FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

*****

Chapter One ( Prologue )

Ten years earlier…

*****

Deep in the night, Imperial Princess Nira hurried through dimly lit corridors. The grand palace at the heart of the Empire of the Black Star was eerily quiet, almost abandoned. The hallways were empty, with no sign of the heavily-armed guards usually posted at intersections and doorways to sensitive areas. Most of the brass gas-lit lamps lining the wood-paneled walls were extinguished, their gentle hiss silenced for the first time in memory. In the oppressive quiet, the only sounds were the swishing of Nira's dress, the whisper of her breath, and the loud echo of her footfalls against the white marble floor.

The echoes in particular went on a little too long, two echoing steps for every one of hers. A shiver racked her when she realized those were not echoes. Nira paused near the only lamp still working. It's flickering flame cast the entire hall in shades of ghostly orange, and seemed to draw the shadows in at the edges of its illumination. She listened, trying to determine how close her pursuer was. They continued for several heartbeats, but Nira could not parse if they were ahead of her, or behind her.

Nira made a snap decision, and hurried forward. She just needed to make it to her quarters, and her personal guards, and-

No sooner had she made up her mind than a large, hooded figure stepped out from an intersecting hallway, barring her path. Nira froze, setting her jaw. She could turn and run, but something told her she wouldn't get far. Besides, Nira had never in her life run from a fight. Why start now, she thought. Instead, she balled up her fists, and strode towards her taller adversary, sizing them up. In the darkness, it was hard to make out the fine details, but their large size told her it was a sturdily built man, wrapped in a deep green cloak, with a voluminous hood concealing his features.

Nira squared her shoulders as she neared him. “Are you trying to look menacing?" Nira forced strength into her voice, refusing to be intimidated. “Because you're going to have to try harder than that."

The man reached up and yanked back his hood, revealing a very inhuman visage. He was not a man at all, but a gnoll, a monstrous humanoid beast resembling something akin to a mountain bear crossed with a furious hyena. Beige-brown fur covered his broad head, with a bristly, ebony ruff down the back of his neck. Pointed ears flattened back in threatening display. Sharp golden eyes fixed upon her. The beast snarled, revealing the many sharp, canine teeth lining his muzzle.

Nira gulped, taking a step back. “That's actually far more menacing."

The gnoll surged towards her, from standstill to sprint in a single, smooth motion. Nira scrambled back, but the creature was too fast. It snatched her around the middle, hoisting her off her feet. Nira kicked and fought, then reached for the things face, intent on gouging its eyes out if she had to. In response, the gnoll dropped her back to her feet, only to snatch her by the throat. He shoved her back up against the wall, tightening his grip around her throat.

“Cut that out!" The gnoll lowered his head, his snarling, spittle-flecked muzzle inches from her face. His voice was coarse, but he spoke her language well. “Come along quietly, and you won't get hurt." He flashed his teeth, growling.

Nira glared into the monster's eyes, baring her teeth right back. “Better idea! You let me go, and you won't get hurt!"

The gnoll only snorted at her. He squeezed her throat, the dull claw tips at the ends of his fingers digging in painfully. “You think you can hurt me, Girl?"

Princess Nira scrabbled at his furred hand, trying to dislodge his fingers. “Let's find out!"

With that, Nira jammed her knee between the gnoll's legs with all the strength she could muster. Her assailant might not have been a man in the literal sense, but Nira was certain he was still male. She just hoped gnolls kept their assorted bits and pieces in the same place as humans did.

“AWWWWWH!"

The gnoll's startled, yowling cry told her they did. He released her throat and stumbled back, cross-eyed and doubled over. The beast's maw gaped wide, his tongue hanging over his sharp teeth. His ears splayed out, and the creature slowly sagged to his knees, clutching himself in both hands. Then he hunched forward, eyes still crossed, and gave a low, anguished groan.

At that point, Nira could no longer maintain her composure. She burst into raucous laughter, pointing at the stricken beast. “Oh Rog, you should see your face right now!"

