After we returned to the other bodies, I’d grabbed last intact crabstone, and Hinte’d placed both of the humans on my back for me. For a few steps, I thought I’d at long won our argument about carrying equal weights. As we set off again, my legs buckled under the weight and I slumped over. Hinte growled a complaint, and shuffled the bodies between us again. I was following farther behind her than earlier. As we walked on, I dwelt on the more than two forefeet difference in length between us, the muscled thickness of her legs, and her wider frame. She even stood taller than me! When I sighed, the lake air had begun cracking the numb shell of the respira. We marched on all the same, and along the way, we passed the spot where the human had blinded me. The glasscrabs had all left, leaving only the stinking rag and the dim pink cryst. I felt the distant shudder of the other crabstone every few heartbeats, a far cry from what it had felt like before the crabs devoured it. “Hinte, do you want to get that other cryst? It feels kind of pathetic — but it’s something, right?” I pointed my wing at the cryst. Hinte tossed her head in indifference. I slinked over at the dying cryst, then placed it in my bag. “Oh, and did you want the remains of that other blinding orb thing? It couldn’t hurt to have two to study, right?” “Bring it.” “Okay!” I squeaked. I scooped up clay shards of the orb before putting them in my bag. After I returned to Hinte, she started walking again. I settled into step beside her. Prodding her with a wing, I gave her a smile. “We make a nice team, don’t we?” She tossed her head, but nodded after a beat. “You aren’t so tongueless when you stop to think.” I beamed at her compliment. With my tail, I reached into my left bag, feeling its contents. Only the crysts I gathered, and the gem. “I hate that the only time I come with you everything goes wrong and you ended up with almost no crysts.” Hinte looked away, wings shifty as she considered my words. A few moments passed before she replied. “I had a feeling something would go wrong, this time. It is why I allowed you come along.” I waved my tongue. “Huh? You knew something would go wrong? How?” Hinte looked down at the lake skin. Glass gushed up under her feet, but she adjusted her steps. “No, I did not know,” she said. When she looked back to me, her teeth were visible, though her fangs had retracted. “It was… Call it superstition or intuition. Do not worry about it.” “You… you could have at least told me. You never tell me anything.” “You never listen. I told you it was dangerous. I told you that you would get hurt.” “Being dangerous is different from having dangers. There is glass and cliffs and maybe I would get burned or fall or something. But you never said anything about olms, rockwraiths, humans or any of this!” My wing moved to my neck, feeling the bandages over the knife wound. “I could have died. So many times.” “No, I was right there. I would not let you die.” I looked up, wings drawing together. There had to be something to say to that. But it never found its way to my lips. The talk frayed apart. The surface of the lake grew rugged and hilly again. At first it looked like we might have come back to where I met the first sifter, but no blades of dustone stabbed up, and the bands of dustone never grew more pronounced. The winds whipped up again, tossing dust at us and soughing through unseen crevices. Hinte’s frills expanded, adjusting forward and back. “Do you feel that, Kinri?” I flared my frills before my eyes cleared and a drop of curdled fear came to my fangs. “More whistling. Hinte! I thought you killed all the humans?” “I did. This human could not have been above the overhang.” I looked around, waiting for another monster to jump out of the vog. When I spoke, I hid my fangs and turned away, so Hinte couldn’t smell my fear. “Well, what are we supposed to do now? We can’t fight them like this, with this much weight.” Hinte punched the ground. “And we cannot leave the bodies when the human might steal one again.” I looked around. “So we run?” A high, throaty laugh came from behind, followed by, “Oh! What we running from?” I yelled, leaping across to land behind Hinte. I crouched on the ground, my head swerving around to find the human. “It is a dragon, Kinri.” “Oh,” I said, standing up without looking at Hinte. I looked around until I caught sight of a yellow-brown dragon in ragged-white sifting suit. “Hey, it’s you again.” “Again?” Hinte turned, waving her tongue at me. “Um.” I broke eye and lowered my head as I said to the sifter, “Can I tell her? She’s trustworthy.” The sifter waved a wing. “Go ahead. She’s obviously on the same road as us.” They still spoke with that odd, artificially saccharine voice. I didn’t know what to make of it. I gave Hinte my best cloudy-eyed, flatten-frill look. “So um, when I was watching the body, this sifter⁠ ⁠—” “Mawla. Miss Mawla.” Her frills folded up, clinking slightly. “Okay. Mawla came up and we talked for a bit but she told me not to tell anyone.” I did a double take at the yellow-brown dragon. “Wait, you’re a wiver?” She rolled her head. “Obviously. Do you need to see my vent?” “Eww, no. Keep it covered, please?” “Your