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“How fast can you fly?” Mirelle paced on flattened grass, walking the same path again and again.

“Mirelle, take a breath.” Enora put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re panicking.”

Mirelle pulled away, and resumed her pace. “I am not panicking!” She jabbed a finger into Kurekka’s red-brown feathers. “How fast can you fly?”

The gryphon splayed out a wing, peering back at his crimson flight feathers. “You just asked that.”

“And you didn’t answer me!” Mirelle stomped, and then paced back the other dragon. She poked Chir’raal in the chest. “How fast can you fly?”

“You’re going to wear a trail into my meadow if you don’t calm down.” Enora nudged at the flattened grass between the two gryphons with her foot.

Chir’raal smirked over Mirelle’s head at his mate. “Faster than him, at least.”

“That’s a lie, and you know it!” Kurekka stretched his tan-furred forelegs, flexing his paws. “I am both faster, and more agile in the air than he is.”

Mirelle whirled around towards him. “Then you’re the one I’m riding to go after Revaramek!”

Kurekka squawked, his scarlet crown feathers flicked upright. “You want to fly on me?”

Mirelle shivered, her stomach twisting around her spine. “Don’t make me think about!”

It was bad enough when she flew with Revaramek. At least she’d grown to trust him. The last time she flew with him, when he’d carried her here, she’d actually felt safe in his grasp. The way he’d cradled her had been as gentle yet protective as she imagined he’d have carried his own child, if he had one. But the gryphons? The way they wheeled and spiraled in the sky made her want to vomit just watching them, let alone riding them during such an ascent. And that was before she even started to think about whether or not she could actually trust them. To say nothing of the fact that they both had perfectly good reasons to ‘accidentally’ send a council member tumbling to her death.

“Oh, god, now I’m thinking about it.” Mirelle stumbled away and hunched over, willing herself not to retch.

“At least you’re off that panic path you were wearing in my poor grass.” Enora joined her, gently rubbing her back.

“Wasn’t…panicking.” Mirelle grimaced when her belly tightened.

“No, dear, of course not.” Enora patted her, and then slipped away. “I’ll fetch you some whiskey.”

“I don’t need any whiskey.”

“Rum, then. And some genever. Cause you’re going to need something to calm your nerves.”

Mirelle straightened up, glaring at Enora’s back. “I’m not panicking!”

“I meant for the flight.” Enora waved a hand. “And before you drive me crazy.” Enora scooped up the four books left in Asterbury’s wake, dusted the sand off of them, and headed for her home.

Mirelle grit her teeth, then turned to gaze at the two gryphons, who were now sitting alongside one another. “So…I’ll fly with you, Kurekka, and Chir’raal, you’ll stay here with-”

Chir’raal’s raucous, squawked laughter cut her off. Then he clicked his beak, glaring at Mirelle through narrowed topaz eyes. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“I am.” Kurekka clicked his own beak. “I’m the boss of him.”

Chir’raal flicked his wing open to cover up Kurekka. Kurekka squawked and batted at it while Chir’raal spoke. “We’ll all be going, cause you sure as hell can’t talk Enora out of it.”

Kurekka pushed Chir’raals wing partway aside, then poked his beak through some of the feathers. “You may want to change your clothes first, though. You’re not exactly wearing appropriate nighttime flight apparel.”

Mirelle looked herself over, smoothing her hands across her borrowed green and gold clothes. Scattered blood and grass stains now marred both the blouse and the skirt after their earlier battles with Aylaryl and her insane accomplice. She poked a finger through a fresh hole, shivering, half-wondering if that was how close Aylaryl’s claws had come to rending her skin.

“Suppose you’re right.” She gazed at the two gryphons again, face twisting. “So…you’re all going? I wasn’t sure if you’d…want to…you know.”

“Revaramek is our friend.” Chir’raal pulled his wing back.

Kurekka tilted his head. “Aylaryl is also our friend.” He made a show of inspecting his feathers rather than meet Mirelle’s gaze. “We’re going with you to make sure they don’t kill each other. And…because…we don’t know what Asterbury might do, while he’s in that state.”

Mirelle folded her arms, glaring at the gryphon. “And what about Asterbury? Is he your friend, too?”

Kurekka shifted, looking as if he wished he could just bury his head in his plumage. “Well…gray area…”

“Kurekka couldn’t fly if not for him!” Chir’raal fluffed himself up, a display of gray and black. “Enora would be long dead!” He flared his crown feathers, showing off the indigo spots marking them. “Aylaryl would still be alone. So yes, he’s our friend. But…” He trailed off, then glanced at Kurekka. “Sometimes even a friend goes too far. We’re not gonna let him hurt Revaramek.”

“And what about my village?”

Chir’raal snapped his head back around, giving Mirelle the calculated gaze of the bird of prey he so resembled. She suddenly felt far too much like a hare caught out in the open. “Well, that depends. If say, we were considered citizens, why, the three of us might be far more inclined to help you protect it.”

Kurekka twisted his head around to peer at her in a nearly identical way. “We’re going to protect our friends from each other. But my love is right, if Enora’s banishment was commuted, if they were willing to welcome us instead of trying to shoot us down-”

“Weren’t you shot down because you were raiding them?”

