“C’mon, Kinri. Let’s go.” She meant to the Dadafodd; she’d said that’s where we’d find the drake. “C’mon. My leg is getting done with me standing on it.” “Sit down, then.” “I’m not going to sit down, I⁠ ⁠—⁠ we need to get to Dadafodd so I can get my shit bandaged up.” “If you sit down, maybe your leg will feel a bit better when you start walking aga⁠ ⁠—” “We should start walking now! What the flames are we waiting for?” “Um.” My brilles clouded. “Just...” Staune piped up for me. Head out poking out of my pocket, she echoed my sister, repeating, “Rhyfel is flying this way.” “I⁠ ⁠—⁠ yeah. Uane said that.” Mawla ripped a claw through the gravel, gouging. “Fuck no,” said the sifter. “We’re leaving. Now.” “Whyyy?” Staune asked with some high scratch of a voice. “Not you too.” Mawla scowled as Staune was bobbing her bird head up and down. “What screaming reason could a bird have for wanting to see the high guard?” Mawla still had a that artificial high accent to her voice, but on that last phrase it dropped, turned to something frayed and ripped, sounding something like the nadir who spent their lives smoking yakah roots. “Feya. Slicktongue gone out to meet Guiltygrin, yes, but Guiltygrin doesn’t know Slicktongue keeps secrets from me. Him I can ask.” Mawla smacked her face with a wing, and held it there, alula digging into her scales. She let out a growl and spun away from me, looking out over the south side. Winding through a gully to get here, the cobbled road that came up to the southern gate had an east side look to it. You could drive a cart over it, but you didn’t really want to be in it when you did. That gully⁠ ⁠—⁠ it wasn’t wide enough to be a ravine, too narrow a ditch⁠ ⁠—⁠ had walls. Black bamboo holding up the sagging dirt banks, filled up with dustone like grout. It flared massively at the end, and created this big landing area in front of the gate. Mawla leant against the gully wall farthest from the gate, and I sat in the center. Ffrom and the other guard were still here, unconscious on the ground by the gate. They hadn’t stirred for quite a while. What had Uane drugged them with? “I don’t want to stay here.” “Why not?” “Doesn’t matter. I won’t be here when Rhyfel lights down. If you ain’t coming with me⁠ ⁠—⁠ I’ll have to leave by myself.” “Aren’t we friends, Mawla? Just tell me.” “No.” Mawla shifted her stance, put a wing down to act like a crutch. I dashed over there, stood beside her. “Please. Why can’t you tell me?” “Cuz you⁠ ⁠—⁠ you won’t want to sow time with me again. You⁠ ⁠—⁠ shouldn’t.” “And if I decide not to because you won’t tell me?” I nudged her. And then again, until she looked at me. “There are too many people keeping secrets, Mawla. Not enough being open with me. I don’t want to have to suspect you too.” She grit her teeth, and bit down on the things she could say. Glanced to the side, and saw Staune busying pecking at Ffrom. Looked up at the stars. Met my eyes gain. Said, “Fine.” I waited. Breaths came in and out. Time passed. “Fine you’ll tell me, or...” Her brilles were clouded. She looked down at the ground before they cleared. “Yeah.” She took a breath, her breast buffing up like with confidence, and she said, “Kinri, I’m⁠ ⁠—” She met my eyes, head high, and her neck was tense like it was a hard thing to do. “I’m a criminal. A wanted criminal.” I was looking into her eye. My brows furrowed, a little, but I didn’t flinch. I hoped that helped. “What kind?” “What kind⁠ ⁠—⁠ I, I don’t know. I just, I saw it on the posts today. The wanted lists. I don’t know how I slipped up⁠ ⁠—⁠ but I must have. They didn’t list a crime. Just my name. Just said I was need for questioning. An inquiry. With a dozen dozen aris reward, like a for murderer.” “Mawla⁠ ⁠—” “No, I get it if you don’t want to see me again. It’s⁠ ⁠—⁠ it makes sense. I’m not the type you want to associate with.” “Mawla, no. I⁠ ⁠—” “You don’t have to say it.” She was pulling away, doing that weird limp with wings as crutches. “I get it. I know. You don’t have to say it.” “Mawla. No. You don’t get it. You aren’t a criminal. You aren’t wanted. I know why you’re on the list, I’m why you’re on the list.” She’d looked around⁠ ⁠—⁠ just with her head, snaking it⁠ ⁠—⁠ but I looked down, didn’t meet eye. “It’s my fault.” I could see the wing cover her face in my peripheral, though. “Is this like before? You making up reasons to spit on yourself?” “No no no. It’s like, I went to see the faer last night, remember? I⁠ ⁠—⁠ she was just too perceptive! I didn’t want to tell her. I didn’t tell her. She just, figured it out. Read it off me.” “Tell her what? What you talking about? Be slow.” “The lake. You were in the lake, trespassing. The humans and everything. She