call. Why is it so surprising?” “Mawla sounds like a drake’s name,” Hinte murmured. “What?” Her frills snapped out with a harsh clack. “Nothing,” was said. Mawla rolled her neck and looked back to me. “Its just… your partner. They made it seem you were… you know.” Mawla’s dark eyes clouded. A wing rose to her face, and she said, “Obviously,” before muttering, “Dwylla’s rotting crotch. You make one sexy joke and they never forget.” “But why would they, uh, imply…” I twirled my alulae. “Oh well, you see, I had one of those sifting rods and some salve. So when Lilian had ripped her suit⁠ ⁠—” “Nevermind, I don’t want to know.” My tail constricted my leg. I licked my fangs. “What? Have you never had your cloaca —” “Gah!” I turned to Hinte. “Save me,” I whispered. Hinte frowned, but turned to the yellow-brown dragon. “Why are you alone in the lake?” she asked. “I can handle myself just fine.” Mawla’s frills were contracting. “But you had a friend, didn’t you? I’d think you two would have reunited by now.” “Ah yeah. I did, after talking to Kinri like he asked. But the ashwit wouldn’t stop nagging my head off about slinking off on my own earlier. Got tired of hearing it.” “Oh. That drags.” “It’s been a while coming. He’s absolutely insufferable, and I obviously couldn’t take any more.” It sounded familiar. If Hinte had pressed with how sifting on my own was such a bad idea, would I have gotten tired of hearing it, too? Would I have slinked back to Gwymr/Frina alone and friendless? “You should have stayed together. There are wraiths and apes out in the lake tonight.” “You can fuck right off with that.” The yellow-brown wiver whisked a wing. “There aren’t wraiths out this season, and you two took care of all the apes.” Hinte tossed her head. “It’s tongueless.” “Like I said, fuck right off. I didn’t slough one cat-tongued lout for another.” Hinte already had her fangs out, and she stepped toward the sifter. Distract her, unbalance her. I didn’t want a fight. “Hey Hinte,”⁠ ⁠—⁠ she stopped, half-turned⁠ ⁠—⁠ “Don’t you sift alone too when I’m not here?” “That is different. The lake is less dangerous by day.” “Then why are we here now?” “Because of the humans.” “But⁠ ⁠—” She growled at me. My cold, airy voice started, “Hinte —” Walking home alone, friendless. “—⁠ I’m sorry,” my normal, whining voice finished. “You’ve been doing this for longer than I have, you must know what you’re doing.” Hinte’s frills fanned, and she turned away from me. She turned away from Mawla too, stalking away from the both of us. Alone, Mawla looked at me, smiling with clear eyes. “I saw that. You were about to bite into her.” “I don’t bite.” “I mean with your voice.” She wagged her alulae. “Bare your spirit. Rip into her. You know.” “I didn’t want to push her away.” I looked over to Hinte walking away. “You⁠ ⁠—⁠ hey, what’s your name?” “Kinri.” “The sky-dweller? Huh. Small town. Well, Kinri, I don’t see why you don’t call your bets and let her on her way. She’s a fire waiting to burn something.” “She’s not all bad. We’ve just had a mess of a day.” “Like a storm. Yeah, I smell you.” The sifter flicked her tongue. “Still, her act reeks. You’re too nice for her.” “I don’t think so.” I looked up, then over to Hinte. I started after her, but glanced at the sifter. “You want to come with us?” “Dwylla no. If it were just you, I’d leap at the chance. But I’ve had enough of her for today. Catch you on the wind.” “Bye!” I said. And ragged-white figure was gone. When I caught up to Hinte, she had taken out her compass, righting her path. I spoke before she did, “I’m sorry again. It’s kind of ashy for me to fault you for not telling me things when I did the same to you.” I meant the apology; but a part of me couldn’t help but note just how well this move flew. She either had to forgive me for hiding things, or admit she shouldn’t have hid things from me. “You kept a promise.” “Um, I did,” I said. Hinte had looked away, staring off into the lake’s shroud. Hinte’s lantern had created something of a wall between us and the darkness. In it, it felt like we walked a little closer together. My ghost canteen dwindled, and after a while I turned to Hinte. She glanced at me once, twice, each a few moments apart. The third time, she spoke, “Kinri.” I turned to her, head tilted. “You have not bothered me about why I collect these crysts again.” “I sort of decided you must have a good reason for being so secretive.” She paused. “I remember. But we agreed I would tell you if you found five crysts. It was a promise.” “But I only found three.” She lifted her head. “No. You found one after you tripped. Three after you decided you were good enough to sift on your own. And one just before we ate my lunch.” We weren’t only counting the stones I found on my own? “I guess,” I said. “Wait, what about that other crysts I found, after we reunited and before the last one?” “I found that one, not you.” “Uh, no. That was definitely me.” Hinte jerked her head toward me, fangs out. I squeaked. “Okay, okay, you really totally for-sure found that stone. Can you tell me your secrets now?” I couldn’t help the eagerness in my tone. Would my last question alight for good? We walked in silence for a