Kurekka spread his scarlet crest feathers. “I shouldn’t have to tell you of all people how tramautic it is to fall. He healed my wound, but sometimes I still feel that bolt hit me, I still have nightmares of hurtling to the earth, screaming, thinking I’m going to die. If they didn’t want to be raided, they shouldn’t have stolen our people’s land!”

“The point is…” Chir’raal nuzzled at his mate’s feathers, smoothing a few down and soothing the other gryphon. “If you expect us to do more than help you protect Revaramek, you’re going to have to consider doing something for us. Asterbury will be far less inclined towards localized destruction if it’s our home he’s ruining, as well.”

“Not just us.” Kurekka returned the nuzzles, nibbling Chir’raals ear. Then he flicked a wing out, gesturing with it in a sweeping gesture. “That village, all your villages. They should be open to everyone, starting now. Gryphons, dragons, va’chaak, urd’thin.”

Mirelle growled through grit teeth. “This is hardly a suitable time to negotiate your citizenship status!”

Kurekka gave a weary sigh, ruffling himself. “I’m trying to help you give him a reason to want to spare your home.”

“I shouldn’t have to give him a reason!” Mirelle gnashed her teeth, resisting the urge to tear out her hair. Or Kurekka’s feathers. “How can you consider someone like that a friend?”

“Because in all the decades we’ve known him, this is the first time we’ve ever seen him act like this!” Chir’raal waved his paw, hissing, his feathers bristling across his neck. “He’s always been a bit off, yes, but he’s never been dangerous around us! Haven’t seen him much in the last few years. He and Enora and Aylaryl used to journey together all the time, and visit the Va’chaak, but lately Asterbury and Aylaryl haven’t been around that often. He’s been…he’s been peaceful for a very long time. It’s as if…knowing what happened to Aylaryl, the more he cared about her, the more it ate away at him.”

Kurekka warbled, draping a red-brown wing across his mate’s back. “Believe it or not, he hasn’t exactly consulted with us about his plans. There was a time, years ago, he used to talk to Enora about starting her own council to reshape the villages someday. They wanted to find a way to let the va’chaak and all the other displaced races return home. But I didn’t expect him to show up someday, and tell her he’s making her Head Councilwoman!” He shook himself, feathers rustling. “Look, arguing with us isn’t going to get you ready to go any faster.”

Mirelle unfolded her arms and pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Fine, fine. We’ll talk about this later.”

“I don’t see why, it won’t solve anything.” Chir’raal swished his tail across the grass.

Ignoring him, Mirelle turned away from the gryphons and hurried back to Enora’s house. The sun had already been low in the sky when Asterbury left with Revaramek in his power. It would be long after dark before they even reached the fishing village where they’d first encountered him, let alone her home. She wasn’t sure the gryphons could fly all night, anyway. They’d need rest, and much as she hated to admit it, so would she. She’d just have to hope Revaramek would be alright until she reached him. Hell, what was she going to do then? They’d have to cross that bridge when they came to it. Assuming of course, Asterbury didn’t set th bridge on fire at both ends while they were halfway across.

At Enora’s house, Mirelle slipped in through the open door. She glanced at Enora in the living room as she passed. The older woman was searching through her bookshelves. She’d tossed a few on the floor. A large pack heavy with supplies sat nearby, along with a few other articles and items she’d collected. Mirelle moved into the room she’d been staying in, where her own clothes were.

It was the same outfit she wore the day she first left on Revaramek’s back to go chase after the ‘bandit’. A pair of black leather breeches with gray lacing, and a dark golden tunic with her village’s fist and shield emblem. She’d washed them recently, and they almost looked as if she hadn’t been wearing them whilst falling out of the sky into a marsh, and stomping a dragon back to life. A smile tweaked the corners of her mouth. They’d saved each other. What a strange world it was sometimes.

Mirelle stripped out of her borrowed clothing, and pulled her own things back on. She didn’t have anything else to take with her. The safety harness she’d had made for dragon-riding hadn’t survived their first encounter with Aylaryl. Her pack with all her supplies and things was long gone, lost after the same battle. She stepped into her boots and laced them up.

When she was dressed, Mirelle left Enora’s house, and made her way to one of the storage sheds that hadn’t been destroyed in the battle between dragons. She retrieved a long coil of sturdy rope, and as she headed back towards the gryphons, she tied a few knots into it. She’d make do with a simple rope to serve as safety catch. She’d have to tie it carefully so as not to allow too much slack in case she fell. She didn’t want the rope to save her only to break her back. The thought made her shudder. Such a thing was small comfort, but she’d take it over no comfort at all.

“I hope you don’t plan to tie that thing around me!” Kurekka gave an indignant squawk as she approached. “I’m not cargo to be lashed and bound.”

“Behave yourself or I might tie it around your balls!” Mirelle wrung the rope between her hands. The coarseness of it irritated her skin.

“I don’t have to let you ride me, you know.” Kurreka curled his tail, covering himself with its spread feathers. “I can leave you here.”

“You know what, Love?” Chir’raal nudged Kurekka with his beak, then waved a forepaw at Mirelle. “I think we should leave her here.”

