenly gripped to her shoulder.

    ��They could give you to someone who could use you.�� His head was bent by the ceiling, but his grin was wide and sincere. ��I hope it doesn''t come to this, but you''re welcome to come live in Altaira. It might be rough now, but I''d like it to be a place that always welcomes the Gifted,�� he passed a quick glance at Syra, ��even if they are a little different. That''s the plan, anyway.��

    Leti gave his hand a firm squeeze but continued on, granted a slight happier.

    A carved archway marked the entrance to the memorial. Beyond it, pale light filtered through the old exhaust tunnel above the domed ceiling, illuminating the wide, sculpted chamber. All along its walls, carvings told the story of sister cities, separated by distance yet melded together by the throes of magic and ingenuity��a prosperous time. And a dangerous one. On the far wall, the gold-trimmed centerpiece depicted the crumbled city of Dorrak in finely etched detail. And at its center, a ring of five shards presented the words of warning engraved above them.

    ��Some doors must not be opened��, Leti recited in solemn Nordic.

    ��You think it��s literal?�� asked Aidan, analyzing its cracks and creases. ��Maybe this is the door?��

    ��Could be��we still used magic back then. But no one I��ve asked could figure it out. Not even Rasu.�� She passed a shy eye to Syra, ��I was hoping another mage would know.��

    Shit.

    Syra��s skin prickled from all the eyes on her and she hesitated.

    ��I can��t even read all of the words on here, Leti.��

    ��That��s alright, I��ll translate.��

    ��Is it even magical?�� Aidan asked. ��Can you any sense anything?��

    ��Well, yes, but we��re inside an xeric vein so mana is flowing everywhere.��

    ��But is it all the same?�� asked Cassius. ��The seal is a spell, right? Maybe it��s more concentrated, or the caster left behind some magical residue��like a scent. Could you isolate that?��

    ��Probably. But it��s been what, a century? I doubt I could pick up on something that faint.��

    Petra nudged her in the shoulder with a slight grin, ��You could at least try, right?��

    The tension left Syra��s shoulders and she nudged her sister back, ��Yes, that I can do.��

    She steadied herself and focused, the others falling still and silent, watching. The ripples came quicker this time, and stronger. More like waves in the ocean tide. Petra, Aidan, Cas��and now Leti��s mountain breeze passed over her as she sifted and searched. But nothing came.

    Damn it, come on. Where are you?

    ��Anything?�� asked Petra.

    ��Shh��let her focus,�� Cassius said.

    But Syra��s focus was waning under their heartbeats and her growing frustration.

    ��I��m sorry, I����

    ��It��s alright.��

    Syra felt her hand warm as Cassius held it firm.

    ��It��s alright, just breathe. It��ll come when it��s ready.��

    She let his warmth seep into her chilled hand and travel up her arm, saturating her bones until even her toes wiggled the cold away.

    ��Thanks, Cas. I����

    Her eyes opened to see him surrounded by waves of color. Not small, thin layers like with the kila, but a vibrant, thick spectrum that bled into the air around him.

    ��You see it, don��t you?�� he asked with a quiet, happy smile.

    She could only nod as her wide eyes stared and took in the wavering kaleidoscope around her.

    ��I can see them,�� she said, staring almost infant-like at Aidan and the others.

    ��See what?�� Aidan asked. ��The seal?��

    ��The ripples.��

    ��The��ripples?�� He turned to Cassius, ��What ripples?��

    ��I could only feel them before,�� Syra went on, ��but now����

    Her smile split her face in two as she watched the flickers of white light flow and swirl through the air, filling the cavern with a flight of fireflies. Some floated from one wall the other. Others sprinkled over them like grains of sand, then soaked right in, disappearing. And then there were others that swarmed the center mural, filling its cracks with sparkling dust.

    ��Now, I can see all of it.��

    ��You can see it then? The seal?�� asked Leti, eyes lighting up as much as the wall.

    ��It��s definitely here.�� Syra waved her free hand over the mural, watching the dust swirl through her fingers like water, then slowly return to the center of the mural and fade away. ��Something is soaking up mana, so I bet it��s some kind of barrier spell.��

    ��So, we just break down the wall?�� asked Petra. ��That��ll take way more time than we have.��

    ��Looks like others already tried,�� Aidan said, pointing to the splattering of chip marks on the floor.

    ��Then what about your sword? It can cut through barriers, right?��

    Petra��s hope was cut down by a smirking Aidan holding empty air.

    ��We don��t have our swords, remember?��

    ��Suck a toad.��

    ��Maybe,�� Cassius cut in, ��it needs another spell to break it? Like how Syra broke Pel��s shapechange spell.��

    ��You did what?�� asked Leti.

    ��Long story. And it was Pel that actually made that spell, not me. And it probably took him decades of research to do it. All we have here are pictures.��

    ��But, maybe these pictures can tell us something more than a history lesson.�� Aidan wandered off to scrutinize the images and inscriptions with Leti and Petra, but Syra kept her hand in Cassius�� and her attention on the floating dust.

    Alright, then. What can you tell me? She asked the dust.

    She let her eyes follow the specks�� movements, here and there, until her vision lost focus. The image on the stone blurred and she let her gaze wander in the fog. And then, there were lines. Her vision snapped back and locked on to the chiseled image of rubble near the bottom of the mural. Hidden among the masonry scratchwork, a line of runes stood out like a snake among vines. Syra��s fingers traced the familiar symbols as the words played on her lips.

    ��You said Dom sealed this?�� she asked Leti.

    ��Yes, why?��

    ��So, he was a mage?��

    ��No, but it��s said he brought in a wandering archmage from far away.��

    ��But why? Why not one of your own?��

    Leti pondered this a moment, ��I suppose he wanted to guarantee that no nord could open it.��

    ��This could certainly do that.��

    ��What could?��

    The others gathered around and Syra pointed to the line of script whose curves had no right to be there.

    ��These are Draconic runes. Old Draconic,�� she said, passing a finger over them as she read, ����Others just need the right key.����

    ��So there is a way to open it,�� said Aidan.

    ��But why?�� asked Leti, ��It��s supposed to stay sealed.��

    Syra shrugged, ��In case of emergencies?��

    ��Well, I��d consider this an emergency,�� said Petra. ��So, we��d better find this ��key�� and do it fast.��

    ��I don��t think it��s that kind of key,�� Syra said, feeling about the mural. ��There��s no sign of a keyhole, and all the mana seems to be flowing into this blank spot in the mid����

    Syra stopped, her hand frozen to the bare stone inside the ring of crystals.

    Seriously? This again?

    ��What? What is it?�� Aidan asked, a concerned hand patting her shoulder. ��Did you find something?��

    ��Possibly. I think it might be a bloodspell.��

    ��A what spell?�� Petra yanked her hand from the wall.

    ����Others just need the right key��,�� Syra repeated. ��I swear I��ve heard that before.��

    A bloodspell that��opens a door? Where have I��

    ��Baba!�� Syra��s sudden eureka made the others jump. ��Leti, give me your dagger.��

    ��Hold on,�� Aidan grabbed onto her hand. ��What for?��

    ��The bloodspell.�� She shooed his hand away and took the dagger, ��I think it��s like Baba��s closet.��

    She pricked her finger and smeared it within the ring of the mural.

    Please work.

    She held her breath as the tense moments passed, but finally the flickers came.

    ��Yes!��

    Glimmers formed the glowing ring and the dial of runes appeared as before. To her surprise, however, these runes were also in Old Draconic and the five crystal carvings alit as well.

    Alright, so five shards probably means five runes. She read each of the runes of the dial slowly to herself. What five-rune command would they use, though? She jumbled the runes around in her head until one word made her stop. Well, it is a door.

    One after the other, she swiped the runes for ��open�� into the crystals and pressed a finger against each. The cold stone under her fingertips suddenly warmed and she startled as her fingers sank into the rock like mud.

    ��You did it!�� Leti bubbled over and pawed at Syra��s arm.

    ��Almost.�� Syra grimaced and braced herself for the next part.

    ��Can��t have students losing fingers,�� Baba��s words froze her hand in place.

    A weaver is nothing without fingers.

    She stared at the pulsing light around her knuckles, at the silver ring and its morakii with three other shards tucked inside, then at the anxious faces around her.

    Draco, help me.

    And with bated breath, she twisted.

    Her fingers screamed as the stone bit down like tiny needles. But then it vibrated and hummed, then released her fingers as quickly as it snapped down. She winced as she retracted her hand, seeing the thin trickles drip onto the ground.

    ��Good Erd, are you alright?�� Leti cried.

    ��I��ll be fine,�� Syra said through a groan and wiggled all five fingers. ��I still got ��em.��

    Her blood glowed purple and traced the bloodied circle over and over, each time sinking deeper into the stone as if to bore straight through. When the light faded, a small nook remained with a little wooden box peering out at them.

    ��And there it is,�� said Aidan with a heavy sigh. ��The shard must be inside it.��

    But Syra hesitated. The air around the box was still and cold. She reached her hand in, but felt no warmth from the box.

    No. Please.

    She flicked the box open. But the little wooden box held only air.

 |Chapter 34| Mother Tree

    <hr>

    Empty.

    All of this, and the damn box is empty.

    And now, so was her stomach. And any words lofting out Cassius�� mouth on their scurrying retreat to the settlement.

    How? It was sealed. Bare stone. Solid stone.

    Thoughts echoed in her mind��s fog among the muddled arguments surrounding her.

    No cracks. No secret lock. It was sealed tight. The spell was barely noticeable, even with Cas�� help. How could anyone notice it? Certainly not a nord, not if Blyth or Rasu couldn��t figure it out. Then again, they��re the only nord mages I know, so there could be others. But the runes were in Old Draconic, for Draco��s sake. Who would even know how to read��

    Her feet rooted to the ground and she nearly toppled over a ledge. Cold filled her chest and chilled her lungs still.

    ��What? What is it?�� Aidan steadied her and followed her gaze into the shadows. ��Did you see something?��

    ��It was Marrak,�� she hushed. ��He opened it. It had to be.��

    ��Of course, it was. Weren��t you listening?�� But Petra��s lips tightened at the silent glare Aidan snapped back at her.

    ��We don��t know that for sure. Yes, it is the most likely reason, but it��s also been a hundred years. Maybe the nords took it secretly��hell, maybe it was never actually there in the first place. The other races certainly took no issue using theirs.��

    Leti bristled, ��Dom wouldn��t dare!��

    ��I didn��t say Dom had anything to do with it. Just that, given the border tensions and this council of yours, would you really be that surprised? Your own soldier even he said they were ready for war. What else would give them that much confidence?��

    ��So, now there��s another war?�� Syra locked her gaze on the star-splattered sky and a cursed smile crawled across her face. ��First dragons, then The Black Thorn, now the nords? Shit just keeps breaking.��

    Or, was it was all just broken to begin with?

    ��We were never truly at war with you,�� Aidan corrected.

    ��Tell that to your archers,�� Petra spat. ��You were����

    ��Protecting our borders, as I��ve said.��

    ��Is this really the time for pedantics?�� asked Cassius.

    Their voices muffled in Syra��s ears, and the edges of the canopy blurred into the celestial abyss until even the stars faded the longer she stared.

    ��Is there any real point, then?�� she asked, her voice barely cutting through the chirping air.

    Aidan halted midstep, ��What��what are you saying?��

    ��I��m saying, what��s the point? To this. This whole����game of fetch��. Maybe Petra was actually right. Maybe us trying just isn��t enough. I mean, sure, we got three shards. But that��s three of five. Even if we did destroy these three, what all could Marrak��or even the nords��do with the other ones? Fuck it. Maybe they��re all working together. Wouldn��t surprise me at this point. ��Oh, you hate Altaira, too? How lovely, me too!����

    ��Syra����

    ����You know, we should get together some time��celebrate our common enemy. A war party, yes! What a killer idea����

    ��Syra!��

    Aidan jiggled her shoulders until her eyes rattled back down to the genuinely stunned company.

    ��Syra? Syra, look at me. Look at����

    But her eyes rebelled and she wrapped her arms around herself, fingers digging into her soft hair for any comfort.

    ��Syra,�� he said, calming his voice and plopping a heavy hand atop her head, ��you��re being stubborn. Unnecessarily stubborn, do you hear me? No? Alright, then.��

    ��Leti, could you please let Ariksi know that we��ve lost the shard and will be leaving tomorrow morning? Also, send a letter to Valen saying to stay in Koth and that we''ll meet him tomorrow. He''ll have to find another way to defeat Marrak.��

    ��Alright, I get it.�� Syra rolled her eyes with a huff. ��There��s no need for all of that.��

    ��I certainly hope so.�� He searched her face to only find a tensed jaw and misting eyes. ��A lot of people are relying on us��and on you��to protect them.��

    ��You think I don��t know that?��

    ��I know that you��re scared. And that��s alright. I am, too. We all are," he cast a glance at Petra, "whether we admit it or not. And so are Blyth and Rasu, Valen and Baba, and the rest of the Kesh Raza. Hell, they were dealing with this before we even started this journey. So, it��s alright, we��ll just have to do this scared. And we��ve been scared before.��

    He unhooked her fingers from her arm and grasped her hand, ��Remember when Commander Trine died, and we had to infiltrate the lair on our own?��

    She winced from sudden smell of mud and charring, ��I try not to.��

    ��Do you remember what you said? We had no back-up and no idea what we were doing, and we nearly retreated. But you said that we were only scared because we just didn��t know what to do��what his orders would have been. And that right then, in that moment, we could only do what made sense in that moment. To focus on what we could do right then. Now is no different. The plans have changed, just like they did then. So, we have figure out, what can we do now?��

    Syra bit her lips steady and latched tight onto his hand, ��The shard isn��t in the cave. It could have been a nord who took it, but I doubt it. Old Draconic is sacred and only taught by draconic mages. So, if Marrak did take it, then it��s most likely with him.��

    ��But, we have no idea where he��s hiding.��

    ��If he��s using it to build the altar, then it would have to be somewhere isolated. And big. And probably near a mana pool given the power he''ll need."

    "But we��ve already been to Kor Lahru. Where else could have one?"

    Her eyes shot back to the shadow of the mountains, ��Maybe there''s another one here. One the nords don��t know about?��

    ��We can at least ask Ariksi, right?�� Aidan glanced over at Leti, hope gradually returning. ��Or Rasu? Maybe they know some miners who are more familiar with the geography. Or at least know where to look. Worst case, Blyth seems to know the council quite well.��

    ��I certainly wouldn��t mind squeezing some information out of those snub-nosed gragas,�� said Petra.

    ��Let��s start with Ariksi first.�� Leti patted Petra��s shoulder. ��We can ask her first thing in the morning.��

    ��But we need to ask her now, before Marrak���� Syra was quickly shushed by Leti��s gentle fingers against her mouth.

    ��I��m glad you��re still willing to fight. But, it is nighttime. It is dark and getting colder. And the music has already started, so anyone worth talking to will either be on their backs or their face.��

    ��But Ariksi����

    ��Is no doubt loony herself and will be of no help tonight.��

    Syra��s shoulders sagged but Aidan nudged her forward.

    ��It��s just for tonight. We at least have an idea and resources to ask. What we can do now, is rest.��

    We have been travelling all day.

    The voice in her gut cheered at her realization and Leti took it as a sign to lead onward.

    Syra��s nerves were still jumbled, but the fragrant breeze and dancing evening bugs loosened them by the time they arrived at the gathering.

    The hall door screeched open and Ariksi''s flushed face startled Syra more than the sudden firelight.

    ��There you are! Come in, come in. Everything is finally ready. Oh, and you can take those off for now,�� she motioned to their headdresses, ��your secret��s safe. Everyone here is as friendly as they are tight-lipped.�� She wiggled the carving knife still in her hand and eyed the gawking crowd. ��Isn��t that right?��

    ��If you say so, Ari!��

    ��But only if they��re fun!��

    ��Are they fun, Ari?��

    ��Yes, can they dance?��

    ��Oh, they must dance!��

    ��I don��t know about that.�� Ariksi put on a worried face that turned hopeful as she twisted it towards the waiting party.

    ��You��ll be dancing with us, yes?��

    Leti snickered as the whole party froze, and Ariksi scowled at Aidan��s eyes searching the shadows for an escape route.

    ��Oh, don��t be like that,�� she snatched up his collar and heaved him through the doorway, surprising him with the strength in her small body.

    ��Come! The earth and air are as full as the moon. Might as well fill your bellies, too. You��re our special guests, after all.��

    Ariksi sat them on the center rug, sprawled out and plush with fur. All the stares kept Syra��s gaze low, but a few deep breaths confirmed Ariksi��s words.

    Though miles away, the air simmered with mana in a tingling sea that rivaled Kor Lahru. Her shoulders relaxed, and she ran her fingers through the silky fun under her. Her fingertips warmed and buzzed. Even the ground seemed to swell and breathe. It could have been the fatigue, but she swore she could see tiny glimmers tracing through the hall��s ancient studs, as if they grew from the earth itself. The windows brought a breeze that hummed with croaks and whistles, and rustled the hanging adornments of painted stone and bone. And in the hall��s belly, surrounded by its giddy visitors, the firepit smoldered and smoked into the square hole in the roof. Despite this vent, the room already held a light fog that smelled of pine and sweet grass.

    Syra and Aidan coughed at the tickle in their throats��at which the twins snickered to themselves��but its sweetness calmed and warmed them, and soon they forgot about the curious glances that watched them from over cups of snowberry wine.

    ��Hope you��re hungry,�� Ariksi said as she and Leti delivered them ample wine and wide plates stacked with glazed meats, cheese, and the occasional tubor.

    ��Oh, yes!�� Petra beamed brighter than the pyre. ��Please and thank you.�� Her nordic slurred from the mouthful of gravy.

    ��Don��t choke yourself, now. There is plenty more.��

    Ariksi smirked at their sublimed faces then turned to address her other guests.

    ��Could I have your attention, please? Everyone? I apologize for disturbing your stupors, but I would like to formally introduce our guests of honor tonight. You know, before we forget everything?��

    The chuckles faded as all eyes fell on the party.

    ��Tonight, we are blessed to host our first ambassadors. Both Altairan��as I��m sure you��re now keenly aware��and Montari.��

    ��Montari?�� asked Ozma. ��But the dragons left. I saw ��em fly off.��

    ��Some did, yes. But magic has its tricks, remember? Or do you forget your grays?��

    She turned a mischievous eye to Syra, ��Care to show your other face?��

    With some hesitation, Syra let her nordic form slip away. But to her surprise, her human form only brought cheers of amazement.

    ��You��re a shifter?�� One nord asked, nearly spilling his drink.

    ��A dragon shifter?�� asked another.

    ��Um��yes.�� Syra offered a wry but honest smile. ��I-I am. And these two are my siblings. I hope we��re not intruding too badly.��

    But only enamored��albeit tipsy��hollers answered her.

    ��As I��ve said, you are welcomed guests,�� Ariksi said, noticing her pleasant surprise. ��Nords and dragons have hunted together for many seasons, but this is the first time we have feasted together. So please, allow us to show you our greatest hospitality by inviting you to participate in Amashka alongside us.��

    ��Amashka?�� Syra asked Leti, but only received an impish grin from her flushed friend.

    ��We will ask again,�� Leti pronounced, her accent slurring, ��do the dragons dance?��

    The hall quieted in anticipation. But the clatter of window chimes invited them to join the rhythm.

    ��Not on these legs, I��m afraid,�� Cassius spoke up, his cheeks betraying him. ��But, this one sings.��

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Petra slapped his arm, ��Don��t volunteer me!��

    ��Oh, do join us,�� Ariksi beamed and waved her towards the group of musicians at the front. ��We even know a few of your hunting songs.��

    Petra stopped chewing and rested her fork on her empty plate, brow raised, ��Do you now?��

    Ariksi matched her steady gaze, ��Oh, yes. Even, The Sky Burns Red.��

    A smirk played on Petra��s lips, and she eyed the hide drum sitting unattended.

    ��Only if I have the right accompaniment,�� she said, nudging Cassius in his side. ��I think you can manage without your tail.��

    The air in the hall thickened with the hum and pulsing of reed, string, and drum, and the rattle of tiny bones. And when Petra��s clear opening call rang out, even the couples in the back turned an ear. While Cassius strained to play tailbeats with an awkward foot, Petra��s eyes fell closed as she sunk into the waves of sound. Syra willed herself to keep focused on her siblings�� performance, but soon found herself swept up with the rest of them. The rhythmic tide sent them all swaying and knuckles-deep into braiding each other��s hair. By moonhigh, the strokes of Leti��s fingers through Syra��s hair made even her short arm hairs stand on end. But despite her pampering, her gaze still found its way to Aidan who had finally surrendered to the communal grooming.

    ��You know, you can bed him if you like,�� Leti whispered to Syra, noticing how the two exchanged looks yet remained seated. ��There��s still a room to spare.��

    ��Excuse me?�� Syra stiffened. ��That��s not��I couldn��t. We��re not����

    Leti pressed her nose just under Syra��s ear and took a deep sniff, ��You reek more of desire than wine.��

    "Damn it," Syra shrunk away and focused her eyes on the woven strands of her shawl. "I''m just weak when it comes to him."

    Leti''s eyes glinted, "And what''s wrong with that?"

    Syra scoffed, ��Too many reasons. Plus, he��s probably more interested in planning our next move than me right now.��

    ��Not according to his britches,�� Leti said with a smirk.

    Syra fought the urge, but turned a slow, appraising eye to the long frame now beaded with sweat. Leti wasn��t lying. Even she could smell the musk off his skin.

    ��You might as well ask,�� said Leti. ��You��ve done the feasting. Now, go have some fun.��

    Leti��s drunken cackle drew Aidan��s attention and he locked eyes with Syra. She urged her eyes to move, but his black holes remained fixed, sucking her in and holding her until her lungs screamed to breathe again. A forced breath freed her gaze and she feigned interest in the gathering forming by the fire.

    What are you doing? This is not the time and definitely not the place for any of that.

    But Aidan��s gaze clung to her, and her fingers ached to tug those braids loose.

    "No one thinks straight this time of year." Cassius'' words echoed in her head.

    Damn, this moon.

    As if to answer, the music stopped. All eyes snapped to Ariksi who stood by the fire pit, fully garbed in a dragonskull headdress and shawl whose sleeves brushed the floor and donned the painting of dragon wings.

    ��The moon is here,�� she announced, raising an arm to the white orb shining through the vent. ��All who wish to join the dance, please come forward.��

    Half the hall wobbled to the fire and cloaked themselves in various shawls. Some woven, others painted, a few worn and bandaged, but all stitched or brushed with care. To one half, Ariksi gave dragon horns like the ones she wore. To the other half she gave wide, curved horns, like the crescent mouths of the skyrays.

    ��Syra!�� Ariksi tossed her a smaller horned headband. ��You should join, too, given you��re��well, you. Petra and Cassius already have theirs on.��

    Aidan fumbled to find the eye holes in his headdress, but Syra fiddled with the lacquered wooden horns.

    This woman and her costumes. They��re even the right shape, too.

    ��Well, come on.�� Aidan hunched over and dropped her a hand. ��Oh right, excuse me,�� he cleared his throat and bowed obnoxiously low. ��May I have this dance, my lady?��

    Syra''s snort banished her concerns to the sidelines and she crowed herself with the horns, grasping his hand with proper, dainty fingers.

    ��Why, what fine etiquette.�� He aired through a smirk, lifting her from the floor. ��Lady Prys would be so proud.��

    ��Thank you, kindly. And I��d like to agree, but I severely doubt she would approve the attire.��

    His smile stretched beyond the cover of his mask and he placed a hand atop her head, thumbing the wooden barbs that sprouted from her hair.

    ��You know, I think they suit you.��

    Syra felt her cheeks flush. Her eyes darted away, but the gentle squeeze of his hand drew them right back to his. They held her fast, but were glazed and reddening.

    I wonder if he��ll even remember any of this tomorrow.

    ��Come!�� Ariksi��s call broke their staring and made spectacle of the large skull being heaved into the room.

    All murmurs ceased. And all eyes followed the skyray��s skull as it was hoisted above the fire pit.

    ��Tonight, we sing for Life,�� Ariksi said, motioning to the scavenged feasting platters. ��As we, too, dance for Death. Would those with offerings please come forward?��

    At her nod, Leti''s grandmother led the flower-crowned procession to the front, where each adorned the skull with yellow flower buds.

    ��Death comes to us all, be it the hunter or prey. But it is through death that we may sustain life," Ariksi continued. "It is this cycle that connects us all. As the Bud Moon births life from the earth, The Hunt returns it. As such, we must honor this cycle and the lives that were cut short unwillingly.��

    Ariksi raised a hand, and the skull was lowered into the flames. The bones cracked and the herbs singed and smoked, sending a plume of white skyward.

    ��We thank you, Fallen One, first from the sky,�� she cast her voice into the smoke. ��For your tiresome journey here, we thank you. For all your days before, we thank you. For the lives you spare from the frost and the dark, we thank you. For all this, we release what remains back to Erd. May your bones return to Her body, and may your essence rejoin Her flow and be blessed in its next coming.��

    She grabbed the rods sewn to the edge of her sleeves and lifted both arms to the sky, displaying the full wingspan of the shawl, ��Ama shi kah!��

    ��Ama shi kah!�� repeated the gathering.