The gnoll, named Rog, glared at her through watering golden eyes. “You weren't supposed to go full contact!" Rog rubbed himself, calling down the hall. “You really kneed me!"

“And you weren't supposed to slam me up against the wall." Nira rubbed her aching throat, grimacing. “Suppose we both got a little carried away." She glanced down the corridor, towards the hidden alcove where she knew Guard Captain Merriam was watching from. “How'd I do that time?"

“Quite well, your highness!" An older woman in a trim blue and black captain's uniform, and a pistol on each hip popped open the hidden door, and emerged into the passage. “That's the furthest you've managed to evade him, and the first time you've taken him down."

Rog groaned again, still clutching himself. “Only cause she kneed me in the fuckin' balls."

“Yes, I saw." Merriam slapped the gnoll over the back of his head. “And don't say 'fucking balls' around the princess."

“Yes, Rog!" Nira folded her arms, grinning at him. “It's quite improper to say 'fucking balls' around royalty. Who knows when I might pick up your bad habits?"

The gnoll only grunted, taking a few deep breaths. “Hilarious. That'd be a lot funnier if you hadn't just kneed my boys up around my ears."

That mental image left Nira laughing. “Oh, now that would be a sight to see."

“Wouldn't it?" Merriam rested her hands on her pistols. “Though, Rog's right. This isn't supposed to be a full contact exercise."

“Well, how else was I to find out if it works as well on gnolls as it does on human men?"

Rog shifted, moving to sit up against the wall, resting his head on a wooden panel. “Trust me, Princess, that's gonna work on anything with balls."

“Good to know." Trina smoothed out her indigo dress, and settled down alongside Rog. She patted his arm. “I'm sorry, though. I know you're just trying to help me learn to protect myself. I'll be more careful about holding back, next time."

Rog turned his head to offer her a pained hyena smile. “Thanks." He released himself to give Nira's hand a squeeze. “I'll be alright. Didn't really want pups, anyway."

Merriam rolled her eyes. “Oh, she didn't knee you that hard, you big baby."

“It's for the best, anyway." Nira gestured with her free hand. “Children are an immense responsibility, and you've got enough trouble on your hands just looking out for me. Besides." Nira glanced down the hall, still darkened. The other lamps wouldn't be turned back on till their evasion and defense exercises were complete. “Raising pups would just get in the way of your drinking time."

Rog barked laughter, though it quickly faded under Merriam's withering glare. “Yeah, uh, I don't know what you're referencing, your highness."

“Oh please, you're probably drunk right now." Nira giggled, twisting around to jab Rog in the ribs.

“Three ales is not drunk." Rog folded his arms. “You keep that up and I won't share with you, anymore."

“That's just as well." Nira made a show of turning her nose up. “Princesses don't drink, anyway."

Merriam scuffed her boots against the marble floor. “Oh, how I wish that were true."

“Oh, please." Nira pushed herself up to her feet, dusting off her dress. She turned and offered Rog her hand to help him up. “I wouldn't be half as much fun if I was sober all the time."

“I'll second that." The gnoll took her hand, and slowly rose up. He grimaced, flattened his ears, and adjusted himself through his breeches. “Ugh, my poor balls."

Nira glanced down, giggling. “Charming, Rog. Charming."

Merriam slapped the gnoll over the back of the head again. “Manners, mutt!"

“Yes, Rog!" Nira gave her furred bodyguard a sly smile. “Everyone knows it's horribly impolite to play with your fucking balls in front of a princess."

Merriam pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. “You're worse than he is. At least he has an excuse, you're just doing it to annoy me."

Nira turned to the older woman, and offered her sweetest, most innocent smile. “Why, doing what to annoy you, Guard Captain?"

The Guard Captain twisted up the corners of her mouth. “You're good at it, I'll give you that."

