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Selvanna's nerves bunched in her gut, corkscrewing up into her chest, but Mathus squeezed her fingers. “I'll be right beside you," he whispered as the volume of the assembly outside died down. They waited out of sight, a view of the elders as they called their council in their great hall. Selvanna held her poleaxe and wore a light, ceremonial chainmail opened in the back for her wings, Mathus stood to her left wearing a simple tunic and trousers. Despite every power in the city wanting his attention for the last two weeks, Mathus refused to dress with any sense of formality and ceremony, a thing that Selvanna admired more than she expected after centuries with Dialdon.

The council called, Sorkahn began to speak to the assembly: “It is a rare thing for a dragon to become Wayward, and rarer still for the Wayward to return to their people. Selvanna helped us prepare and fought bravely with us in the Battle of the Red Flood, she betrayed her beloved and all she knew because she saw an evil and rose to resist it. Without her, Sepulcher of Dawn and all our kin here likely would be dead, our spirits stolen by another great Defiler. We owe her much, and I have called this council to ask she be returned to Clan Razorscale as our chosen protector of the Inheritor."

Sorkahn turned to the other elders. “What say you, my kin?"

Each spoke in turn. Selvanna knew the results of this council, but still as every dragon spoke, she could not help but clench her jaw till her molars became sore. At the end of it, Sorkahn turned to where they waited and said to them both, “Then join us, Selvanna and Mathus."

They walked out together, hand in hand, with Selvanna measuring her stride so Mathus did not need to rush to keep up with her. They stopped in front of Sorkahn, and Selvanna bowed, setting her poleaxe on the floor beside her. Sorkahn said to Selvanna, but projected his voice to the crowd, “Selvanna, daughter of Zevzara and Belkahn, Wayward of Clan Razorscale, we have called you here to offer you the chance to rejoin Clan Razorscale. Should you accept, you will be charged again with all the duties a Razorscale holds to our people, as the protectors of dragons and their settlements. You will also be tasked as Mathus the Inheritor's guardian, and the ambassador of our people to the new God of Mortals. What say you?"

Selvanna said to the floor, “I am the Inheritor's Flame, and I am a dragoness who wishes to honor and do right by her kin. I am willing to serve them both."

“Rise, Selvanna Razorscale."

Feeling a little lightheaded that this was really happening, Selvanna managed to get to her feet without showing any weakness. Sorkahn took her free hand and held it up in his. The assembly of dragons rose, applauding and bellowing their welcome. Their ragged cheers breaking into a rousing chorus that shook the very stone. Even raising his voice, Selvanna barely heard Sorkahn yell in her ear, “Welcome back, sister."

***

“Would you stop worrying so much?" Cathka chided as she clasped a brass bracelet around Karniel's forearm, just above the wrist of his right hand. It fit snugly against his fur.

Karniel tried his best to just hold his arm still, watching his star-touched hand as the air around it wavered with heat. Ever since Selvanna had rejoined her clan, all of them had taken up residence in the Ward of Wings, Mathus still wanting to make some amount of distance between himself and the Church. Try as he might, however, they were still constantly pestered by people wanting Mathus to take control of that organization as it flopped and fractured in its current power vacuum.

Those responsible for trying to make a new Heart had already been executed, and the remaining Church leadership struggled to find any unifying goals with Mathus' refusal to be at their head.

Karniel asked, “What if the spell fails? If I can't see my hand how can I be certain it won't spread—"

Mathus came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Karniel's waist. “Trust Cathka, please?"

Karniel bit back his fears as Cathka signed two glyphs and ran her finger along the bracelet. In an instant, Karniel's right hand flickered out of existence, transported to a small pocket dimension of Calth's design. Karniel stared, stunned, he lifted the bracelet to his hand, studying the stump at the end of the bracelet that now simply resembled a welt of closed flesh, as if he lost his hand and wrist in some accident or battle.

Cathka placed her palm against that illusory stump. “See?" Karniel still pulled his arm away reflexively. Cathka frowned but did not push it, simply stating, “As long as you don't remove the clasp on that bracelet, the spell will maintain itself."

Mathus came around to examine Cathka's handiwork. “Cathka, this is wonderful. Now maybe Karniel will be willing to sleep with us again."

Karniel moved his arm behind his back, away from his beloveds, “Perhaps, eventually. I'm still—we should wait and make sure the spell holds."

Karniel, who had been avoiding everyone and everything, found he did not get the chance to play keep away. He had been in his room, getting ready to sleep when the door opened and in walked Korlyon, Cathka, and Mathus.

Karniel got up from where he sat on the bed, trying to read a draconic history of the White Death, and asked, “Is something wrong?"

“Very wrong," Korlyon growled.

“We're tired of your attitude," Cathka said.

“I beg your pardon?"

All three moved closer as Mathus said, “We've been talking, and we all miss you, love."

“I'm right here."

“You know what we mean," Cathka said as all three stopped around him. “It's been a month and you've not let anyone hold you, sleep with you, be with you—"

“Because I'm a danger. I still am—"

Korlyon shoved Karniel into the bed. “You're not."

Cathka climbed into the bed while Karniel meekly tried to keep her away with his left hand. “We're not—" with both hers, she pinned Karniel's left wrist to the bed, “going to just let you waste away in here."

Soon enough, they all climbed into the bed, rolling Karniel on his back, Korlyon wrapping around his left side, Cathka on his right while Mathus lay on top of him. Karniel went still quaking, terrified, and eventually something broke in him. He wrapped his arms around all three in a tight embrace. He had missed all of them so much—without meaning to, he began to weep. And all three of them soothed his aches until they drifted off to sleep together.

***

Despite living together for two months now, it still alarmed Cathka when Selvanna cornered her outside their new home. She had been reading over one of Basphemen's spellbooks, having returned to them now that Karniel's hand had been taken care of, out in the small lawn behind their new home that ended at the canal. The sound of running water under the shade of one of those strange violet trees with the dandelion seed canopy made for a positively peaceful experience to do research.

Which is why she did not even notice Selvanna till the dragoness said, “Cathka! There you are."

She started at the small table she sat beside, shutting her book reflexively and asking, “Is something wrong?"

Selvanna grabbed the one wrought iron chair big enough for her and set it on the opposite end of the table, sitting down and hunching over. She whispered, “You used to be a court mage, yes?"

“For a decade in Sebodal," Cathka answered.

“And you were requested to help ladies of the court—with childbearing and fertility things?"

Cathka arched her brow. “What exactly are you getting at?"

“Cathka," a deep breath, “I'm off my cycle."

She scoffed and shrugged her wings. “Come on, Vanna, plenty of women miss their periods."

“Yes, but—" Selvanna's wings and tail bunched up around her, as if she tried to make herself as small as possible. “Can you just… do you know a spell to check, to make sure I'm not carrying a clutch?"