Kurekka canted his head, gazing at his mate. “We could, couldn’t we. Take Enora, make sure Revaramek’s alright. Leave Mirelle here to wonder what’s happening while we’re gone.”

“You can’t do that!” Mirelle snapped the rope taut. “Revaramek is my friend, and I won’t leave him to that madman’s whims!”

“And you have yet to offer us citizenship, or annul Enora’s banishment.” Chir’raal preened his left wing, pulling free a black-barred feather.

Mirelle snarled and stomped her boot against the already flattened grass. “Damn it, this is not the time to-”

“Asterbury’s not waiting until the time is right, you know.” Kurekka mimicked his lover, preening his right wing. “But if you’ve already made the offer by the time we arrive…”

Mirelle grit her teeth as she wrapped the rope around herself. She knotted it tightly. “I’m only one person. I don’t have the authority to unilaterally-”

“By the time we arrive, you may be the only person left alive on that council if Asterbury hasn’t calmed down. All we’re asking is for you to offer us an official truce, for now.”

“You’re not asking, you’re extorting me.” She tugged the rope, testing it.

“You said it yourself, we’re raiders.” Chir’raal squawked laughter, and held out his paw. “Give us a reason not to be.”

“Or a reason to think your council should be saved.” Kurekka held his paw out the same way, pads up. “Revaramek thinks you’re a good person, and that’s reason enough for us to take you at your word. However forced it may be.”

Mirelle reached out and set her palms down, one on each gryphon’s pads. “Fine, fine! Seems I don’t have a choice. So very well, I hereby offer you a truce on behalf of my village’s ruling council.” Then she snatched their forelegs around their wrists, holding tight. “If and only if you disavow your raiding ways, swear to never again rob, steal, or otherwise bring harm, financial or physical, to any of the village’s citizens. And if you assist in the village’s protection from its current existential threat.”

Kurekka glanced at Chir’raal, giving a low warble. “Typical councilwoman, sticking a bunch of additional conditions into what should have been a simple pronouncement.”

Mirelle kept her grip upon their paws, glaring at each of them. “Yes, or no?”

Kurekka tossed his head, crown feathers rustled. “Fine, yes! So long as your word holds true, and the other council members don’t see fit to rescind the truce. And so long as permanent citizenship can later be discussed.”

“Because blackmail is a fine bedrock upon which to found a people’s citizenship, right?” Mirelle slapped both gryphon’s paws. “Fine! It is so sworn. Now hold still so I can tie this damn rope around you.”

Chir’raal yanked his paw back, snorting.

Kurekka peered at his own pads as Mirelle worked her way around him with the cord. “You’re pretty good at that political stuff.” He perked his ears, giving his mate an open beaked smile. “Never been part of a truce before.”

Mirelle knotted the rope around Kurekka, just ahead of his wings. “I’m gonna kick you both in the balls, later.”

Kurekka grasped the knot around his middle, testing it with a few tugs. He inclined his head towards his mate. “Start with him.”

Chir’raal squawked, his eyes wide. “Whaddya mean, start with me?”

“I already got one from the dragon.” He swiveled his head around to glare at the other gryphon. “And instead of defending my honor afterwards, you fled. So.” He chirped and smiled. “Start with him.”

Mirelle yanked the safety rope, giving the knots a few tests of her own. “I’ll certainly take that under consideration when the time comes.”

“Is everyone ready?” Enora called out from her doorway after her closing the door. She had switched her own dress for dark breeches, a long-sleeved blue tunic, and a heavy cloak lined with red-brown and black barred feathers. She also wore what looked like some sort of strange glasses propped up upon her head. In each hand, she carried a pack. “Because the sooner we get there, the safer Revaramek’s going to be.” As she neared the group, she stopped and stared at the ropes. “What the hell have you put around poor Kurekka?”

“A safety catch, in case I fall.” Mirelle cringed and shivered, her stomach tying itself in larger knots than the ropes. “I had a harness, but I’m afraid your purple friend ruined it.”

“You’re not going to fall.” Enora sat a pack down at Mirelle’s feet. “Here. Supplies and things.”

“What if he drops me?”

“Drop you? Oh no, I’m not going to wear my forelegs out carrying you around like a child.” Kurekka warbled his amusement. “You may ride on my back like Enora does.”

“But isn’t it…safer?” Mirelle wrung her hands, glancing down at the pack. “I had a harness when I rode on Revaramek’s back. The other times he just…carried me, against his chest.”

“Like a hatchling?” Chir’raal’s chirping laughter joined his mate’s. “That’s adorable! He must think you’re helpless.”

Mirelle jabbed her finger into Chir’raals chest. “I assure you he knows better than that.”

The gryphon grunted, staring down at her finger. “Then I guess he cares enough about you to want you to feel secure. There’s no safer place to be with a flying dragon than cradled in his grasp. It’s how the adults carry their young. Or, I suppose, humans they wish to keep safe.”

Mirelle’s jaw hung open a little. Revaramek had carried her that way every time. Even the very first time he yanked her into the sky, he’d clutched her to his chest. In her terror, she hadn’t realized just how safe she must have been. Only later, after the fall, had she grown to know the security of being held in his forelegs. No wonder he seemed so pleasantly surprised when she asked to be carried that way. She knew she’d trusted him then, but she hadn’t realized how deep that trust must have seemed in that moment.