    ��Ama shi kah,�� Syra whispered to herself, stewing in the reverence of a simple, ��please and thank you��.

    With the music��s return, the gathering began their dance. They hopped and flapped and swerved in a musical version of chase as the cloaked figures mimicked the swoops and turns displayed in the sky earlier that day. Even Petra and Cassius joined in after some of Ariksi��s prodding.

    Syra bounced along on the outskirts watching her sister flit about chasing the miniature skyray, musing at her feeble attempt to make her human voice roar.

    ��You know, I don��t think I��ve ever seen her this happy,�� she said, half to herself.

    ��This is the real festival, right here.�� Leti hopped over with a satisfied grin. ��Those others in the North Ward, they just see it as another excuse for food and��fun. They may parade their wares and sell their idol trinkets, but the young ones know little of their meaning. I��m glad you at least get to see the real thing before everyone forgets.��

    Syra paused her flapping to plant a fist firmly to Leti��s shoulder, ��I definitely won��t forget.��

    Leti��s bright grin turned smug as Aidan wavered over to them.

    ��You know what��s the best way to dance?�� she whispered up at Syra. ��Take your shoes off.��

    With that she flap-hopped away, but kept them in her periphery.

    ��What was that about?�� Aidan asked.

    Syra hesitated, watching Leti fumble to toss off her own boots, but then unstrapped her own.

    ��Etiquette.��

    Even if she couldn��t see the shimmers of mana, her bare feet certainly felt them. The floorboards buzzed and tingled and sent waves of warmth up one leg and down the other. The smoke and wine only intensified the sensation. Her head swam, but not from deprivation��quite the opposite. She was absolutely full. So full that her body hummed and she could feel the earth pulse under her feet. She had no choice but to dance. To transfer the flow from one foot to the other. To waft it into the air with each beat of her draped arms. This was not a practiced dance like those of Lady Prys, but each step was light and firmly planted. This was a dance that her body knew. A dance with the earth itself.

    But Aidan, despite his alchemical dealings, was not accustomed to such shifts in mana flow. Especially not those that affect one��s footing. And the next surge sent one foot too wide, and the rest of him careening into Syra.

    The thud of her head on wood filled her ears, but was soon replaced by the laughter of others and herself.

    ��Shit, are you alright?�� Aidan half-laughed from his wobbly stance over her.

    ��Heavy,�� she huffed up at him, straining under the weight of the body that pinned her down.

    ��Sorry!�� He pushed himself up only to have the wine weaken his arms.

    But Syra let him struggle. His body was warm, his weight comforting, and the heat off his skin filled her nose with moon musk. Like with the dance, her body responded on its own.

    ��I��m not,�� she hushed into his ear, letting her lips brush against the curve of his neck.

    She felt his muscles stiffen, but he remained still and his scent only grew stronger. She let her body relax, allowing his weight to sink into her.

    ��No, I really am.�� With a gentle touch, he took up her hand and pressed it to his forehead.

    ��I��m sorry," he repeated, this time in firm Draconic, snapping Syra��s eyes to his. "For everything. For being so demanding and short with you. For not listening. For doubting you and the twins, even though you''re fighting just as hard as I am.�� He looked down at the ring rocking gently from its chain between them. ��And I''m sorry for taking so long to give you an answer.��

    Fearscent tainted his sweetness as he paused to sort and select the right words.

    ��I want...I want you to stay with me. I don��t know how we��ll find the shards, or if we even can defeat Marrak. And I certainly don��t know what lies after that. But what I do know is that, right now, with you here, I��m happy. And I want you to stay here, with me.�� He grazed his thumb across her hand. ��I don��t know how we��ll do it, or if Father will ever approve. And I know you will have your own responsibilities, as will I. But, if it��s at all possible, I��d like to fight for it. For us.��

    Syra��s lips fluttered and fumbled, grasping for words that just wouldn��t form.

    ��You don��t have to answer now��by all means, take your time. But, I hope that after all of this is over, however it turns out, that you��ll come home with me and we can figure things out together.��

    Home. A word that smelled of warm moss, sunned linen, and smudged parchment. But with those came familiar laughs and the warmth and crackle of a tended fire. Like the ones around her right now.

    Syra squirmed away and stood, drawing him to his feet.

    ��D-did I say something wrong?��

    But she only gave him a smirk and stepped away. Then, she stomped. Hard. The hollow thud of wood calling the others�� attention. Lifting her arms, she flared the wings of her shawl and gave them a thorough quiver.

    Petra��s groan cut through the drumming, ��Oh, Lord, please no.��

    But Aidan chuckled at her display and mimicked her movements anyway.

    Syra crept around him, keeping her arms outstretched and stomping in slow, calculated steps as she encircled him. When at his back, she paused and quivered her wings again, eyes awaiting his answer.

    ��He doesn��t know what you��re doing,�� Petra whined.

    But his eyes never left Syra. She was serious this time. This wasn''t like their History class demonstration. Her back was straight, head high, and arms wide and welcoming. This was her answer. And when his left wing dropped, Ariksi squealed in delight.

    He stomped his way slowly around to Syra, until they were face-to-face again. He gave a final stomp and Syra dropped her wing, hooking it onto his. In an odd waltz, they shuffle-stomped around each other, waving their free wing with the beat of Cassius�� drum until the dance ended with heads bowed and horns locked.

    ��Ugh, you did it all wrong,�� said Petra when the music stopped, ��you��re supposed to drop your right...��

    But Petra��s critique and Cassius�� subsequent reprimands were mere muffles in the couple��s ears. The moon had them now, and neither even noticed Leti parting the snickering crowd for them to slip into the corner stall.

    ***

    The next morning brought Syra a dry mouth and sore legs. Dim light barely outlined the curtained window, but her eyes still squinted. She tugged the fur blanket up to her ears and flopped over.

    No.

    But her knee hit something squishy and warm, and she blinked awake to see Aidan snug and dozing in the nest of pillows around them. She took her time watching him. How his chest rose and fell like waves. How his lips twitched in dreaming. How his hair was as disheveled as when they first met, yet the smooth strands draped over his jawline in gentle curves as if painted with the finest ink.

    It''s almost as long as Petra''s now, she thought, watching a long strand wiggle against his breath, but I doubt she''d let him borrow her ribbon.

    She took it all in, storing his every detail in her mind, just in case. But when she reached to flick the strand from his cheek, a pang in her gut seized her hand.

    Ugh. Damn it, right now?

    She forced the pang away and wriggled towards his chest and its welcoming warmth.

    Yes, right now, her bladder complained and shot off another warning squeeze.

    Fuck, alright! Revenge of the wine, I get it.

    She slithered out from the blankets, skin prickling from the morning chill, and slipped on her clothes. Padding into the sleeping hall, bodies and bottles littered the floor. Some in piles, others halfway off tables, but most of them completely bare. The twins dozed by the smoldering fire, swaddled together in shawls and looking like a seed pod save Petra��s one foot sticking out. Syra stifled a laugh at Blyth��s grinning face nuzzled into Ariksi��s bossom.

    I guess he came after all.

    She took a moment to breathe in the stillness and quiet before her bladder screamed again, then tiptoed out the door.

    ��Those braids didn��t last long.��

    Syra startled at the chuckle from behind her. She spun to see Leti bundled and grinning from over her steaming mug as she rocked a purring Pishy.

    ��Oh,�� she patted her mane of waves leftover from last night and returned the grin. ��They rarely do with him.��

    ��Then why on Erd are you out of bed? And dressed?��

    Syra rolled her eyes and pointed to the trees, ��Because wine.��

    Leti snickered into her tea and waved down the dirt road, ��Ah, yes. The shit pit is down that way. Just don��t get caught, remember? Not like anyone else is up at this hour.��

    The sky was barely awake but already wore red scales. Luckily, the roads were shadowed, the outhouse unoccupied, and a kindly bouquet sat fresh on its shelf.

    Syra massaged her temples as her memories returned along with a headache.

    Shit, the shard was gone, right. How were we going to find it, again? We needed to ask Ariksi something. Something about...a mana pool, I think?

    She cursed her headfog and stared at the fragrant spring flowers, still bright and perky in their vase despite being out of season. Her eyes narrowed and curiosity drew them down the stems to the faintly glowing stones submerged at the base.

    Really? she scoffed to herself. This is what��s considered ��bare necessity��? Surely, they could find a better use. Like heating this place or growing more food, or��

    The image of the grove trees was fuzzy, but she clearly recalled the strong sense of mana flowing through them.

    Parchment trees. They can only grow along mana veins, so maybe��

    She scrambled to fix herself and dashed out of the hut, following the forest trail they entered from. Sunlight glimmered on the edge of the canopy when she stopped to stretch her legs at the barn.

    If I can follow the mana flow from this grove, then maybe I can find the source. That could at least point us in a direction. Now, how did Cas do it, again?

    She calmed her breathing and focused, trying to remember the flow back in the cave. But only the air vibrated against her skin. Not enough to follow. But the setting moon winked down at her.

    Oh, right!

    She pulled at her laces and kicked off her boots, rooting her toes into the dirt. She had to brace herself against the doorframe as the flow surged up through her legs, making them wobble. Her toes tingled more than her heel, so she headed off into the grove away from the settlement. Midway through, the shimmering dust appeared.

    There you are.

    The trails of dust wavered through the ground, flowing from somewhere beyond the grove and towards the river.

    She halted at the far edge of the grove, where the forest thinned into a mossy, alpine plain surrounding the ravine of The Gaping Maw. Despite the wind��s chill, the ground was warm. And through the morning gray, she watched the web of shimmers pulse outward away from the rocky jaws.

    It must be somewhere down there. But, that��s pretty open��I should probably go get the others.

    She turned to head back, but a tug at her neck made her pause. The pearl warmed and hummed at her chest, tugging against its chord as if drawn back by a thread.

    Yes! I knew it!

    Her spirit leapt and she dashed down the hillside, clutching the pearl that only grew warmer the closer she came to the ridge.

    Maybe I can find it before anyone else wakes up. That��d certainly be a good morning surprise.

    She skittered to a stop at the edge of the ravine. Beyond it, the Firelands of Ignis territory speckled the dark horizon in embers. And below rapids churned, parted only by a small island that grew an unusually large tree. A tree that, to the normal eye, appeared as a stunning silver-leafed aspen. But to Syra��s eyes, it housed a swirling galaxy.

    A Mother Tree?

    She scanned the area but found only lingering evening bugs.

    No sign of any fae. Maybe it��s just too young? It is smaller than Kor Lahru''s. But maybe that��s because the shard was buried only recently!

    She clambered down the rocky ledges until she slid in the shallow shoals surrounding the tree. Even the water was warm and soothed her bruised feet.

    You have to be here. Please, be here.

    As she approached the towering tree the pearl glowed within her hand, pulling it towards the trunk. She stared from the tree to the pearl, and back, surprised by the sense of longing that radiated from her hand.

    ��Is��is this what you want?�� she asked the pearl.

    Its glow pulsed and she chuckled down at the round, silver-white stone.

    ��This whole time, you just wanted to come here? To come��home?��

    She removed the pearl from its bindings and held it to the trunk. Her fingers strained to keep hold against it pulling and, for a moment, she hesitated.

    Should I really be doing this, though? Or am I helping too much again? I don��t even know what will happen. Or who even put this here. Maybe I should just go get the others. Aidan might know��

    In her faltering, the pearl pulled free and snapped to the tree, burying itself into the bark.

    ��Shit, no no no! Wait, come back!�� She dug at the bark, but the pearl was gone.

    The tree creaked and groaned as its wood wavered and bent on its own. Light threaded through its bark until its entire form glowed. And then, piece by piece, it dissolved into shimmering dust. But the dust did not blow away in the wind. It hovered and swirled, then condensed into an orb of golden light. A small, hovering sun that bobbed above her. Its corona flickered and rippled through the air in warm waves. Pleasant and familiar like an old dream, but with a large presence despite its actual size. And then, the orb spoke.

    ��Syra? Oh, stars, look how you��ve grown.��

    The voice was startlingly full and spoke in fluent��and familiar��Draconic.

    That voice, Syra stumbled backwards, I know it. I know it, but��it can��t. Can it?

    But it was the same. The same comforting ripples, with the presence like a passing storm. The same warmth that wrapped her snug before hibernation. The same clear tone that sang her lullabies.

    ��Apparently, it can,�� said the orb, itself surprised.

    Syra felt her chest shatter. Every lock on her little box snapped and the stagnant pool bubbled over and sprung up her throat and out her eyes.

    ��Mother?��

 |Chapter 35| Five of Stones

    <hr>

    As if triggered by her words, the orb exploded in a silent shockwave. Syra lurched back as the expanding dust cloud filled the ravine and cast auroras upon the walls. It swirled and warped, until its amoeboid shape condensed into a shimmering nebula of draconic form. Then, with a flutter, its glowing eyes opened and locked on to the small human crouched below.

    ��H-how am I here?�� the cloud asked, examining the ghostly mist that somehow contained itself. Its voice was soft and calm, despite its looming presence. ��Was this your work, little one?��

    But Syra shook her head, her words failing as her mind sputtered to make sense of the scene in front of her.

    ��N-no. I have no idea how��or if it��s even possible to��everything I��ve read says it not, but��is it��is it really you?��

    The cloud lowered its head and Syra stretched up her hands for its snout. But her fingers clawed at air. Thick and warm like breath but tingling like shifting sands. She burrowed her face into the mist and let it fill her nose.

    It is her. It��s faint, but I can barely smell her. Mother��she��s here. But how? Even animancy can��t shape souls. Or can it? Is there more to it than what Valen said��what the Council said? Baba certainly seemed to know more than them. But, if it is animancy, then she��ll need a shell��a strong one. Without that she��ll��

    A stabbing chill drew her eyes to the edge of the mist. One by one, she watched the silvery embers flake off and waft away like drifting stars, only to be eaten by the wind.

    ��You can��t stay, can you?��

    Nova, too, watched her form slowly dissolve, ��At this rate of decay, most likely not.��

    ��No!�� Syra pulled away and scoured the cliffs and shoals for any glint of crystal light. ��There has to be something here we can use. I know it won��t hold long, but maybe it��ll last long enough for us to find a better����

    ��Syra. Syra, come here.��

    The rush of Nova��s tail encircling her made Syra pause, and her glistening eyes met Nova��s glowing ones.

    ��But we have to find you a shell before����

    ��There is no shell for me, little one.�� Nova unfurled her wings and draped them around her daughter, surrounding Syra in a vortex of stars. ��So, please, just��sit with me while we have this moment.��

    ��But I can����

    ��How are the twins?�� Nova grinned down and Syra drooped, letting herself lean into the starry current.

    Images of Cassius clutching Aidan and Petra��s pavilion performance flashed in her mind, and a small smile flickered on her face.

    ��Strong. Petra��s a songstress like you. And she��s Vayguard now, too. I can see why��she��s super bossy and sounds just like Papa sometimes. But she��s constantly getting scolded by Cas, so I guess they��re both like him in some ways.��

    ��Thank Draco,�� Nova breathed a sigh of relief. ��They were so young when I��when I left. I missed so much��their first flight, first hunt��first flame.��

    Syra��s gaze dropped at the regret in her mother��s eyes, ��Oh, their flames are plenty strong��there��s no problem with that."

    You��d still be waiting for mine, though.

    Nova''s starry gaze shone straight through Syra''s mask.

    "And there''s no problem with you, either."

    Syra''s surprise made her chuckle, "A sleeping fire still burns, remember?"

    Syra chest warmed at all the times her mother had repeated that old adage. Even Valen had mentioned it a few times whenever a setback would rouse her self-doubt from its cage.

    "They miss you," Syra continued, "Cas doesn��t say anything, but I know it��s hard on Petra. They should probably be here instead of me��all they have are faint memories.��

    Subtle mischief danced on Nova��s smirk, ��Now, that is something we can change.��

    She passed a large hand over the rippling waters below.

    ��That one will do,�� she pointed a talon at a flat pebble wedged between the submerged stones. ��Bring it here, please.��

    Syra skittered to fetch the stone but hesitated as she drew it from the water.

    ��A��mussel?��

    ��Open it.��

    Syra clawed the slick shells open and paused at the shimmer peeking out from the slimy flesh within. Plucking the pearl from its nest, she held it up to the fading vestige, its white sheen reflecting the surrounding auroras.

    ��What exactly will this do?��

    ��Not much,�� Nova admitted, ��but it��s the best message I can manage.��

    Heat flooded Syra��s hands as Nova��s hands encased them. With wide eyes, she watched the starry mist swirl and funnel from Nova into the pearl. And with them, came a warm longing. An ache she could only compare to that long night in Omei��when the memory of Aidan��s embrace threatened to become permanent, and when the urge to both cling on and wish well fought equally.

    A beautiful pain, she thought, allowing the riptide to saturate her and the pearl gripped in her hand. And, if she listened past the pounding in her chest, she could just make out the hum of a lullaby.

    ��The imprint won��t last long,�� Nova said, snapping Syra from her trance, ��but I hope it��ll be enough for closure.��

    Nova withdrew her hands and Syra looked up to see half of her mother��s form already dissolved away, with more flecks leaving on each breath.

    ��Thank you for finding me,�� Nova said through a half-smile and squinted eye. ��I��m so happy you��re alright. You��re glowing even more than I hoped for.��

    ��Wait!�� Syra shoved the pearl into a pocket and gripped Nova��s face, only to scatter the mist more. ��No, wait! I still have so many questions!��

    Shit��I never even asked about the shards, or Marrak.

    ��Please! Mother, don��t leave me!��

    At this Nova only chuckled, ��Oh, little one, I never left.��

    She knelt her head and pressed it lightly to Syra��s forehead.

    ��I don��t remember much from my sleep, but I can tell you this: this world is just a veil. A reflection of things that our eyes can see. But under that veil we are all connected��here,�� she placed a single claw to Syra��s chest. ��It is here that I will always be, my little Namarani.��

    At the utterance of her True Name, Syra��s chest glowed. And in its radiance, a single thread shimmered in the distance between them, ending at the glowing orb within Nova��s own chest.

    ��The day gives warmth to the earth, and the night returns it,�� Nova cooed. ��We don��t know why or how. Where it comes from or where it goes. But, it��s constantly flowing��like mana, changing every now and then. Essence is like that, too. So, I��m sure that one day, somehow, we��ll meet again.��

    Her laugh was cut off by a gale rushing down the ravine, taking all but her head and chest with it.

    ��No, not yet!�� Syra��s hands shot out, latching onto the wavering thread. ��Don��t go����

    As her fingers curled around the thread of light, a surge of mana bolted through her arms and filled her head with buzzing, bringing darkness with it.

    ***

    ��Take care of her.��

    A voice cut through the dark mist. Strained and wispy. Her mother��s voice.

    ��Mother?�� Syra called through the void only for her words to die passed her lips.

    Syra squinted as light suddenly illuminated the swirling mist around her. It was only a bubble of light with darkness closing in at its periphery, and the figures were blurry. But she could make out the ravine, and the river, and the small island she was standing on.

    ��Please, there��s no one else����

    Syra spun around to see the crumpled and gasping mass of a dragoness splayed on the ground��her wings bent and broken under her body, and ribs shining red and protruding from silver scales.

    ��Mother!�� She rushed to Nova��s side, but the mist only wafted away from her touch.

    ��No,�� replied the other shadow crouching over her, ��you just hang on a little but longer. We can fix this. I can fix this.��

    ��Not this time��the darkness is here already.��

    ��Then fight it! You have to try����

    ��Please��for me. You have to watch over her��there��s no one else to teach her.��

    ��I am no replacement for you, Nova. You know this.��

    At this Nova only smiled.

    ��I know I can trust my best friend to try.��

    Nova��s eyes slid closed, and the shadows crashed over with mournful roar. A roar that echoed through the darkness until it became a cry. But not a cry of sorrow. A squealing cry from a tiny, but hungry stomach. And as the light returned, the cry doubled into two raspy squeals from the gaping mouths poking through cracked eggshell��one copper, the other gold.

    ��Are those���� Syra gawked down at the two hatchlings squirming to free themselves from their shared prison.

    ��This is Cassius, and this is Petra.��

    The familiar, deep voice made her chest seize. She bit down on her cheek and took a deep breath before looking up.

    There he was. Looking down at her with those sky-filled eyes. His form misty with blurred edges, but her eyes clung to her father��s image as if one blink would scatter it.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ��They are your new siblings,�� Nova cooed from her other side, healthy and beaming from the surprise wyrmling the hatching brought.

    ��They��re so tiny.��

    Syra startled from the small voice behind her and spun to see her younger self curiously picking away at the remaining shell.

    ��For now,�� Nova said with a knowing grin. ��Soon, they��ll be just as big as you. If not bigger.��

    Nova prodded baby Syra in the side with a tickling claw, sending her into a laughing fit. A display that baby Petra found amusing enough to hiccup a tiny puff of smoke.

    ��Until then, you��ll need to help look after them.�� Rigel craned his head down to meet hers, ��Think you can do that?��

    ��I��m trying, Papa,�� Syra whispered to him and stroked his head with a quivering hand. ��But they��re quite capable on their own now. Even without our help.��

    The hatching den and its occupants faded, but the giggling of wyrmlings continued. Through the shadows, two voices danced about chasing after each other, until moonlight spilled into the cavity of a ruined chamber hall.

    ��I did it!�� One voice called out as a shadowy wyrmling galloped into the hall. ��I finally heard it, Nova! I heard my Name!��

    Nova? Syra looked over to the silver wyrmling doodling on the wall. Wait, that little thing is Mother?

    ��Really?�� Nova abandoned her wall drawing and scampered to her giddy friend, butting his head in greeting.

    ��Yes, really!��

    He wiggled an excited rump, but she paused and narrowed her eyes.

    ��You sure it wasn��t just your stomach growling again?��

    ��Yes yes,�� he held out a claw to her, ��I swear! I actually heard it this time.��

    Nova��s frill flared as a smile split her snout open.

    ��That��s amazing!�� She leapt and tackled him, the sudden weight buckling his legs and sending them to the floor in a giggle fit.

    ��So, what is it, then?�� she asked, lounging across him.

    ��What? My name?��

    ��Yes, foghead, your Name,�� she mocked, drooping her tail over his face.

    But he swiped it away and pulled himself out from under her, his sudden silence filling the hall.

    ��What?�� she asked, her frill flattening.

    ��You know I can��t tell you that.��

    ��Bashta, why not?��

    ��Alder said it��s only for pair bonds to know.��

    Nova clenched her jaw against her curiosity, ��Well��we are friends, right? I mean, you��re my best friend at least.��

    ��Definitely! I mean, I have other clan friends, but��they��re not like you. So����

    ��So, what��s the difference? If I tell you mine, then it��ll be fair, right?��

    ��I don��t know, Nova. Alder��s pretty serious about this kind of stuff.��

    ��Oh, come on, Marrak! Alder��s serious about the brewing temperature for tea, and nothing bad has come of that.��

    ��Actually, temperature can make some tea really bit����

    She latched a claw around his and shoved their foreheads together.

    ��I promise, I won��t tell anyone,�� she hushed, a hint of sadness tainting her jovial tone. ��Not like they''d believe me anyway. I''m just some fancy foothiller to them. But you...you actually listen to my stupid ramblings. You...understand me��at least it seems like you do. So, I just��want to know you better, too.��

    Marrak''s gaze softened as a small ember grew inside him, "You''re not just some foothiller, Nova. You''re...you''re actually pretty brilliant. Sure, I get lost in some of your ideas, but that''s because I can''t keep up, not because they''re stupid. Anyone who can''t see that is just blind."

    The quiet joy on her face made his spines relax as all reluctance seeped away.

    ��Fine, I''ll tell you,�� he said, leaning his snout closer to her ear. ��My Name��my Name is Valkrios.��

    ***

    As the memory faded, the light from young Marrak��s chest was replaced by the sunrise and the last flickering embers of Nova��s ghost.

    ��You��were friends. Bonded friends.��

    Syra stared down at the cleared spot where her mother��s tree had been. Now, only a gnarled scar remained as any evidence of their encounter.

    ��How did everything go so wrong?��

    But as Syra wiped a tear away, a glimmer caught her eye. She thought it a lingering tear and wiped again, but there it stayed��glinting up from the scarred earth. Her breath caught as she bent to reach for it, and her smile returned.

    ��But you��re still here, I see,�� she told the pearl shining up at her.

    But as she plucked the pearl from the dirt, it dissolved. And as the sand and dust fell from her hand, it left only a small, crystal shard behind.

    ��Seriously?�� she scolded the glinting shard. ��This whole time?�� She threw her hand back in a groan and shoved the shard into the pocket with the new pearl. ��Petra��s never going to let this go.��

    But the pearl was warm against her hand, and she cast a wide grin at the empty island before ascending the ridge.

    ��Thank you, Mother.�� She let the Old Draconic words linger in her mouth, as if their reverberation would echo through the veil to reach her. ��I promise, I��ll keep trying.��

    ***

    Her triumphant return to the hall was met by a swarm of sighs and scowls.

    ��Syra!�� Aidan leapt from his chair, face lined and pale, but Petra got to her first.