few beats before Hinte spoke again in a distant tone. “They are curiosities. They hum like instruments. So musicians will incorporate them in their acts. They glow like lamps. So the wealthy will use them as decorations.” I hummed an acknowledgment, and she continued. “But few will seek them out, as they serve neither purpose well. Crushed kakaros leaves are brighter, and milkmoth extract is a more reliable light. Even the hum is fickle, and crysts with pleasant vibrations are rare. And then, their glow and hum fades over time, dying in two or three moons.” I tilted my head. “Then why bother?” She waited a long moment before responding. “Certain collectors will buy them, after a property that is — not well known,” she said. Then, in a low whisper, “The idea is that crysts are magical. Anti-magical. Warping energies, disrupting or distorting enchantments.” She waved her wing around. Staring at her, I said, “What does that mean?” The dark-green wiver snapped her tongue, and she slipped a wing back to her bag while slowing to a stop. She paused for a moment. “You still have my knife,” she said. “Can you bring it out?” She reached deeper into her bag. Her knife was held in my alula, and she took it. From her bag, she’d gotten a metallic sphere, and it was pressed against the base of the knife. It came into place with a snap, and it was twisted. Shimmering green crawled up the black knife, emanating from the once-white streaks on the blade. “This is a magical knife. Its cuts will desiccate and atrophy any organic matter it penetrates. Pay attention.” The dark-green wiver took the limb from one of the apes on her back and sliced deep into it. Blood didn’t rush forth, and the skin around it fell blackened and cracked. The ever-present, ash-stirring wind acted moments later, blowing dust from the limb. In moments, it looked as if she’d carved away flesh some dances ago, instead of a making simple cut breaths before. The only break in the atrophied blackness of the flesh was the white of bone. “Now, watch this.” The dark-green wiver held the knife tight in her wings while she fell to her haunches. She pulled out a rod with a glowing tip that looked a cryst someone had bothered to cut and polish. It glowed, but didn’t hum. The wiver held it and did something⁠ ⁠—⁠ maybe a finger shifted, I couldn’t be sure⁠ ⁠—⁠ and then it hummed. Where the other crysts hummed low and discordant, this — whatever it was — sounded loud and… less discordant? The tones were focused and clearer in a way the others weren’t, without sounding pleasant at all. The knife reacted an instant later. The glow flickered, and wavered between green and an off blue, and dimmed until, for a moment, it was half-invisible. It was still dimming, slower, and when the green was all gone, Hinte swiped the blade against the ape’s opposite limb. Thick, clotted blood oozed out, but that was it “That is what it means, Kinri-gyfar.” Hinte pulled the little sphere from the knife, and held it out to me. “You’re giving it back?” “For now, you need it more than I do.” “But I don’t get the little death sphere to go with it?” “You’d cripple or kill yourself.” Huffing, I glanced away. Did I want to risk it? That knife could destroy me if I slipped up once. “Fine,” I said, kicking a pebble. When I looked up, Hinte had started walking again, and was glancing back at me. I started after her. Scratching my cheek, I said, “So, that’s anti-magic.” I looked up, licking my brilles. “Is that why that other stone in your compass was all wonky?” “What?” “I don’t remember the color. It was the only one that didn’t have anything to do with the poles, or any celestial sphere.” “The red one,” she said. “What does it do? Is it some kind of cryst-detector?” “No,” Hinte said, slapping a frill over a goggle lens. She continued in her lecturing, reciting tone. “It tracks the flow of the earth. It predicts earthquakes and eruptions.” “You need your compass to do that?” “No, but it is useful for navigating underground, especially in iron-smited caves. There are many in the cliffs.” “Oh, okay.” We walked awhile. A sound came in the distance, lost in the rattling and cracks. It might have been flapping or the wind. So I knew at last why Hinte sifted crysts. And it fledged sense that she wouldn’t tell me. Magic was poisonous and maddening. Whatever freaky reputation alchemists had, mages could be so much worse. I still don’t get why this was worth hiding from me. I was a sky-dweller, a House sky-dweller at that. We didn’t shun magic the same way Gwymr/Frina did. Looking up, I rubbed my headband. As I did, my mind slinked back over Hinte’s words, picking through implication. Other mages lived in Gwymr/Frina? Collectors, plural? I poked Hinte. “You were saying something about collectors and magic?” She lowered her head. “I collect the stones for them. But they are not common. You know the story.” I looked up to the black-dust sky, one phrase on my mind: The Inquiry. Hinte spoke first. “A jewel cutter, Glyster, is our⁠ ⁠—⁠ my only client until the white season passes.” “But then —” I started, but the words alighted in my mouth as a slender black form flew from the vog toward Hinte. And like that, we were hunted. * * *