“I, on the other paw.” Kurekka clicked his beak. “Have no intention of hauling you around. You’ll ride on my back or you’ll stay behind.”

“You’ll be perfectly safe.” Enora walked around Chir’raal, smoothing down his feathers in a few places. “I’ve ridden these two ragged plenty of times.” She shook a finger at Chir’raal’s beak. “No jokes.” Then she glanced at Mirelle. “There’s a cloak in that pack, I suggest you put it on.”

Mirelle crouched down and opened up the bag to retrieve the cloak. “Is it cold, flying at night?”

“Yes, but more importantly, they fly a lot faster than a dragon.” Enora fished something out of her own pack, and then shoved a collection of leather straps, bronze fixtures, and glass lenses into Mirelle’s chest. “You’ll want these.”

Mirelle held the strange things up by a strap. They looked like some kind of bizarre spectacles a mad scholar might wear whilst doing his arcane research. “What the hell are they?”

“Flight goggles.” Enora pulled her own pair down over her eyes. “Asterbury and I designed them. They’re based on something he saw in another world, where humans often fly on the backs of gryphons and dragons. I didn’t need them as much for Revaramek and Aylaryl, but for these two…” She waved a hand at the gryphons.

Kurekka gave a low, proud whistle. “We’re a lot faster than scaly lumps. And you haven’t got flight membranes to protect your eyes like us winged creatures do.”

Mirelle buckled the goggles around her head. She propped them against her forehead for the time being. “This is going to terrify me, isn’t it.”

“Probably.” Enora crouched down to dig in her bag again.

“Just don’t vomit.” Kurekka glared at her. “If you’re sick on my feathers, I’m going to cut that rope with my talons and do a few loops.”

Mirelle’s belly puddled in her boots. “That…doesn’t help.”

Enora pulled a flask from her pack and passed it to Mirelle. “Here. I promised you rum, now drink up.”

Mirelle took the silver container and opened it up. She sniffed at it, cringing as the harsh scent burned her nostrils. “This smells like scorched sugar.”

“I didn’t say I was giving you good rum.” Enora crouched back down to dig in her pack again. “Just drink it. You clearly need the courage.”

With a scowl, Mirelle forced herself to down the bad rum. It was worse than she expected, but with a little effort and a few extra breaths, she gulped a few mouthfuls down. Just as quickly, she put a hand to her stomach as the stuff immediately started burning a hole in her.

“Ugh. That’s awful. I wouldn’t serve that in my tavern for free” She passed it back to Enora.

Enora snatched it out of her hand, then took a few pulls from the flask herself. “Does the trick, anyway. If we all come back from this alive, we can celebrate with the good spirits.”

“I was hoping you’d sound more certain about the survival part.”

“Oh, I’m certain most of us will survive.” She tucked the flask back into her pouch, glancing up at Mirelle. “He likes us.”

“Very funny.” Mirelle worked her tongue around her mouth, trying to ease the lingering burn.

“It wasn’t a joke. Now, normally I’d advise you to press yourself to the back of Kurekka’s neck while he flies.” Enora pulled a book from her pack, and held it out to Mirelle. “But if I were you, I’d be busy reading this for as long as you’ve got light. If you press it to his neck and hunker over it, it should keep the pages safe from the wind.”

Mirelle took the book in both hands and looked it over. Faded lettering ran down the worn spine. She could just barely make out what looked like some kind of publisher’s mark at the top. Looked like hands around a book. She flicked to the first page, read the first sentence.

“This is one of the books from before. One of Asterbury’s.”

“It is.” Enora hoisted up her pack and shouldered it. Then she walked to Kurekka’s side, gesturing for Mirelle to join her. “Come here, I’ll show you how to mount a gryphon.” She shot Kurekka a glare before he could speak up. “No jokes!”

Mirelle turned the book over in her hands a few times. “This isn’t the same one you gave me before, though.”

“No, it isn’t.” Enora glanced away, staring at the setting sun. “I changed my mind. I think it’s important you know this version of the story. It will help you understand. Whatever he’s doing…you won’t stop him unless you understand him.”

“If you say so.”

Mirelle set down the book to put on her own feathered cloak, and shoulder her pack. Enora helped her climb onto Kurekka’s back. With the other woman’s assistance, it was not difficult. Enora showed her where to grasp, and where to put her feet, and before long Mirelle swung her leg over the gryphon’s back. She settled in, just ahead of his wings, her safety rope tight around her middle. His feathers were very soft, and very warm. He felt solid beneath her. He was a little smaller than Revaramek, so she could squeeze her legs against him. It helped her feel just a little more secure.

“There, how’s that?” Enora patted Kurekka’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, I suppose.” Mirelle wriggled a little bit.

“I was asking Kurekka. He’s never had to fly with cords tied about him.” Enora passed the book up to Mirelle.

The gryphon shook himself. Muscles rippled beneath her. “It’s fine. I’ll try to fly gently so she doesn’t repaint my plumage.”

“Hilarious.” Mirelle pointed to something in the grass below her. “Fetch me that first please, Enora?”