    ��Where on Erd have you been?�� Her gold eyes blazed down at her, but her brow also wore wrinkles. ��And don��t say the shit pit, ��cause we already looked.��

    ��I went����

    Aidan��s firm hold cut off her explanation, ��We thought they caught you.��

    ��Or you ran off again,�� added Cassius, stroking an irritated Pishy.

    ��I went to the river,�� Syra said, fidgeting under the weight of their stares.

    ��The river?�� Aidan pulled back, ��But that��s so far. You could��ve been seen.��

    ��Why would you go so far out?�� Cassius asked, ��And without telling us?��

    Syra gave Aidan��s hand a gentle squeeze and smiled up at him, ��I found it.��

    ��What?��

    ��The mana pool��I found it. I followed the mana streams through the orchard, and it brought me to the river.��

    ��Wait. So, the mana pool��the one you mentioned last night��is in the river?��

    ��In a way, I suppose.��

    ��You suppose?��

    ��You should��ve at least told us,�� said Cassius. ��We would have gone with you. What if you ran into someone out there?��

    ��To my credit, I did consider that. Until I lost the pearl.��

    ��You what?�� Petra��s budding grin flattened. ��You lost��the what?��

    ��It��s alright, I swear.�� Syra couldn��t help but smile as she dug through her pocket.

    ��No, it��s not!�� Petra snarled down at her. ��Father gave you that pearl. I can��t believe you��d��"

    ��I found something better.��

    Syra opened her hand to Petra, revealing the pearl and shard.

    ��Wait. Is that���� Petra��s sudden stupor called everyone��s attention to Syra��s palm.

    ��Yep.��

    ��You found it?�� Aidan shoved his face into her hand for a closer examination. ��This is the shard? As in the shard? The one that was missing?��

    Syra bit back a giggle, ��Yep.��

    ��That��s amazing!�� Aidan threw his arms around her and lifted her up until her toes dangled.

    ��I know. But I didn��t get just that.�� She squirmed herself down and held the pearl out to Petra and Cassius.

    ��But you said you lost the pearl,�� said Petra.

    ��This one is different. This one��s for you. Both of you.��

    ��For��us?�� Petra asked, reaching. ��That��s oddly nice of you.��

    ��Oh, it��s not from me.��

    Petra��s hand recoiled, ��Then from who?��

    ��You tell me.��

    Syra grabbed Petra��s hand and wrapped her fingers around the warm stone. Petra jerked as the mana surged through her, casting a thin aura that draped her in stardust. Her hand lurched, but Syra held firm, watching her face. Watching her pupils expand, then dart around searching the empty air, then finally settle on the face only she could see. All tension melted from her brow and her arms went limp.

    ��M��Mother?�� Red swelled into Petra��s cheeks, and she gripped the pearl with both hands.

    ��Yep,�� Syra cooed, relinquishing the pearl to her.

    ��Cas, come here!�� Petra��s misting eyes jolted her brother from his seat. ��It��s her��it��s really her. I can feel her. I can��actually hear her.��

    The twins stood motionless as the silent hall watched in confusion. But Syra knew that stare��that longing air. They were with her, with Mother, down in the river listening to her voice and the bittersweet memories it brought. And just like at the river, the mist and its messenger were gone too soon.

    ��H-how did you get this?�� Cassius creaked out, the pearl now dull in their hands.

    ��I��m not actually sure how it works. But I do remember reading about these magic mussels that live near����

    The weight of Petra��s arms caught Syra off-guard and she stumbled back, only to be pulled tight into Petra��s chest.

    ��P-Petra?�� She faltered, her body awkwardly rigid against her sister��s. It was the smell of salt that drew her attention to Petra��s clenched jaw and the single droplet hanging from it.

    ��Thank you,�� Petra squeaked out. ��I don��t know how you made this, and right now I don��t care, but I��I just���� She balled the tiny pearl tight in her fist, ��Can I keep it?��

    The quiet sincerity in her voice made Syra soften, and she gave Petra��s shoulders a quick squeeze before pointing a mocking finger.

    ��Now Petra, you know you have to share with your brother.��

    ��Ugh,�� Petra faked a whine, ��do I have to?��

    ��Yes, you have to!�� said Cassius, nudging Petra in her side. ��She gave it to both of us.��

    ��I guess you��ll just have to take turns,�� Syra said, patting their heads, ��just like with everything else����

    The creak and slam of the door cut off their laughter, and all froze at the stomping of the guards�� angry boots into the hall.

    ��Where is Leti?�� The patrol captain asked, searching the room. ��We know she��s here.��

    ��I��m right here,�� Leti said, stepping forward to eye the captain. ��What do you want, Dahva? You��re interrupting a Scree ceremony.��

    ��She��s right,�� said Ariksi, joining her. ��You��re out of jurisdiction.��

    But Dahva only scowled at her and the gathering, ��The moon has set, Ariksi. And this has nothing to do with your silly party.��

    His disapproving gaze shifted back to Leti and her human guests, ��You brought foreigners into our city without permission. That is certainly within my jurisdiction.��

    ��They��re here on our orders,�� said Leti. ��Stahdler made that very clear.��

    ��Yes, orders that were not approved by the Council. And yes, I checked. But that��s not the issue I��m here about. Apparently, one of your ��guests�� used magic to put an entire terrace to sleep?��

    Leti flinched.

    ��That was spur-of-the-moment. They were stopping us from paying respects, and you know the North Wardens wouldn��t have helped.��

    Dahva��s gaze softened, ��I know, but that still doesn��t make it acceptable. You know this more than anyone.��

    Leti thumbed absently at the scarred-over runes tattooed across her knuckles, and she forced a steadying breath.

    ��Look, I agree that the use of magic was out of line and unplanned,�� she cast a leer at Petra, ��but as you said, they are guests here, so they��re still learning our customs. Given that you��re here, I��m assuming the Council isn��t aware of them yet. So, why don��t you just let us Scree deal with them? They��ll be gone by sundown anyway.��

    ��I would love to do that, Leti, if this was indeed their first offense.�� Dahva stepped aside as Tarsi strolled through the doorway. ��I can��t control how lax your rules are in Koth, but up here we actually follow them. I��m sorry, but I am going to have to bring you to the Council.��

    His raised hand brought the guards and their chains, surrounding the party.

    Syra and the twins readied their hands and Aidan snatched his sword from the table.

    ��Please don��t this��don��t fight,�� said Dahva. His eyes beseeched them but clung to Aidan and his hand hovering at the hilt. ��Please. You��ll only make things worse for yourselves. And your people.��

    The threat only curled Aidan��s fingers tighter, ��Then let us leave now with a valuable lesson. There is no need to worry either of our Councils.��

    ��Your council-of-one isn��t worried enough,�� spat Tarsi from the sidelines. ��Sending its prince and a mage here, of all places, and without even notifying our Council? It��s downright foolish and insulting.��

    ��And you��re supposed to be down a hole in Koth,�� Leti said, turning on him. ��You��re the traitor here, Tarsi. How��d you even get here? Who let you go?��

    ��Hold on, now. What��s all this?�� A familiar voice called beyond the door.

    Tarsi and the guards froze and Syra��s eyes brightened as Valen stepped into the hall.

    ��Valen!�� Syra cried out, splatting confusion across his tired face.

    ��Syra?�� He paused to take in the scene then turned a narrowed eye to Tarsi.

    ��What on Erd are you doing, Tarsi? Were my instructions not clear enough?��

    ��Not at all, sir! You see, I have them safely secured. Well, I was about to����

    ��Oh, no no! This is not what I meant at all.�� Valen dismissed the guards with a wave and a chuckle. "I''m so sorry, Dahva, this is all just a bad misunderstanding."

    ��Wait, but I thought���� Tarsi fumbled.

    ��You were supposed to make sure they were safe and secure, not safely secured.��

    ��But����

    ��A very easy and honest mistake, I understand. But let��s try to avoid causing anymore disruption, alright? You see," he passed a glance to Syra, "these people here are incredibly important to me.��

    Syra thought she caught Tarsi��s lip twitch, but he nodded and backed away. With the guards at ease, she rushed to Valen and threw her arms tight around him.

    ��Thank Erd, you��re here. I was scared we��d have to fight our way out or get locked up before you got here.��

    ��I��m just glad you��re all safe,�� he said, pulling her close. ��Baba told me about what happened in Renguard. I��m so sorry, Bug. Are you sure you��re alright?��

    ��I��m...managing.�� She relaxed under the weight of his chin on her head, ��But, I think it��s all going to get better soon.��

    ��Oh, really now? Why��s that?��

    She muted a squeal and squeezed him tighter.

    ��We did it,�� she whispered. ��We found them. All of them.��

    She jumped as he pulled back to gawk down at her.

    ��All of them?�� he asked, surprised delight cracking his voice.

    ��Yep.�� She pulled the shard from her pocket, its faint glow barely illuminating her palm. ��The others are in the ring, as you instructed,�� she gloated, modeling the ring for him.

    ��They actually fit?�� He laughed, taking her hand and studying the three sparks that swirled inside its green stone.

    ��That��s amazing!�� Valen squeezed her tight. ��I just knew it��I knew you could do it. I was a little worried at first, with the Black Thorn and all, but you actually pulled it off. This is truly excellent work.�� He rustled the rogue waves atop her head, ��I am so proud of you, Bug.��

    For a moment, she let herself fall into him and soaked up the warmth of his arms and his praise, but then craned her head to the others.

    ��It wasn��t just me.��

    ��Of course, it wasn��t.��

    He held out an inviting hand to the others, ��Care to join?��

    ��I��d rather you change me back, thank you very much,�� Petra said, snubbing her nose at him.

    ��Oh right, right! That was the deal, wasn��t it? Alright, then, everyone outside! Gather ��round.��

    The lot followed Valen to the courtyard out front where he positioned the twins in the center, far away from the crowded cabins.

    ��I think this should be enough space,�� he said, looking to Syra.

    ��Syra? The shards, if you please? I fear I might not have the power to break both spells at once. Might as well use them if we have them, right?��

    Syra slipped the ring off, but hesitated, ��Are you sure about this? That��s a lot of mana to use at once.��

    He grinned and gave her shoulder a pat, ��I think just using one will be alright. If not��then it��s a good thing you��re here, right?��

    She watched the treasures fall and clink into his palm, their light disappearing within clawed fingers.

    ��Alright, everyone ready? Here we go.��

    Valen breathed and relaxed, and the twins fidgeted in anticipation. And then, his hands glowed. They glowed bright and steady, and red.

    But it wasn��t the ruby corona surging around him that made Syra��s chest seize. It was the flicker in his eyes. One that burned away their rusty brown into a brilliant, maple red. Fire red. Blood red. Marrak red.

 |Chapter 36| Return to Dorrak (Pt. 1)

    <hr>

    A wry grin answered her paling face. Her feet stumbled back, but his hands were faster. She felt the barrier first��its sharp sting radiating down her arm��and then all she saw was red. Not golden and fractalized like hers. It oozed and wriggled like a dome of lava worms. Thick and cloudy, but translucent enough to watch Valen��s face peer into their warming prison.

    "Valen?" Aidan called, unsettled by the group of nords surrounding them. "What is this?"

    But Valen''s eyes remained locked on Syra.

    "What are you doing?" Syra pleaded through the barrier, stepping as close to him as its heat allowed. "We need to��"

    "Your job is done, Syra." His voice barely reached her over the crackling of the wall, but a faint sadness stung his brow. "Now, it''s my turn."

    "''Your turn''? Your turn for what? What are you even talking about?"

    She searched his face, but only found the same resolute eyes that stared over her untouched cup of tea. Steady eyes tinged with regret, but red like the leaves of the old maple by the academy pond. Their maple, with its treat-filled hidey hole, and that one root just flat enough to hold two mugs of cider. The one that held the promise of cake and stories.

    "I''m sorry, little one," he said, offering her a weak grin, "but I won''t be able to keep our lunch date��though I was truly looking forward to it."

    "But why?" Syra cried up at him. "Just tell me what''s going on, and I''m sure we can figure something out!"

    A soft chuckle escaped Valen''s hard-pressed lips, "You really are like him, you know?"

    "Huh? Like who? Who''s hi��"

    And then she saw it. The light shimmering just beneath the skin around his eyes. Wavering as it expanded in slow ripples across his face, making his outline glow. A glow she was all too familiar with.

    He''s...he''s shifting!

    Her stomach dropped as Valen''s brow widened and protruded over narrowing eyes. His cheeks sharpened. His skin coated itself in warm bronze. His chest and shoulders broadened, filling out his shirt until its fabric stretched in complaint, and his jaw lost its gentle curve to a squared ridge of bone. Even his grin twisted into a thin smirk��one that brought memories of pungent steam, voices echoing off metal, a large hand caressing her ear, and red eyes. His eyes. And now they stared down at her again as Valen''s face was swallowed up by his.

    No. No, it��s not. You��re not��

    "Marrak, you twisted little twadwaddle!" Petra railed a fist against the wall but yanked it back as the heat bit into it. "You used us!"

    She blinked against his wavering image beyond the wall, but his face remained the same.

    No...Valen, you can��t really be��

    She staggered back. Heat left her skin. Her chest tightened and the cold void in her gut grew, taking her breath with it.

    ��Valen? W-what is this? This��this is a trick, right? For the exam?�� She forced a smile but he only shook his head.

    ��No trick, this time.��

    ��B-but you��re��you��re my��you��re supposed to be����

    ��I was your mentor. That was never false. But, like you, I also had my secrets.��

    ��Secrets? So, Petra''s right? You''re...you''re him? You''re Marrak? The Black Thorn leader? The one who...who killed my��"

    "Yes, I''m afraid so."

    "B-but you��you took me in! Taught me magic��your magic! You gave me your old room��your earring��your��" She grabbed at the braid that wasn''t there, "You gave me your name. Are you saying that all this time��all those late nights, the dinners, the dance lessons, the trips to Rivenia��s, the stories by the tree��our tree! Was that��was all that a lie?��

    ��Of course not!�� Marrak faltered forward, but was quick to bridle himself. ��Not completely.��

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    ����Not completely�� my ass!�� Aidan squared him up across the barrier. ��I��ve known you since teething. And Father even longer. And Ethan���� He froze, color draining as his mouth hung open. ��Fuck��Ethan��you��that means that you��re the one that���� His whole body began to shake, and red returned in a blaze across his face. ��Are you saying you planned this from the start? That Ethan was just a pawn that served its purpose?��

    ��Mark me, Aidan!�� A pained snarl peeked from behind his calm mask. ��He was as noble as they come, and I took no joy in his death. But he also understood that the council needed to be jarred from their stupor. Eth����

    ��Don��t you dare say his name!�� He clawed at his hilt with a glare that might have sliced the barrier itself.

    Marrak snapped his mouth shut and lowered his head while the prince stood as a shaking mass of rage and regret.

    ��So that��s it? I��m just a pawn to you, then?�� Syra barked up at him through a tightening throat. ��Just like Ethan? Just like Papa? Just some pet you can coddle then toss when inconvenient?��

    ��No! Not at all.�� He stepped closer to the barrier and peered down at her with softened eyes.

    ��Syra, listen. My time and affections were spent honestly and fully. Neither my praise nor critique were ever false. Did I choose to apprentice you because I knew your history? Yes. Because who else would understand a growing wyrmling''s needs, let alone keep their secret? It��s true: I raised you to be clever, and strong, and resilient because I knew what was coming��what you would have to do����

    ��I didn��t ��have to do�� anything! You made that decision for me!��

    At this he faltered, ��I gave you a choice, remember?��

    ��With a shitty ultimatum! Had I known your plan from the start, I would have chosen differently.��

    ��But would you have? Really? Being faced with exile with no one in your corner?��

    ��Let me guess, you planned that, too?�� Aidan sneered at him.

    But Marrak stepped back with a truly pained expression, ��No. No, that was quite the opposite of what I wanted.�� He held the two in his vision and pointed between them, ��This. This is what I wanted: a union to build a new alliance. One that could stand up to the council, to question them, challenge them, show them the problems that they��re so willfully blind to!��

    ��And by ��council�� you really mean my father, right?��

    Marrak sighed, ��Yes. Unfortunately, his personal darkness hinders him from seeing much light anywhere else. And it��s only gotten worse with Syra��s banishment. But I do not blame him, Aidan. He would leave the darkness if he could. But, he is in no state to govern��you know this. And his council members��not all, but many��are preoccupied with their own agendas. Something needed to be done to wake them up. To��shove their faces into the miring they��ve allowed to build. Syra, Aidan��I��m doing this for them. Not just the Black Thorn but the people they represent. I��m trying to help. I want to help����

    ��By inciting a war? By...killing my brother and their father, and who knows how many others? By promising to kill more if people support you?�� Aidan''s voice cracked as he backed away and unsheathed his sword. ��Damn it, Val��Marrak. We agree on many things��I could even support you in your goal to ��wake up the council����but this? We just left the bloody battlefield! And you want to bring it home? I can��t��no, this is not the way it��s done.��

    Marrak��s eyes dulled as the spark of hope faded, ��Oh, Aidan. How many times have I told you that the ideal way isn��t always the best way?��

    Aidan scoffed, ��You��ve also said that nothing in life is ever ideal.�� He raised his sword, the glow around its edges growing as he drew it back. ��I might not know what the best way is, but I certainly know that this way��your way��is the wrong way!��

    In an arc of light his sword slashed down, slicing through the barrier. Red sparks exploded in a shockwave of dust and wind, throwing all off their feet.

    The dust still hung when Syra heard Aidan calling through the ringing in her ears.

    ��This way!�� He called, tugging her up by her arm.

    She couldn��t see Marrak or the others, but she could hear the scuffling of two long-leggers running beside her.

    ��Cas��Petra��I��m so sorr����

    ��Now is not the time for that,�� said Petra, keeping an eye on the shadows growing behind them. ��Shit, they��re right behind us!��

    As they broke through the cloud, guards riding frosthoof flanked around them.

    ��Bashta!�� Cassius spotted the ridge up ahead, ��They��re going to cut us off!��

    But as they neared the ravine and the guards closed in, a shriek came quick and loud from the sky. With a brilliant flash, a cloud of flames erupted from the arrow implanted in the ground between them, sending everyone off their feet and saddles.

    ��Shit.��

    ��What on Erd was that?��

    ��No idea. Is everyone alright?��

    The party checked themselves over and Syra squinted through the smoke towards the arrow��s release point.

    Leti?

    Her breath caught at the sight of a crumpled nordess stamping her flaming hand into the dirt.

    That arrow��did you just��

    ��Syra, let''s go!��

    The twins grabbed her up as Aidan fiddled with something in his hands. But her gaze clung to the small figure swarmed by guards, and the approaching mage looming ever closer.

    ��They''re still coming!�� Petra pulled the siblings together as the bootsteps rushed in. ��Hurry up with that thing!��

    Aidan tore his attention from his hands and used that voice, ��Syra! Wall, now!��

    Her hands shot up. Like a puppet on tightened strings. The barrier flashed and crackled, and cries of surprise and frustration surrounded them.

    ��Everyone, hold onto me!�� Aidan called as he looped an arm around Syra��s. A ratcheting sound brought a loud crack and a burst of light spiraling around them. The flash of heat turned suddenly cold, and filled her with an empty weightlessness.

    "Shit, they''re fading!" said one nord as he broke through the splintering barrier.

    "Leave them!" Marrak called, staring directly at Syra through the shrinking vortex. "We know where they''re going."

    And then all went black, as if the world was sucked into a pinhole in the sky.

 |Chapter 36| Return to Dorrak (Pt. 2)

    <hr>

    Light and gravity returned along with a retching stomach and the sound of waves on sand.

    ��Ugh��where on Erd are we?�� Syra heard Cassius say as she breathed through a wave of nausea.

    Sounds like the sea. Are we back in Dairos? But why would Marrak come here? Shit. Did they make it through?

    She squinted against the bright sky and white sand, but the smell of fish made her double-over.

    ��Easy, it��s alright. It��s just us.�� Aidan steadied her with a caressing hand on her back. ��At least for now.��

    ��For now?�� asked Petra, squelching out a dry heave. ��You mean they can follow us?��

    ��Aye.�� Aidan winced as he raised a shaking and charred hand from the sand. Resting in his palm was a smudged and empty transpoint compact. ��I grabbed this from one of the guards. Seems they all had one, so I can only assume they��re planning on meeting here. And soon.��

    ��But where is here?�� asked Cassius, surveying the beachfront.

    ��It doesn��t smell like Dairos,�� Syra said, leaning against Aidan to stand. ��And those mountains, they��re way too close to be the Elders.��

    Aidan went silent and scanned the green horizon. But his gaze always came back to the towering peaks on their left and the morning sun on their right.

    ��But they are the Elder Mountains,�� he said to everyone��s surprise. ��We��re just on the other side of them.�� He pointed to the rising sun, ��The eastern side.��

    Syra scrunched her brow, ��Wait, but that means we��re ever farther than Kiithran territory.��

    Aidan nearly laughed, ��Oh, indeed we are. And with the ocean to the south, there��s only one place that��d make sense: Dorrak.��

    ��Dorrak? As in the Dwarven city?��

    ��Mm-hm. That��s probably why this old transpoint is here, yet all you can see is sand and driftwood. Not even a small settlement. But, I suppose a century of storms can do that.��

    ��But what would Val��Marrak want in Dorrak? It��s all mud-and-ruins now. Why bring soldiers here?��

    ��It is plenty open and abandoned. And far from spying eyes,�� Cassius said. ��Remember what that soldier said back in Rozenfall? During the Black Thorn meeting? He mentioned something about ��being ready to sail in a few days��. Maybe they were coming here.��

    ��Maybe,�� said Syra. ��But if they��re planning on attacking Altaira, why not camp in the fields outside the Outer Ring? They��re also pretty open and remote. Why make the trip all the way out here?��

    Silence came again as their minds searched. But a green glint caught Aidan��s attention and his eyes went wide.

    ��The transpoint.��

    ��What about it?�� asked Syra.

    ��He��s going to send soldiers through the transpoint.��

    ��But they��re sailing here. Why����

    ��He��s not sending them here.�� Aidan��s voice strained and Syra felt him stiffen next to her. ��He��s sending them to the transpoint on the MainWay��directly to Altaira. They��ll be completely off-guard.�� His eyes searched the beach. There were no signs of set-up, but if he strained, he could make out tiny dots on the horizon.

    ��Syra,�� he pointed down the beach, ��can you see those dots down there? What are they?��

    ��Dots?�� Syra blinked against the glaring sand and sharpened her vision. ��Mm, it��s too bright and too far to tell for sure, but���� She froze and broke her concentration, looking back at Aidan, ��I highly doubt rocks wear cloaks.��

    ��Shit.�� Aidan turned his attention to the sea. ����A few days�� was a few days ago. They��ll be arriving anytime now.��

    ��I don��t see any sails,�� said Syra, ��and there��s an east wind, so hopefully it��ll slow them a little.��

    ��Either way, we need to leave.�� Petra stood but wavered on her feet as her stomach churned again. ��Damn these transpoints��they��re worse than boats, I swear.��

    ��And go where?�� asked Cassius, steadying her. ��We are way too far from Altaira to warn them.��

    ��Too far to walk maybe.��

    Petra locked-on to Syra, ��Change us back now. It��s the only way to get there before����

    ��And who exactly are you?�� A voice called from the greenery. With slow, cautious steps a bannerless soldier approached with readied sword and coin dangling.

    Shit. Really? Now?

    ��That depends who��s asking,�� Petra barked back at him.

    But the soldier only hastened his steps with sword raised.

    ��Sorry!�� Cassius said, stepping forward. ��Sorry, please excuse her. It seems the transpoint has soured both her stomach and attitude.��

    The soldier stopped and eyed their positioning to the crystal spear, ��You took the transpoint, you say?��

    ��Aye,�� Aidan held up his burnt hand. ��We��re still recovering, unfortunately.��

    ��And how did you come upon that shard? This transpoint has not been used in ages, so what cause do you have to be here?��

    ��We could ask you the same thi����

    Cassius nudged Petra in the side.

    At this the soldier only chuckled to himself as he passed them to confront Aidan, ��Rancid, indeed.��

    ��The shard, sir?�� Syra asked in a dainty tone.

    ��Yes, the transpoint shard that fits inside this compact.�� He pointed to the metal ring in Aidan��s hand and paused in slight pity. ��It seems you have little experience with transpoints? Else you would know to wear a glove.��

    ��Yes, sir,�� answered Aidan, ��this is our first time.��

    ��Is it? Then I��ll ask again, how did you come by this shard?��

    ��It was given to us.��

    ��Given to you? A rare shard like this? By whom?��

    Aidan paused, but Syra��s voice hissed light and low. As if the word was steam that scorched her tongue.

    ��Marrak.��

    The name froze the man in place, ��Come again, miss?��

    She spoke louder this time, bottling the storm inside, ��The man��s name was Marrak. We heard about his mission in Misty Hollow and wanted to help, but��we unfortunately missed the boat in Crescent Bay. We were lucky to run into him on his way north��to Koth, I think it was? Anyway, he gave us this thing and said to ask someone with a bronze coin should we need any help.�� With that she pointed to the coin hanging from his neck. ��I��m assuming he meant you?��

    The soldier paused for a moment, blinking down at the girl and her wild tale, then looked to Aidan

    ��Is this true?��

    ��Yes, sir, it is. Oh, right! Here���� With his good hand, he reached into a vest pocket and pulled out Fin��s necklace, letting the coin hang in front of the soldier��s face. ��He gave us this, too.��

    ��I see.�� The soldier sheathed his sword with a heavy sigh and waved them forward. ��Alright, then. You��re a bit early, so we don��t have the camp set up yet. There is a stream not too far from here,�� he pointed straight back into the trees, ��just a ways into the forest at the base of that mountain. You''ll need to get that hand cleaned up before it festers, but don��t go getting yourself lost or hurt��every able body helps the cause.��

    ��Thank you, sir!�� Aidan and Syra dipped their heads and watched him trot off towards the camp.