thinks you might have had something to do with it⁠ ⁠—⁠ I told her you didn’t, but she still wants to question you.” Mawla paused. Like frantic, bubbling glass that just hissed the air. Like realizing you searched for rings to find the thing sitting obvious on the table. She grinned. Spinning around with new energy, the yellowbrown wiver lunged over to bop me on the nose, and drape a wing over me. “Well then,” she said. “Never the heck mind. This is fine. I’m fine. Don’t worry about none of this.” I could only say, “Huh?” “You know anything about how the sleepy faer operates? How she sends out Inquiries?” "...No?” She tossed her head. “Mlaen likes to send Inquirers up in your business at the buttcrack of dawn, Inquirers who’re just scratching for an excuse to drag you to Wydrllos a⁠ ⁠—⁠ Point being, this was a trick of chance, and I probably only skirted the Inquirers by dumb stupid luck. Spent the night at Lilian’s, got a day off work. Dumb stupid luck.” "...That’s a good thing? I’m⁠ ⁠—⁠ confused.” “It’s a good thing cuz there’s nothing to worry about now. They’ve got nothing on me. I know my rights, and know how to work around a confession. Trust me to help myself, got it? Trespassing in the fires with a bunch of invading monsters⁠ ⁠—⁠ it’s not even the tightest space I’ve flown in.” I clouded and cleared my brilles, my face all scrunched up. “You’re, uh, it’s like you’re in a whole different key⁠ ⁠—⁠ and I’m glad⁠ ⁠—⁠ but I don’t see how things have changed much?” She waved a wing and only said, “Assumptions,” like it was the whole answer. “A dozen dozen aris is like, high high high crime. The kind of crime where only half of you goes to jail cuz the other half sticks around in gossiping mouths. You wake up and see that under your name and you fly to the obvious conclusion.” “You didn’t think it was weird that you had a high bounty when you hadn’t done anything?” “Welll.” She looked away. “Flick. Put it this way: a crowd and a half of people have reason and half to want me somewhere dark in Wydrllos. I see my name on a bounty board like that, I don’t get surprised, I get thinking.” I still frowned at her. “Kinri-ann, I got this. Trust me. I’ve flown through worse than this.” “Really?” “Yep.” She grinned. “Don’t ask about the scramble with the leggy clams.” I blew my tongue, and tried not to laugh. That was⁠ ⁠—⁠ that. “Okay.” I looked around. The guards were still out⁠ ⁠—⁠ I guessed they’d be for a while⁠ ⁠—⁠ and the bird was strutting around for some reason. The stars still shone. “So, you’ll wait with me?” I asked her. Mawla scowled. “I still don’t want to meet Rhyfel.” “A high shame I gotta disappoint, then.” Mawla had her back to the road into town, she couldn’t see him. I could. At his savage grin, I frowned. “I didn’t hear all of it, don’t you worry. Whatever secret crime you to are up to’ll get dealt with just as soon as I’ve got less on my plate.” I glanced over to the hooded wiver, frowning into Rhyfel the younger’s face. I expected her to run, but she was staring him down, fangs out like she would spit on him. Then she took a step back. I jerked my head and saw why⁠ ⁠—⁠ the high guard hadn’t come alone. From that same mouth of the gulley measured forth a lightscaled drake in a poisonous-smelling⁠ ⁠—⁠ schizon-smelling⁠ ⁠—⁠ apron, and glasswoven robes that called to mind the faer’s. He flicked an agile tongue, and black eyes met mine with all the peering suspicion of an executioner. “Kinri.” He inclined his head. He didn’t look at Mawla. When he glanced at the scarlet drake, and saw he was still engaged in a staredown with the yellowbrown wiver, he looked back to me and asked: “Where is Hinte?” Like that, Rhyfel lost; the drake snapped his gaze back and popped his tongue. “Ease into it, Ushra, ease into it.” But he shook his head, and continued, “Or you know what, you be quiet and I’ll handle this.” Black eyes⁠ ⁠—⁠ the same black as Ushra’s⁠ ⁠—⁠ watched silently as the high guard smiled and spoke gentle. He said, “So. You two knew I was heading this way, didn’t you? And argued yourselves into waiting. Can’t say I’m not curious what’s goin on.” A single hisslaugh. “If that don’t infringe on whatever secret youse keepin.” “Um.” I thought about it⁠ ⁠—⁠ Uane would never trust me again if I told her out again, immediately. If I still wanted to be a Specter (did I want to be a Specter?), not answering that question would be my first step back in that direction. But. Uane could have killed these guards⁠ ⁠—⁠ she wanted to kill these guards. I couldn’t let that happen. Not again. She was a danger and the administration surely had to know about it? Rhyfel the younger wasn’t like Ffrom. He was high up. I could trust him. But