Enora bent over and picked up the wood-splitting maul Mirelle had taken as her own. She smirked up at the younger woman. “You know, this isn’t a weapon.”

Mirelle held her hand out for it. “It is now.”

Chuckling, Enora passed it up to her. Mirelle took it, and worked its handle under the safety rope to keep it in place. “Is that alright, Kurekka?”

The gryphon glanced back at her, ruffling up his feathers. “It’s not the most comfortable, but it won’t bother me. That’s fine.”

“Thank you!” Mirelle stroked the feathers of the gryphon’s neck in gratitude. Since he didn’t seem to mind, she petted him a little more while Enora mounted up.

Once Enora vaulted up onto Chir’raal’s back, she gazed around at the others. “Everyone ready?”

Mirelle grit her teeth. She pulled her goggles down over her eyes. “Let’s go!”

*****

“They’re shooting at me!”

Lord Asterbury stood atop Aylaryl as she circled in the sky. Despite the rolling of her muscles and the heaving of her wings, through all the turns, spirals and dives, he remained unfazed. He stood as steady and balanced as he would be on level, solid ground. A few crossbow bolts whistled past Alyaryl’s wings. A volley of arrows sliced through the air on either side of her head. Aylaryl dipped a wing and spun over the city, blue lightning crackling at her wingtips.

“Asterbury!” Aylaryl glanced back at him, hissing. “I said they’re shooting at me!”

Asterbury flicked an ear back, glancing at her face. “Yes, dear, I noticed that when I saw all the arrows flying past us.” He shook a finger at her. “But you did burn down their council hall and a bunch of their guard houses. What did you expect?”

“I expect you to let me land and deal with them before I catch an arrow in the throat!”

The urd’thin waved his hand. “Oh, they’re not going to hit you.”

Aylaryl spun back the other way, diving towards a cluster of thatched roof buildings alongside a muddy street at the base of the village hill. Arrows hurtled through the air where she was a moment earlier. “I’m not you!”

Asterbury leaned forward to pat her neck. “But you’re with me and I’ll keep you just as safe.”

“Are you sure? You’re awfully distracted right now, they’re getting closer than usual!” She beat her wings, swooping low over a few rice paddies on the outside of the village’s walls, sending started farmers shrieking and running for cover from the lightning storm that wreathed her. Though Asterbury had slowed her back down, the tines of jagged light lingered. “And it creeps me out when you do that! Can’t you at least pretend as though the laws of nature apply to you?”

Asterbury gave a heavy sigh. Aylaryl could be so difficult sometimes. He straightened up and waved his arms about, wobbling back and forth. “Oh, no! I’m so unsteady up here! Please, be careful when you turn, I’m just a little urd’thin!” He stumbled around on her back, leaning left and right. “Any moment now, gravity and centrifugal force could tear me off of you and cast me down to my certain death!” He flopped into a seated position, straddling the base of her neck. “Happy now?”

“Delighted.” Aylaryl’s voice was flat. “Think I’d be happier if you’d landed on your balls.”

Asterbury swatted the back of her purple-scaled neck. “Now, now, Aylaryl, let’s not be rude. We can save our bad manners for our enemies. Speaking of which…” Asterbury jumped back to his feet. “Line me up with Mirelle’s bar!”

“I don’t know where that is!”

Asterbury pointed, and jagged streaks of blue light crackled across the sky. “That way!”

The female dragon circled back around the town again, repositioning herself to fly across it. “You know as much as I enjoyed the sense of speed that got us here, I’m not really sure who’s flying who, anymore. And your anger-lightning is starting to scare me!”

“Nothing to be afraid of.”

“Asterbury, I know what happens when-”

“I’m in full control, dear.”

“But back at Enora’s-”

Asterbury snarled through grit teeth. The fur along his spine prickled. “I said I’m in control!” He took a deep breath, and cast his hands out to either side. The lightning intensified around them, and for a few heartbeats, Aylaryl hurtled around the village, just beyond the outskirts of the palisade wall. “Now head for Mirelle’s bar, circle it a few times so I can line up my shot.”

“So you can what?”

“You want me to calm down, right?” Asterbury slowly lowered his spread hands. The lightning whirling around the dragon eased as she streaked across the town. “I need something to help me relax, so it’s time for a bit of sport!”

As Aylaryl slowed down, Asterbury pointed to the large, bell-tower topped building within a large wooded grove, set back from one of the village’s main lanes. “That place! Poor girl’s designed her inn based off pictures from other worlds, and she doesn’t even know it.”

“Doesn’t really fit in, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t! Circle it a few times, let’s do something about that.”

Down below, a woman and green and gray va’chaak scrambled across a flagstone path leading from the front of the inn to the road beyond it. Together they worked with a crossbow almost as large as Asterbury. Poor, misguided fools. Toying with relics of hidden atrocities committed before they were even born. He let them play with their antique. If they had time to get a shot off, they’d miss anyway.

The dragon circled Mirelle’s tavern, and Asterbury held out his arm out straight, his fingers stiff and pointing at the building. He murmured to himself, glanced at the distant chariot of lightning carrying his temporary captive along, then looked at the building again. He circled a finger in the air for Aylaryl to make another pass, then smiled to himself as he lined up his shot.