“Thank you!" Nira made the most polite, formal curtsy she could manage. Then she straightened up, punching the gnoll on the arm. “So, you ready to go again, or do you need a few more minutes?"

Rog stared at her, a smile gradually spreading across his toothy snout. “That's what she said."

“Hah!" Nira clapped her hands once. “I can always count on you to get my jokes."

The gnoll's grin widened. “And trust me, Princess, gnolls are always ready to go again."

“Oh, are they?" Nira quirked a brow.

“Alright, that's enough." Merriam snatched Rog's ear, twisting it till he yelped. “If you keep encouraging her, I'm going to tell her to go full contact with you the rest of the day."

“Ooh, that sounds like fun." Nira rubbed her hands together.

Rog batted Merriam's hand away, backing up. “Hey, so, about a different drill huh? Evasion and personal defense is good and all, but Princess here can't knee a whole invading army in the balls, yanno?"

“Rog!" The sudden sharpness in Merriam's voice silenced the gnoll in an instant. “Enough!"

Rog's eyes widened, then he gazed down at his own boots. “S-sorry, I…"

“I'm not stupid, you know." Nira lifted her head, fixing her gaze on Merriam. “You don't have to dance around it. I know…" Cold fingers squeezed her heart, and for a moment, stole her voice. When she finally found it again, each word was its own struggle. “I know…I know we're losing."

The Empire of the Black Star, once masters of half the known world, now clung only to a handful of territories outside their ancestral home. “I know they're coming." Nira leaned up against Rog, who gently put an arm around her. “It's why everything's so tense, why mother and father are always busy with the generals, why the home guard's fully deployed for the first time in all my life." She rested her head against Rog's chest, chuckling, a bittersweet sound. “It's why instead of getting to go drink in the taverns, I'm confined to the palace, being taught how to evade enemy soldiers and defend myself from assassins. They're…closing in on us, aren't they?"

Her only answer was silence, but it was all the answer Nira needed.

“That's what I thought."

Nira straightened again, taking a deep breath. Her heart hammered her sternum, and her stomach sucked up against her spine. She'd known for a while now that their once-great empire was going to fall, that the palace she called home was going to be invaded, and that all their lives would be in danger. But would good would it do her to sit around, paralyzed with fear? It wouldn't benefit her, and it sure as hell wouldn't help save her family, her friends, or her people. Nira wasn't about to start running from fights now.

“Rog's right." Nira pivoted on her heel to address her guard captain. She pushed aside her usual bawdy mirth, squaring her shoulders. “Learning to fight off kidnappers and assassins isn't going to be enough. So what say we skip to something that might really help save our lives, hmm?"

A smile twisted at the corners of Merriam's mouth. “So be it, your highness." She reached to her hips, unbuckling her hostlers. The guard captain drew one of her pistols, and handed it over to the princess. “We'll skip to the end. Safety's engaged, but nonetheless, finger away from the trigger, barrel away from us."

The princess reverently took the weapon, hefting it. It was heavier than it looked, but its weight was oddly satisfying. She'd fired such a thing a few times before, but never had any serious training. The Guard Captain's pistols were custom-crafted, revolvers of the finest make. Both were decorated with ebony, ivory, and gold, an elaborate, ornamental design that belied their functionality, and the heavy use they'd seen. A dragon was inscribed upon one handle, a gryphon upon the other. They represented two of the great winged beasts upon the backs of which the empire had been forged.

“They're double-action, right?" Nira glanced up at Merriam. “May I see the other, too?"

“They are." Merriam offered her the second pistol. “But you're gonna learn to use one properly and safely before you even think about using both. So don't go waving them both around."

Nira lifted both pistols, pointing them down the hall.

Merriam huffed, shaking her head. “Never were one for taking instructions. Alright, then. Let's go teach you how to shoot."

Princess Nira smiled.