Cathka rolled her eyes and got out of her chair. “Stand up." Selvanna did, and Cathka said while she opened her purse, “Raise your blouse for me." Cathka retrieved one of her more basic spellbooks from her purse and flipped through it, saying as she did, “I've not done one of these spells in years, so you'll forgive me if I don't have it memorized."

She found the page she needed and snapped the book shut, tossing it back in her purse which flickered out of existence. She signed three glyphs then pressed her palm up to the white, banded front of Selvanna's abdomen.

Both women felt a wave of warmth spread through Selvanna's core before something pinged in the spell, like waves breaking on a boulder. Cathka's eyes went wide. “Oh."

“C-Check again."

Selvanna cast the spell again, herself wanting to make sure she had it correct. The same result. Both women looked at each other. Cathka said, “Seems Mathus doesn't need the Heart to make a miracle happen."

Selvanna paced back and forth, holding her head in her hands. “Sage's slit, what do I tell him? I was the one who said not to worry about it—Dialdon and I had gone through this same thing so many times I just assumed… Then again, we do get more fertile as we age so maybe—"

Cathka grabbed the hem of her blouse to make her stop. “Vanna, calm down."

“Calm down? I can't be a mother, Cathka."

“Then don't," Cathka said. “You're no longer Wayward, just give the eggs over to be raised by the clan."

“But—but what about, Mathus?"

***

Someone could have told Mathus he was dreaming and he'd believe it. Nestled in a spring of hot water, in the Razorscale roost, were the three eggs Selvanna passed last night. It had been a month since Selvanna told him he would be a father. A father to dragons. He knelt down at the edge of the pool and laid his hand against one of the eggs, which, like any dragon, was as warm if not warmer than the water it was half submerged in.

Selvanna sat on her knees beside him. “I'm sorry we can't stay with them."

“It's alright—I understand why." Mathus leaned against her. “Now we just have one more reason to save the world."

“Hehe, they'll be here waiting for us, Mathus. And I'm sure they'll understand."

“I hope so. I just… I know this is the right thing to do. I'm just sad we won't get to see them hatch."

Selvanna wrapped her arm around him, stroking his back with her tail. “It may not be safe for them to be in our lives right now, but someday we'll make a world together where they'll always be safe, dear."

Mathus surveyed the roost. Theirs was the only pool occupied. These eggs were the first Razorscales born in half a decade. “Someday, I hope we can make all these pools full of eggs again."

“Hahaha, that so? Are you going to run around the ward boasting your fertility to every available dragoness?"

Mathus blushed hard. Since news of Selvanna's pregnancy, he had received three different offers from dragonesses desperate for a clutch. He protested, “That's not at all what I meant!"

Selvanna giggled. “Good, I'm afraid even you might not survive trying to satisfy that many dragonesses."

***

For several weeks now, Korlyon had been going to one of the Razorscale dojos in the Ward of Wings, using the training grounds to keep practice with his swords. After the Battle of the Red Flood, it had taken him a month to unsheath his swords again. Turning them on his brethren in the order took a bigger toll on him than expected, but eventually he came to accept that, despite who he might have hurt, protecting Mathus mattered more than the guilt he carried. He couldn't afford to put away his swords yet.

The dojo was a square building with a courtyard in its center for training. The Razorscales that came there in the mornings were content to let the smaller wolf practice his stances in a corner, turning his attention to a training dummy. What he did not expect, as he worked this morning, was catching Karniel's scent. He turned and found the bat leaning against a wall at the courtyard's edge, his right arm wrapped up in the sleeve of the shirt he wore, hiding his bracelet and stump under its burgundy fabric.

He said when Korlyon noticed him, “Oh, by all means, don't stop on my account."

Panting a little in his armor, with only his mask missing, Korlyon asked, “What do you want, Karniel?"

The bat kicked off the wall and came over, “I wondered if you could use a sparring partner."

“You mean yourself?"

Karniel nodded. “With one of my hands indisposed, I would assume we are an even match."

Korlyon asked, “And why wouldn't you just use your right hand if we were attacked?"

“Because it terrifies me to use it," Karniel said frankly. “You witnessed what it did to Fawn, I'd rather not unleash it on any poor soul if we can avoid it."

Korlyon tossed Karniel his offhand sword, which the bat neatly caught. He hefted the blade and said, “A little small for me, but I suppose it will do for the time being."

“Just take a stance and get ready for me."

Karniel slipped his right arm behind his back and smirked. “I bet I can beat you with one arm tied behind my back, pup."

“What do you want to bet?"

“Mmm, loser can do nothing back at the house but bottom for a week?"

“I'm going to make you enjoy taking my knot."

“Sadly, I'm worried I will, too."

Karniel did put up a better fight than Korlyon expected, even if the wolf suspected his companion enjoyed the idea of losing more than winning at this point in their relationship.

***

Riding the riverboat from Sepulcher of Morning to Sepulcher of Noon was a nice change of pace for their strange little family. They had left their home in Sepulcher of Dawn a month before, having spent most of the summer there. Mathus wanted to visit the other Emerald Cities, their public excuse being he toured the temples to the old Church of Mortel to meet with the fledgling leadership in those cities.

Really, they were just on vacation. Mostly. Cathka still put Mathus to work helping her comb through Basphemen's books whenever they had the chance. That evening on the river had begun no differently than the ones before, wine served in glasses at a table, a lantern to read by in the starless night—the waning moon hanging lazily in the sky.

Mathus yawned and glanced over the notes he made for Cathka. The hippogryph turned the page of the book she read and reached for her wine glass, tipping it back in her beak for a sip. Even in this light, with cicadas from around the riverbank waxing into the night, she still dressed and carried herself like she planned to address a court of nobles at any moment. Her easy eloquence was something Mathus couldn't help but admire, studying the soft feathers that ran along her collarbone and down into her cleavage, thinking how they carried her scent.

“Mathus?"

He blinked and found her smirking at him.

“Something distracting you?"

She turned another page and continued reading as he stuttered, “I just—you know I don't need to tell you how stunning you always look—"

“I found something."

“Hmm?" Cathka set down the book and pushed it across their table to him. He read the header of the section that dominated most of the two pages and asked, “What's a homunculus?"

“It's a construct, of sorts," Cathka said as she took the book. “I didn't think—but of course Basphemen used them. When we spoke to him in his tower, or at least that body he used, it had to have been a homunculus. Just a construct he could project part of his soul into and pilot as he needed."

Mathus frowned. He had come to understand that Basphemen had been that horrid monolith of living bismuth, not the creature he spoke to in the tower, but… “Are you sure Calth will survive in one of these?"

“They need sustenance like any living creature, but their bodies don't age or deteriorate naturally. It's part of the reason the secret to making them is so guarded: guilds don't want mages cheating death or helping anyone else do it," Cathka spoke excitedly. She got up and said, “I left Calth in my room, I have to go get him and tell him the good news."