“Bet you a severed head I can take that tower right off!”

“What the hell would I do with a severed head?” Aylaryl spun around once more, body rolling beneath him as she pumped her wings. “Even if I was dumb enough to take your bet.”

“It’d be a nice trophy!” Asterbury stretched an arm back towards Revaramek. He slowly curled his fingers into a fist, easing the lightning back from around the green dragon. As the blue light faded, Revaramek slowed. Asterbury opened his fist again, tilting his hand to aim the dragon’s swift descent. “You could stick a chain through it, make a lovely necklace!”

Revaramek careered towards the earth, unable to tear himself from the path Asterbury set him upon.

Asterbury stretched his arm back, he made a motion as if grasping a ball. He imagined the dragon stuck within a giant sphere, guided by his hand. He swung his arm down, tucked his elbow, and opened his hand as if releasing that sphere to roll along a narrow lane, right towards the bell tower atop Mirelle’s inn. As Aylaryl spun away from the building, Asterbury pivoted on her back to watch Revaramek race towards, it, flailing in the air.

Mirelle’s friends dashed for cover as their benevolent overlord smashed into the top of the tavern. The green dragon exploded through the bell tower. Wood blew in all directions. The bell tolled, signaling Asterbury’s bullseye. Revaramek tumbled across the roof, leaving a yawning chasm where the tower once stood. As the dragon rolled off the battered inn and onto the patio beyond, Asterbury jumped up and down on Aylaryl’s back.

“That’s a strike!” He cackled, balling up his fists and thrusting them into the air. “Do you know how hard it is to aim a dragon at a bell tower without demolishing the whole building?”

“Surprised you didn’t just toss him right through the front doors, bring the whole place down.” Aylaryl laughed, glancing back at him.

“I might want to have a drink there later.”

“Does that mean you’ve calmed?”

“Dragon bowling does soothe the nerves…” Asterbury smiled, but only for a moment. His voice twisted into a snarl. “But now it’s time to find Jekk.”

Aylaryl banked wide, circling around the expansive village atop the large hill. “You gonna kill the bastard this time?”

“Undecided.” Asterbury pointed towards the charred wreckage of the Council Hall. “There. Land in front of what’s left of that.”

“Jekk’s in there?” Aylaryl swooped towards the hill’s summit. “Archers, Asterbury!”

“No. But crawling into the hiding place of rats is beneath a noble, anyway.” As the archers below loosed their arrows, the entire volley missed Aylaryl, whistling past on either side of her. Asterbury snatched the nearest one out of the air, gesturing at himself with it. “A noble would have the rats brought to him.”

“Actually, I think a noble would prefer not to be in the company of rats at all.” Aylaryl touched down on her hind paws upon the soot-stained courtyard. She trotted to a stop, giving Asterbury a sharp-toothed grin. “Or have someone else exterminate them on his behalf.”

“Stop stepping all over my dramatic epithets.” Asterbury hopped from her back, charred grass and ash crunching underfoot. “This place is a mess. I’m getting soot all over my boots.”

“It’s already all over my paws.” Aylaryl lifted up a front paw, staring at it. Greasy, dark gray ash stained the blue scales. “Going to need a bath after this.”

Asterbury gazed around the hilltop’s summit. The Hall of Law where he’d surprised Jekk and the others now lingered as a blackened, smoldering husk. Some of the smaller buildings around it remained mostly intact, as did the tall palisade of logs cut into sharp points. How cute. They must have thought they’d cut the local dragon and gryphon population so deeply they’d never have to worry about being attacked from the air. Either that or they assumed their precious guardian slave would protect them from anything else that could fly.

“Or maybe they’ve just gone soft.”

“Who are you talking about?” Aylaryl curled her tail around her hind paws, settling onto the ash-covered courtyard.

“Who do ya think?” Asterbury snarled to himself. “I was just thinking, there must be have been a time when this place was more fortified.”

Aylaryl hissed, arching her neck. “There was. Less people, but more weaponry, more walls. Bigger weapons.” Shouted commands echoed from further down the hill. “The guards are coming.”

“Yes, I know they are. I suspect Jekk and his men decided to cut ties with all they once were, when they thought themselves safe. All the better to keep their secret. They probably sent that weaponry elsewhere to help conquer another story.” Asterbury held his hand out towards the wall. “Let’s see if they still feel safe.”

The palisade split apart. The sharpened logs flew into the air, one by one, and whirled overhead. As the logs shot into the air, they revealed a very startled looking squadron of guards, with blue and red tabards over their armor. Some wore chain mail under their uniforms, others wore dark leather with bronze studs. Every man had either a longbow, or a crossbow, and each had a variety of other weapons as well. Some of them stumbled away from the splintering palisade. A few others loosed arrows and bolts. Every shot missed.

Asterbury flicked his fingers back down. The floating logs upended, and rocketed back towards the earth, point first. In an instant they buried themselves into the ground all around the guards, two dozen immense spears hammering into the dirt in the span of a breath. They pinned the men into a small area, and then still more massive projectiles embedded themselves to fill in the gaps.