    ��Thank Draco, he��s gone. Let��s go!�� Petra spun on a heel to march into the forest.

    ��Wait,�� said Syra, ��I thought you wanted me to change you back.��

    ��I do. But not here. Not when we��re exposed like this. Let��s put some cover between us and then you can get our wings back.��

    ��And��if I can��t?��

    ��You can. But,�� Petra stopped, jaw tight, ��on the off-chance, Heartwood is north of here. Though, I really don��t want to go begging those leaf-lizards if I don��t have to. I already have to put up with Vernyll��s bragging enough as it is.��

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    ***

    They followed the stream into the foothills until the forest of thick trees thinned, and the valley of collapsed and buried buildings stretched out in a solemn greeting. At the mountain��s base, a young forest grew from the debris-covered city. Layers of rock and mud mired shack and spire alike, defacing any marble visible like shit on pearls. Even the banks of the stream tinged the air sour, and Syra caught Aidan��s hands as he knelt for a drink.

    ��Wait��don��t drink that!��

    He startled and flailed to keep from tumbling in, ��Why, what��s wrong?��

    ��It��smells wrong.��

    ��Wrong how?��

    She closed her eyes to place the odor, ��Like a sick cow.�� She turned to the twins, ��Like the pond by the shitpit��the one we could never swim in. That smell.��

    ��Damn it,�� Aidan traced the stream up into the city��s burial mound. ��It��s contaminated.��

    Last night��s wine and the imposing noonday sun dried their mouths, and now their hike just got even longer.

    He stood and craned his head towards the mountain, ��We��ll have to go upstream.��

    ��It��s fine,�� said Syra. ��That gives us more distance from camp.��

    ��But it also means we��ll have to stay the night. People might come looking for us. And we��ll lose time to warn Altaira.��

    ��Then let��s get going. That hand needs clean water. And even then, it��ll probably scar. Even with my help.��

    The bruised leaves she placed around his hand were already dry and flaking, and he would need proper salve if he were to regain normal sensation. This side of the mountain range was out of her comfort zone of expertise, so her eyes remained sharp and constantly searching the foliage throughout their hike.

    Seeing her stern focus, Aidan brushed his good thumb lightly across the small scar on her jaw, making her jolt.

    ��I��ll be alright, but thank you,�� he said with a soft chuckle.

    She leaned her cheek into her hand but worry still plagued her eyes, ��You can thank me when you can hold a sword properly. Until then, you��ll have to deal with smelling like tomato sauce.��

    The headwaters were crowned by a large waterfall-fed pool just outside the city, and the party took shelter in the cave behind the falls. Aidan took the first watch, but even with the calming rush of water, the faces of Valen and Marrak kept Syra far from sleep.

    She stared at the dimly lit floor of the cave, running a finger back and forth across the smooth stone. It was cold. Like the floor of the prison cell. She had been so relieved when Valen broke her out, but now regret stung worse than those shackles.

    I should''ve just stayed there. Taken my banishment and went home. The shards were safe where they were. There was no real reason to collect them, only Marrak''s plan.

    She bit into her cheek.

    The one I fell happily into. And now I''ve dragged everyone else into it.

    Her eyes hovered over the silhouette by the falls, the moonlight catching silvered strands that hung over tensed shoulders.

    He should be sparring with Remmel right now. Or hunched over his books and blueprints. Shit, even a department meeting would be better than here.

    She thumbed the band ringing her finger and clawed at its stone as her throat closed up.

    And Razira��she''d still have her papa if we didn''t show up. Leti wouldn''t have been arrested. And Tilly��

    Her wet sniffle made Aidan��s silhouette turn and, after a brief pause, give his leg a pat.

    ��Hey, com''ere. You need to sleep.��

    Syra crawled over to him, careful not to wake the twins, and placed her head on his thigh.

    ��That��s not happening,�� she whispered. ��Even with head-pats.��

    But he stroked her hair anyway and her breathing eventually slowed back down.

    ��I��m sorry,�� she said, hugging his leg.

    ��For what? Trusting in the man that raised you?�� The hiss in his voice stung the air and made her flinch. But, she could tell its venom was aimed internally and she flipped over to see his own cheeks shaded red.

    ��I��ve known Valen longer than you. If anyone were to notice something, you��d think it��d be me. But I didn��t. Me. The person born and sworn to protect my city. I spent years fortifying our borders, only to hold him in such high regard that I was blind to what was on the inside. And here I thought I was being extra careful.�� He grimaced and gave her shoulder a tight squeeze. ��He fooled us all, Syra. So, there��s no need in being so hard on yourself.��

    What he said was true. But, it didn��t settle the guilt rooted in her chest. She squirmed herself into his side and absently watched the floating leaves as they got carried off towards the ruins.

    Gurn used the shards to make an altar, and then proceeded to wipe out an entire city. Now that Marrak has the shards, it��s likely he��ll do the same. But this time, to Altaira.

    She imagined Altaira, with its towers and bridges and bazaars, all crumbled to rock and gravel. The streets overgrowing, and the bookshop sprouting trees that toppled the shelves and breached the skylight. All the work and stories of the people would be replaced by a simple, cautionary tale of a mad dragon and the foolish girl who helped him.

    ��We can��t let Marrak finish that altar,�� Syra said, sitting herself up. ��We can��t let Altaira turn into another Dorrak.��

    ��And we��re not going to. Marrak might have the stones, but he still needs the altar. If we can destroy the altar first����

    ��But we don��t even know where the altar is. Let alone how to destroy it.��

    ��Not exactly. There is one possibility.��

    ��What?�� Syra caught a twinkle in his eye.

    ��When you were working on the cure in Omei, I asked Sulaer to translate any accounts from Gurn��s attack.��

    ��Wait, that��s what you were talking about that whole time?

    ��Mostly. Well, that and the diagrams for their guardtowers. Heh, leave it to her to have them all labeled and categorized. She damn near talked my ear off.��

    ��I see. So, it really was her big books����

    ��Pardon?��

    ��N-nothing. What did she say?��

    ��Oh, right. She said that Gurn made the altar to make himself invincible, but that didn��t apply to the altar itself. When he attacked, the other mages realized that attacking him was pointless, so they sent their best mage to destroy the altar.��

    ��And it worked?��

    At this, his twinkle faded, ��It did. But, it had a cost.��

    ��What��kind of cost?��

    ��The altar, it functions sort of like a generator��with the energy from one shard being passed to the next, and the next, and so on, each turn increasing in power. Similar to how the transpoints are powered. But this time, the central node is a living being.��

    ��And so all that power is transferred to them?��

    ��Exactly. And as you can imagine, that amount of energy is incredibly hard to disperse. Nearly impossible, even.��

    ��Nearly?��

    Aidan nodded with a grim look, ��I��m sure you��re aware that one of the key principles in alchemical engineering is equivalent force; you always get out what you put in, even if the forms are different. The altar is no different. To diffuse��to break a current that strong requires an energy force equally as strong.�� His hand rose absently to his chest, ��And we only know of one such source.��

    Syra stared at his hand, at how it gently clawed at his sternum, and she was instantly back in Omei being cooed to sleep with the radiant prism warm in her hands.

    ��You��you can��t be serious.��

    ��I am.��

    ��A soulstone? Aidan, that��s����

    ��I know. I know, it��s a horrendous cost. But, it worked.��

    Syra watched in silence as his fingers fidgeted with the ring on its chain. He had that far-off look again.

    No��he can��t really be thinking about��

    ��Don��t you fucking dare.�� She shot up and gripped the hem of his shirt, glaring at him.

    ��Syra����

    ��No, absolutely not.��

    ��What choice do we have?��

    ��Don��t even start with that ��choice�� bullshit.��

    ��Syra���� He sighed and looked away, ��I made a promise. I made a promise to Ethan��and to myself. A promise to do whatever I could to protect my people.��

    ��And you still can.�� She cupped his face and turned his eyes to hers. ��Yes, they need you now, but they��ll also need you in the future. Like Piper, and Blyth. And didn��t you also promise Stahdler you��d tell your father about the glacier? You won��t be able to help them if you sacrifice yourself now.��

    ��And there��ll be no point for any of it if he makes the altar.��

    ��But����

    ��You know I��m right. And I know you know I��m right. So, just���� he grabbed her hand tight, ��let me do this. Let me avenge Ethan by fulfilling the promise I made to him.��

    Syra only smiled at the absurdity, ��No. I��m sorry. I want to support you and your promises, I do, but��I cannot just let you give your life away.��

    ��My life,�� he moaned a laugh, ��Syra, I have spent my whole life focused��obsessed��with protecting Altaira; my home. My family. Truly, what good would that life then be if I ran away now?��

    ��Finding another way is not running away!��

    They both froze as rustling came from the cave, but relaxed when the snoring continued.

    ��And what about us, then?�� she whimpered. ��I thought��I thought you wanted me to stay.��

    ��What?��

    His confused look sent cold fear gripping her chest.

    Did��did he really forget? Did the wine really take his memory?

    Tears blurred her vision as she pleaded up at him, ��In Falorn, at the festival, you��you said you were happy being with me. You said you wanted me to stay��to come back home with you.��

    He hesitated, allowing the mist in his mind to waft away. Syra��s eyes clung on, seeing the pained expression on his face.

    And then, some color returned to his cheeks along with a small grin.

    ��I did say that, didn��t I? Heh, I must��ve been pretty looney to say it like that.��

    ��Then was it��was it just the moon talking?��

    He shook his head and cupped her face in his hand, ��No. No, I do want that. Truly and completely. But��I also want to honor my word, and protect the people I love.�� He leaned over and rested his forehead against hers, ��I want to protect the person I love.��

    She flinched back in shock��albeit a happy shock��but no words came to her rescue this time. She could only study his face, where his eyes shone as firm and as clear as when he proposed. His brow wore the same faint lines��the only sign of his internal pleading��and her hands shook just as madly.

    Silent tears spilled over and she dropped her head, clasping onto his hand. All tension left Aidan��s shoulders and he plastered a hard kiss to her forehead.

    ��Thank you for understanding.��

    But she remained silent, soaking in the sensation of his warmth against her.

    So, this is how it goes, huh?

    She raised her face to his and took his cheeks into both hands, pulling him down until his lips were pressed tight against hers. His scent flooded her head and she felt him relax and lean in. And then her fingertips touched his temples. And the fog rushed in.

    I��m sorry, but I��m way too selfish for that.

    Aidan��s eyes shot open and he reared back, but her hands were firmly planted.

    ��No, wait��you can��t���� His head lolled but his eyes still flickered open as he fell into Syra��s arms. ��Please��don��t���� And then he was out.

    Syra laid him down and brushed the hair from his face, letting her fingers linger a moment, ��I��m sorry, Aidan, but I��m taking this promise from you. And if that makes me a monster to you��then, that��s the kind of monster I will be.��

    She tip-toed out of the cave, giving them all one last look.

    I guess some things never change, do they?

    Hopping over to the stream, she turned her gaze to the mountain and the ruins of Dorgan��s Keep scarring its face.

    ��It would have to be somewhere isolated. And big. And probably near a mana pool given the power he''ll need,�� she recalled what she said in Falorn.

    And I can only think of one place.

 |Chapter 37| Kesh Raza

    <hr>

    Despite the southern latitude, the mountain air chilled the sweat on her skin and she paused to rest outside the yawning mouth of the ��Great Hall��. No longer did the Elder Guardians stand watch from their carved thrones, for the towering stone doors were the first to fall. Now, only the shattered scar above the columned entrance shone, glinting in the moonlight like the central gem on a stolen crown. And she stood, panting and immobilized by both fear and awe, on the ledge between that haggard mouth and the ghostly ruins below. As if the monstrous cave had breathed death upon the city, withering it instantly and tainting it with a curse not even a century could lift. Even the buildings looked like unearthed skeletons in the moonlight.

    She shook herself from the scene and approached the cave, steeling herself for what might lie inside.

    I know Marrak didn��t follow us through the transpoint, but who knows what other tricks he has.

    But the inside of the hall surprised her. Where the light could reach, plants grew and bloomed like trimmed hedges. The cracks in the walls and columns were sealed with gold, and the floor had even been swept. She gave an internal nod of approval, but abruptly stopped as her eyes landed on a strip of sketchings on the far wall.

    It can��t��

    The moonlight barely reached the stretch of stone near the floor, but the shapes were clear. Scribbled in fading charcoal, the images of two wyrmlings��one black, the other white��chased, flew, and performed magic together.

    It is��it��s the same. These��these are the drawings from Mother��s memories.

    Her fingers traced her mother��s image, but as they grazed the sooty marking a spark shot her hand away.

    A protection spell? She chuckled. Marrak, you sentimental little shit. You��re here all right. And I bet the altar is, too.

    But as she stood, her gaze lingered over the collage of playing wyrmlings and scoffed to herself.

    You really think mother would approve of all this? Some best friend you are.

    She flinched as the image of Nelly''s confused and worried face flashed in her mind, and she bit into her cheek.

    Not that I''m much better.

    She left the drawings alone and proceeded into the main hallway. It branched to the left and right, with a grand staircase leading down to the crystal-lit gathering hall below and even more rooms branching further still.

    It��s so big! The altar could be anywhere.

    She sharpened her eyes against the darkness to see rows of doors down both hallways, but the air from the right smelled��warmer, with the faint trace of leaf and parchment.

    Right it is, then.

    Some of the walls were crumbled, but the debris had been mostly cleared and she explored any room that remained accessible. The scent grew stronger with another left turn and brought her to a room with a freshly-cleaned door lined with pale light.

    She froze.

    Shit. Is he here already?

    She held her breath, staring at the white light filtering through the cracks around the door.

    Doesn��t matter if he is. I��m going.

    She clenched her teeth and charged a hand, throwing the door open.

    She charged inside, but was only greeted by a room furnished with a simple bed and study. The scent was identical, and filled her head with memories of blanket-wrapped winters, burnt fingers and poorly woven glass, and gentle hands guiding hers to braid black strands of hair. Her chest tightened and her legs buckled.

    Damn it!

    She clawed at the door frame and chomped down on her hand to keep the scream inside.

    Damn you! Why��d you have to do this?

    Her wisp of a wail echoed off the walls, as if the stones themselves weeped.

    We were��I thought we were��but no, we weren��t actually��

    She heaved herself up and shuffled to the bed. There, she imagined a snoozing Valen, dark strands loose on his pillow and eyes ringed from either a long meeting or a night filled with her questioning. If his cheeks were full, it was always the latter.

    She knelt down and pulled the quilt to her nose. This sob was not quiet, and she threw herself across the bed, clutching the bedding against her mouth as her chest heaved.

    Damn it, damn it, damn it! If you were as happy as you said, then why did you do this? Why did you go and mess it all up? We could��ve worked together! No Kesh Raza. No Black Thorn. No war. Just us, and Aidan. Even Nelly and the others would have helped! Shit, the whole Academy could��ve helped��could��ve gone back to their hometowns and asked what needed fixing. We could��ve��

    She choked back a sob and wiped her face dry until her breath steadied.

    We could��ve found another way.

    As she rose back to her feet, the thudding of footsteps made her freeze.

    Shit, is that him? No��no there��s more than one. Did he bring soldiers with him?

    She charged her hand again and aimed her ear towards the grumbling in the hallway.

    ��For Draco-sake, watch where you��re going!��

    The hushed curses loosed her breath, but her head still hung.

    ��You��re supposed to be asleep!�� she called.

    ��Syra? Syra, where are you?�� Cassius and Aidan called back.

    ��Down this way. Take a right, then left.��

    She met the flurry of footsteps with pained annoyance as they swarmed in on her. Petra was first in line, but Cassius charged past her.

    ��What the fuck was that?�� he asked, jabbing a finger into the darkness. ��You just up and left? Again? I told you never to do that to us��to me��ever again!�� He grabbed her shoulders and bore down on her, ��Lord, what were you thinking?��

    Syra only glanced over to Aidan, ��I had my reasons. Good reasons.��

    ��Are you shitting me right now?�� His eyes burned as bright as his flame and she couldn��t look at him straight. ��Look at me, Syra! Why on Erd would you think going after the altar on your own would ever be a ��good reason��?��

    ��Because it��s my fault���� she whimpered under breath.

    ��Excuse me, what?��

    ��I said, it��s my fault! She ripped herself away, "It''s my fault, so let me fix it, damn it!��

    His mouth wagged. He knew his sister to be a bit self-blaming, but this was ridiculous.

    ��How is this in any way your fault? You didn��t ask Valen to betray us, did you? Or conspire alongside him to build his altar?��

    ��No, but����

    ��She did give Valen the shards tho����

    ��Shut it or suck it, Petra.�� He glared over his shoulder and she snapped her mouth shut in surprise at his sudden harsh tone.

    ��Look. You have done nothing but try your best on a mission that was given to you��to us! This is in no way your f����

    ��But I left the clan. I agreed to the whole thing. I believed him and dragged all of you into this!��

    Petra snorted, ��You didn��t drag me anywhere.��

    ��She��s right,�� said Aidan. ��We all made our own choice.��

    ��Granted, I didn��t trust him to begin with,�� Petra added.

    ��Still not helping.��

    ��Did Aidan even tell you how he plans on fixing it?�� She stared at Aidan in both apology and resolve. ��What it costs to destroy the altar?��

    The twins looked at Aidan and his shoulders drooped.

    ��Tell them, Aidan. So I can make my point.��

    Aidan begrudgingly explained the workings of the altar and the need for a soulstone in order to destroy it. To which neither twin accepted well.

    ��You have to do what?�� Petra asked.

    ��But��that��ll kill you.��

    ��Exactly,�� said Syra, eyes fixed on the floor.

    Cassius looked between her and Aidan and his eyes went wide, ��Is that why you left on your own? You put Aidan to sleep so you could destroy the altar instead of him?��

    She nodded and Cassius flailed his arms.

    ��Oh, no. Not happening! None��and I mean it, none of us are doing that. We��ll just have to find another way.��

    ��There is no other way,�� said Aidan. ��Even the Tal haven��t been able to figure one out.��

    ��And who told you this, huh? Sulaer?��

    ��Cas, don��t.��

    Aidan raised a brow, ��Yes, but why does that matter?��

    ��I thought she was devoted to finding the cure for the disease.��

    ��She��s an archmage, Cas; she��s involved in a lot of things.��

    ��Including cuddling up to the human prince?��

    ��Cuddling up? Cas, that is not what we��she��s engaged to Wyn for Erd��s sake. Where is this even coming from?��

    ��Cas, I said stop.�� Syra buried her face into his chest, pushing him back. ��It��s fine now. It doesn��t matter anymore.��

    ��Oh, yes it does. I thought I could forget about it, but you were ready to give your life for his, so I want to know what was so important that he��d leave you alone for weeks, yet spend that time book clubbing with a stranger.��

    ��I just told you, she��s engage����

    ��But does that really matter? We both know engagement means shit to you.��

    Smack!

    The slap across Cassius�� cheek echoed down the stoney halls, leaving them all in stunned silence and Syra red-faced.

    ��I-I��m sorry, I���� she patted his offended cheek, but he pulled away, debating between rage and confusion. ��It��s not his fault, Cas, it��s mine. I misunderstood. I jumped to conclusions. She was only helping him��helping us.��

    ��Damn it, I know that.�� Cassius mumbled and massaged his cheek.

    ��Then why are you����

    ��Because you were heartbroken before we even got to Omei. Sulaer just made it worse. Way worse.��

    ��It wasn��t that ba����

    ��You cut your own stone out!��

    ��You did what?�� gasped Aidan and Petra.

    But she waved them off, ��I was being stupid.��

    Aidan stepped towards her, ��But you could��ve����

    ��I know! Fuck, I know. Like I said, I was being stupid. Angry, jealous, and stupid.��

    ��Syra���� Aidan��s eyes clung to her distant face as he reached out, ��Shit, I��m sorry. I didn��t mean to����

    ��It��s alright,�� she lowered his hands, ��I get it now. But, that brings me back to the point I was originally trying to make.��

    She looked dead into her sibling��s eyes, ��The only way to destroy the altar is to use a soulstone. And I��m the only one who can access theirs. So, the answer is crystal clear.��

    ��Would you just shut up already?�� Petra snapped with a surprising whimper. ��You��re not funny!�� Her face was red, but not with anger��with stubborn tears that fought a clenching jaw. ��None of you are making any sense! None of this makes any sense!��

    ��Oh, Petra���� Syra reached for her sister, but was quickly shooed away.

    ��No! I��m sick of your sweetass hero talk. I��m Vayguard, and I��m saying we go to Heartwood and ask Alder for another way.��

    ��But I thought you said����

    ��Vernyll can lick my vent if he thinks he can hold this over me. Plus, it was Alder who gave Father that stupid stone in the first place. He owes us an explanation.��

    ��Alder did?�� Syra paused, recalling that night she first took the stone from Papa.

    ��Alder said it''s enchanted and that Marrak will try his best to get it.��

    ��Oh right��he did mention Alder didn��t he? You said it was north of here?��

    But Aidan took her hand and shook his head, ��Heartwood is days from here. We don��t have time. Unless you can think of someone else who might know something about����

    Aidan stopped as his eyes followed Syra��s gaze to the mirror on the other side of the room. ��Wait. You think she��d know?��

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ��Wouldn��t be surprised.��

    ��Who would know?�� asked Petra.

    ��Baba,�� the couple said together.

    ��Oh, right. But she��s all the way in Renguard.��

    ��You got a bridgespell for that?�� asked Cassius.

    ��No.�� She stared at the mirror with its glowing white growprism, zeroing in on the flowerbud growing atop its framing. ��But I think we could set-up a meeting.��

    She and Aidan approached the mirror, both scanning the flowerbud with sharp eyes.

    ��You think it''s dead?�� Aidan asked.

    ��No,�� Syra said, feeling the drooping leaves with careful fingers. ��Dehydrated maybe, but that doesn''t matter if its conduit''s dead. Even then, we''d need Marrak to activate it.��

    ��Not necessarily,�� Aidan said, grabbing her full attention. ��Whenever father ran late for a meeting, he''d give me his ring to get things started. Maybe it just needs to sense its owner. Like how morakii are imprinted.��

    ��That''s a great idea,�� said Petra, ��but I don''t smell a shitpit anywhere and I very much doubt Marrak''s into human jewelry.��

    Syra stiffened, ��No, but Valen was.��

    She grabbed the hoop from her ear and held it to the withering bud. With a twitch, light flickered until the bud glowed a pale red and unfurled, sending rays of light pulsing down the threads around the mirror. .

    ��Well, look at that��it actually worked!�� Petra beamed in surprise.

    But Cassius remained cautious, ��That��s great, but are you sure it��s Baba we��re contacting?��

    ��Who else could it be?�� asked Petra.

    ��Whoever answered last,�� said Aidan.

    Static flashed from the mirror followed by garbled cursing.

    ��Hello? Who''s that? I can barely see you,�� said the voice from across the mirror.

    ��Baba?�� Syra spoke into the flickering image.

    ��Yes, who''s asking? Vesna, is that you? I told you, Leon didn��t learn that from me.��

    The image cleared to reveal an upside-down Baba.

    ��Why is she upside-down?�� asked Cassius.

    ��I don��t know. Baba��Baba, you''re upside-down.��

    ��Oh, Syra dear, it��s you!��

    ��Yes, Baba but you''re����

    ��Oh my, what a surprise! Hold on, old Spidey got herself turned around again.�� Her thumbprint filled the mirror and slowly the image righted itself. ��There, is that better?��

    ��Yes, thank����

    ��I can''t see you very well, though��it''s quite dark.��

    ��Yes, we��re in a cave at the moment and need your help with something.��

    ��Oh, then why didn''t you say so? What do you need? And��where are you?��

    Syra became eerily still, and her voice rumbled upon answering, ��We''re in Dorgan��s Keep.��

    All cheer left and took the color from Baba��s cheeks.

    ��So tell me, Baba��why are you answering Marrak��s mirror?��

    Baba��s gaze dropped but no words came out. So, Syra pried some more.

    ��Answer me, Baba. Has Marrak been contacting you?��

    ��No,�� Baba shook her head but did not meet Syra��s eyes. ��Not recently.��

    Syra raised a brow, ��Not recently?��

    ��Well, he and your mother used to play there. So, of course I would check on them from time to time and����

    ��Ugh, enough with the wordplay!�� Syra rolled her eyes. ��Has Valen been contacting you? From here? As in, did you know?��

    ��Know what, dear?�� She had that damn smile again. The one that obviously hid something.