Mathus grabbed the back of her dress before she ran off. “Wait, does that mean Calth will be able to leave his sword soon?"

“It will take some time to work out a formula that can make a proper vessel for Calth—we can't just make the homunculus listed here and end up with something that looks like Basphemen, after all, but yes, Mathus!" She yanked him into a tight hug, nuzzling her beak against his cheek, “Thank you. It would have taken me years to break the code on these books without your help."

“Hehehe, you don't owe me anything, Cathka."

“Nonsense, Calth and I owe you the world."

“I'm sure you'll think of some way to repay me."

“Mmm, careful, Mathus, or I'll make sure Calth is well-equipped to repay you, too."

***

“What do you wish to do with the old Order of the Faceless?" Bishop Lahnsa asked Mathus. He sat in the back of the temple Lahnsa ran in Sepulcher of Noon, both of them taking tea from a low table while they sat on floor cushions. Lahnsa was a tall and wide heifer, recent in her appointment, having it thrust upon her because she was the only priest in the city who refused to practice magic of any kind.

It had been a turn in the Church since the Battle of the Red Flood five months ago. Lahnsa said, “There are a few of them here in the city, but they seem utterly lost."

Mathus glanced at Korlyon he stood by the door in his armor, acting as a quiet bodyguard. The wolf only offered him a shrug. “I'm not sure," Mathus admitted. “To be frank, I know Dialdon founded their order, and I know they fought for him, but I'm not sure what they did besides his bidding." Mathus cupped the small tea cup and took a sip from it. It was a floral, fruity blend Lahnsa said came from the fertile river valleys Sepulcher of Noon had been built in, at the edge of the Dragonspine Mountains.

Lahnsa took a sip herself before giving a slight nod. “It is true, they were the False Prophet's—"

“Let's not call him that, please."

“But it's what you called him, is it not?"

Mathus grimaced, thinking of Selvanna as he said, “I would like Dialdon to be remembered for the good he did the Emerald Cities before power corrupted him."

Lahnsa chuckled. “Very well, Inheritor, but many here have only loathing in our hearts for him. If that is how you feel, however, it does beg the question what you wish to do with his legacy. The Order of the Faceless was his, and now what remains are some of the most deadly fighters in the world with nothing commanding all that dreadful skill and power."

“We are not a danger to anyone," Korlyon growled. “We live by a code, one that forbids us from harming those who haven't done wrong."

“And do you still live by that code, hmm?" Lahnsa said before taking another drink and shaking her head. “You might stand on ceremony here, but it is well known you do not wear your mask anymore. Most who used to be a part of the Order have stopped wearing them. They keep the armor and powerful conduits they were given, though."

Mathus frowned. “Have some been making trouble in the city here?"

“Not yet, but the warrior, what was her name, Seljynn? She came here a few months ago and has been working as a bounty hunter," Lahnsa said. “She's been doing well for herself, and hasn't had any qualms with who her quarry is, it seems."

Mathus studied his tea cup as Lahnsa spoke. He wanted to have an answer, to look up from the swirling tea leaves and say something that would give guidance. Korlyon had told Mathus all he knew was how to fight, he had not thought what that might mean for a dispossessed order of equally competent and dangerous warriors. He asked, “Has she hurt anyone, though?"

“Mostly some of the less subtle cultists in the city that the mage guilds wanted driven out, but there is a rumor she was the one who carried out a recent assassination on a city councilwoman." Lahnsa shrugged and finished her tea. She set it down on her saucer and sighed. “But I'm just a humble follower of Mortel's Word, hoping to guide others. I've no power to reign her or anyone else in."

“I know what you're asking—"

“I would hope so, Inheritor, I've not been subtle."

Mathus bit back a flood of annoyance and frustration. “Listen, I will try to do… something. I would like to speak to Korlyon alone, if you wouldn't mind giving us the room."

Lahnsa got up and gave a little bow in her robes. “Of course, Inheritor," she said before leaving them in her office.

Korlyon sat cross-legged next to him and placed a paw on Mathus' thigh. “You're not responsible for this, love."

Mathus chewed on his lip, eventually he just leaned over and fell against Korlyon's chest. His wolf hugged him close and Mathus whispered, “I know we're not responsible, but what if Lahnsa is right? Not everyone who was in the Order is going to be like you."

“You're right," Korlyon said, “but is that really a responsibility you want to take?"

“How many of you could there be at this point?"

Korlyon bobbed his head as he made a mental tally. “Perhaps a hundred or so after the casualties we caused stopping Dialdon."

“I'm just… I don't know what I would tell them. What I would make them do. Hunt monsters? Be my bodyguard? It all sounds silly."

“Hmm, you know, if Karniel is right, we may need a force to help fight off the stars."

Mathus groaned. “Ugh, is that really how we go about telling the world what we know? By recruiting warriors for an invasion we can't predict, that we can't prepare for?" They had not shared outside their little group what they knew about the stars. They all agreed it seemed like a recipe for mass panic, and if the dragons found a means for leaving this dimension like their last home, mass exodus as well. They did plan to reveal the truth, to any who would listen and help them, but the night of their fight with Dialdon, Cathka had been right. They had and needed time to first understand what the stars were and how to repel them, and they needed also a chance to recover. Mathus especially. Ever since his adventures with Karniel began, he had not really admitted the toll it took on him until after they defeated Dialdon.

He'd been plagued by all sorts of nightmares involving characters like Basphemen, Mortel, even some of Selvanna betraying him again for the Church. If he did not have such a tight knit set of support, Mathus was certain he and Karniel both would be in shambles right now: Karniel haunted by his encounters with the stars, Mathus with all the things his quiet life in Morgen's Rest had never prepared him for.

Korlyon whispered, “It's just a thought, love. We're only doing this meeting as a courtesy to Lahnsa, we don't owe her or anyone anything, and we can't help them if we run ourselves ragged trying to solve every problem in the world."

“You sound like Cathka," Mathus complained.

“She's often right. Maybe a bit too smug about it, but she is."

“If we do call back the Order and make a new version, I'd want you to help me with it. Maybe even lead it."

“Now I'm the one who's scared of taking charge," Korlyon joked with a little wry chuckle before he kissed Mathus on the temple. “But whatever you ask of me, Mathus, I'm certain I can do it for you."

***

Karniel had a bath brought up to their rooms. Cathka stopped in the door, grateful for the modest tub of soapy, warm water. They'd been riding in the rain most of the day, on the road to Sepulcher of Dusk, and only just stopped for the night at a tavern. Cathka sighed as she stepped into the room, which was on the top floor, one of the larger rooms available. Karniel came in behind her and said, “Ah, good, I see they didn't tarry on the bath."

Cathka started to undo the belt of her riding pants, saying as she did, “Are Mathus and the others good and settled?"