“Well, gentlemen?” Asterbury strode up to the cage he’d crafted for the storyteller’s bodyguards. “How safe do you feel now?” He snorted, leaning forward to peer through a crack between logs. “Where’s the old man? Where’s Jekk?”

The trapped guards all spouted the usual clichés. We won’t tell you anything! Let us out of here! You won’t get away with this! Wait till me old gran gets ahold of you! One of them even jammed his crossbow up against the crack Asterbury peeked through, and fired it at the urd’thin’s face. Even at point blank range, the bolt missed. It passed between his ears and Asterbury didn’t even blink.

“Yes, that’s what I expected. You’re probably good men. Brave enough to try and kill me even when I’ve just done the impossible. So if you play along, you’ll live long enough to get to serve the new council. But for now, I need Jekk. So…” Asterbury pointed at a few guards in turn. “Eenie, meenie, miney, this asshole.” Asterbury flicked his fingers up, and the man who’d tried to shoot him rose into the air with a strangled scream. The urd’thin waved his hand sideways and the man tumbled through the air and crashed against the soot-covered hillside. “Now, Brave Mister Shoot Me in the Face, you’ve got a chance to save your comrades’ lives.”

The guard pushed himself up to his feet with a pained groan. His leather armor creaked. He clutched at his side, wincing. “Get plowed, you mangy little nutter.”

“Yes, yes.” Asterbury brushed back the fur of his face with both hands. “Heard that one before. Now, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to go and find me Jekk. Then, you’re going to bring him…” He trailed off, glancing around. “No, not here. This place is dreary. Do you know where Councilwoman Mirelle’s tavern is? Afraid it’s a bit in need of renovation now, but there’s a lovely, peaceful garden behind it. I’m going to go relax there with my friend, and when you’ve dug the old man out of his rat-hole, you’ll bring him to me. Because if you don’t…” Another dozen palisade logs floated up, circling above the penned-in guards, their sharpened points aimed at the men trapped below them. “I’m going to make skewers out of your friends. And roast them over your freshly charred corpse. Then I’ll blast your colony apart bit by bit until I find him anyway. Clear enough?”

The man didn’t even respond. He glanced at the wooden cage, then turned and ran off down the hill.

Asterbury smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He poked his finger in the air a few times, and then dragged it in a curved line. Bright red color sprang to life across the wooden cages, forming two big dots for eyes, and a large, smiling mouth across the outside of the logs. “Cheer up, boys. You’re probably going to live, so you may as well learn to laugh at life’s foibles.”

Cackling, Asterbury, turning back towards the dragon. “Besides, it could be worse! Your whole world could be rendered uninhabitable by someone else’s selfish mistakes! Speaking of which…” Asterbury leapt onto Aylaryl’s back in a single bound. “Let’s go have a moment to ourselves to try and relax while we can. Otherwise I’m liable to vaporize Jekk before I get to ask him anything.”

Aylaryl glanced back at him, spreading her wings. “You still haven’t told me what you saw in that book.”

A shudder wracked Asterbury to his core. Every fur he had stood on end. He bared his fangs in a silent snarl. “Something I thought impossible.” He held up his hand to forestall any further questions from his old friend. “For now, I just need…” The urd’thin sighed, settling at the base of the dragon’s neck. He laid his furred head against her warm scales. “For now I just need a moment’s peace with you.”

Aylaryl smiled as she leapt into the air. The wind from her wings drowned out the cries of the trapped guards below. “I’d be happy to give you that.” As she ascended, she glanced back, mischief glinting in her silver-white eyes. “Though, it would be easier if you hadn’t dumped Revaramek there first.”

“Seemed like a good idea at the time.” Asterbury leaned over the side of the dragon, calling out to the guards penned in below. “Oh, stop your terrified yammering! You need to learn to laugh at yourselves! It’ll help keep you young, I promise!” He flicked an ear back, scowling. “Oh, no. That’s functional immortality, I’m sorry. I always get those things confused!” He patted Aylaryl’s neck. “You remember where Mirelle’s bar is?”

“It’s the one in the distance with the big hole in the roof.” Aylaryl banked towards it, muscles rippling beneath the urd’thin. “Hard to miss a building you hurled a dragon through.”

“Oh, I only rolled him across the top of it! If I’d hurled him through it, you’d be chastising me about breaking his limbs!” Asterbury shrugged and folded his arms, his ears perked. “Or his neck!”

“Woulda made things easier.” Aylaryl pumped her wings, houses and cobbled lanes whipping past beneath them.

“And here I thought you wanted him to live!”

“I meant the limb thing!”

“Oh?” Asterbury licked his gray furred muzzle, smirking. “You’re not afraid he’s going to beat you next time, are you?”

“If he had a broken leg, I wouldn’t have to kick his ass again.”

“If you had your way, it wouldn’t be his ass you were kicking.”

“Now there’s a thought.”

“And speaking of our benevolent overlord, look at him with little army, charging up the street!” Asterbury draped an arm around Aylaryl’s neck, hanging to the side to peer down at the city below. The green and copper dragon ran up one of the main streets towards the summit. The va’chaak and a human woman from before were right behind him. “Why, he must have at least two minions! Ah, I remember the heady days when I only had a servant or two to my name. But at least he’s trying. Maybe he’s starting to realize what he is!”