    Syra��s lip pulled back in a faint snarl, ��Did you know that Valen was actually Marrak in disguise?��

    With that, Baba let her mask slip off and offered a solemn nod, ��Yes. I warned him not to, but����

    ��You actually knew?�� The breath left Syra lungs as if gut-punched by a frosthand, ��This whole fucking time?��

    ��Syra����

    ��You knew and you just let us follow his orders like good little soldiers? Just...following right along��yes sir, no sir, what next, sir�� she raised her earring with shaking fingers, "thank you, sir!", and threw it into the blackness where even the clink of its fall was lost.

    ��Why?�� She forced a slow breath and reached absently for the phantom pearl at her chest. ��He stole Mother''s essence, Baba. Ripped it from her tree and sealed it in one of those damn stones. I didn''t even know he could perform animancy.��

    ��He can''t.��

    The flatness in Baba��s voice startled her, ��B-but, I saw it! I saw her. Mother''s essence was stored in the last shard and����

    ��He didn''t seal her, Syra, because I did.��

    Syra froze, ��What?��

    Baba could only sigh as remorse filled her voice, ��You three weren''t the only ones left behind when she died, you know. She was my student, and my friend. I��ve lived a long time and she...she was the closest thing I ever had to a daughter, so����

    ��But she was our mother! Our actual mother! You can''t just steal her away!��

    At this, the cold age shone in Baba��s eyes, ��I''m an animancer, Syra. I''ve woven more lives than years you have lived. Do you honestly think I''d let her go so easily?��

    ��You had no right.��

    ��You''re right, I didn''t. But we were grieving, Syra. Even your father took to that pearl like a suckling babe.��

    ��Don''t you dare bring Papa into this! He''s not your excuse. How could you even think����

    ��And were you thinking clearly when Rigel died and you up and left home for years without any notice? Did you even stop to think how that might affect them?��

    Baba pointed at the twins, but they had nothing but glares for her.

    ��You��re right,�� Syra said, glancing at Cassius, ��I didn��t think. But I was a child. I had a mission! A mission, by the way, that you started.��

    ��Oh, I didn''t start it, dearie. It��s been a long time coming.��

    ��Well, it''s ending with Marrak on a warpath. And you''re damn well going to help fix it.��

    But Baba shook her head, ��Not much I can do now��the pieces are already moving. Plus,�� her fingers grazed her forehead as her gaze seemed to watch elsewhere, ��wars come and go, Syra. Whether you want it or not. Whether you fight it or not. Tides come in, and storms break. Each time reveals our worst, but also forces us forward��like the butterfly that must escape the prison of its own making. You''re too young to see it now, but sometimes it''s actually for the be����

    ��Bashta!�� This time the curse came from Cassius as he shoved his face into the mirror. ��So, you��re just going to let it happen? Just going to let people die, and plead, and mourn? All for what? The possibility of progress? Or some twisted sense of validation?��

    Baba said nothing.

    ��And what about those children? Rain, Piper, Willow, and the others? You can��t possibly think this won��t affect them, too.��

    ��Oh, it will,�� she snapped. ��It always does. That��s why I��m training them to take care of themselves.��

    ��Surviving and living are two different things, Baba. You must know that by now. So, why are you condemning them to struggle when you can do something to fix it now? Do you truly think this will make them stronger?��

    Baba paused and acknowledged his point, her mind chewing on the situation.

    ��You said you warned him,�� Cassius said in a calmer tone. ��Back in Edgewood, you said that ��gold light casts long shadows��, so you must know his plan isn��t the best route. Even if you��re not fighting beside him, you can��t just sit back and watch. There is no neutral party here. And, honestly Baba, do you really think Mother would agree to this?��

    Baba��s eyes flashed and they all steeled themselves for a whiplashing. But the spark flickered out and their blue faded to a mournful gray. She remained silent for quite a while, staring off into nothing, until Petra��s fidgeting brought her back.

    ��No,�� Baba said finally. ��No, she wouldn��t have.��

    The group released their breath and Cassius beseeched the woman in the mirror with a humble grin.

    ��I��m not asking you to fight him. But we need to know how to stop him��how to destroy the altar before he finishes it.��

    ��And how to change us back,�� Petra chimed in.

    ��Yes, and that, too.��

    Baba sighed and massaged her temples, ��So, you��re saying he already has all the shards?��

    ��Yes,�� said Syra, weakly. ��He took them.��

    ��Damn,�� the cursed escaped her lips, ��I really didn��t think he��d go that far. Alright, fine. But we��ll have to work quickly.�� She squinted into the mirror and pointed to the row of books on the small bookshelf by the bed. ��The form-binding spells should be in the green-and-gold one over there��the one with the braided vines. Should be around page 131, if I recall correctly.��

    ����Page 131��?�� Syra snickered and pulled the book from the shelf. ��You certainly know your textbooks.��

    ��As I should,�� an air of pride graced her voice, ��I wrote it.��

    ��What? Seriously?�� Syra ran her fingers across the name that graced an entire section of the Academy��s library. ��Nimbaba Nimbimbillow��wait! As in Nimbaba?��

    She looked back at the mirror to see Baba chuckling to herself.

    ��I am many things, remember? But that was a lifetime ago, so I��d appreciate the discretion.��

    Syra leafed through the pages, but its contents were brand new to her and its cover unfamiliar, ��Wait��this book, I never saw this one in the library before.��

    ��Of course, you wouldn��t.�� Baba''s bright tone flattened. ��It��s like I said, watered-down. It''s easy to control tool-use, but true magic like this comes from within. The Council didn��t like that, or the idea of mages turning people into��well, not people. So, they excluded my��more advanced workings. Anyway!�� She waved the topic away, ��Did you find the spell? The backweave is described right behind it.��

    ��Umm��yes! Yes, it��s right here!�� Her smile dropped as she analyzed the slew of strokes and busy notation, ��Oh my. That��s a lot more involved than I imagined.�� She gave Petra an embarrassed grin, ��I��m kind of glad I didn��t try this on you��you might have ended up an actual lizard.��

    ��Let me see.�� Petra tugged the book over and quickly scrunched her face, ��Ew. You can read all that?��

    ��Yes, but I��ll need some time to understand all the details.��

    ��We can go look for the altar while you work it out.�� Aidan gave Baba a stern look, ��I��m assuming you��re going to help her, correct? Laby Nimbaba?��

    Baba sneered, ��Don��t call me that. And yes, of course.��

    She shooed them away, but Syra grabbed Cassius�� leg.

    ��Wait, Cas! As you look, see if you can sense anything. The altar needs a strong power source, so you should be able to pick up some kind of manaflow the closer you get to it.��

    ��Got it. We��ll come right back if we find anything.��

    With the room quiet, Syra turned her attention to the scribbles on the pages in front of her.

    This isn��t just a regular shapechange spell. She traced the border of runes circling the thumbprint icon. Their spelltages did look like this, but�� Her nail scratched at the two additional rune-circles that tied into the border like extra knots.

    ��Hey, Baba? These extra loops����support�� and ��bind����are they a type of specification?��

    ��Yes. One supports the spell itself, the other limits what the subject can do after the change.��

    ��But Valen��s didn��t have these specifications.��

    ��Oh, I very much doubt that. Transforming such a large and powerful subject would require a great level of regulation. The notation is most likely wound within the initial instructions since these sections aren��t technically expressed.��

    ����Aren��t technically expressed��? What does that even mean? Isn��t the entire spell expressed if it��s activated? Why even include it then?��

    ��I told you: regulation. For instance, neither Petra nor Cassius can shift back. Yet, you can because you likely don��t include any limitations in your spell. You also have complete access to your magic and have even retained some of your senses,�� she tapped her nose, ��all because the spell��s bindings are very minimal. The opposite can also be true, where magic and even memory can be completely sealed away. Though, those are almost always the most complicated with enough knots to make you dizzy.��

    ��I��m already dizzy,�� Syra moaned and set the book down to massage her forehead.

    Baba chuckled at the young mage, ��Are you really complaining? And here I thought you wanted to improve your magic.��

    ��I do. But not under this kind of pressure.��

    ��But that��s what makes one great, Syra. Be it from the outside, or from yourself, the pressure to be better is what drives you forward. That��s what kept your mother going��her promise to herself to be better every day. Even if just a little bit. Even if she failed, it was still one more try.��

    One more try, huh? Was it that one last try that got her killed? On that lonely island far from home, what was she even trying to do?

    ��About Mother��just how well did you actually know her?��

    ��Like I said, she was like a daughter to me.��

    Syra scoffed, ��That doesn��t mean much. Valen was like a father to me, and look what happened.��

    Baba sighed with downcast eyes, ��Both your mother and Marrak are��well, they��re a bit complicated. Their relationship even more so.��

    ��But they were friends, right? That��s what Mother showed me.��

    ��Yes, they were extremely close��like siblings, despite being of different clans. Too close, as it turned out.��

    ��What do you mean, ��too close��?��

    Baba pointed to her ring finger, ��You know exactly what I mean.��

    Syra faltered, ��What? No��no she couldn��t. She and Papa����

    ��This was before Rigel. And you��re right, she couldn��t. Clan blood just isn��t compatible, and that��s what broke her. It broke both of them.�� Sorrow and awe mingled on her face. ��Marrak gave up his position as Vayguard to be with her��was even labeled as a traitor by his clan. But in the end, she cut their bond and chose your father. And even then, after she died, he was in a constant state of either disinterest or dissatisfaction. That is, until you showed up.��

    ��Me?��

    ��Oh, yes. He had always complained about how poorly run the kingdom was. And he tried to help, he did. But, when he told me that he��d found you, and that you were to be his ward and apprentice��I don��t know, he just lit up. Like something had snapped in him. He took his work and the state of things to heart. Threw his entire self into making this world just a little better. Much of that being for you, if I had to guess. So, I suppose in his own way, he really did see you as a daughter.��

    ��Take care of her.�� Her mother��s voice brought the memory of the ravine, and the river, and that lonely island. ��Please, there��s no one else��you have to watch over her��there��s no one else to teach her.��

    He did, Mother. He taught me well, but��

    ��But that still doesn��t excuse him from lying to me this whole time. Or what he��s doing now.�� Syra threw her head back and stared at the crystals glittering like stars on the stoney ceiling. Like the ones in her old den. The ones she would stare at with Papa. ��Or what he did.��

    ��No, I suppose not.�� Baba hung her head and watched those familiar green eyes glisten over. ��But at least you know his reason. And that can be closure enough.��

    Syra gave her head a hard shake and picked the book back up, refocusing, ��Doesn''t matter. I can��t change any of that now. So, could you please explain what this curly squiggle means?��

    A few hours later, Petra returned in a huff.

    ��Did you find it?�� asked Syra.

    ��No, but we certainly found something.��

    ��Alright, let��s go. Baba����

    ��I know. I��ll let Razilah and Vesna know to get prepared.��

    ��Good. Oh! And, if you can manage to contact him, please let King Rogan know about the attack? They��ll be using the MainWay transpoint and can be surrounded if caught early.��

    Baba nodded with a small grin, ��I will give it a try.��

    ��Thank you, Baba.��

    Petra led Syra down into the depths of the keep where the hallways became indistinguishable from mining shafts. As they neared a glowing chamber, the air became thick with mana and the crystals shone brighter along the walls.

    ��We��re definitely getting closer,�� said Syra.

    ��Just wait until you see what��s inside.��

    Petra brought her inside the chamber where the boys stood in front of a blooming tri-colored crystal that pulsed and hummed, buzzing the air around it. It looked to be growing from beneath the floor, and its five faceted spears nearly filled the room.

    ��It��s a kesh raza!�� Syra said, running up to it.

    ��Wait, be careful!�� Cas warned as she neared the crystal. ��Even my skin is burning being around this thing.��

    She stopped and raised her hands towards the prism. The heat tingled her skin, even from this distance. Like the giant bonfire in the plaza where the air itself would scorch skin that got too close.

    ��I��ll be alright��-I won��t touch it.��

    In the light of the stone, she saw thin lines of gold and silver webbing out from around its base and runes carved into the stone floor. Upon closer inspection, she even made out the tiny gaps where shards had been chiseled out.

    ��This must be what Gurn used to power the altar. But then, where is the altar? It��d have to be close by to draw power in, right?��

    ��Shit, the lines!�� said Aidan.

    ��What?��

    ��The metal lines��they��re conduits.�� Aidan followed the trail of metal inlays back into the hallway. ��They go all the way back to the surface! We must��ve missed the altar somewhere.��

    ��Could it be hidden somewhere?�� asked Cassius. ��Like the secret door in Falorn?��

    ��Does it matter?�� Petra asked, making them all stop in bewilderment. ��If we can break these lines, then the altar will have no power to start up, right?��

    She grabbed a heavy stone and raised it to slam into the floor, but Aidan rushed her.

    ��Wait, stop!��

    She stumbled forward, dropping the stone. As it hit the golden line, it sparked and smoked and popped until it flew across the room in pieces.

    ��What the fuck was that?�� Petra pointed at the scattered gravel.

    Aidan knelt with a tempered hand held over the line. It was warm and buzzed just like the kesh raza.

    ��It��s live. The altar��s already been activated.�� He gave a forlorn look to Syra, ��We can��t destroy it this way.��

    ��But how? He only had one shard to begin with, right?��

    ��That��s probably all he needed to get the current going. The others are just��amplifiers.��

    ��Well��then let��s just smash the whole damn thing and be done with it,�� Petra said.

    ��Did you not just see what happened to that stone?�� asked Cassius. ��I doubt even Syra could handle that much mana all at once.��

    ��He��s right, I can feel it. I��d burn right out.��

    ��Maybe in your human form, you would. Did you ever think that the reason you burn up is because that human body can��t handle it?��

    ��No, but����

    ��Have you even tried weaving as a dragon?��

    ��She was in hiding, Petra,�� Aidan said. ��She couldn��t����

    ��Yes, I have.��

    Aidan faltered in shock, ��When?��

    ��Out west, during the war.��

    ��But I was with you the whole time.��

    ��No, not the whole time.�� She tapped her temple, ��Not when you were sleeping at least.��

    ��Wait, did you���� he recalled being trapped in the Vayguard��s lair but then strangely blacking out. The whole squad had thought it dragon trickery, but now��

    He gawked at Syra, ��That was you? In the lair, you knocked us out?��

    ��Erdenir refused to speak to any human, but I couldn��t have you see me either. It was the best option at the time.��

    ��We were helpless! We could��ve been killed!��

    ��But you weren��t. I made sure of that.��

    ��Seriously, Syra? Were you ever going to tell me that, either? I can��t believe you��d���� He stilled himself with a huff and pointed a stern finger, ��We��re going to seriously discuss our honesty policy later.��

    Syra just gave him a big grin, ��If it keeps you alive, I��ll take whatever earlashing you have.��

    Aidan rolled his eyes but smiled as well, ��Smartass.��

    ��Alright,�� Petra said with a clap, ��so how are we going to break the altar again?��

    ��We follow these lines. They should lead straight to the����

    A sudden rumbling shook the halls and sent them to the ground. Behind them, the kesh raza pulsed and light flowed out and down through the metal lines, weaving their way up the hallway.

    ��What��s going on?�� asked Petra, gripping the wall to stand.

    Syra��s eyes widened as she took in the scene before her, ��He��s here.��

 |Chapter 38| Crown of Stones (Pt. 1)

    <hr>

    ��Bashta. Already?�� Petra joined Aidan in the stairway, straining her eyes to catch a glimpse of anything.

    ��He probably used the transpoint like we did. Meaning the rest of his army is here, too.��

    ��But where��s here?�� asked Petra. ��Where is the altar? We��ve already scoured this place over and didn��t find shi����

    Another wave of quaking jarred rocks from the ceiling, forcing them to shelter in the arched staircase.

    When the rumbling stopped, Aidan turned to see most of the ceiling tiles shattered below them. ��That��s the second quake now. I doubt this place will take many more.��

    ��What is he even doing up there?�� asked Petra.

    Syra watched the bands of light surge through the metal veins in the walls, like the flickering of spidersilk.

    The pulsing of light brings the rumbling��

    ��The shards,�� said Syra, recalling the quake and aurora during the festival. ��This happened before, when he placed the first shard. He must be adding the others to the altar.��

    ��So, that��s what, three now?�� Petra scrambled to her feet and up the stairs.

    ��Wait,�� Cassius grabbed her ankle. ��You can��t just go barging in. We have no weapons, and no idea how to destroy it, especially now that Marrak��s here.��

    ��Well, we certainly can��t let him add the rest of them, now can we?��

    She tugged her leg but he held firm, ��We need a plan.��

    ��Break his face. Take the shards. That sounds like a plan.��

    ��He has magic. He��ll throw up a barrier before you even get to him. How do you����

    ��I don��t know yet.�� She yanked his hand away and dug something out of her pocket. ��Hey Syra,�� she tossed the gold hoop to her sister, ��you have five floors to think of how to use this thing against him.��

    ***

    The humming grew louder the higher they ascended, and Syra��s hands burned by the time they reached the gathering hall.

    ��Is it finished?�� Petra asked when Syra stopped and released her hand.

    ��Almost. Now I need to concentrate.��

    Her shimmering fingers pinched and pulled at the glowing glob of molten gold hovering between her hands. She worked surprisingly fast for one ��unskilled in flameweaving����rolling, flipping, and shaping the small wad into a rudimentary, but recognizable form. As its white heat dimmed, she drew out the thin legs of the thumbprint-sized spider.

    "Now is it done?"

    "No. So hush."

    She flipped it belly-up. Forcing a slow and controlled breath, she extended a needle-thin barb of mana from her fingertip, carving tiny runes into its abdomen. With the last line completed, the runes glowed and her hands shook as she clamped them around the charm.

    ��You alright?�� Aidan leaned in at her pained expression, but she drew away.

    ��I��m fine.�� She gritted through her teeth as she forced as much mana into the charm as its gold could hold. ��But this won��t last long��not against his squirming.��

    The light finally faded and her body sagged. Her hands opened to reveal the golden spider solidified in her palm, the central rune for ��Bind�� pulsing faintly on its belly.

    ��I charged it as much as I could, but we��ll have to be very quick once it''s on.�� She looked up at the twins, ��You sure you can handle it?��

    Petra snickered, ��Handle it? I look forward to it.��

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ��Alright then,�� Syra gripped the charm and stared up the grand staircase at the aurora flickering from the entry hall, ��here we go. Aidan?��

    ��On it.�� He padded up the grand staircase until he reached the roots poking through the walls. Gripping them, he scouted the hall and the man gleaming under an archway of braided light. Woven within these strands, four shards shone like stars from the main arch of the entry hall. A fifth shimmered in his hand as he stood, unbothered, sketching runes into the crystal.

    ��Damn it,�� he hushed, turning to Syra with a pale face, ��he��s about to place the last shard.��

    ��So, how do we get in without him noticing?��

    ��I already have!�� Marrak��s voice echoed from the entry hall.

    She froze.

    Shit. Come on, think! There has to be something around here.

    Her eyes zipped around the walls of stone and metal and��

    ��Come,�� he continued, ��It��s not safe down there. The walls won��t hold after th��.��

    Crack!

    Marrak flew back as a violet bolt shot from a nearby root and struck him in the side.

    ��Go!�� Syra commanded the twins, peeling her and Aidan��s hands from the root in the wall before dashing after them.

    Petra and Cassius leapt up the stairs and rushed the fallen man. But the hall was large and his senses quick to return.

    ��So, this is how you want it, then?�� He called, throwing up a red wall quicker than the twins could dodge. Their clothes and skin sizzled upon impact and they flew backward, tumbling across the broken floor.

    ��Cas! Petra!�� Syra rushed to them but they waved her away.

    ��We��re fine.��

    ��Keep going.��

    ��Syra!�� Marrak called, clutching his side.

    She met her old mentor��s gaze with a glare as he rose from the floor. Her chest burned and she bit back the flickering image of Morin.

    ��Syra, please,�� He stepped forward, but she raised her hand and he halted. ��I thought you of all people would listen.��

    ��I did listen! I just don��t agree with you. With any of this!�� She jabbed a finger at the glittering arch above, ��This is not the answer!" Her eyes faded for a moment and her voice weakened, ��You weren��t there. You didn��t see it��smell it. The fires��the bodies��the houses like gravestones. And yet, you want to bring that here? To burn their homes until they ��see the light�� and finally agree with you?��

    There was a sad seriousness to his voice this time, ��If it makes them see those who have no home to burn, then yes.��

    Her chest tightened as Piper and Willow''s face flashed in her mind.

    "I understand that," she said softer. "I want to fix things, too. But, I refuse to believe that this is the only option.��

    Marrak only dropped his head, his voice faint and defeated, ��I see. Then I have no more words for you. If you can��t hear them, then this is the only way they will.��

    He gripped the last shard tight in his hand and widened his stance, feet firmly planted this time. His freehand raised to meet Syra, and red shimmered around it like ruby dust.

    That pose.

    She felt her body flinch. It was the same one��the one he taught her before going West. But this wasn��t the training grounds. Now, it was aimed at her.

    She charged her hand, but it still shook. Even with a different face, that look of disappointment was the same.

    ��Please, Valen. I��m a healer��I don��t want to fight you.��

    ��Come now,�� he snickered, ��you are much more than that, Bronzed Valkyrie.��

    No. I don��t want��

    ��Wars come and go,�� Baba��s voice echoed in her mind, ��Whether you want it or not.��

    She clenched her jaw against her words.

    Swordfighting''s one thing, but to use your magic��your essence��to take another��s away? The image of Morin��s skin burning from within seized her gut. It taints you. Burns you.

    But this is war. That voice poked its head out of its box, as if biding its time since her fight with him. No more running. No more hiding. You can��t hold back anymore.

    She passed a glance at Cassius��at the hands burned by a brief touch of uncontrolled essence.

    It wasn��t sorrow or love that her soulstone was leaking in Omei, though it certainly felt like it at the time. Grief indeed clouded the mind, but it also weakened the heart��weakened its resolve and its own bindings. Her fight with Morin proved that mana wasn��t completely finite. It wasn��t only drawn from the earth as Valen and the Council said. It could be shared. Channeled. Generated from within oneself. This was the burning in her chest. The burn that scared her into locking it away, because ��too much too fast burns you out.�� But when focused and regulated, like the bolts from Morin��s shocksticks, like the bolt she just used on Marrak, it was very much usable.

    But I don��t know how long it��ll last��how long this body will last. What if I burn out too soon? What if it��s not enough?

    Now��s the best time to find out, said the voice.

    ��Damn it...fine.��

    She refocused on Marrak, reading his body like a tournament contestant. She drew a slow breath, unbridling the muscles she swore to never free. Her joints loosened. Her limbs flowered into place and her core tightened, like a well-aimed bow. Piece after piece, her spine straightened, and all channels opened wide for the surge of mana released from her core reservoir. Heat rushed through every vessel. Not searing heat like Petra''s, but a deep buzzing that warmed and tingled every muscle. And then she reared back��legs primed and charm clamped in a fist.

    ��Now!��

 |Chapter 38| Crown of Stones (Pt. 2)

    Cassius and Petra rushed forward, keeping shoulder to shoulder. Marrak again brought up a barrier, but this time the twins split around it. From behind them, Aidan charged the wall with sword raised and gleaming. The twins braced themselves and he brought the blade down on the barrier. The wall sliced open with a flash and the shockwave shot out in all directions.

    Syra heard Marrak grunt as he hit the wall, but she focused on the three shimmering outlines crouched within the dust cloud and kept her hands firm against the floor as the blast passed.

    ��Go!��

    She heard Aidan call and released her hold.

    The twins broke through the dust and met Marrak head-on. Marrak��s hands flew up, but Cassius latched onto his wrists, pinning his arms behind him.

    ��Petra, now!��

    Marrak barely saw the blur before Petra��s fist found his gut. All breath seized from his lungs and he doubled over, his grip loosening.

    ��Aidan!�� Cassius snatched up the shard and threw it across the hall.

    As he watched it fall and skitter into Aidan��s hands, Marrak drew a deep breath through a growing snarl. His fists clenched and radiated, making Cassius yelp.

    ��Syra!�� Petra wrapped her arm around Marrak��s neck and forced him to his knees.

    Marrak squirmed against their hold, managing to pull one foot under himself. But the pat-pat of light feet and the glint of gold in his face made him flinch as Syra jabbed the charm onto his forehead.

    ��Dah aranidah.��

    At her words, the charm shone and its legs stretched out, attaching itself to Marrak��s head. Marrak screamed as the metal dug into his skin.

    The siblings jumped back as threads of white light shot from the spider and encircled him, wrapping thread after thread. Syra��s lips trembled as she watched him thrash and claw at his face, wriggling like a worm against his glowing cocoon.

    I��m sorry.

    ��Syra, now!�� Aidan pressed the shard to his sword and its manablade crackled and expanded.

    She tore her eyes away and crouched down, throwing up a small barrier above her as Aidan charged. Drawing back his sword, he leapt onto the barrier and she heaved him upwards towards the arch.

    The blade fell and sliced clean through the stone. But sparks flew and metal screamed as it hit the raging current within the archway.

    ��Damn it,�� Aidan yelled as he fell into Syra��s glowing hands.

    ��Try again!�� called Petra from her position over Marrak.

    ��And quickly!�� Cassius joined in restraining the smoldering cocoon as the threads burnt and snapped one by one.

    A second attempt drove the blade deeper, but when the current met the metal hilt it arched and shot Aidan straight into the back wall.