“I just checked on them. Selvanna insists on keeping a watch for the time being."

“Typical Vanna," Cathka whispered as Karniel wrapped his arms around her from behind. One large hand squeezed her hip, while his handless right arm hugged her close. It was strange how much a single hand had made a difference in the intervening months, as Karniel learned new ways to touch her now that he missed his dominant hand.

She stretched out her wings and lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck. She craned her head back and looked him in the eyes. She couldn't help but smile at what she saw there. “You should see your face," she whispered. Cathka scratched behind his ear, “Dopy-eyed fool."

“Mmm, you like it when I look at you that way."

“Hehe, maybe I do." She turned in his embrace so they faced each other, hooking her hands around his waist and leaning back. “To think I was ever worried you'd just cast me off to the side."

“Rather unbecoming of you, really." Karniel caressed her cheek. “Considering how confident you are of everything else."

“I know, how silly of me to think I'd be ignored in favor of an actual god."

Karniel scoffed. “Mathus is no more a god than you are, darling."

“Having power and not using it is very different from not having power at all," Cathka said. She released him and turned back around before asking, “Undo my back, please?"

Karniel obliged her. Like any creature with wings, the back of her blouse was laced in ties to accommodate her extra limbs. Slower than he used to work, he undid the ties with his left hand, saying as he did, “You know there's no difference between you and Mathus in my eyes, don't you?"

“There is a difference, though. You challenged the very stars to protect him."

“And I'd have done the same for you, just like I told you. I'd sooner see the world burn than either of you hurt."

“Hmmph." Last tie undone, she faced him and slipped off her blouse. The bustier she wore underneath undid itself simply by signing a glyph across the topaz stitched into its center. She tossed it aside and said, “I don't mind Mathus and I being different, Karniel. We simply are, and I think we'd both rather you see that difference and embrace it than insist one didn't exist."

Karniel frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but the whole building rattled under an explosion of some kind. Water from the tub splashed across the floor, the shuttered window burst open, and Karniel hugged Cathka close until the shaking stopped.

He cursed and went to the window while Cathka squeezed her jade necklace and signed a protective barrier around their room. From afar they heard a voice boom, “Mathus the Inheritor! Today doom has darkened your door. I've come to claim your power for myself. Submit to me and I may yet stay my wrath."

Karniel turned away from the window and said, “It's a fucking lich. Now of all times." He grabbed his bracelet and twisted it. Cathka had to squint as the room suddenly flashed full of starlight. Karniel mounted the windowsill and said over his shoulder, “I'll take care of this, darling. You're right that you and Mathus are different, but my devotion is not. Now why don't you retrieve some of that tea from Sepulcher of Noon and put it on? I should be done with this by the time it's ready to pour."

He leapt into the once dark and cloudy night. Cathka rushed to the window and saw the looming tower of the lich, a great spire of warped opal, colors squirming across its glowing surface as Karniel crossed a small plot of farmland to it—the bat all but consumed in the brilliant starlight shining off his hand.

***

“Welcome to Sepulcher of Dusk, Inheritor," a representative of the Guild of Sages said with a little bow. Selvanna recognized their ilk by the green poncho and long brimmed hat they wore. Their party—Mathus, Cathka, and Korlyon riding by horse—huddled under the main gate into the city, sleet falling on all sides around it.

Sepulcher of Dusk existed with a massive park around the city walls, the city itself being a single great ziggurat that almost rivaled some neighboring mountain peaks. Almost all of Dusk's populace lived inside the great structure built by dragons, its engineering, much like Sepulcher of Dawn, unique to it alone.

Selvanna, wearing her plate, stepped in front of their group and demanded, “Where is Sephkaya Razorscale? We were to meet her, not you."

“Ah, yes, she and her entourage are up ahead," the representative said before trying to step around Selvanna to say to Mathus, the gryphon's wings extending out under her poncho. “I am Fajynn, Inheritor. Our guild has been trying to get in touch with you for some time about registering—"

“We aren't affiliating ourselves with any guild," Karniel said. “Tell your archmages if they want power they should send their apprentices to raid the lich tower we left rotting in a field fifty leagues back."

Fajynn cleared her throat. “I see, you could travel freely by phase glyphs any time you wish if—"

Selvanna bent down and jabbed her snout in the mage's face. “Leave," she growled, “before I send you back to your guild in a casket."

“I wouldn't test an impatient dragoness if I were you, dear," Cathka said from her saddle.

Fajynn said, “We will be in touch." Holding her hat tight, she scurried away into the sleet. They watched her go on ahead before continuing their ride up to the ziggurat. Cathka signed a spell to keep the sleet from pelting them as they crossed a salted pathway that cut through the park to the superstructure that had dominated the horizon most of the day.

“I always hated how positively grim the weather here is," Karniel said. “Not to mention a city of gryphons and dragons makes for dull living."

“Excuse you," Cathka protested.

“Oh, now you hardly count—nor do you, Selvanna! I see that tail lashing."

Korlyon said, “I'm just looking forward to being out of this weather."

“The weather, at least, is awful," Mathus said as he wrapped the cloak he wore tighter around himself.

Standing ahead in front of a massive set of double-doors were three dragons. Each of them Razorscales, waiting to escort them to the draconic settlement inside the city. The most striking of them was a dragoness with golden scales covering most of her body except for her shoulders and up, which darkened in reds like a flame. She rested the spear in her hand against the massive doorway and came out into the sleet wearing only a padded skirt and chest bindings. Sephkaya threw open her hands and said, “Matron Selvanna, it is warming to see you in good health."

Selvanna embraced the companionable hug and said when she stepped back, “Not matron yet, I hope. My clutch shouldn't hatch for another month."

“Your elder brother brags constantly about them. He says they still burn hotter than the spring they roost in," Sephkaya said. She gave a slight bow to the rest of Selvanna's companions. “Welcome all, to Sepulcher of Dusk, it is an honor to host all of you, even you, Karniel!"

Karniel dipped his head. “Age has done wonders for you, Lady Sephkaya."

“Oh hush with that talk!" Sephkaya meant only to nudge him, but the ten foot tall dragoness's strength shoved Karniel back until Korlyon and Cathka caught his shoulders between their horses. “Oops, I forgot how much I've grown since last we saw each other. Anyways, you are hardly the Scourge now, so there's no need to mask our friendship in formalities."

Mathus grinned. “Friends? Karniel never told me about you."

“Oh, he was quite smitten with me when I was a young, naive dragoness."

Karniel guffawed and straightened up. “That was half a millennia ago. I saved Sepulcher of Dusk from a siege laid upon them by some errant sect of mages that had summoned a demon horde here. Sephkaya was the one who broke through the demons' ranks and sought me out."