“Aylaryl!” Revaramek’s voice echoed up to them as they soared overhead. “Get down here so we can have a climatic confrontation! Don’t make me come up there!”

Aylaryl curled her head to spit fire down at the dragon far below. “Nuzzle my ass, Revaramek!”

Asterbury perked an ear. “Nuzzle your ass? That’s a new one. You dragons have the most colorful bawdy insults.”

Aylaryl angled her wings, descending in a spiral towards the expansive back garden behind Mirelle’s tavern. “He’s going to follow us, you know.”

“Of course he is.” Asterbury pushed himself up to his feet as Aylaryl swept in over the line of pine trees separating the tavern patio from Mirelle’s private grounds. “If I thought he was just going to fly off I wouldn’t have let him go.”

The purple dragon spun sharply in the air, and Asterbury leapt from her. The ground bent beneath him, absorbing his impact. Ripples rolled across the earth. The water in the small springs splashed. As Aylaryl landed nearby, Asterbury gazed around. Mirelle had made herself a lovely, peaceful place. If not for the town, it might have been just as serene as Enora’s isolated home.

A line of towering pine trees blocked off most of the city from view. Ferns with fronds taller than he was filled in the spaces between the pine trunks. A trio of spring-fed ponds reflected the fading sun. Trickles of bubbling water flowed from them into a small stream that wound through Mirelle’s property. An old wagon with chipped blue paint sat near a circular building. Larger trees with wide, leafy canopies surrounded the rest of her property. Vegetables and herbs grow in disorderly rows.

Near the springs, buckets and soup pots littered the ground. Asterbury nudged a wooden bucket with his foot. A few towels and clothes hung from branches and lay across rocks around the springs. He glanced back at Aylaryl, perking an ear. “A bath might be nice, later. Rinse the grime from my fur.”

Alyaryl padded across the grass. “Might help you relax. Though I don’t think you’re gonna have the time before Revaramek gets here. Let alone Jekk.”

The urd’thin scrunched his muzzle, flattening his ears. “That old man always spoils my fun. Alright, the bath can wait.” He turned around to smile at Aylaryl. “More relaxing to sit with you, anyway.”

Aylaryl rumbled as she walked past him. She opened a purple and black wing, folding it around him. Asterbury savored its enclosing warmth, and let her guide him to the shade beneath the largest of Mirelle’s trees. The dragon eased onto her belly in the cool shade, withdrawing her wing from around him. The soft membranes brushed the fur where it protruded from his noble’s clothes.

Once Aylaryl was settled, Asterbury flopped to the ground between her forelegs and lay back against her. He tilted his head, one large ear pressed to her protective lavender chest plates. The dragon’s heart thumped a steady, soothing rhythm. Her front leg shifted, curling around him. He draped his arms across it, stroking her lilac scutes. He always liked the way they felt against his pads, warm and smooth.

For a time, his anger ebbed away. Something about feeling protected had a way of easing his burden. For all his countless years of wandering the starry neck of nowhere, it had been unknowable ages since someone sought to protect him. Until he came to this place. Until he met Aylaryl and Enora. Till they made him feel protected again. It helped him remember that once, long ago, there was a time he needed to be protected.

A time he sought to protect another.

Asterbury closed his eyes, listening to Aylaryl’s heart. “You would have loved our desert. It was so beautiful. It glowed gold, in the sun.”

“You say that as if you aren’t planning to try and take me there some day.” Aylaryl curled her neck, laying her head on the grass. “I think I’ll overheat.”

“No, you’ll love it. You can lounge in the shade, swim in the oasis. And if it’s too hot, I’ll change it just enough. I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you…I’d protect you…from everything.”

She gave a soft, rumbling purr. “I know, Asterbury.”

An old knife twisted in his heart, a pain half forgotten. His voice came out a trembling whisper. “All I ever wanted to do was protect him.”

Aylaryl murmured. She lifted her other paw to gently stoke his ears. “I know.”

“I didn’t want to lose him.” Asterbury leaned his head into her encompassing touch. He sniffed, his whole body shaking. “But…the whole world shattered.”

“They pushed you to it.”

“I want to put it back together but…”

“You did what you had to.”

“The pieces never quite fit. There’s too many fractures.”

Aylaryl lifted her head, and laid her muzzle between his ears and horns. “You can’t blame yourself.”

Asterbury reached up and gently stroked her scales. “I didn’t want to be alone.”

Aylaryl squeezed him against her scutes, rumbling a soothing purr. “You aren’t alone.”

“I know.” Asterbury tilted his head, nuzzling against her throat. “And I will be eternally grateful for that. I didn’t want him to be alone, either. And now-”

“When your work is done, he won’t be.”

A smile crept across Asterbury’s muzzle. “You’re right. So very right, my dear. When I’ve set this story right, I shall turn my eyes at last homeward. I can take you to my desert, and if I cannot put my story back together, we shall build it anew in the storytellers’ blood.”

Asterbury sighed, and laid his head back against Aylaryl. He closed his eyes, sheltered in her grasp. He listened to her heartbeat. For a little while, he had a family again. For a little while, he was at peace.

*****

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