*****

Chapter Two

The present…

*****

Nira grimaced, wishing she could drown out the loud, repeating chime of the warning bell. Her head throbbed in painful echo of every sharp, brassy toll. She pressed her forehead to the cool pane of the brass-lined porthole. The coolness helped soothe her headache, if only a little. Nira focused on the hazy, shapeless clouds drifting beneath them. Thinner clouds spanned the azure sky above in bands of icy white. There was little view to be had, today, but at least the clouds gave her something to concentrate on till her stomach stopped somersaulting.

Gods, she thought, she'd had way to much to drink last night.

“Ya'okay, boss?" A familiar, female voice drew her attention. “If yer gonna puke, I can git yer puke bucket."

Nira chuckled, straightening. She turned around to find Kasis, her chief navigator, intelligence officer, and trusted advisor, standing in the doorway to her private quarters. “I don't have a puke bucket, Kasis."

“Oh no?" Kasis scratched at her little horns with a few clawed fingers as she padded into the room. A smirk stretched across her blunt, finely scaled muzzle. “I figured someone who drinks that much would have a puke bucket."

“I don't drink that much," Nira said, taking a step towards Kasis. Immediately, she stubbed her toe on an empty wine bottle. “Ow!" Nira stumbled, wincing as the bottle rolled away across the floor. “That's been there."

“Yeah, I noticed." Kasis crossed her arms across her chest, leaning against the ebony doorframe. “Your booze hoard and your messy lair here's real princessy."

Nira settled onto her bed to rub her aching toes. “Yeah, I know, I know. I gotta clean it one of these days. Don't suppose you'd like to do that for me?"

Kasis nudged aside a discarded skirt and a pair of dirty breeches with her boot. “Pretty sure I'd get lost in here if I tried."

“Only cause-"

“No damn short jokes!" Kasis shook a single, clawed finger at her. “I get that enough from Rog."

Nira laughed and shook her head. Kasis was a kobold, a lizard-like race among the smallest of all the world's sapient species. And Kasis herself was on the short side, even by kobold standards. Dusky bronze scales covered her slender body from her blunt muzzle to her tapered tail. Small horns crowned her head. Indigo stripes ran from her eyes, across her ear holes, and down the back of her neck. A bevy of sharp teeth lined her snout, though they were but dull instruments compared to the sharpness of her tongue.

Kasis wore a dark gray and blue jumpsuit she'd tailored herself. It resembled a cross between an officer's formal uniform, and the sturdier gear the maintenance and engineering crews wore. A Black Star emblem marked one shoulder, with a navigator's compass and golden lines of rank emblazoned upon the other. Kasis was her bevy of pockets bulging with charts and various tools were hand-sewn onto the clothing, along with carabiners and latches designed to help her scale rigging, or any other part of the great ship they called home.

Nira set her foot back down, wishing she could ease the persistent ache in her head as easily. The once-plush maroon carpet beneath her bed was now obscured by evidence of far too much drinking, and not near enough laundry days. It had been a long time now since she had servants sweeping up her every crumb, and cleaning up her every minor mess. Lately, that minor mess had turned into a major one.

The warning bells sounded again, this time with two high, brassy chimes in quick succession. Nira winced, rubbing her temples. “Dare I ask what that means?"

The kobold licked her nose, glancing up towards the sounding tubes. “First was general alert. That one, though, that's potentially hostile incoming."

“Shit." Nira shot too her feet, grinding her teeth. “Lemme find my boots."

Kasis held her little clawed hands up. “Easy now, boss. We know who it is. And you ain't gonna be any use to anyone if you over do it and paint the hallways with whatever you got left in your stomach."

Nira pressed a hand to her belly at the thought. The worst of her nausea had faded, but the reminder didn't help. “Who is it then?"

“That white gryphon, again." Kasis rubbed her hands together, little tail twitching. “Amelia took the other birds out to try and intercept him. Two chimes probably means they're bringing him back."