    ��Aid����

    The twin��s screams cut off Syra��s cry, and she turned to watch their smoking bodies cling futilely to the bundle rising from the floor. The waves of heat brought a flood of fearscent and charred skin, welding her feet to the floor.

    Snap��snap.

    The last threads broke and the twins collapsed onto the floor. Her legs quaked as Marrak leered up at her, gold dripping down his forehead.

    ��Shit.��

    Her vision flashed red as all air left her chest. Heat stung her skin followed by the cold slap of stone as she tumbled back across the floor.

    ��Syra!��

    Aidan��s hoarse voice forced her eyes open.

    Hunched below the arch, Marrak drew his breath back through gritted teeth. He glared up at the sparks flowing from the sliced stone.

    ��Alright, then,�� he snarled back at Aidan and Syra, ��have it your way.��

    He straightened himself and lifted an arm. His entire body cloaked itself in a red glow, and his arm shone as if white-hot. From within this heat, a blackness bubbled up onto his skin. It wept down, coating his arm, solidifying and cracking into scales black as obsidian.

    Aidan��s eyes went wide, ��Oh shit.��

    With a mighty swing, Marrak dug his fingers into the stone wall. He latched them around a golden thread and yanked it from the wall like a shallow root. Red light surrounded the thread and he slung it back and forth, the whip crackling and igniting the brush between Syra and the twins.

    ��Leave! Now!�� He bore down on them, cracking a warning against the floor.

    But Syra heaved herself up to glare at him, ��No��I won��t.��

    She sprinted to the twins and Marrak reared back.

    The first strike sent her and the twins colliding into Aidan, and they skidded towards the cave entrance. The second struck Syra��s barrier, shattering it instantly.

    As he drew back for a third, Syra glanced down at her siblings, at their scorched skin and the fear finally displayed on their faces.

    They can��t fight like this. Not against him.

    Exactly, the voice repeated. No more holding back.

    She watched the searing red line come down upon them, and her arms shot upward. Heat surged from her chest as gold light blazed around them. A deep jarring sent her bones buzzing and filled her skull with humming. Her skin prickled with the tingling of needles, the hairs standing like tiny barbs. It stretched and tightened, cracking and callusing. Hardening.

    The crack of the whip echoed through the hall, but when Marrak drew the whip back it didn��t budge. Crouched amidst the falling dust, Syra clutched the whip with shimmering arms covered in bright, bronze scales that glinted like armor.

    The twins drew back, but Aidan gaped in momentary awe as the Bronzed Valkyrie stood over him once again, her hair wild in the heat surging from both whip and warrior. Even Marrak stood open-mouthed at the sight spoken of but rarely seen.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ��Take the shard and run,�� she whispered to Aidan. ��Now.��

    At their fleeing, Marrak yanked back but Syra latched on tight and dug her glowing heels into the floor.

    ��No, you come here!�� Her core and shoulders burned as she reared back, yanking the whip and pulling Marrak off his feet. She sprinted towards him and charged her fist, ��Take your fucking ring back.��

    As his head neared, black scales spread across his face only to shatter as the morakii smashed into his cheekbone, exploding.

    The shockwave slammed Marrak into a wall and Syra��s limp body flew across the hall and skidded out the mouth of the cave, tumbling down the mountainside.

    ��Syra!�� Aidan and the twins dashed down the hillside after her, paying no heed to the growing shadow behind them.

    ��Syra!�� Aidan poured over the body lying limp on the ground. ��Syra! Shit, she��s out cold.��

    They checked her over with timid hands, the memory of Morai making them all tremble. But there were no blisters this time. Now the burns were speckled with broken and torn scales, leaving macralled marks that matched her old scars.

    ��Damn it, Syra,�� said Aidan. ��You burned yourself out again.��

    ��At least it��s not as bad as in Morai,�� said Cassius.

    ��I don��t know, her hand looks pretty messed up.�� Petra lifted it gently, ��You think it''s broken?��

    ��Wouldn��t surprise me,�� said Aidan. ��But she can heal herself if we can just get her to wake up.��

    He lightly patted her face, ��Come on, now. Wake up��you have to get up.��

    But she didn��t stir.

    ��Shit.�� He turned to check the cave, but no shadow followed. ��We have to get her and the shard away from here. But she��s in no state to travel.��

    Cassius watched Petra pour over Syra, examining her body with quivering fingers like she did with Aidan on the train. ��Could you sing for her?��

    ��Huh?��

    ��You healed Aidan before. Could you do it again, for her?��

    But Petra shook her head, ��That was the first thing I thought of. But the ''Song of Rest'' only works on toxins, not flesh wounds.��

    ��Do you know of one that does?�� asked Aidan.

    ��No. Like you said, we��re in peacetime, so we rarely have a need for it.��

    She waited for a snarky retort, but none came. His gaze only grew more distant.

    ��Then we��ll have to use mine. Give me your hand,�� he said, holding his out to Petra.

    ��W-what?��

    ��You channeled with Syra before��now try it with me.��

    She scoffed, ��You want me to sing? With you?��

    ��Aye.��

    ��You can��t be serious.�� She laughed in complete bafflement and looked to Cassius. ��This boy thinks he can sing.��

    ��Syra told you my mother was Gifted,�� he said to Cassius, ��that she was a Green Witch. But she was also a songstress.��

    ��But that doesn��t guarantee that you share her gift.��

    ��Exactly!�� said Petra. ��Don��t get me wrong, I heard you at the festival and you weren��t bad, but that��s not going to fix all this.��

    ��But, we do have a shard now,�� said Cassius pointing to the crystal in Aidan��s hand. ��That could make up for the power difference. Couldn��t it?��

    ��Hmm,�� Her humor turned serious and she chewed her lip. ��Fine,�� she grabbed Aidan��s hands and placed the crystal against Syra��s chest, holding it still with both their hands. ��I��ll try to match you, but don��t blame me if it doesn��t work because you��re off-key.��

    His broad smile caught her off-guard and he squeezed her hand tight.

    ��Thank you, Petra. Just focus on my words like you would any songspell.��

    ��O-oh��right. Ready when you are, then.��

    He leaned over to Syra��s ear, ��Hey, Syra? Petra and I are���� A third hand clasped around theirs and he looked up to see a grinning Cassius. ��I mean, we are going to sing something for you. So, you better be listening and wake up for us. That��s an order, my lady.��

    He straightened to meet the twins�� eager gaze.

    ��So, what is this song of yours?�� asked Petra.

    A bittersweet grin graced his face, ��My mother��s lullaby��I guess you can call it the ''Song of Skinned Knees''.��

    He took a deep breath and offered a silent prayer before their voices sent the air rippling.

    When darkness comes and your flame grows cold,

    And all stars refuse to shine,

    A grain of light from deep within,

    Cuts through the gloom.

    With a spark, the shard flickered to a steady glow as their voices tuned themselves��even Cassius managed to stay in rhythm. Aidan jolted as his hands warmed and waves of gentle heat flowed between him, the twins, and the shard. Petra just gave him a silent nod and closed her eyes, belting out harmonizing hums as she locked onto the song��s flow.

    Under the gales of darkness,

    Its whispering is heard.

    Wrap your heart around it tight,

    And heed its tender words.

    Aidan gazed down at Syra��s sleeping face��reddened and speckled with bronze scales, but still as gentle as ever. He let one hand slip to her face and graze the shining scales on her cheek.

    It sings of love unceasing,

    Yet no lie it ever tells.

    And even in its sleeping,

    Its flame forever dwells.

    His voice nearly cracked as her skin and outline finally shimmered, brighter and brighter. At this, Cassius and Petra latched onto her hand. Their voices rose, and even the wind seemed to accompany them as it swirled the specks of green light from the vegetation around them.

    Draw closer from that frigid night.

    Let its warmth soak in.

    Cling to it with all your might,

    And day will come again.

    The specks spiraled inward, disappearing into the golden aura around Syra��s body. The aura grew and pulsed, and Syra��s breathing gradually returned to normal. Her scales receded or flaked off, and the burns mended themselves. When the glow finally faded, her eyes flickered open with sleepy confusion.

    ��W-what��what happened? Where are we?�� She went to sit up, but Cassius braced her against himself.

    ��You burnt out again,�� Aidan said, still holding her hand.

    ��I did? Damn it. I really thought this time����

    ��I��m telling you,�� Petra squeaked between sniffs, ��it��s that damn human body. It can��t keep up with you. Even this shard is a shade dimmer after helping y��.��

    ��Shit, the shard!�� Syra��s hands skittered about the ground, but Aidan caught them lightly.

    ��It��s alright��we have it. Here, see?�� He held it out to her and she fell back into Cassius�� arms.

    ��Thank goodness. I thought Marrak got it for sure����

    She went rigid. Her eyes locked on the shard��on the carving now glowing on one of its faces.

    ��What is it?�� asked Aidan.

    ��That rune��let me see it.��

    He had barely tilted the rune towards her when it flashed and she knocked it out of his hand.

    ��What on Erd, Syra?�� Petra jumped after the shard.

    ��No wait, don��t!��

    Petra paused just in time for the vortex to shoot open and close, taking the shard and bits of turf with it.

    Surprise and horror wrecked Syra��s face and all looked to her with hanging mouths.

    ��What was that?�� asked Petra. ��What just happened? Did we��did we just����

    ��We lost it.�� Syra��s voice cracked.

    ��But how?�� asked Cassius.

    ��What was that rune?�� Aidan asked, catching her falling gaze. ��You recognized it, didn��t you?��

    She nodded, ��As should you.�� She absently drew the symbol in the dirt, ��It��s the central rune on the transpoint shards.��

    Aidan paled, ��So that��that rune I saw him sketching. It wasn��t for the altar at all.��

    She stared blankly at the slew of woven lines. Simple enough to draw, but nearly impossible to power, let alone control.

    ��To bend the Four Pillars of Aranida��s Web,�� she hushed, ��that��s the mark of a true archmage.�� She looked back up at the cave mouth. At the aurora radiating the stone in greens, reds, and violets. At the shadow curled up inside. ��I can��t imagine what this will make.��

 |Chapter 38| Crown of Stones (Pt. 3)

    <hr>

    ��Well, come on, then!�� Petra heaved her up. ��We have to go back for it. We have to����

    A sudden flash illuminated the cave as a thunderous roar sent the ground shaking. The stone columns screamed as dust billowed out the cave and the mountain face cracked. Up and out, it fractured. Splitting and shifting until streams of dirt ran down its sides.

    ��We have to run!�� Aidan latched an arm around Syra and herded them into the trees away from the city. But they weren��t yet down the slope when gravity lost its hold.

    The Dwarven Keep let out one last cry as its mountain crumbled upon itself for a second and final time. Earth and stone, weathered and carved, all tumbled forth, raging down its face in waves. It took the entry hall with its archways and drawings. It took the meadow blossoming on its side. Now it charged on the city with little more than saplings and skeletal buildings for defense. Of these, a lone watchtower��though half its original height��beckoned with its fortified marble siding.

    ��Behind here!�� Syra and the others huddled against its leeward side in time for the landslide to hit. They braced themselves against the wall as the tower shook and groaned against the rush of earth. But the surge hit harder than expected. The tower��s metal screamed, and black lines veined across its white stone until it, too, shattered.

    ��Get down!�� Syra braced herself over Aidan and the twins as darkness fell upon the golden dome.

    ***

    Syra��s lungs and muscles burned by the time the earth had stilled. She gave one last heave and sunlight peeked through as the layer of rubble fell away.

    ��Is everyone alright?�� she asked through pants.

    ��I think so.�� But Cassius double-checked.

    ��Then, we need to find Marrak.�� said Aidan, staying Cassius�� hand. ��Did anyone see him escape?��

    ��No,�� said Petra, ��but I wasn��t really looking either.��

    All craned their heads around the collapsed building to the sunken mountainside above them.

    ��Could he have actually survived that?�� asked Syra. ��Even a dragon would be crushed by that weight.��

    ��Maybe he��s trapped?�� asked Cassius.

    ��Even better.�� Petra sneered. ��I hope he rots away slowly and����

    The mountain groaned.

    All breathing stopped as their eyes shot to the shifting mound of earth and stone.

    Bits of rocks tumbled down as the mound grew upwards. Higher and higher, until red light gleamed from underneath. Then, like shedding skin, the layers of dirt fell away leaving a radiant and steaming Ignis crouched in its nest of debris. Embedded across its forehead, five stars shone like a crown of stone and horn.

    ��We��re too late.�� Syra��s voice broke as she stared unblinking at Marrak��his body like cooling lava with a head like the night sky, just like the firelands at nightfall.

    What do we do now?

    ��Syra!�� Marrak boomed from his crumbled seat, sending them all back to cover. He swung his wide head around, as if its stars weighed it down. But despite his searching, found only silent rubble. ��Syra, where are you?��

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    His voice cracked and Syra��s body jolted to answer his plea.

    No. She reined herself still. Is he actually worried? Or just frustrated that his opponent��his prey��got away? She chewed her cheek as his grunts and digging filled the wasted valley. He said it himself, he has no more words for me. She glanced over at the twins clutching each other''s hands. Their burns were healing, but slowly. And their fearscent filled the cavity despite their brave faces. At this point, trying any more really will get us killed.

    With a deep breath, she shoved her trembling into a box for later and gave Aidan the sign to hold-in-place. Marrak had a deadline to meet, and an army waiting for his lead. He couldn��t waste time searching for a rebellious daughter that didn��t want to be found. Plus, she needed time and space to unbind the twins.

    They all kept stone still, barely brave enough to breathe in fear of Marrak��s possibly heightened senses. But the fresh dirt saturated the air, and Marrak roared and huffed about the fruitless boulders and buildings.

    He��s so frantic. Syra thought, sharpening her ear to his movements. His steps are unsteady��he keeps slipping. It��s like he��s not even thinking about where he��s looking. His jostling ended with a shrieking roar that shook the air. Is he��crying? He can��t be this upset over me.

    ��Damn it, where are you?��

    His voice creaked out this time��a whine Syra had only heard the day she deployed��and she strained to catch the whispers.

    ��No��no I can��t, she��ll get hurt. And Aidan��s with her, too�� but��yes, I know.��

    Shit. Who��s he talking to? She craned her head to peek through a pinhole in the cracks. But it was just him��crouched by his debris pile and snout shoved into the dirt. Is��is he talking to himself?

    ��But there��s no time for that!�� He clawed at the stones in his forehead as if they were stubborn scalemites. ����then I��ll just have to��exactly, just for now.��

    He cast one last glance about the valley before leaping into the air in a rush that threatened to topple the party��s hidey hole. But the stones settled and his wingbeats died on the horizon.

    ��Fuck, that was way too close.�� Petra slumped with a heavy breath. ��You could feel his heat from here. Even I don��t want to get near that.��

    ��But we have to face him somehow, don��t we?�� asked Cassius. ��The altar��s obviously destroyed, but the shards still worked.��

    ��If they worked, then why didn��t he just ignite this whole place? Take us out for good?��

    ��Maybe he doesn��t see us as much of a threat now that they��re implanted?�� asked Aidan.

    Cassius nodded, ��We are a little outmatched right now.��

    ��The shards,�� Syra said , still staring at where Marrak debated himself, ��I think they might��ve done something to him.��

    ��What do you mean?�� asked Aidan.

    ��He just��wasn��t acting like himself.��

    ��Of course not!�� said Petra. ��This isn��t Valen we��re dealing with anymore.��

    Fair point.

    ��But even still, he clawed at the stones like they were painful.��

    ��I bet they are.�� Aidan massaged his own forehead. ��Can��t see how a surge of mana like that wouldn��t be.��

    Syra shook her head, ��He was talking to someone, Aidan. Like he was crazed or something.��

    ��Hm.�� Aidan thought for a moment, ��Sulaer��s books did mention Gurn being referred to as the ��Mad Alchemist��. I had thought that only pertained to his methods, but maybe there��s more to it.��

    Syra chewed a thumbnail, ��A huge surge of mana, you said? Like the current in the altar?��

    ��Most likely. Gurn didn��t implant the shards like Marrak did, but I can only imagine that having a current that strong so close to your brain would have serious side effects. I mean, my alchemists were arrunic gear for a reason.��

    ��Damn it. That means he��ll be even less likely to reason with the longer he wears them.��

    She turned to the twins and gave Petra grin, pointing to a clearing in the rubble, ��Let��s go, then. It��s a long flight and they can jump at any time.��

    ��Yes, finally!�� Petra bolted from the cavity towards the clearing.

    ��Hold on, don��t trip. Can��t have you broken before the fight even starts.�� Cassius watched his footing, but he was nearly skipping himself.

    ��So, uh���� Aidan stopped Syra with a waxen look on his face, ��how am I supposed to come with you, exactly?��

    The little imp grinned up at him and clasped his hand like a toddler at a fair, ��You get to ride this time.��

 |Chapter 39| Oathkeeper

    <hr>

    ��This is in no way, a joy ride!�� Aidan screamed from between Syra��s scaly fingers. He clawed, white-knuckled, at the bronze cage clutching him to her chest, and his locks whipped his face in their protest against such heights.

    The twins, however, banked, dove, and surfed thermals like lumbering dolphins.

    ��Landelle is past those hills,�� Syra called them back from playtime. ��The Transpoint is just after that, so keep your eyes sharp. Both on the ground and the sky. We don��t know how Marrak plans to attack.��

    ��And if you do see the army,�� Aidan added, ��avoid burning everything, please. We��re trying to stop the rebels, not destroy homes and crop fields.��

    ��You know I can��t guarantee that,�� said Petra.

    ��Well, try! These are people you hope to get steak from, remember?��

    Petra swallowed her retort and turned her large, blazing eyes to the forest and fields below. ��Then we need to separate them first��before they meet if possible.��

    ��Agreed,�� said Aidan. ��A single wall of dragonfire should stall them without too much damage.��

    ��And if they��re already engaged?�� asked Syra. ��We��ll be burning both sides.��

    ��Then we��ll wall them off completely," said Petra, "Encircle them like skyrays and keep them in the fields.��

    ��And if they have flameweavers? They��ll cut right through.��

    Petra scoffed, ��Not my flames, they won��t.��

    ��It��ll at least scare them shitless for a time,�� Cassius said, smirking. ��And keep them from entering the city.��

    Aidan shook his head, ��We��ll need more time than that if Marrak��s disguised himself again.��

    ��I doubt he��ll stay hidden once he sees us, if he��s hidden at all.�� Syra scanned the approaching cloudfront, ��He��s probably leading the charge himself.��

    ��Not likely,�� said Aidan. ��He��s far too cautious to give away their position. If their goal is surprise, then he��ll most likely jump first and hide among the masses until the battle starts. Just like he did nine years ago.��

    Nine years ago. Syra stared at the hazy ridge in the distance. Nine years and two deaths ago, this whole charade started with a broken stone and a promise. And now, it��ll end no differently.

    ��We can��t let that happen,�� she said. ��We have to find him before he shifts. Confine him if at all possible.��

    ��Didn��t Baba send for the Fae and Kiithran?�� asked Cassius. ��We��ll at least have their support.��

    ��Yes, but we can��t be sure of a speedy arrival. So, right now��it��s up to us.��

    The streets and rooftops of Landelle blurred beneath them, and Syra��s gut clenched tighter than the fist at her chest.

    ��We��re here,�� she said, spying the glint of the Transpoint above the treeline. She peered down at Aidan��s head poking through her fingers, ��Your final orders, Captain?��

    ***

    Syra smelled the battle before the horn sounded. Carried on the wind, the cry of man and metal reached their clouded approach and even the falling drizzle couldn��t mask the stench of fearscent. Her stomach knotted and she clenched her eyes shut.

    Damn it. Not now.

    But it was all there. Again. The fear. The metal, wet with rain and blood. Only the burnt flesh was missing and even that was a matter of time. She had taken such care, too��like many soldiers did. But a year��s respite wasn��t enough to prevent her breath from catching, and her wings hesitated in their banking.

    I said, not now! Now is the time to focus. Come on��focus. She forced her breaths to match her wingbeats. There we go. Just��one thing at a time. One ��best step�� at a time.

    ��What is it? Can you see anything?�� Aidan asked, snapping her back to their gray surroundings.

    ��Just a little. They��re coming up below us now.��

    ��Alright. Slowly now, so we can get a better view.��

    ��Got it.��

    They descended through the clouds and shapes appeared through the mist. Their details were blurred by the height and rain, but Syra sharpened her focus until uniforms were visible.

    ��How are we?�� asked Aidan. ��What can you see?��

    ��They��re well past the Outer Ring, but have stalled just below Petaller��s Hill. We have reinforcements on the way, but they have another wave waiting behind the ridge.��

    ��Alight. Cassius, Petra? You cut-off the second wave. One of you, guard the top of the ridge. The other maintains the flamewall. The rain should keep flames from spreading too far, so you can make it as thick as you��d like. We��ll go����

    ��Hold on!�� Syra banked sharper, circling for a better view into the forest flanking the MainWay. She couldn��t spot all of them, but there was definitely movement under the canopy��like ants under leaves. ��They��re in the forest, too! On both sides.��

    ��Shit, they��re surrounding them.�� Petra banked and took off towards the forest.

    ��Wait!�� Aidan called. ��We don��t know that for sure.��

    But his voice was lost to the wind and Petra vanished into the gray.

    ��Damn it, Petra.�� Aidan strained his eyes at the treeline, praying for a glimpse of positioning. But even Fae eyes had their limits and he turned them back to Cassius.

    ��Can handle the ridge yourself? We can��t let their reinforcements through.��

    ��Don''t worry.�� Cassius�� darkening eyes sent tingles down Aidan��s neck. ��I can be scary when I want to be.��

    ��G-good. Syra and I will handle the other flank then search for Marrak.��

    ��And if Marrak acts first?��

    Aidan glanced down at the ring of dragonlances primed atop their towers, ��Then neither fire nor arrow will be enough.��

    ��Then it��s a good thing we have a little magic on our side.�� Cassius said, giving Syra a wink before veering back towards the ridge.

    ��A little magic, huh?�� Aidan chuckled and looked up at the green eyes above him��at their golden constellation twinkling inside. ��I don��t think he noticed that the package just got a lot bigger.��

    Syra��s smile only lasted until the meadow came into view.

    I just hope it��s enough.

    Syra brought them down where the mist met the forest northwest of the city. She released Aidan but remained crouched and scanned the understory for movement. Neither spoke. Aidan tapped his nose but Syra shook her head and huffed rain from her snout.

    ��Great��, his eyes seemed to say. ��I��ll scout ahead��, he signaled, pointing to a nearby tree. ��You hold and keep watch.��

    Aidan knelt by the tree and Syra kept her body still and her eyes sharp.

    There was an odd calmness about them. A security. Not exactly pleasant, but familiar. She glanced down at the silent and focused man below her. That was it. She had seen this scene many times before, but never from this height. He had always towered above her. But now, seeing him so small lit a spark that growled in her chest.

    It��s like M?r Vanad��r all over again. But this time, we��re infiltrating a human den. She scoffed to herself, Who would��ve thought Marrak to be less reasonable than Erdenir?

    Psst!

    Aidan��s hiss snapped her back and she craned her head over.

    ��Their flank is holding beyond that rise over there,�� he whispered. ��But they��re scattered and nervous. If you can distract them, I should be able to sneak into the west tunnel. You can follow afterwards. You remember the way, right?��

    Like I could ever forget that spot.

    ��White clover, come over?�� she asked with a smirk.

    ��Exactly.�� He forced the twinkle in his eye away and refocused on the forest ahead. ��Now go. I��ll be right behind you.��

    Syra watched him slink through the brush on sure and silent feet. When he reached the edge of the stream bank he signaled her forward.

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    With a slight hop, her form shrank and a bronzed bird fluttered from its glow. She darted through the trees until she reached the company of rebels. She zipped back and forth, flying tree to tree. Some of the men took notice, but passed her off as wildlife and continued forward.

    Looks like I��ll need to be more persistent. More��annoying.

    The memory of Cassius�� game of hide-and-seek came to mind and a trill burbled in her throat.

    She landed near their rear and opened her beak with a deep breath. Then, she began the harkening. The piercing squawks and shrills filled the glen, even grating her own ears. Over and over, she screamed until the nearby soldiers cursed and threw sticks and stones. But she merely fluttered to a different tree to continue her oral barrage. Some finally gave chase and she turned her focus to their heads, swooping and bombarding the whole flank.

    ��What the hell is this thing doing?�� One said, shielding his head.

    ��Its nest must be somewhere,�� said another.

    ��Well shoot it down! Or they��ll hear us.��

    Their arrows flew, and missed.

    ��Stop, stop! You��re wasting your arrows.�� Their commander stepped between them and flailed his arms at her.

    You! Syra��s feathers puffed up as her eyes locked onto Larson. He had the same smug grin, but the hand-shaped burn on his cheek was freshly scarred. Looks like Marrak has some sense of justice after all.

    Larson seemed to take notice of her gloating as he paused to stare her down, ��If the little shit wants a fight, I��ll give her one.�� He drew out a throwing knife and pointed it straight at her, ��I��ll slash that throat wide open��we��ll see if you can sing then.��

    She readied a spring and locked her gaze on his face.

    You sir, won��t be seeing anything.

    His knife flew and she dove. But the blade only caught the wind under her wing, and she latched her toes into his hair, pecking at the white berry in his face. He yowled and thrashed her from his head. Red flowed down his face and the men gathered round. All eyes were on him��all eyes except his.