“Come Karniel, there is more to the story than that," Sephkaya said. She traced her claws across a pale yellow scar on the otherwise gold scales that went across her waist. “I still remember the night I got this scar—you had been so calm and suddenly lashed out with the fury of the Sage when I had been wounded—"

“How about we head inside?" Cathka suggested. “Once we are rested and fed, I'd love to hear how smitten he was with you."

Karniel spared Cathka a glare as Sephkaya turned her back and led them inside. Mathus rode up beside his husband and leaned over, whispering, “What was that about dragons being dull?"

Karniel kept his voice low to make sure the elder dragoness could not hear them, “I'm old enough now to have regrets, darling. Don't make me have to add you both to that list."

Utterly ineffectual, both Cathka and Mathus snickered at their flustered partner.

***

“Is there a particular scent you like?"

Korlyon's hackles went up when he realized Mathus spoke to him. His nose had been so inundated that the young wolf struggled to keep his attention on looking out for Mathus. Selvanna, busy with Razorscale business, missed out on the tour they did of Sepulcher of Twilight's Glowing Gardens. They had retreated from one of the great, domed greenhouses to a storefront where they sold the colognes, scents, and perfumes alchemists manufactured from the gardens.

While Cathka and Karniel put their guide through their paces, Mathus had wandered along an aisle alone. Now he waited on Korlyon's response; the wolf's ears folded back sheepishly. He said, “I like your scent."

“Hehe, that I gathered." Mathus smiled and took his paws, tugging him along to a wall filled with blown glass perfume bottles of every shape and color. “I know scent's important to you, and maybe I'd like to wear something you enjoy."

“There's no need—"

“Oh, there's a need," Mathus grabbed a bottle big as Korlyon's fist and said, “What do you think of this?"

The sickly sweet floral scent made Korlyon's face scrunch up.

“Haha, not that one, then?"

“Mathus…"

“Just try finding something?"

Korlyon glanced back where Karniel now loudly argued with the perfumer about the ingredients of a particular bottle. He muttered, “I just want you, Mathus, as you are."

“It's not like I'm going to bathe in the stuff," Mathus pouted.

And it clicked to Korlyon that giving him something meant more than the scent. He resisted the urge to smack his brow with his paw, feeling stupid. He said, “You know you don't have to get me anything, Mathus."

“I know." Mathus reached up and ran two fingers down the leather mask on Korlyon's muzzle. “Growing up in the Order probably made you not want for much."

“Not much beyond doing good."

“Mmm, and maybe, just maybe," Mathus' fingers slipped under a gap in Korlyon's armor to scritch under his jaw, “You learned to want me."

Korlyon's tail wagged twice before he got it under control. “I-I did, and you're all I need."

“And I'm not always around." Mathus' fingers slipped away, and his other hand pushed another bottle into Korlyon's paw. “Maybe there's something we can get for when you miss me? Something I can wear for you, and something you can use to help find me if I ever need to be found."

Korlyon smiled, a glint of fangs under his mask. “Alright, you convinced me." He held the bottle up and nearly wretched. “Ugh, not this one, though. Let's keep looking, I'd rather find something before that fox Karniel is bickering with tries to tell me what I should be smelling for."

***

“Tell me, how were the roads up here?" Lady Vera Asher asked over her wine glass in her parlor.

“Lovely. Not a glint of ice marring them—"

“The question was for Mathus, dear," Vera said to Karniel. The older vixen had nothing kind to say to Karniel the entire evening, despite it being her invitation that had brought them to her manor. Karniel sat in a loveseat with Mathus at his side, an end table then Vera in the chair next to it. She leaned against the armrest, legs folded, elegant in the crimson pleated dress she wore, touches of gold in her necklace and earrings that matched her eyes. Her snowy pelt was peppered here and there with silver hairs, especially around her muzzle.

All around them, a low buzz of conversation carried on. Cathka stood beside a fireplace carrying on with another hippogryph from Sepulcher of Midnight's mage academy, while other guests chatted and drank in both the nearby dining room and study. Selvanna declined attendance citing, “The amount of lies that people spout in those gatherings can make me sick." Korlyon hovered not far, sipping a whiskey in a tailcoat that, Mathus suspected, was the finest clothing the wolf ever had tailored for himself.

Mathus wanted to escape with the wolf, imagining the young man felt just as out of his element, but a single longing glance did not save him from having to clear his throat and speak, “Outside of the lich that attacked us, all our travels have been mostly pleasant. The weather is the biggest obstacle we've dealt with."

Vera dipped her head. “Most refuse to travel this far once the snows have started to fall. We keep the roads clear for traders, of course, but sadly we are not a vacation spot once the winter comes."

“I imagine it's beautiful here in the summer."

“Very, you would have a place here if you returned, then," Vera said. She cocked her head. “Just what are your plans? You mentioned earlier wintering in a cabin a few leagues away, but what happens when the ice thaws?"

Mathus glanced at Karniel. Karniel offered, “I don't believe we've thought that far ahead."

“Can't say I'm surprised you lack any foresight," Vera said, voice cold as the frosted pane glass windows in the room.

“Now see here," Karniel protested, “I've been exceptionally polite to you, Vera, and—

“I did not invite you to call me Vera."

“Fine, Lady Asher, just what have I done that has set this grudge against me? For nearly two millennia I've been your family's ally—"

“Exactly." Vera's claws pinched into the upholstery of her armrest. “You act innocent and indignant, pretend as if nothing has changed for our family after you ravaged the Emerald Cities and left."

“Excuse me?"

“Scourge, when you decided the Emerald Cities were no longer your plaything and disappeared to Gavalon, who do you think the people first turned upon? Those of us who had courted your favor for so many years." Vera gestured across the manor, “I'm lucky to have this estate after we were stripped of our title. My husband was tried as your co-conspirator and executed, and you've not had the gall to even ask once tonight about what happened to him."

Karniel cringed. “I… I just assumed…"

“Tsk, the only reason you're allowed here is Mathus. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if that's why most of the cities choose to let you parade about openly in the streets as if you did nothing wrong."

Mathus got to his feet. “We should be leaving, then." By this point, they had drawn the attention of Korlyon, who came over to their group. Mathus bowed to Vera and said, “Should you need us, we'll be staying in the Silverscale neighborhood."

For better or worse in this journey, Karniel's reputation made it so their most hospitable company in the Emerald Cities came from the draconic settlements. Sepulcher of Midnight had the smallest of them, with only a hundred dragons still living in the city.

Cathka noticed them getting up, and offered some rushed words to whoever she met before making her way over. She caught the three of them at the vestibule, a doorman offering them their coats. They trundled out onto a wide road on the north side of the city, the cobblestone street magically heated and wet from the fallen snow that piled up in alleys and rooftops.

Cathka, wings hugged around her shoulders, asked as they walked down the street, “What happened in there?"