So much for sleeping off the hangover, Nira thought. The white-feathered gryphon had been tailing them on and off for weeks. Last time they saw him, they'd fired a few warning shots in his direction, and he vanished into the clouds. The fact he returned anyway did not portend well. It indicated he was more than just curious or hoping to steal some supplies. While Nira knew the gryphon might well just be tracking their location for local authorities, she also knew it could be far worse. He might be spying on them in preparation for some kind of attack. The sooner they knew, the safer they'd all be.

“How far out are they?"

“No idea, but I figured I'd make sure you were awake." Kasis hooked a finger through a carabiner, idly tugging at it. “You want me to get Rog, too?"

“Please." Nira stretched her arms in front of herself. “I'll find my boots, and meet you by his quarters, then we can head down to the bay together."

“One's in the hall." Kasis vanished through the open door, only to return hefting a black leather boot. She tossed it onto the floor. “The other's probably in there, somewhere, unless you broke it off in someone's ass last night." She turned and left, tail flicking before it vanished into the hallway.

Nira laughed, fetching her boot. She shoved her foot into it, hopping around a few paces. Once it was snug, she bent over and swiftly tugged the straps and brass buckles into place. Then she straightened, gazing around her quarters, wondering where the hell she might have left the other. An expansive desk was were built into the wooden walls of one side of the room. Shelves, and display alcoves lined another wall. Both her desk and her shelves were overstuffed with all manner of books and charts, trophies and mementos. A globe covered intricate detail rested near one of several portholes. Maroon curtains surrounded each window, with thin, golden ties holding them open. Doorways lead to a closet, and to her personal bathing chamber where pipes brought water for her latrine, her sink, and hammered copper tub. She had a far more formal set of quarters and offices elsewhere on the ship, but she preferred to sleep in her cozy little room. The temperature was cooler near the outside of the ship, and the ever-present rumbles, clanks, and clatters were quieter. More importantly, here she was nearer to Rog and her other dear friends, to say nothing of the galley and the tavern.

Nira moved aside rumpled clothes, empty bottles, and piles of books, till she finally discovered her missing footware. The boot she'd worn only yesterday somehow lay beneath a green and gold dress she hadn't worn in weeks. How it ended up there, she'd never know. She flopped down onto the bed, putting on her boot. Nira brushed off her wrinkled, cream-colored blouse, and the black breeches she'd put on that morning after a quick bath. They were clean enough, and she didn't really have time to go digging for anything.

She rose up, and went to fetch her gear. She'd left her gun-belts and other weaponry atop her desk. As she approached it, she glanced over all the silver-hued portraits that occupied some of her shelves. They were held beneath protective glass, inside wooden frames. They were all old, from the days when she was princess of more than just an airship. Some of them were pictures of her alongside her mother, father, and sister. Another depicted her in a beautiful, flowing dress, standing alongside Rog, done up in elegant vests and coat and looking horribly displeased about it. The picture next to it was of the sprawling palace she once called home, all silvery windows and jagged towers. They were relics now, treasured memories of loved ones long lost, and a home lost with them.

Her throat tightening, she reached out and brushed her fingers across the image of her parents. Years later, and their memory still plunged frozen steel into her chest. Technically, she was probably an empress now, if she could but ever allow herself to admit they were gone. Not that it mattered, in the end.

Nowadays, the Empire of the Black Star consisted only of the grand flying city-ship Cataclysm.

It was an absolute behemoth of an airship, the largest the world had ever known, made with the pinnacle of her homeland's technological and engineering prowess. It was at first intended to be a great war machine, able to reign enough destruction to devastate entire armies. Nira imagined that was where the name came from. Partway through its creation, however, that all changed. Instead it became a sort of flying fortress, intended to shelter the Imperial family and government in times of strife.

She'd dubbed it the Cataclysm herself. Not for its firepower, but for a calamity of a different and far more personal sort. The night she boarded the ship, all she knew in life was torn apart, and her family was ripped away.

When the palace fell, no one from the Imperial Court made it onto that ship but her.