    With the flank in chaos, she crested the rise and scouted for Aidan. Nothing. But beyond the wall of the Inner Ring, two pillars of smoke rose into the clouds.

    Shit. He better have made it in.

    She wafted down to the stream below. There was still no Aidan. But there were tracks in the clover patch. Tracks that led along the stream to a small, gated tunnel. Seeing no followers, she flew over and hopped through the bars into the shadow of the tunnel.

    ��Syra?�� Aidan eyed the blood-faced bird with caution.

    ��Aye,�� it squawked, shifting back into humanoid form.

    ��Why do you have blood�C��

    ��No time, let��s go.�� She wiped her face and tugged him down the tunnel, a hand lighting their way. ��Cas and Petra have already started, so Marrak will be on guard. Have you thought of how to bind him? We��ll need something bigger than an earring this time.��

    ��Yes, but I have to get to the workshop first.�� He paused as the tunnel expanded and they entered the catacombs under the city.�� I also have to warn my father and the guard about Marrak��s new headgear. They don��t know what they��re up against. Our current defenses might not be enough.��

    ��Probably won��t.��

    He leered down at her and she dipped her head.

    ��Right, not helping.��

    His jaw tensed, ��I do have one thing. But it��s a prototype��I don��t know if or how well it��ll work.��

    ��At this point, anything��s worth a shot.��

    They turned a corner only to be met with a wall of fallen rubble.

    ��Shit,�� Aidan kicked the collapsed stones. ��Shit, we can��t go back. They��ll be����

    ��It��s alright.�� She dug up the map from her memory, ��I know another way. Come on.��

    She led him through the weaving tunnels without much pause, and Aidan followed right along, surprised by her surefootedness.

    ��How do you know your way around so well?��

    ��Long story. You can thank me later.��

    Like he��d actually thank me for collapsing an entire street.

    They finally arrived at a stairway.

    ��This leads up to the Academy��s sewer system,�� she said, ushering him up the steps. ��Get to the main floor and you��ll know your way from there.��

    ��Wait,�� he paused, looking back, ��you��re not coming?��

    She pointed at her face, ��You really think your father will listen to this?��

    ��But you��ll be spotted either way. At least I can protect���� He shielded his eyes as the sudden light illuminated the archways.

    ��You just focus on protecting the city and capturing Marrak��, said the nordess in front of him, ��I��m going to find Marrak.��

    ��You can��t��not alone. We don��t even know where to look.�� He reached for her arm but she stepped back.

    ��I have one idea. If not there, then I��ll go ask Orleck. I��ll explain the coup against Stahdler and have them search the city.��

    ��So, you��re just going to throw Stahdler��s name around like that?��

    ��If he can help us find Marrak quickly, then yes. I��ll bow after this is over. Now go!��

    ��Alright, alright��I��m going, Captain.�� He pulled her close and pressed a light kiss to her temple. ��Just��be careful.��

    She watched him disappear up the stairs, then followed the tunnel further down. Despite the layers of earth between them, she swore she could hear the chaotic feet and mumblings of the students��her classmates��in the hall above.

    Please, be alright. She pictured Rimmel crouched over Ricca, while Nelly directed everyone to the basefloor. Just stay there. Stay safe��don��t fight. You have no business out here. No, not even you, Nel. She smeared away a stray tear as she came to the stairs at the end of the tunnel. Let me fix this. Let me fix this for all of us.

    Pastel clouds of blooms greeted her outside the tunnel gate.

    Were the cherries always this pink?

    She stared a moment at the garden before her, as if the breeze through the leaves muted the crying in the distance. She had only been gone a month, yet spring arrived in full ensemble without her. The blooms came for their bees. The geese came with their waddlings. And, to her surprising satisfaction, so did he.

    ��Once this is all over����

    Her pulse quickened, but he remained seated, giving her no notice. He simply sat, on that bench, by that tree. Their tree. And there he sat, picking. Picking one, by one, by one, pausing each time to watch the snowy petal waft and fall to the green below. As if waiting. Silent, contemplative, and waiting.

    One last shot.

    She entered the garden and plucked an iris from its stem. Its purple petals matched the cape draped over his head and shoulders. Altaira purple. Clutching the bloom, she willed her hand steady and approached her mentor on the bench. But still, he did not rise nor lift his head to her. He simply twirled the balding daisy between his fingers. Only when her boots entered his vision did he stop.

    She held out the iris, her skin stark white against its dark bloom, and he slowly lifted his head.

    ��You shouldn��t be here. Get to the basefloor where it��s sa���� His face froze as he met the green eyes staring down at him. ��Syra?��

    She offered him a faint grin, ��I take it that cake is off the table?��

    ��You��re alive! Thank Draco you��re���� his arms flew up to meet her, but froze mid-air, ��you��re here.�� He groaned and let his arms and head fall, ��No. No, I told you to leave, Bug. It��s not safe for you anymore, and we��re about to be����

    ��But we don��t have to be.�� She tapped the daisy gently with the iris. ��You��ve made your point��the Black Thorn voiced their anger and Altaira heard it. Now, we can just����

    ��Just what?�� The gems in his forehead flickered and he turned a snarl on her. ��Talk things out? Figure out ��a better way��?��

    ��Yes! That��s exactly we need to d����

    ��Oh, my dear dear Syra,�� his snarl twisted into a wry grin, ��my dearest little Fuzzlebug. How hard you fight despite how little you actually know.��

    A lock on her box snapped open.

    ��Then tell me what I don��t know, damn it!�� She threw the flower down and snatched up his collar, jarring the smirk from his face. ��Tell me what��s actually going on!��

    ��That is not my place, I��m afraid.��

    ��Not your place? If not you, then who? For Erd��s sake, you��re Master Valen the archmage! Council Magus and advisor to King Rogan. You taught me everything I know, magic and otherwise. You��you��re Valen Ferra and I��m your����

    He pressed the daisy to her mouth, silencing her, ��And there��s your problem��right there.��

    ��What?��

    ��I am not Valen.�� He plucked off another petal. ��I am not your mentor.�� And another. ��And I am certainly not your father.�� Two more. ��Just as you,�� he tucked the single-petalled flower behind her ear, ��are not human and Altaira is not your home.�� He wiped the budding tear from her cheek, ��You must accept this, Syra. You must wake up.��

    ��And if I don��t?�� She smacked his hand away. ��If I choose to believe otherwise��to live and act otherwise?��

    ��Then you are a selfish fool, Syra Montari!�� The shards flashed and his pupils narrowed. ��Actions have consequences, and some are greater than others. They ripple, and build, beyond just one lifetime. And one slip, one misjudgement or missaid word, one choice can shape a wildly different future.��

    ��Then why are you continuing with this rebellion? Why are you��breaking everything?��

    ��Because it was already broken!�� A sadness filled his eyes and the shards lost their glitter. ��Because it is necessary. And��because it is done. Blows have been made. Lives lost to a cause, on both sides. There is no going back. Only forward.��

    ��Only forward?�� She pulled at her hair to restrain the roar in her throat. ��Forward for whom? Forward to a future that you planned? One that suits you?��

    ��Oh, no. No, no. Lord knows that future is way gone. Years gone.��

    ��Then, why are you here? In this spot? By our tree? Why would you come all the way here instead of leading the charge towards this glorious fut����

    ��Because!�� He winced and rubbed at his head until the surge faded. ��Because���� His eyes locked onto hers, fully red and bloodshot, and he placed a hand on her head, ��I came here to say goodbye, Bug.��

    ��W-what do you mean, goodbye? Aren��t you going to fight? Aren��t we going to fight?��

    At this, he chuckled loud enough to spook the geese.

    ��I never wanted to fight you! It was you and your mother��s stubbornness that brought you here. Not me. But now���� He grimaced and doubled over, clutching his face, ��Now, you��ll have to fight. And I��m not even sure what you��ll be facing.��

    ��What are you talking about?�� She lifted his head to see shimmering black veins webbing across his face and down his neck. They inched forward with every pulse, and with each surge the shards shone brighter.

    ��The shards,�� she watched wide-eyed as the blackness spread, ��it��s the shards doing this to you, isn��t it? They��re burning you out!��

    But he was too stricken to answer.

    ��Alright. Then we��we just have to remove them.�� She reached to grasp one shard but it immediately arched and shot her hand away, singed.

    Damn it, that was stupid.

    She charged her hand and tried again. This time only sparks flew and she held her hand steady inside the current. Her nail just grazed the stone when Marrak screamed. He screamed and shook as his body steamed, and Syra yanked her hand away.

    ��I��m sorry, I��m sorry! But we have to get����

    ��No! No, you have to go.�� The black veins widened and bubbled until black scales covered his skin.

    ��No, I can fix this!��

    She charged her hand again, but he grabbed it tight as scales consumed his hand.

    ��I��m so sorry, Bug.�� His eyes pleaded up at her. ��I didn��t expect this��I didn��t want this. But please, you must wake up now.��

    ��But what does that even mean? What if I can��t ��wake up��?��

    ��Then,�� his outline glowed red and slitted eyes locked onto hers, ��you must run.��

 |Chapter 40| A Sleeping Fire Still Burns (Pt. 1)

    <hr>

    All breath left her chest as Marrak shoved her away with a force that sent her tumbling into the pond. Even through the water, his screams pained her ears. She flailed against tangled waterweeds and heaved herself upwards. Her head breached the surface just in time to watch shadows consume his form. The blackness swirled and rose, sparking with embers like a volcanic stormcloud.

    The grass caught fire first. Then the heatwave took the hedges. Even the pond warmed as Marrak stood tall and steaming in the rain. And atop his head, the shards shone clear and radiant.

    Syra watched his gaze breathless, frozen still in the reedbed. But it washed over the garden and the buildings below, turning instead to the fields where the clang of metal and hiss-boom of flamearrow raged on.

    He stared for a long moment, watching, calculating. Until the call of a horn��that horn��broke him and the city from their stupors.

    ��Dragon!�� Guards cried from the ramparts and ran to their towers��to their arrows.

    Marrak fixed his gaze on them but held his ground.

    There was a ratcheting sound, and then a click��a woosh��and then a crack-sizzle as the heavy arrow caught itself in a wavering, red barrier.

    A huff of annoyance brought the barrier down and the arrow thudded into the dirt by his feet.

    ��Dragons are more than mere beasts, you know,�� he rumbled. ��But, if you insist����

    He puffed his chest and red heat veined up through his scales. Up his throat. And then out it came. A jet of heat and light, red and raging at the puny creatures that dared threaten him. The flames washed over the tower, scorching both body and stone. But, to Syra��s bitter relief, the austrum alloy remained intact.

    She turned her gaze to the sky��what little she could see��scanning for flecks of red and gold.

    Where are they? They must��ve seen that. But they can��t come near here��they��ll be shot for sure.

    She readied herself to spring, but a wind blasted her over as Marrak leapt into the air.

    Damn it! They can��t handle him on their own, but�� She craned her head towards the Alchemy Towers, we have to find a way to bring him down. She felt herself split.

    ��A dragon without fire is just a liability.��

    ��When you��re snout-to-snout with an Ignis, even your mother��s fire did little damage.��

    ��Sorry, your sister''s just a little broken.��

    The voices leaked from their boxes to claw her mind.

    But what can I do? I can��t match Marrak in a fight and Aidan��s blueprints are garble to me��I��ll be a hindrance either way.

    ��You are my sword and shield���� Aidan��s voice cut through their chatter.

    She scoffed to herself, You��re the one with the sword, not me. But�� She felt the spark reignite in her chest, if I can do anything, it��s that.

    Taking avian-form, she flew past the Academy towards the workshop and up to the top of Hydrius Tower��the tallest of the two towers with its lightning spire. Finding its roof barren, she circled down, peering into windows until a stubby, black ponytail with flailing arms caught her eye.

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    ��Aidan!�� she rasped, perching on the sill and rapping on the window pane.

    Aidan stopped mid-lecture and fixed his wide eyes on the distraught bird, ��Syr���� He caught himself as the team of alchemists and artificers watched him in intrigued confusion.

    ��You know this bird?�� one asked.

    ��It��s a messenger,�� he fumbled and scurried to open the window.

    ��What��s going on?�� he whispered, keeping his back to them. ��I heard the alarm��are you alright?��

    ��Yes, but that wasn��t for me. Marrak shifted before I could stop him.��

    ��Shit!�� He leaned out the window but only saw forest from his angle. ��How are we holding? How are the twins?��

    ��I didn��t see them. But Marrak��s heading for the fields, and they��ll no doubt engage him.��

    ��Can they take him on?��

    ��Not alone��that��s why I��m here. The shards, they��re definitely affecting his judgment.��

    ��You saw this for sure?��

    ��Yes. Long story, but if you can find a way to disrupt that current, then that might give us an opening.��

    Two familiar roars filled the air and made her feathers stand on end.

    ��I have to go.�� She tapped him on the nose with her beak.

    ��Go? But how can you fight when you have no����

    ��I��m a pretty good shield, remember? Now hurry up with that thing. We��ll try to keep him away from the city as long as possible.��

    Diving from the window, she sprinted over the city towards the fighting. Past the Inner Ring, bodies already sprinkled the hills and smoke streamed from the pock marks on either side. The rebels had managed to crest the hill, but the city��s reinforcements now formed a thick line stretching the full width of the south entrance. In front, the row of armored mages stationed themselves and mounted their amplifiers. In moments, barriers shot out from each one and merged into a shimmering wall of light that towered and arched into a half-dome over the swaths of soldiers. Between this wall and the encroaching rebels, Petra and Cassius crouched, frills flared and teeth bared, as Marrak landed ahead of his army with a blast of flames.

    The rebels fell into ranks behind him, and he turned his gaze to address them as if the field of gilded warriors were but paddies of moonstalks. Petra moved to spring, but Syra landed on a horn and hushed in her ear.

    ��Wait.��

    Petra flinched and checked her side to see nothing, ��Syra?��

    ��I��m right here,�� she pecked at her horn. ��Aidan��s working on a way to contain him, but that��ll take some time. We have to keep him away from the city until then.��

    ��Not likely with just the three of us.��

    ��Can��t you call the others?��

    ��Oh, I would. But all our fighters went to Falorn.�� Petra dug her claws into the dirt, ��Which is why we must stop him here.��

    ��I see.�� She looked back at the Altairan soldiers to see a sea of scared and confused faces, ��I just hope we don''t get shot down with him.��

    "We can handle that," Petra said, looking over to Cassius.

    ��Cas, can you calm down the wormlings? Assure them we��re here to help. That we��re on their side."

    "You really think that''ll work on them?"

    She winked at him, ��If your Words work on me, they''ll work on anyone. Just don''t use the scary ones this time.��

    Cassius chuckled and turned his regal head to the army. As he paused to gaze upon the soldiers, a faint glow filled the gaps in the scales along his throat and a white aura surrounded his head.

    The soldiers hoisted their shields, ready for the pillar of flames. But all that left Cassius�� mouth was sound.

    ��We are with you,�� he said, sending a calming wave over the battalions. His voice did not boom. Only a soft rumble like far-off thunder rippled the rain as it touched each soldier in hearing distance. As their eyes met his, he lifted his head high and spread his wings, letting the aura spread around him like a silver lining, ��We fight with you. With Altaira.�� He craned his head back around and leered at Marrak, the white glow now taking on a reddish hue, ��And against crazed monsters��no matter their kind.��

    Cassius�� glow receded, but even Syra felt her energy surge. Surely the troops felt the same as thundurus hoots were followed by the beating of sword on shield.

    A chuckle from Marrak��s throat stilled them all as lightning flashed across the sky.

    ��You may think me mad, but a monster? No. No, I wish to be quite the opposite. But,�� he took a step towards them and released steam from his neck vents, ��I can be made one. So, just know��however this turns out��the people fighting behind me, and the people praying for them, that��s Altaira��s fault. Altaira��s choice. I am merely their voice.��

    He locked his eyes on the bronze bird, ��Now, Syra! Whether we rise to take control or fall into a dark and uncertain future, that is your choice. So, what will it be?��

    Syra flew from Petra''s horn and dove, glaring at the mocking stones in his head.

    ��Neither.��

 |Chapter 40| A Sleeping Fire Still Burns (Pt. 2)

    She dove and Marrak��s neck vents flared, sucking in air and igniting his throat in an instant. The rain hissed as the red jet left his jaws. She cloaked a barrier around herself and banked hard, twisting on agile wings to evade the flames. Zipping past his head, she banked again. This time, shifting to full dragonform. With his back to her, she sent a wave of cold blasting through the air around her.

    Marrak aimed again, but the cloud of super-chilled air was already above him. The rain pelted him in frozen needles. His scales hissed as they hit, but took little damage. However, as they struck his wet hide, they melded into a thick layer of solid ice that cooled his skin and weighed him down. He groaned and tried to inhale, but his throat vents clacked under the ice.

    With his heat sealed, Petra and Cassius leapt across him, pinning him down.

    ��Now!�� They roared.

    Syra dove and grappled his head. She charged a hand and clawed against the current for the dimmest shard. This time the current washed over her hand like jets of water, but then her claw tapped the shard. A jolt ripped through her body and made her scales buzz.

    Shit. If I can��t touch it then��

    Steam wafted across her face and glanced down to see the ice thinning.

    ��Did you get them?�� called Petra, straining with a hind leg.

    ��Almost!��

    If I can��t grab the shard, then I��ll just take everything.

    Her barrier faded as she diverted all power to one claw. It sparked under the current and glowed white-hot. She steeled herself and dug it into his hide.

    Marrak screeched and flailed, but the weight of two dragons and an iceberg held him fast.

    I��m sorry, she cringed as blood flowed with icemelt as her claw sliced through both skin and stoney scale. Just a little more. She was just the fourth shard when the sound of wheels approached from behind.

    ��Set! Ready!�� The commands called from the rebels�� side.

    Syra spared a glance to see a squad positioning a mobile dragonlance just behind their front line.

    Shit! How��d they get one of those?

    ��Aim!�� The arrowpoint turned to the twins��to Cassius.

    No! No no no��

    Click!

    The trigger fell and the arrow flew as quickly as Syra��s hand. Angry cries rang out as the arrow sparked against the barrier.

    But Marrak only chuckled. Steam hissed from his throat as the ice shattered from his vents, and he shook his head free of both ice and wyrmling.

    Syra tumbled but flipped herself to her feet to see the twins still holding firm.

    Thank goodness, the ice is still��

    And then the air whistled. Filling his chest, Marrak clamped his vents shut. Light peeked through the expanded scales and he aimed his snout at the twins.

    ��Move!�� Syra called.

    Petra and Cassius sprung away as the flames washed over Marraks body, vaporizing the rest of the ice.

    ��Now what?�� Cassius asked Syra.

    All three kept their eyes on Marrak as he heaved himself to his feet.

    ��I almost got the shards that time. One more shot should do it.��

    ��Alright, but you back us up,�� said Petra, stretching. ��He��s even stronger than he looks.��

    ��But he��s also slower in the air.�� Syra thought back to the Ignis patrolling the Gaping Maw��how they glided with wide turns. ��Ignis hunt over open field and sea. They��re not built for agile forest prey. Meaning����

    ��Meaning The Hunt is on afterall.�� Petra��s eyes narrowed into an almost giddy grin. ��Then let��s show him who truly rules the skies.��

    ��Right.�� She casted a glance at Hydrius Tower, I just hope you��re ready.

    Marrak��s roar sent his army charging and he leapt into the air towards the city.

    ��Let��s go!�� Petra led their chase after him, ��We��ll take the flanks, you take the top. Ice him down, then aim for his head again.��

    ��Got it.�� Syra swooped upward, keeping all three in sight.

    Petra and Cassius closed in at his sides. Seeing them in his periphery, he fired quick shots but they kept just out of range and dodged easily.

    With Marrak distracted, Syra pulled ahead and chilled the air once again. This time she dove at his head, bringing the curtain of frozen rain behind her.

    Marrak flinched and she landed hard on his crown. Ice shot from her hands and plastered his back. His wings stiffened and drooped as they, too, froze over. Marrak heated himself, but Syra continued her icy barrage and they dropped.

    ��Now!�� called Syra.

    The twins swooped in. They latched onto his back, tucking their wings and bringing their full weight down on him. Syra scrambled and clawed at his head as the field approached from below.

    Damn it, Syra cursed as she scrambled to reopen the wound that was already healing. Green filled her vision and she begrudgingly released his head, flaring her wings before they crashed and skidded across the field.

    ��Cassius! Petra!�� She landed next to the steaming heap.

    ��We��re alright,�� said Cassius. ��We��ve done this before. Kind of.��

    Both twins crouched atop the fallen Marrak as if they had downed a giant skyray.

    But Petra startled and slammed a heavy hand onto his neck,��Quick! He��s waking up.��

    Syra reached for his head, but his eyes flashed open and a red dome shot out around him.

    Shit.

    It crashed right into her and sent all three flying back. Syra righted herself just in time to see the ice shatter as he rose back up.

    Great, now what?

    As he shook the ice away, battle cries called her attention to the adjacent forests. On either side of them, both rebel flanks charged in on them.

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    Oh, come on! Right now?

    Her wide eyes only spurred Marrak on, and he stalked towards her with a steaming grin.

    It was a faint bugle that called all eyes upward. Above, a flock of wings glinted below the clouds.

    They��re here!

    With another call, the flock split and dove at both flanks. Confusion sounded from their ranks as the wave of Kiithran washed over them, catching them up and carrying them up over the forest away from the battlefield. Some fought back, but the swords clinked against the bronze scaled armor fastened to their legs and undersides. All screamed. And all were eventually dropped into the middle of the river.

    Marrak hissed and thrashed his heavy tail, readying himself to spring. And then it fell.

    Crashing over Marrak, the wide web of metal pinned him down as its embedded morakii sent him into a shaking fit.

    ��Stay back!�� A familiar voice called out as a Kiithran landed beside Syra. ��It��ll arc if you get too close.��

    ��Razilah! You actually came.�� Syra beamed down at the armored Lahirem.

    ��Of course we did��thanks to you.�� She puffed her chestplate. ��Now, what should we do with him?�� She leered at Marrak but he just snarled at the squad of Kiithran around him.

    ��You can burn along with them, then.�� Marrak inhaled deep and clamped his vents shut. His skin blazed white-hot, but when no flame came the Kiithran relaxed.

    ��It��s alright,�� Razilah reassured Syra. ��It��s woven with steel and arrun fiber��magic won��t work.��

    But Syra shook her head as the net��s metal strands glowed red and stretched against his body, ��That��s the problem��he won��t need magic.��

    Razilah��s mane bristled as the net melted and snapped, ��Bashta.��

    Marrak roared as his restraints fell away and he took back to the air. This time scarring the ground with a jet of flame that sent the Kiithran scattering.

    ��What now?�� Razilah asked from under Syra��s barrier.

    ��We have to get those shards from his head. But I doubt our tricks will work again. Plus, the Inner Ring is right ahead.��

    That��s when she saw the shimmering wall. Just outside the ring, another barrier wall had been erected.

    ��I have an idea,�� Syra said. ��But I��ll need you to take care of the ground troops��keep the rebels away and take the fallen to the infirmary.��

    ��Understood.�� Razilah slipped from the barrier and led her squad to join the nearest flock.

    ��Cassius! Petra!�� Syra called the twins to her as she lifted off. ��I need you to take him head-on.��

    ��What?�� Cassius gasped.

    ��I��ll be right behind you, just like in Dorrak. I just need to get close enough to his head.��

    ��But he��ll hit you dead-on if you��re too close,�� said Petra. ��You can��t take the heat like we can. And even then����

    ��Did you forget how hard I am to hit?�� Syra teased. ��Plus, I can shield myself if need be. Now go!��

    ��But����

    ��Go!��

    Petra huffed a groan, ��Fine, bossy. Just be fucking careful.��

    As the twins sped off to pass Marrak, Syra zipped past them all towards the Inner Ring��s barrier. She sharpened her eyes and locked them on the outermost amplifier.

    Sorry, but I��m going to need that.

    The watchtower guards lost their aim as the bronze dart swooped down to snatch up the rune-covered artifact in tight claws. Pinching its aperture shut, she charged it until it buzzed angrily in her hands.

    Now, here we go.

    Flying up behind twins, she gathered rain around the amplifier, freezing it solid.

    ��Now!��

    They u-turned and flew straight at Marrak. As expected, Marrak greeted them with a blast of fire. But to his surprise, no barrier came. As the twins veered away from the flames, Syra appeared behind them with arm reared back. She stared the flames down, then hurled the ice ball into the inferno. She dove away as it disappeared into the flames. And then there it was.

    Boom!

    The explosion rocked the air and Marrak fell limp from the cloud of sparking smoke. Down he went, streaking through the air until he crashed just outside the city walls.

    The siblings circled from a safe distance, eyes strained for any movement.

    ��Did that do it?�� Petra asked Cassius.

    ��I don��t know. But his scales are glowing anymore. That��s a good sign.��

    Syra steeled herself, ��We have to go for it. This might be our last chance.��

    But as she neared him, Cassius saw the nearest dragonlance take aim.

    ��Watch out!��

    Cassius dove and Marrak��s hand glowed.

    Syra barely caught the glint of the red outline before Cassius was flung in front of the charging arrow.