Mathus opened his mouth, but Karniel said first, “I made a complete fool of myself."

“You did not," Mathus protested. “She shouldn't have invited us if she just planned to treat you like that."

“The invitation was for you, Mathus," Karniel said, walking so fast down the road he made it difficult for his companions to keep up. He practically fled from the place. “It said the Inheritor and guests, not Karniel and company."

“She had to have known," Mathus said.

Korlyon added, “Didn't you have a history with this family? Why wouldn't she expect you to come?"

“Because," Karniel stopped and waved out over the city, most of which swept out beneath them as they descended through the switchback streets. “They used to rule this city—and I cost them that, and perhaps more importantly, I cost her husband his life." The bat started walking again, “I didn't even think to ask what happened to Collin… when you live as long as I have you forget to—"

“Enough, Karniel!" Mathus grabbed his left arm and planted his boots, tugging his distraught husband to a stop.

Cathka said, “Don't make yourself responsible for her husband's death."

“But I was! You didn't hear her, but he was tried as a conspirator of mine, all because I didn't terrorize Sepulcher of Midnight—simply asked him to not condone Mortel's Church here."

“Even if you did get him killed," Korlyon said, “You know better than to tear yourself up about it."

“I'm just…" Karniel shook his head and asked the three, “ I'm not ever going to be welcomed back here, am I?"

Mathus hugged him tight. “Maybe we stay away, but they can't hate you forever, love."

“Naturally, in another century most of the people who knew you will be dead," Cathka joked.

Mathus scowled at her.

“What? It's the truth of these things. We shouldn't waste our time trying to pry acceptance out of clenched fists."

Karniel sighed, “You're right, darling. Still, it stings. My relationship to this particular family was very dear to me."

Korlyon said, “You'll win them back. Remember, Selvanna and I used to despise you with every ounce of ourselves."

“Heh, you only came around because of Mathus," Karniel said.

Cathka said, “Shame we already left. It'd be poor form for Mathus to go back now to try to seduce Lady Asher."

Mathus blushed. “I would never!"

***

Some nights, Mathus thrashed so much it woke Karniel no matter how deep asleep he might be. Mathus kicked away at something, heel running along Karniel's calf under the sheets and heavy wool blanket they wore. Half awake, Karniel tried to grab his shoulder only to realize his right hand remained missing, locked away in its own little dimension.

He quietly groaned and rolled on his side, gently shaking Mathus awake.

“Mmmph? K-Karniel?"

“It's just me, darling," he whispered. “We're at Selvanna's cabin, remember?"

“Right," Mathus scooted closer and burrowed into his husband's chest. “I'm sorry for waking you."

“I'm sorry you keep having nightmares. Should I get Cathka?" On the worst of nights, Cathka would sign a spell to steal Mathus into a dreamless sleep.

“No, I'll be fine—I just…"

“I know, darling, I know," Karniel hooked his leg around Mathus' hips, hugged him closer. “Do you want to talk about it?"

“There's nothing to talk about," Mathus said. “It was the one with Basphemen and Mortel again."

Karniel kissed his brow. “Would that I could, I'd turn your terrors away surely as I did both Basphemen and Mortel."

“Thank you, love," Mathus whispered. He looked up, chin resting against soft chocolate fur. “There is one thing that could help."

“Hmm?"

Mathus reached up and brushed his dark curls aside. He'd been letting them grow a little longer, and they now fell down to his neck, which he exposed for Karniel. In the barest of moonlight filtering in through this bedroom, Karniel saw Mathus expose his nape, goosebumps rising there.

“You want me to bite you?" Karniel asked.

“Yes," Mathus said, “There's something about it—it just always takes my worries away."

Karniel huffed, feeling his chest tighten. “If you're sure." He bent down, nuzzling into Mathus' neck. His husband arched into him, and Karniel kissed his bare flesh, savored the scent of his skin, still coated in a sheen of sweat from his nightmare. Karniel kissed that away, then bared his fangs.

Mathus' flesh yielded for his teeth easily as a tomato for a knife. A burst of blood flooded Karniel's lips, and he sucked like a lover might to leave a hickey. Mathus' warmth filled his maw, red on red gullet, dark and finer than any wine. Karniel and Mathus both moaned, quivered against each other. That sweet, metallic taste Karniel swilled through his palate before he swallowed, that first drink flushing heat through his body. An intoxicating drug. Karniel could not help himself. He sucked harder, and life surged and raged through his ribs. Old instincts worked inside him, his loins stirring while Mathus whimpered and clung to him. Without a word, both began to rock their hips against each other till the beat of Mathus' blood slowed enough that Karniel released the hold his jaws had on his beloved.

He let go and tipped Mathus' chin up with his good hand, sealing them both in a desperate kiss as Karniel rolled on top of his partner. Tongue tinged with Mathus' blood, Karniel filled his love's mouth with it, tastebuds grinding wetly against each other, dancing. Karniel's fangs brushed against Mathus' lips, nipped his bottom one, and came back in for another hungry kiss. Those comparatively small hands grasped Karniel's girth, Mathus' palm rubbing across the mushroom head of Karniel's now rigid length. The bigger bat humped into his grip, his cock grinding across Mathus' wrist, leaking precum that made the soft-firm flesh slick. Those fingers worked quicker, both hands stroking up and down his shaft, squeezing across his glans as if Mathus wanted to get Karniel off right away.

Other appetites swelled in Karniel, however. He broke the kiss and swung around, suddenly straddling Mathus' chest. He sat down, and smothered Mathus with his musky balls. Sweat built up during the night in their warm bed smeared across the human's skin. That heavy sack covered most of his face. The rank, sage-tinged musk overloaded Mathus' olfactory senses, frying his brain a little. Karniel watched his slutty husband's cock twitch and jump against his belly. Barely visible in the dark, a small sheen of precum already leaking across his abdomen.

Karniel leaned in and scooped that needy cock up with his long red tongue, pulling it between his fangs and into his warm maw. Mathus squirmed a little under him, overwhelmed only a moment before he reached up. With one hand he squeezed and stroked the towering shaft that now dripped precum down its veiny, barrelled length. The other cupped and squeezed the balls that buried his face while he sucked best he could. Each orb was, of course, far too big to fit between his lips. So he simply suckled on that soft scrotum, tongue swirling circles through the sweaty fur. Each heavy nut had so much musk and sweat built up that it quickly covered Mathus' very pores, staining his palate.

Karniel meanwhile wrapped his right arm around Mathus' leg, propping himself up on the elbow while his left hand grabbed the smaller human's cock at the base, holding it steady for him. The enticing taste of his meat excited Karniel more than the worship Mathus lavished for his balls. Precum spilled across his tongue in salty, creamy spurts that made Karniel need more. His tongue wormed between Mathus' glans and his foreskin and swirled around there. He took in and savored the musky flavors before sucking hard enough to drag that foreskin up a little, almost covering Mathus' urethra. His husband mewled, legs fussing from all that stimulation on his tip even as his cock throbbed and leaked even more in Karniel's maw.