Nira snorted as she buckled her gun-belts on. Maybe it was a more fitting name than she cared to admit, she thought. She quickly checked each pistol, muttering to herself. “Safeties on, barrels pointed away." An obvious mantra, but one drilled into her head years ago. She checked that each was loaded, and the cylinders cycled properly. Then she took a moment to simply admire one of the weapons. It was a gorgeous piece of work, ornamented with ebony, ivory, and gold. A stylized dragon was engraved upon the handle, while its twin bore a gryphon in the same location. Though they looked decorative, they were anything but. They were sturdy, reliable, accurate, and worth more to Nira than she could ever put to words.

“Miss you, Merriam." Nira sniffed, swallowing back a lump in her throat as she slipped the weapons into their holsters. She buckled them into place, and turned for the door.

On her way out, Nira considered also fetching her saber, or at least a knife or two. She also thought about grabbing some spare cartridges, but decided against it. Kasis and Rog would already be waiting for her, and she didn't know how long they had until their 'guest' arrived. Besides, she thought, if she needed more than a dozen shots to put something hostile down, a sword probably wouldn't do her much good anyway.

Nira slipped out of her room and closed the door behind her. She hurried down the adjoining corridor. Lamps in glass and copper fixtures illuminated the dark wood-paneled hallway. Brass rails ran along either wall, something to grasp in case of turbulence. Increasingly threadbare carpets lined the floors, their formerly vibrant colors hidden under layers of dirt and years of trampling boots. A faint scent of smoke tinted the air, though Nira hardly noticed it. There were some things she'd simply gotten used to. There was the smells of smoke and oil, and of too many people living together. Then there was the noise, the constant rumbling, the rattles and clanks, and all the shuddering vibrations they caused. At first they'd nearly driven her mad. Now they were just another part of home.

Rog's quarters were a short walk from her own. She found Kasis standing just outside the gnoll's door. A bronze nameplate next to it read, Guard Captain Rog. In truth, ranks and positions were as much honorary as anything else. Everyone knew the basic hierarchy, everyone had a job to do, and everyone did their job. Their mutual survival and continued freedoms depended on it. But even Nira admitted there was something comforting in ranks and titles, something to strive for, or fear having taken away.

More importantly, it meant something to them. When she bestowed Merriam's old title on Rog, it brought the gnoll to tears. She'd known Rog all her life, grown up with him, and it was one of the few times she'd ever seen him cry. Merriam had meant something dear to him, too. Honorary or not, that title had a great legacy behind it, and Nira knew Merriam would have been happy to see Rog take over in her stead.

“He's still asleep." Kasis spoke up as Nira reached her. She thumped the door for emphasis. It was ajar, and creaked and slightly open at the impact. “I yelled for him, but…" A low, ominous rumble, nearly loud enough to rattle the windows and drown out the ship's engines reverberated from inside Rog's room. Nira laughed, more than familiar with the gnoll's infamous drunken snores. “Not sure he could hear me over the sounds of his whole head caving in."

Nira laughed, coming to a stop. “So why didn't you go in and wake him?"

“Cause he hates being woken up, and I'm half his size!" Kasis folded her arms, grunting. “He'd probably throw me across the damn room."

Nira tilted her head, looking the Kobold over. “You're a third his size, at best."

Kasis hissed through her sharp teeth and grabbed her crotch. “Why don't ya lick me, Princess?"

“And make your Vekk jealous?" Nira shrugged. “I'd never heard the end of it." She turned towards the door. “Fine, then. I'll go wake him."

“There's one other thing." Kasis gently grasped the hem of Nira's shirt to keep her from going in. “He's also completely naked."

Nira smirked down at the smaller female. “What are you, shy all of a sudden? I'd have half-expected you to sneak a peek."

“Oh, I tried!" Kasis released her shirt, her little tail swishing. “I ain't that I'm worried about seein' his goods. But I don't want him getting' pissed at me, for it. Besides." She stretched an arm out, admiring her own small claws. “He's laying on his belly, anyway, with his tail down. Couldn't see a damn thing."