Mawla said Uane still cared about. Could I really⁠ ⁠— “Kinri’s got a wicked sister. She got up in our business being murderous and mysterious. Knocked out those guards over there.” Rhyfel looked at me like it was my fault. Flatly, he asked, “Are they dead.” “No.” “Good. What does your sister want now?” My brilles clouded again, and my mind flew back over the conversation, searching for hints or tells. Mawla said, “She’s mad that Kinri didn’t kill Adwyn, obviously.” Rhyfel nodded. “And?” I just looked at Mawla, waited for her to answer my question. “Don’t know. They were speaking skyspeak by the end, but there was a tone to it. The kind of tone you take with your friend telling em you never want to see them again, secretly hoping they come to see you again.” Ushra tossed his head, and cut in. “And this sister knew we were coming?” “Yep. She knew all sorts of shit she shouldn’t.” “Did she know where Hinte is?” “Ushra.” “Oh, excuse me. Are you done with this azymous smalltalk, or shall you continue easing in for the next half a ring?” Rhyfel growled, just slightly in his throat, and for a breath his face hardened, but then it eased, he sighed, and gently he said, “Alright, fine. She’s your granddaughter, I’ll let you handle this.” A thin, thin smile. He snaked his head in my direction. “Now. Where is Hinte?” "...I don’t know? She left me earlier telling me she was going to do something I wouldn’t like.” “Do what?” “I don’t know!” “Do have you have any guesses? What were you talking about before?” “Prayer. I was asking her what she was praying for... and I mentioned I prayed for the guards...” I looked up at the stars, gazed deep at them, my mouth parting in surprise. “Oh. Oh no. I know what she’s going to do. No. She’s going to ruin everything.” “Where did she go, Kinri?” It was Rhyfel talking now, but I hardly distinguished. “I still don’t know! But I think I know where she’s going. The cliffs.” I breathed deep, in and out twice. I lowered my eyes. Looked at the high guard, the high alchemist. I said, “She’s going to hunt down the humans.” Ushra flicked his tongue. “For what purpose?” It was Rhyfel who spoke up. Not grinning, now. “Revenge, of coursee. The humans killed two guards. She refused to save them.” Smile. “Maybe she’s had a change of heart.” Ushra lowered his head. Brilles clouded, you couldn’t see his thoughtful black orbs. Tongue flicked, his mind played out only in the jerks and twists of his tongueforks. Not a scale or wrinkle of his face indicated. The light green drake was the older of the two, it was plain to see. Time piled on top of them, but Ushra felt so much that the graveness of time lingered, seeping and seething. It was the same graveness Rhyfel the younger somehow had, despite only being Mlaen’s age, but you could tell he was more than it. No one believed that savage grin of his (I hoped), but he still reached for the levity and care. Rhyfel had hope. There was still the hard edge of anger in his voice for the alighted guards. Ushra, obversely, hadn’t even flinched, hadn’t even spared a word or thought for them. I clouded my own eyes before any judgment crept into them. But I still had the image of Ushra thoughtfully, thoughtlessly considering. This is the drake Hinte looks up to. I didn’t know what to do with the thought or why I thought it. I wanted to ask her. But she wasn’t here. “So, how are we going to find her?” At that Ushra jerked from his thoughts, sliding his tongue in with a hiss. “You will not. We will,” he said, and turned around. A subtle twitch of his wing for Rhyfel to follow, but instead the high guard spoke up. “Fair question. Where would Hinte go to kill these humans?” The lightgreen drake had taken a step, but his strides paused. Unlike him, Rhyfel was opening a conversation, not shutting one down. They wouldn’t be leaving so soon. I thought perhaps a light green frill curled in on itself. He didn’t turn, not yet. “Hm. She’d go to the cliffs, wouldn’t she?” “It’s a whole country out there past the east gate. We ain’t going to find nobody with two rings’ head start.” “And she wouldn’t find the humans, either. They must be hiding.” “‘Course. So she’ll find some better way to hunt the humans.” Ushra slowly spun around with the kind of twist in his face that judged sharply. That said you were struggling to conclusions he’d tasted in a second. That asked why he should suffer your input. Then he looked to Rhyfel, who leaned comfortably against the wall and looked at me, and the ancient alchemist shook his head. “There are two drakes in this town who know more about humans than either of us.” Rhyfel frowned. “There’s the librarian⁠ ⁠—⁠ who else?” “Her Dozentin.” Ushra’s tail disturbed the