The bat spared his lover, sinking further down Mathus' shaft. One bob became two, making sure to wet his lips between them to keep things nice and slick. Soon, Karniel's leafed nose came to rest against Mathus' balls, his cock burrowed into Karniel's throat. He swallowed and sucked, each breath through his mouth now smothered in Mathus' sweaty musk much like his husband's breaths were. It was hard to believe that before meeting Mathus Karniel never allowed himself to suck cock. It was such a simple but intoxicating pleasure: to feel another male's shaft throb in your maw, hot even against the warmth of your mouth, the flesh, soft yet rigid, subtle in flavor to slather and savor with your tongue. Karniel groaned, barely able to contain himself as his dick spat precum across Mathus' torso.

He sucked and swallowed hard, keen ears hearing Mathus' heart speed up. Little huffs of breath, warning signals before Mathus even whispered, “Karniel… fuck I'm gonna cum…" Karniel began to bob his head again at that: lips pursed, slick fangs brushing soft and firm textures at the same time across Mathus' length. He whined and groaned, no longer able to worship Karniel in turn, but tossed and turned. Karniel felt Mathus' balls draw up against his palm. He stroked his thumb up and down the scrotum, encouraging his love. He wanted nothing more than to taste Mathus' seed. He backed his mouth to the head of Mathus' cock. His tongue wrapped around the shaft just under the glans, and he sucked hard and quick. His lips worked up and down on that spot, where he'd learned Mathus enjoyed the most stimulation, and it only took a few moments of working pressure and suction across that upper portion of his shaft to set his husband off.

Mathus wrapped his arms around Karniel's hips, crying out with a little curse as he came. Karniel worked his lips a little faster, milking the spurting dick in his mouth until his tongue became coated in a sheen of cum. Karniel stopped moving and just held the tip in his mouth, his tongue smearing those sticky strings of semen across his lips and mouth. The taste musky, earthy, so different from Mathus' blood but still sparking the same warmth and pleasure in Karniel. He swallowed a little, as Mathus' dick slowed after a few more paltry pumps of seed.

Karniel got off him and moved back around so he sat on his knees between Mathus' spread legs. His husband, dazed, stared dumbly at Karniel, panting, ribs rising and falling. Sweat coated his skin despite the winter cabin's chill creeping in the longer they kept the blankets off them. Karniel, mouth half full, wordlessly laid across Mathus, and Mathus took his head in his hands, guiding the bat into another kiss. Mathus moaned gently when Karniel shared his seed with him. Their tongues twisted together, quickly coated in a creamy film of semen and saliva. They passed the salty cum back and forth, lips pressing and seeking one another while their tongues languidly danced from one mouth to the other.

By the time Karniel let Mathus come up for air, his husband's dick had already stiffened up again. The bat's shaft nudged against Mathus' balls, dripping its own need. Mathus swallowed the cum in his mouth and whispered, “Are you going to fuck me or what?"

Karniel smirked and ran his tongue across a fang. “After such a delectable meal, I think I owe you that much, darling." They exchanged another kiss before Mathus spread his legs, fingers digging into his cheeks as he spread them. It revealed his soft, pink rim, already slick from sweat and itchy with needs of its own. Karniel used his one good hand to line his cock up—fat mushroom head wedged against that needy pucker. Mathus' ring clenched while Karniel grinded his shaft across his partner's crack, smearing precum all over his husband's entrance. Finally, Karniel wrapped his right arm under Mathus to hold him close, and began to push.

Countless penetrations made it easy for Mathus to yield to his husband. Pliant, soft flesh collapsed then molded around Karniel's cock. His drooling dick added more slick and wet to lube up that ring of muscle. Mathus groaned yet hooked his legs around Karniel's waist. His lips sought Karniel, an urgent kiss that slowed the bat's descent. Mathus' tongue twined with his, clearly seeking distraction to the albeit dry penetration. Karniel gave his lover a moment, letting that burn along his rim to dim, simmer to a pleasant heat. That itch for more took hold, and Mathus humped upwards while they continued their kiss.

That was Karniel's signal, and his hips worked again. Slow, circular, more and more of his length getting fed into Mathus' receptive body. Sweet fullness made Mathus a sloppy kisser, as the pressure on his backside wormed up into his prostate. He whimpered, lips quivering against the bat's, as that thick shaft grinded his prostate with ease. And still Karniel's dick twitched and spat, so much precum building up in Mathus' guts it began to leak from his stretched out entrance. His asshole yawned around Karniel's girth, caving in on every thrust and getting sucked outward when the bat pulled back. Finally, Karniel's balls rested fully on Mathus' butt, his cock hilted and leaving its outline along his lover's lower abdomen.

Mathus grabbed fistfuls of chocolate fur, holding onto Karniel's back as he moaned. Karniel simply admired how lost his little slut got when getting filled, then enjoyed the contracting flesh working up and down his meat. Slowly, Karniel hauled his cock from Mathus' body so he could jam it back in. They found a steady rhythm, working at a pace meant to savor every moment with each other. Mathus' dick throbbed and twitched, spurted precum onto Karniel's fur with each inward jab. His walls at first clenched in time to when Karniel pulled out, but eventually Mathus' lower body went a little numb, legs trembling just to keep themselves up. Karniel mashed his hips, churning up more heat and numbing pleasure through Mathus. Their pace steadily quickened.

Karniel broke their kiss to double his concentration on breeding Mathus thoroughly. The broken kiss left Mathus moaning loud enough for the others to hear them in the cabin. Karniel hardly cared. This small human body provided more rapture than the bat would have ever believed. His cock pent up by now, spitting precum so much his pubic fur had become matted, Mathus' hole a slick, musky mess of bat arousal. His left hand grabbed Mathus by the hair and tugged, getting a gasp as the human craned his head up, bared his neck again. So many fine scars dotted there, almost like a field of freckles that blossomed in the time they knew each other.

Each mark a sign of Karniel's claim over his husband. Each mark never enough. He bit down again, fangs pinching into flesh, and the burst of fresh blood sent Karniel over the edge just as the sensation of being fed upon caused Mathus to cum as well.

Karniel hilted his partner, his moans a muffled chorus to Mathus as his husband thrashed underneath him. His cock spilled several gouts of seed across Karniel while thick ropes of the bat's semen caused his stomach to blossom with a soothing warmth. That familiar sense of being bred, of bringing Karniel to completion, satisfied Mathus just as much as the orgasm. With Karniel still nursing his throat, Mathus kissed his husband on the brow, panting, “That's it… take, ah, as much as you need."