The warning bell chimed two more times, reminding Nira that she didn't have all day to stand around bantering with her friend, as much as she wanted too. “Rog?" She called out, pushing the door open a little further. “Rog! Wake up, Rog!"

The door's opening revealed a sleeping chamber that was, to Nira's dismay, not as messy as her own. Most of the gnoll's dirty clothes occupied a single pile in one corner, and all of his empty bottles another corner, surrounding an overflowing bin, waiting to be refilled. The rest of his room was surprisingly tidy. The room was larger than hers, as it was originally intended to house someone of greater importance then the cozier room she picked for herself.

It held a large, round table with padded chairs sturdy enough for a gnoll, an graceful walnut sofa with garish crimson cushions, bookshelves lined with tomes, a desk with reading lights and another layered in bits and pieces of broken weaponry. One of the walls had been retrofitted to display a variety of firearms, and close combat weapons. An open cabinet held a variety of liquor bottles. Recessed shelving displayed some of Rog's favorite battle trophies, including an elegant silver helmet she recognized all too well. At the far end of the room was a large bed surrounding by a lopsided pile of sheets and blankets. And as promised, sprawled belly down on the bed was a very naked gnoll.

“Rog?" Nira called out again, lifting her voice. “Rog!" When the only response she got was another ship-shaking snore, she pushed false urgency into he voice. “Rog, Rog! Wake up! The ship's on fire! The princess is trapped, you have to save her!"

Rog snored louder.

Nira scowled. “Well, that's nice to know."

Kasis moved into the doorway, folding her arms. “Enjoy burning to death."

“Alright, time for plan B." Nira strode into the room, glancing around for something useful.

“You're gonna roll him over and let me smack him in the powder bag?" Kasis chittered laughter, thumping her tail against the doorframe.

“Now that would get you tossed across the room." Nira found a wooden mug, full nearly to the top with clear liquid. She sniffed, and certain it was only water, approached the slumbering gnoll.

“Yeah, you're right. You better smack him, instead." Kasis waved her hand towards the bed. “You sure he's not gonna be pissed about us seeing him naked and all?"

Nira glanced at the kobold over her shoulder before. “Oh, I've seen Rog naked before. Besides, he's going to be a lot more pissed about this."

Before she could think better of it, Nira poured the entire mug of water onto Rog's head in one sudden cascade. The gnoll bolted upright, yowling and flailing his arms. Nira burst out laughing, and Kasis joined her. The princess stumbled back out of range to make sure Rog wouldn't inadvertently smack her. His sopping ears swiveled towards the sound of her laughter. He rose onto his knees, glaring at her and wiping water from his muzzle.

“The fuck, Princess?"

Nira set the cup down on his table, still giggling. “You slept through the warning chimes, and us yelling at you. Had to wake you up somehow."

“Warning chimes?" Rog flattened his ears, wiping his eyes with the back of a furry hand. He blinked a few times, and then his golden eyes settled on Nira's pistols. “What's happening?"

“Not totally sure." Nira pulled out a chair, and dropped into it. “Think the birds are bringing in that white gryphon. You wanna put some clothes on and meet us down at the bay?"

“Wait, clothes?" Rog looked down at himself, ears flattened again. “Oh, sorry." He snatched a pillow off the bed, and used it to cover himself.

“Nothing to apologize for." Nira waved at the room around them. “It's your quarters, after all."

“I dunno," Kasis said, still leaning against the doorway. “You could apologize for using that pillow that way. I was kinda enjoying the view."

“Suit yourself." Rog tossed the pillow back and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “Lemme get some clean clothes."

From the way Kasis' eyes widened, she hadn't expected him to take her sarcasm literally. Then again, she didn't look away, either. Nira watched him for a few moments while he wandered around. As she told Kasis, it was hardly the first time she'd seen Rog nude. Gnolls weren't exactly known for their shame, while Nira was about as far away from bashful as could be. And she'd known him nearly her whole life. She'd certainly look away if he wished it, but if he didn't care, neither did Nira.