    Cassius�� roar shook the air and bloodscent stung Syra��s nose. She veered out of range but remained transfixed on Cassius�� form hovering in the air with an arrow lodged in his thigh. Her breath caught and her skin went cold.

    No.

    The glow around him faded and he fell as Marrak lowered his hand.

    ��Cassius!�� Petra screamed and dove for him.

    ��No wait!�� Syra called.

    But Cassius hit the ground with a heavy thud and Petra flailed in the air, struggling against the red hold that drew her down into Marrak��s grasp.

    ��Let her go!�� Syra cried and bolted at him. But her dive only brought her colliding into his barrier and she crashed down next to Cassius.

    ��You really are crazy, you know that?�� Petra hissed as Marrak held her against the ground with a hand on her throat. ��No wonder your clan banished you. No one would want someone like����

    Petra��s voice caught as he pressed his weight onto her neck.

    ��Marrak stop!�� Syra cried from outside the barrier, but she could only watch.

    Petra squirmed against his hold and snarled up at him, but her eyes were frantic.

    He lowered his head to hiss in her ear, ��That��s enough, Petra.��

    His hand heaved downward and her throat cracked. And a scream that would fill a forest now came in burbles and hoarse rasping.

    ��Petra!�� Syra raked glowing claws against the barrier, but it merely shifted around like sand.

    Marrak now turned his fiery gaze on her and tossed Petra next to Cassius.

    Syra draped herself over the twins. Petra was still breathing, but it was shallow and labored. Cassius, however, was losing consciousness as the poison veined up his leg.

    Shit. I can��t heal him alone. But Petra, she ran her hands over her throat, sensing what she could. It��s almost completely crushed. She can barely breathe, let alone sing. Warmth pulsed from her hands as she willed the tissue to expand and heal. If I can just��

    ��Is this what you wanted?�� Marrak rumbled, startling her as he stalked closer. ��Because this is what you chose.��

    ��I did not choose this,�� she growled, feeling the spark rage in her chest.

    ��Oh, but you did��you chose to fight.�� His vents flared open, ��And these are the consequences.��

    He towered over her, and the glow in his chest froze her in place.

    He wouldn��t actually kill me, would he? Valen��he couldn��t��

    ��Just stop, this isn''t you!��

    Marrak paused to smirk down at the pleading wyrmling.

    ��It��s the shards! They��re making you�� ��

    ��Oh, my dear little Bug,�� he chuckled, the shards seeming to smile with him, ��I am him. I am all of him. No mask. No box.�� His eyes bored into her, ��No hindrances.��

    His throat swelled and Syra threw up a barrier just as flames erupted from his jaws. They crashed down, spilling over the golden dome. But Marrak didn��t let up. The shards shimmered and his red flames flickered with green and purple sparks that chipped away at the barrier.

    ��Damn it.�� Syra strained under its heat and force, and the barrier cracked.

    But then she felt a tickle on her back leg.

    ��Run,�� Cassius whimpered with a weak tug. ��Leave, now.��

    ��Nope. Not happening.�� She gave him a small grin, ��Not again.��

    More cracks splinted over them and Syra��s groans grew into a pained roar as heat built up inside her.

    ��Syra, enough. You have to g����

    ��No! I just have to think. I have to����

    A light tap tickled her other foot, and she glanced back to see Petra��s outstretched hand.

    ��Sing,�� Petra croaked, her own voice scarcely above a whisper.

    ��It��s like firebreathing����

    Syra recalled their singing lessons and turned back to Marrak. Through the ebbing flames, she saw him rear back for another breath��another blow. But her barrier wavered in complaint.

    This is the last one. One last stand. One last shot.

    She took aim at the stone flickering on his head. The faded one. The one her mother gave her.

    ��A sleeping fire still burns.��

    In that case, I might as well go out burning.

    She let the dome fizzle out, and channeled all heat and power to her chest, holding it there while it churned and boiled.

    Just a little more.

    A whimper escaped her throat and she tasted metal. Her scales buzzed and a high-pitched whine filled her head.

    ��Sing.��

    Marrak��s throat flared, and she opened hers. But this time, it wasn��t a scream, but a shrill tone like a crying violin. A sharp heat surged up her throat like steam. And as she clenched the top of her throat, she felt it. She heard it. The tingle and��

    Click.

 |Chapter 41| Heart of Fire (Pt. 1)

    The vibrating scales in her throat sparked, igniting the wave of charged air in a single white bolt. It sizzled the air, cutting through the plume of flames, and struck the shard on Marrak��s head.

    Marrak roared. And the shard cracked.

    Boom!

    The explosion threw him backwards and Syra crouched low against its shockwave.

    Yes! It hit! But, is he down? She strained her eyes through the smoke and rain to see a lump crumpled on the ground, dark and unmoving. And as she huffed back her breath, she smelled blood. Is he��did that actually do it? She couldn��t tell if he was breathing, but the light between his scales was gone.

    Oh, thank goodness, she let herself fall to the ground to breathe her strength back. But, what was that? She licked at the numbness in her mouth.

    ��You finally did it.�� Petra hushed to her with a weak grin.

    Warmth filled Syra��s chest as the realization set in, but the sight of Cassius�� limp body chilled it.

    Shit, that��s right!

    Syra scurried to Petra��s side to attend to her throat, ��Just hold on. I think I can restring most if it, but it��ll take some ti����

    ��He doesn��t have time!�� Petra rasped and shoved her away, ��You have to do it. Now. You have to����

    The ratcheting and spring of a dragonlance jerked their attention to the guardtower. They watched the arrow fly towards the ground��towards the black lump. And then they watched it halt and sputter sparks as a barrier rose from Marrak��s collapsed form.

    ��No,�� Syra squeaked, ��I thought he was��I thought I����

    Marrak��s body heaved upward, and steam rose as light returned to his scales. His movements were slow and heavy, and he shook his head as if waking from hibernation.

    You��re kidding me! Syra gawked as he stumbled to his feet. That blow only knocked him out? But how?

    Marrak��s hand pawed at his forehead. But when his claw met the gaping wound above his eye, he flinched. A low growl filled his throat and he turned gleaming eyes back at Syra. Above them, four shards also glared at her.

    ��Petra,�� Syra whispered down at her, ��you have to tend to Cassius.��

    ��But I can��t����

    ��You have to try. It doesn��t have to be perfect��just keep him alive until I get back.��

    ��If you get back.��

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    Syra nuzzled her snout against Petra��s cheek, ��If not, then ask Vesna when she gets here. She��s bound to know something.��

    ��No, you can��t! If he survived that, then there��s no way you can����

    ��But I have to.�� Syra smirked down at her, ��That��s what leaders do, right?��

    For the first time, Syra saw the gleam of admiration in her sister��s eyes. She soaked it in, letting a weight lift from her chest as one of her boxes released itself.

    This is fine.

    ��Now, go.�� She nudged Petra towards Cassius before locking her gaze on Marrak. ��I can at least hold him off.��

    She stalked forward, head low, frill raised and quivering a warning. Her scaly lips drew back as a loud hiss escaped bared fangs. But Marrak only stood taller, stepping forward with a dipped head and flared wings. The spiny ridge down his back stood on end, and his neck vents fumed like an angry teapot. Even the fleshy bits by his jaw spines swelled red.

    He��s actually taking me seriously, now. Guess that means I��ll have to be even more careful. She dug her claws into the dirt and charged her chest again, letting it build at the bottom of her throat. But at least I know it��s possible. If I keep striking at his head, even if the shards don��t shatter, I can at least blast them off of him.

    Syra��s scales hummed and Marrak filled his chest. The air around them buzzed and sizzled. There truly were no words this time��only the lashing of Marrak��s tail gave the order: Come.

    Syra charged and dashed to the side, drawing his jaws away from the twins. She ran along Marrak��s flank, staying out of range. I can��t use my barrier when attacking, so I��ll have to keep my distance. I think my bolts can reach farther than his flames, but��she halted and took aim at Marrak��s face, can it even penetrate his barrier?

    Opening her throat, she sang forth a lightning bolt that cut the rain and struck his barrier dead center.

    The red dome wavered as the bolt sparked and threatened to bore a hole straight through. Yes! Almost there. Syra clenched her core and amped up the power.

    But then Marrak widened his stance, and the dome shifted��it thickened and stabilized as the back-half merged forward. And Syra��s bolt sputtered and thinned.

    Damn it. I really thought it would��

    There was a click and Marrak��s barrier wavered as an arrow flew from the guardtower and embedded itself into his exposed thigh.

    Cheering erupted from the tower as Syra''s bolt fizzled out.

    They actually got him!

    Marrak''s barrier faded, but he remained standing. His lip twitched��more from annoyance than pain��and his neck vents sealed shut. His hide radiated and steam clouded around him. Then, he reached back and plucked the arrow from his side. He hurled it at Syra, and it skittered across the ground to her feet, lying there like a wilting flower. The arrowhead dribbled over in its molten state, and even its austrum tip was tarnish black.

    Shit, did it even break the skin? There was indeed blood on the shaft, but it was black and crumbling, baked on from the raging heat. But the poison��it has to be affecting him, right? She studied him from across the field, but he showed no signs of wavering. Surely some made it inside, she consoled herself despite knowing that such heat would disrupt its effectiveness.

    Marrak flared his vents and the dragonlance cranked again. But Marrak turned his jaws on it and leapt into the air, bringing a full aerial sweep crashing over the tower.

    Now!

    Syra bolted through the air towards Marrak, icy claws extended. But he reared on her, and her barrier came too late.

    The fiery current washed over her and this time, she did scream. Images of the burning forest flashed in her mind as her own scales burned her skin. She dove, squinting through blurred vision, and caught herself just as she smelled the mud below. She tumbled and slid, writhing in the mud like a branded boar to cool her melting scales.

    Fuck, it hurts!

    She grit her teeth against the pain and craned her head to watch Marrak soar off over the wall.

 |Chapter 41| Heart of Fire (Pt. 2)

    Aidan emerged from Hydrius Tower just as Marrak swooped past the terrace. The line of battle mages fired their shocksticks, but their barrage only sparked against his barrier and the wind almost billowed him over.

    ��Sir!�� An alchemist knelt at his side but he waved him away.

    ��Go!�� He clutched the heavy bundle of wire against his body, ��We got this.��

    The alchemist ran off towards the workshop doors as Aidan and his guards heaved the line of wire onto the terrace.

    ��Where are they?�� Aidan scanned the dark sky, but only saw Marrak��s shadow as it ignited the watchtowers one after another. ��Damn it.�� His eyes searched the canopy for any glint of bronze, but the rumble of wheels forced them back to the terrace as the blue-steel canon was hauled out of the workshop.

    ��Mount it here!�� Aidan called, tugging the wire towards the terrace edge.

    As the alchemists lodged the wires into place, Aidan dumped the pouch full of mana stones into the rotating chamber. His gaze turned skyward and locked onto the needle jutting from the tower��s peak.

    ��Come on,�� he urged the churning clouds.

    They rumbled a warning and his lips curled back.

    ��That��s right. Come on, now!��

    His arm hairs bristled as lightning pulsed downward and struck the needle. The wires whined and sparks spat back at Aidan. But the chamber turned, and the stones clacked and crackled around inside. Faster and faster it spun, until it hummed from the mana building up within the iron chamber at the barrel��s base.

    ��It��s working!�� One alchemist cried, eliciting cheers from the others, and distracting them from the shadow that rounded on them.

    ��Aim! Now!�� Aidan commanded, and the narrow barrel swiveled towards Marrak. ��Aim straight at his mouth!��

    Marrak loomed closer and Aidan held his breath.

    Then, light crept up Marrak�� s throat and his jaws parted.

    ��Now!��

    The trigger clicked and a beam of light erupted from the barrel. It hit dead center and a flash filled the sky, sending a shockwave through the rain.

    But as Aidan blinked back his sight, a red blur swooped overhead in a flurry of wingbeats.

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    ��Damn it.�� Aidan cursed as Marrak��s barrier dissipated with the smoke. ��We��ll have to try something else.��

    He threw the chamber latch open, singing his fingers. But his alchemists only stood stiff and watched as Marrak banked back around.

    ��We have nothing else, sir,�� one whimpered. ��That was our one shot.��

    Aidan snarled and scanned the horizon one more time. But this time his gaze landed on the glowing tip of a shockstick.

    ��No, it wasn��t.��

    Scooping up the staff, he ripped the morakii from its perch and jammed it into the chamber.

    ��No!�� cried the alchemist, grabbing Aidan��s hands. ��That��s too much! It��ll�C��

    ��Then leave!�� Aidan stared them all down. ��All of you. Go! Now!��

    He slammed the latch shut and swerved the barrel around, locking his aim at Marrak��s head��at the four stars shining in the gloom.

    Aidan��s skin buzzed as the morakii raged inside the spinning chamber. Its metal creaked and cried, and a misty halo hovered in the vibrating air. The alchemists ran. The mages ran. But all eyes lingered on the motionless prince, including Marrak.

    The red wall came again, growing larger and larger with each wingbeat. But Aidan held steady. If this truly was his last shot, he damn well wasn��t going to miss.

    ��Steady,�� he coached himself.

    The metal siding of the tower gleamed red as Marrak closed in.

    ��Steady.��

    Then the rain sizzled.

    ��Now.��

    The blast from the chamber blew half of the barrel clean off as the beam bore straight through Marrak''s barrier.

    Aidan flew back, tumbling across the terrace. His vision clouded and his ears rang, but Marrak��s pained roar couldn��t be clearer. A clear roar that grew louder as Marrak fell atop the terrace, careening into the tower��s side.

    Aidan scrambled away as the terrace floor collapsed into the floor below and dislodged stones fell from their tower. His body chilled as the tower leaned ever so slightly. But when the quaking stopped, it remained standing. Below it, Marrak��s body lay steaming, but still. Blood pooled on the stone by his massive head, and a faint light twinkled among the debris.

    ��Is that?�� Aidan rose on shaky legs and scrambled over to where the dim crystal flickered up at him. He picked up the blood-smeared shard and clenched it tight in his hand.

    ��Is it��finally over?�� he asked himself, staring at Marrak��s fallen form.

    Cheering erupted from the far side of the terrace as mages and alchemists came out from hiding, and a weight seemed to lift from Aidan��s chest. A reprieve that was, unfortunately, short-lived as a low rumble shook the air and stone around them. Aidan thought it thunder at first, until Marrak��s head lolled over and three stars blinked down at him from the gashing wound.

    ��Oh, for Erd��s sake.�� Aidan breathed a whine and Marrak��s eyes shot open.

    His pupils flared until they focused on the man in front of him.

    Aidan drew his sword, but Marrak��s mouth curled into a wry grin.

    ��Well, isn��t this familiar?�� he groaned. ��Another brave prince,�� his eyes locked on the austrum blade, ��another��drahgrashi.��

    Aidan��s stance faltered as Ethan��s face flashed in his mind.

    ��Heh,�� Marrak chuckled and shifted to his feet, ��your blade may be blue, but your horns are still green.��

    Aidan steeled himself as Marrak rose. But then he grinned as a small glint appeared in the sky behind Marrak.

    ��This time is different,�� Aidan said, his sword gleaming blue as he drew it back. ��This time, justice is golden.��

 |Chapter 41| Heart of Fire (Pt. 3)

    Marrak��s throat glowed and Aidan charged. As expected, Marrak��s barrier rose to meet him. But Aidan kept watch on the approaching spark. When he felt the air vibrate, he dashed to the side, slicing through the barrier and sliding behind debris just as the bolt of lightning sizzled overhead.

    The bolt struck Marrak��s exposed flank and he howled as his stony hide splintered off. The remaining shards pulsed at his brow, and he roared at Syra as she darted past him.

    ��I��ve had enough of that!�� The shards surged and red light lined his hand. ��I��ll just have to make you listen.��

    As Syra banked around the tower for a second shot, her outline glowed red.

    Shit!

    Her throat fizzled out as she diverted her mana to her skin, forcing her own barrier out against Marrak��s. Sparks flew in auroras as the two plasma fields pushed and ground against each other.

    Come on! She returned to a straight glide and focused her concentration on boring into a few select points. If I can poke a few holes, maybe the whole thing will shatter.

    But the weakened areas only gave Marrak��s hold more grip, and Syra��s back muscles screamed as her wings struggled to rise.

    It��s so heavy.

    Syra strained against the gravity of Marrak��s pull and her wings lost their lift. Marrak slammed his hand down and Syra fell with a force like an ocean wave behind her, crashing down onto the terrace.

    She couldn��t tell which came first, the sound of shattering stone beneath her or the fracturing of bone, but the sound of her scream was certainly the loudest.

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    Her head spun and she gasped back her breath in between screams of pain surging from her left wing. She forced her eyes open, squinting against the rain, and whimpered at the crumpled mass lying limp under her.

    ��Don��t worry, it��ll heal.��

    Syra whipped her head around as Marrak��s blurry form came into focus. Cold shot through her body and she heaved herself to her feet, pulling her fractured wing close to her side. Her back spines raised and her frill stood on end. The pain in her wing dulled with each heavy step Marrak took towards her, shaking the stone beneath her and filling her nostrils with her own fearscent. Her whole body shook. It cowered. Like the rabbits she loved to hunt. Rabbits that ran.

    I need to run. Her eyes darted from Marrak to the terrace edges. But where? The closest ledge is feet away�Ctwo steps and he��ll have me. And Aidan! Shit, where��s Ai�C

    ��Run!�� Dashing out from behind the debris, Aidan drew the glowing blade against Marrak��s unguarded side. Steam trailed behind him as the layers of stone raged red and peeled away from the blade. Finally, steel met flesh and Marrak shrieked.

    ��Go now!�� Aidan called Syra out of her stupor.

    Marrak��s gaze snapped to Aidan who bolted for the ledge opposite Syra.

    Seeing Marrak distracted, Syra dashed for the ledge. She surged mana into her injured wing, urging it to heal as it slowly unfurled. She winced against the dulling ache but kept her gaze on the ledge.

    Over and up.

    Clambered over the guard wall, she dove off the side. Her wings caught the air and she swooped skyward. But her left wing quickly faltered from the strain, and she dipped left, rounding back towards the tower.

    No, come on! I need you to work. She focused on the ache by her shoulder, then the throbbing down her wing, to the sharp pinch at the third digit. There it is. Using the pain to guide the mana flow, her wing gradually stiffened and she righted herself just in time to buzz the tower.

    She scanned the terrace for Aidan, but saw no sign of him. Or Marrak.

    Shit. Where��d he�C

    Searing light bore down on her as a wave of heat caught her right wing. She squealed and banked a hard left, craning her head upwards. Smoke stung Syra��s eyes and Marrak��s shadow dove. She barely glimpsed the hooked talons before they slammed the breath from her lungs.

 |Chapter 41| Heart of Fire (Pt. 4)

    Her vision blurred, and all sound dulled to just her heartbeat and the rush of wind as she plummeted groundward. There was no time to struggle. But as the canopy rushed up for her, her gut heaved as she lurched upward. Marrak��s talons tightened around her and heavy wingbeats filled her ears as he drew them skyward.

    Her chest screamed as she writhed to breathe. Every muscle raged against his infernal grip that melted scale and flesh. Searing pain wrecked through her body and her claws dulled themselves on stone scales. But her muscles quickly lost their strength as the burning city grew smaller below them, and the air thinner.

    As the valley came into full view, her body rebelled into a limp lump indiscernible from captured prey. Her resistance now quelled, Marrak loosened his grip and Syra wheezed back her breath.

    ��This is what I am fighting for,�� he boomed over the mountains and valleys barely visible through the rain. ��Beyond Altaira and beyond the Elder peaks��we must be ready for what��s coming. And for that, I need you.�� He craned his head down at her, but any hint of sympathy was lost to the rain and her lightheadedness. ��So, answer me again, little one. Will you help me?��

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    She had just enough breath to snicker.

    Help you do what? Burn cities across the continent?

    She focused on his massive head looming over her, dripping with rain and blood. She searched his face, his eyes, for that quiet sincerity so familiar to them. But their shine was lost to the gleaming of the stones above them and her chest ached as much as her skin.

    I don��t even know who I��m talking to right now. Valen, or the stones?

    Then you have your answer.

    Syra��s head tingled as a calm voice echoed deep in her mind.

    Her eyes darted about, searching the haze for yet another imposing shadow. But all she saw were angry clouds.

    The stones flickered, tiring of her hesitation, and Marrak turned a saddened eye to his ex-apprentice, ��So be it.��

    He dropped his head and heaved himself downward towards the splatter of lights below.

    Panic filled Syra��s chest. But as gravity returned, the flicker of an evening bug clipped her vision, drawing her gaze upward.

    A shrill whine filled her ears as her scales hummed a warning. The thread of lightning slithered across the belly of the thundercloud and buried itself in the plume above. Waiting. As if calling for her answer.

    Panic focused itself at the base of her throat and every muscle buzzed.

    So be it.

    Squinting against the wind, she squirmed and stretched her snout out from under Marrak''s broad chest. And then, with all the air left in her lungs, she sang light to the sky.

 |Chapter 42| Of Shadow and Iron (Part 1)

    Wake up.

    Syra roused to human screaming and the encroaching ripples of firelight on water. Her wings twitched and strained to unfurl, but buckled as her muscles gave out. Shit. With a groan, she heaved her mana forward. A thin barrier just wide enough for her head flickered, then shattered on impact.

    Her breath shot from her lungs and the chilling water sucked the heat from her limbs as she sank. Around her, the water vibrated as the crash of falling debris filled her ears. Focusing on the sound of rubble and screaming, she craned her head upwards and twisted until her claws met the muddy bed. With little air left, she stretched out her wings and launched herself upwards like a swimming bat.

    As her snout broke the surface, her nostrils stung of smoke and burnt wood. She huffed, spat, and dragged herself from the water to find herself lying springside of the academy pond. Evening sunlight filtered through the haze and her eyes froze on the ruinous structure at the far end of the pond�Con its familiar rows of windows below gold-tipped towers. But now, half of the academy��s dormitory wing lay scattered in the streets or underwater. And in front of her, at a mockingly close distance, their maple tree lay broken and burnt under Marrak��s scaly, crumpled mass.

    Syra instinctively flattened herself against the bank, but her breaths still came heavy and loud. She sharpened her vision against the mist for signs of movement, but not even steam rose from his body this time.

    Her muscles threatened to relax, but she continued to scan his shadowed form for any stubborn flickers of crystal light. Still, nothing. No light. And no breathing.

    Did��did that actually do it? Was that fall enough? With his bulk, his landing must��ve been brutal.

    The details were hard to distinguish through the fading drizzle, but his ribcage flexed and bowed in the wrong directions, and she could smell his blood on the grass. All along his spine and flank, a branching gash splintered his scaly hide like bark from a tree, leaving it to ooze over exposed bone and charred muscle.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    That must��ve been from the lightning strike.

    The scent soured her tongue and stomach, and a wave of guilt and grief panged her chest. Was that how Mother died? She recalled a similar scene in her mother��s memories as she now faced the fallen form of her mentor. Her throat tightened and she clenched her jaw against the cry bubbling up inside.

    He deserved it, right? She let her head fall as she gasped and hissed at the memories of head pats and fiery blows battling in her mind. He started this�Che started a war. We had to stop him��I had to stop him. He wouldn��t listen. But neither did I. All he wanted me to do was listen! But would that have mattered? Would that have changed anything? People were already dying�Cor dead! And he almost killed�Cshit. Petra��Cassius! I have to get back!

    ��Syra!�� Aidan��s voice cut through the pounding in her head.

    She whipped her head around to see a faint glint of light cast upon the rumble as the scuffle of boots grew louder.

    ��Over here!�� Her throat burned but hearing him grunt and heave past the wreckage made her chest just a breath lighter. He��s alive.

    ��It''s okay, I''m fine!�� She forced herself to her feet and limped along the bank, her fractured wing tucked against her side.

    ��Don''t move, I''m coming!�� With a chorus of groaning, Aidan appeared from behind the shifting wood and stone with several soldiers in tow. One particular burly redhead with hands for both a longsword and healing hurried after Aidan with a Southwater green witch on his heels.

    Syra��s face cracked with joy, ��Rimmel! Nelly!��

    Their eyes shot wide at the sight of her, but Rimmel quickly held up a firm fist as they rushed around the pond.

    ��All eyes on the downed one! Surround him, but maintain distance!�� Rimmel commanded the war mages behind him.

    ��And you sit right there, you hear!�� Nelly called out to Syra, her face covered in dirt and sweat. ��That wing looks nasty.��

    Syra winced as a chuckle escaped her throat. You should see the burns. Warmth returned to her chest as she watched her best friend rush to her like she did the first time Marrak attacked�Ca budding apprentice with arms full of blankets and bandages. But this time, her face was fierce, battled hardened, and her hair slicked back with blood-streaked sweat.

    Syra ached to collapse and fall asleep to Nelly''s gentle tending, even if it meant a harsh scolding later. But her promise to Petra screamed in her ears, and she pushed past the wave of exhaustion and continued her forward hobbling. But as a cloud passed over the sunset, a shimmer under Marrak��s dark hide made Syra��s body freeze. She tilted her head and leered down into the crater around Marrak��s head. Smushed into the mud but as clear as the evening star from this angle, the edge of a single shard flickered in dim defiance.