All while Mathus took more and more seed. Karniel's cock still throbbed inside him, each new pulse met with gooey warmth that soon made the outline of the bat's cock disappear as Mathus' abdomen swelled a little from the bat's potent load. Both men felt a wave of warmth and love wash over their bodies, the langor of exhaustion burning underneath. Karniel released Mathus' neck and licked a little at the still bleeding wound before Mathus guided him into another kiss.

Slowly, Mathus unhooked his legs from Karniel's waist, and the bat's orgasm tapered off. Karniel carefully rested on top of his beloved so he would not squish him with his weight. Mathus caressed his cheek and kissed him on the snout. “Thank you, I'm sure I'll sleep much better."

“Mmm, any time, my love."

Reluctantly, slowly, he pulled out of Mathus' rear. Both sensitive males shivering a little at the withdrawal. Mathus let Karniel roll him over so his bigger husband might spoon him. Karniel again hooked his leg over Mathus, the soft fur coating his bicep now the human's pillow. Karniel grabbed the blanket and threw it over them both before he whispered, “Rest now, darling. Nothing will ever harm you so long as I'm here."

“Mmmph," Mathus grunted. “Love you, Karniel."

“I love you, too, Mathus."

They both settled in, and Karniel patiently waited for Mathus to fall asleep. It did not take long, the man's breath becoming slower, deeper. Then gentle snoring that Karniel relished. He kissed Mathus on the head and settled in so he might sleep.

Only for a knock on the cabin's front door to make his ear flick.

Isolated with the help of spells and wards put in place centuries ago, the four bedroom cabin had been a spot Dialdon and Selvanna retreated to with other friends and lovers when in need of a retreat from the world.

All that said, they did not expect any visitors during their stay for the winter. They could not be scried, and the trails here were buried under snow and obfuscated by illusions meant to get wanderers lost.

The knock on the door repeated, denying Karniel the wish that he simply heard things. He quietly slipped out of bed, being sure to not wake Mathus. He went to their closet and grabbed a pair of trousers, pulling them on before he slinked out of their room.

Karniel reasoned an assailant would not bother politely knocking, but would have already tried to sneak inside the cabin. He crossed the hall to Cathka's room, finding it empty. He frowned and went to Selvanna's next. He opened the door and found two figures stirring as he called out, “Selvanna?"

The dragoness and hippogryph untangled themselves, and Karniel blanched. He pointed at them and asked, “Since when was this a thing?"

“Since tonight," Cathka said. “What's going on?" She already reached for the jade necklace resting on a nightstand.

Knocking came again from downstairs. “We have company."

“We what?" Selvanna hissed.

Karniel said, “Someone is knocking at our door. I don't know who, but I doubt any enemy of ours would be so courteous. Still, we should be ready for the worst."

Cathka signed a spell and clothes flashed into place on her. Dressed, she got up while Selvanna crossed the room to her poleaxe. She signed a similar spell, donning clothes in an instant before she asked, “What about Korlyon and Mathus?"

“I'm going to wake Korlyon so he can watch Mathus while we greet our guest," Karniel said before he went to the end of the hall. Korlyon did not take long to rouse, swords in his paws, naked as he was, he hurried to Mathus' side while Karniel went downstairs. He found Cathka and Selvanna waiting in the den with a lantern now lit. Cathka had her wings and arms hugged around her against the cold. Selvanna watched the door as another knock came.

She nodded to Karniel and he went to the door, hearing both women ready spells. Karniel touched the bracelet on his right wrist, and put his ear up to the door. Outside he could hear the wind howl and underneath the breathing of three other creatures. Karniel pulled away and called out, “Declare yourself and your business now, unless you would prefer a quick death."

“Master Karniel! It is excellent to hear your voice, though, these surface tongues still trip me up. What did you say?"

Karniel gawked at the door. He flipped away the chain lock at the top and yanked it open.

Wrapped in so many layers against the cold, the only parts of the scaly kobold exposed were the tip of his snout and tail. Srek threw out his arms and hugged Karniel's thighs tight, barely coming up to the bat's hips.

Behind Karniel, Cathka groaned like she just found the remains of some housepet squatting over and soiling an expensive rug.

Srek slubbed and nuzzled his face up and down Karniel's hips, purring. “I missed you and Master Mathus so much."

“No love for me, hmm?" Cathka asked, having lived in Pterodea long enough to put together what Srek said in his native tongue.

Srek turned and bowed, acknowledging her before he finally noticed Selvanna. The little kobold gasped, little hands covering his snout. Quivering, eyes huge, he just whispered, “You're… so… big!"

“Excuse me? Hey!" Srek leapt across the room to hug Selvanna next. Purring as he no doubt noticed her draconic warmth amidst all this cold.

“He's mostly harmless, Vanna," Cathka said behind him, but Karniel's attention remained on the two other hooded figures still outside. One wore the face of a lion, the other a gryphon without wings. Something about each threw Karniel off, their bodies hard to judge under the cloaks and clothes and packs they wore.

Watching them keenly as the pair watched him, Karniel asked, “Who are your friends, Srek?"

Had Karniel not kept his eyes on the pair, he might have thought he confused them, as the faces of each swapped to their partner: lion to gryphon and gryphon to lion. From that to human faces, and the one nearest to the door extended a pale hand to shake.

Karniel felt the urge to unsheathe his right hand.

The human who extended hers dropped it and said, “We do not mean to unsettle you, but do not want to hide what we are. I am Kahia, this is Haika, we are here because we are the ones who hid the Heart away in Mathus."

“His parents?" Karniel asked, looking between them.

Haika, the male, shifted back into a lion and said, “Obviously not his real ones, but we raised him, yes. We had hope to hide the Heart in him, attuned to a nobody and harmless. We did not expect you of all people to find him."

Haika and Kahia, part of a triumvirate of gods who shepherded lost souls until the Emerald Sage killed their sibling Ahkai, stole triumvirate's power, and forged the Emerald Cities. Karniel touched his bracelet, “And why are you here now?"

“Karniel!" Srek darted between them. He gestured to the pair, “They are here to tell us about the stars. Dea guided me to them, and now we must prepare."

“They are already beginning to make their way here," Kahia said and pointed up to the night sky. Karniel stepped out onto the snowy porch and saw, framed by parting clouds, two stars shining brightly in the night sky for the first time since Karniel slew the stars that tried to kill Mathus. They glared down at Karniel, twin pinpricks that caused his right hand to burn from the inside out.

Biting back his pain, Karniel stepped back through the doorway and waved inside, “Then come in and tell us what you know."

The fallen gods stepped through the threshold, introducing themselves to Cathka and Selvanna. Karniel glanced one last time at the watchful gaze of those stars. He spat into the snow and swore, “You'll never touch him long as I draw breath."

He slammed the door as if he shut it in their face. Still, in its pocket dimension, Karniel's right hand burned at an implacable pace that matched the heavens' slow yet sure descent.