gravel behind him. “The librarian and her teacher. Two drakes who know enough about humans. Neither of whom would help Hinte hunt them, but one of them is naïve enough for her to manipulate.” “Hinte has a teacher? Besides you? She’d never said anything about that.” But Rhyfel was nodding, and that was whom Ushra was looking at. Ushra asked, “Is there a reason you wanted the exile to hear all that?” “It’s her friend. No harm in her knowing what we’re thinking and intending.” “She is my granddaughter.” “They aren’t exclusive.” “And one takes precedence.” Then the alchemist looked at me for the second time tonight. He said, “Go home and sleep. Do not get yourself into any more trouble.” I replied, “Your advice is acknowledged. And appreciated.” I could have said something else. He turned around. “Do not appreciate it. Just remember Hinte would not want you getting yourself hurt again.” To Rhyfel, he said, “I am leaving. You can guess where I’ll be.” “Sure, I got some loose ends here. See you in a quick.” “Wait! Before you go, Ushra, um.” I thought back, considered my awful maneuvering⁠ ⁠—⁠ how had I forgotten? I shouldn’t have been so rude. Nothing for it. I continued, “My friend here is uh, hurt. Do you think you can⁠ ⁠—” “My services are not free.” No, then. “But she’s⁠ ⁠—” “Still alive. In no obvious pain. I do not see the necessity.” Ushra took another step. I felt a shift again, and I reached to pet Staune, but the lump on my back was just frabic holding a shape. The bird was gone. You’d think you saw a little form flicking through the shadows. None of us were sure until a fluttering shadow reared up behind Ushra and lighted on his high alchemist robes. “Hello again, Staune. I told you not to follow me.” Hinte’s voice. “Alchemists save dragons.” Staune was small and moved quick. Her feathered form ducked into a pocket of the robe, and she came flapping away, a jar of wiggling green held in her bird feet. She dropped it down on Mawla’s head with an “Ow” from the attacked party. Ushra had turned around one final time to watch this unfold. The angle was just right for the amber lantern light to illume his black orbs. Then he turned around again. Then he took off. He was gone. “What a spitting venthole with an venthole bird.” She had picked from the cobblestone the glass jar of die Heylpflanze jelly (it takes more than that to crack Gwymr/Frina glass), and was aiming at the fluttering bird. “Uh, Mawla?” “Wha?” She glanced over. “Staune was trying to help. That’s die Heylpflanze. It’ll help your injuries.” Mawla gave the glass a second glance. Then she leaned over and popped it in my bag (“Hey!”), and replaced it with a rock. She aimed true and wildly missed Staune. The rock bounced off the cliff wall, landed crack on the ground. Triumphantly, Staune lighted down on it. The yellowbrown wiver blew tongue at her before she turned a scowl at the scarlet drake lingering, watching with a slight smile. “So. Why don’t you get lost too? Your venthole buddy’s waiting for you.” “That he is. There’s just something I wanted to bring up with you two, p’raps you’ll find it of int’rest.” From slight smile to savage grin. “You see, there happens to be a warrant out for one Mawla ac Aludu Dymestl. Whom I’m allowed to detain by force.” She was very still. I leaned a bit closer, and saw that she was still breathing. “Three counts of petty theft, two assaults, six tresspasses⁠ ⁠—⁠ her record’s a mess. The charge right now is high trespassing and high treason. She’s been implicated in the Berwem mess.” I looked, peered at Mawla, brilles pale. She gave me a smile that grew very slowly, as if at each beat she decided whether to smile a little bit more. I don’t know how my look changed in response, but the smile soon faltered, and she looked away. Kicked a leg at Staune, watched her jump. “This could turn real sour for her.” I was looking between the high guard and the sifter. But Rhyfel was looking at me. Ignoring Mawla. Then, he smiled. “But Mlaen ain’t glassbrained. She knows a lowlife sifter without ten aris to her name isn’t the mastermind we’re looking for. It’s Wrang, without two doubts.” At last, the high guard looked at the hooded wiver, her face still in shadow. She was ten steps back from where she’d been. “There,” he said. “All my cards are on the slab. Why don’t you do the same, Mawla? All I gotta ask in three questions, then the investigation can all fall on Wrang where it belongs.” Rhyfel took a step toward her. “Or are you going to run away again?” Mawla looked sky up, then left and right. I saw the tension seethe out, and she slumped down. And she looked at the high guared. “Fine. I’ll answer your questions. Kinri can back me up.” * * *