Without clothes, it was easier to see the intricacies of gnoll coloration and anatomy. Though his fur was roughly beige-brown, it was darkest along his back, and paler across his face, chest and belly. Black spots and blotches mottled his back from his shoulders down to his rump, and bushy, brown-furred tail. Muscles rolled beneath his hide. Rog's legs and feet were digitigrade, a fancy word she picked up from an anatomy tome she'd once read during a period of boredom. It that simply meant they were designed more like those of a canine than a human man. Which, she noticed, also described what rested between his legs.

Rog soon pulled on a black tunic, with a few silver buttons at the top. He fetched a matching pair of breeches, tugging those on next. He buttoned them, then dug boots out from under his bed. Most of Rog's attire and equipment was made to fit gnolls. His clothing lacked the latches and extra pockets that Kasis' had, but Rog wasn't about to go clambering up any rigging or crawling into maintenance shafts, either. He went to his wall of weaponry, looking it over, and finally reached out to remove a massive, double-headed axe from its display rack.

“You're bringing that thing?" Nira stood up behind him.

“Figure you got the guns covered." Rog turned around, hefting his battleax. It was simple, but very well made, with a sturdy, ebony handle and very well honed blades. Rog had fancier weapons, and plenty of firearms, too. But he had an affinity for the weapons of old, from the days when his people were raiders. Back then, gnolls were best known for pillaging the so-called civilized lands, long before Nira's empire brought them powder, and and all the terrible weaponry it birthed. “I'll bring one if you want."

“It's one gryphon," Kasis said, licking her bronze-scaled nose. “Boss's got her guns, plus our birds will be there, and so will Amelia. I think we're good."

“Right." Rog rested his axe over his shoulder. “Ready, then." He walked up alongside Nira, smiling, then gave a playful wag of his tail. “Just like old times, huh Princess?"

“Something like that, Rog."

*****

Chapter Three

*****

Nira lead her friends through the familiar labyrinth of corridors and brass rails, lit by flickering lamps in brass fixtures. As they passed by the deck's kitchens, the scents of sizzling meat and baking bread wafted through the hallway, temporarily replacing the more astringent smells so common to the airship's halls. The scent made her stomach rumble. All her earlier nausea had already transitioned into hunger, as if by miraculous transmutation. Nira tried to ignore the hunger best she could, hoping the pendulum that was her indecisive stomach didn't swing back in the other direction just as quickly. She couldn't make a very imposing impression if the first thing their prisoner saw was the princess vomiting all over the floor.

The quickest way to their destination involved a taking a lift. Nira knew that wouldn't sit well with Kasis, and so kept a close eye on her. The closer they drew to the lift bank, the more agitated Kasis' tail twitches became. Nira also knew if it was up to Kasis, she'd sooner climb into the shaft itself and clamber down the assemble of gears, cables and pulleys. Hell, she'd seen Kasis do just that before, only to get yelled at by the mechanics later. Since then, the small kobold had taken to scrambling up and down the stairs as swiftly as she could, no matter how many flights she had to take. But Nira wasn't about to descend half a city-ship worth of stairs.

“Hey, uh…" Kasis came to a stop once the chipped red and gold paint of the lift doors came into view. “I'll meet you two down in the bay, right?"

“That'll take you ages, or you'll stumble and break something cause you're trying to keep up with us." Nira glanced at the dials above the doors that indicated which deck the lift was on. The arrow's slow downward tick indicated the platform was already descending towards their deck from an upper level. She decided against ringing the service bell, and instead held her hand out towards the kobold. “Come here. I'll hold your hand." There was no trace of sarcasm or derision in her voice. She wasn't teasing her friend, just offering a genuine comfort.

“Yeah, Kas." Rog hefted his axe over his shoulder, then extended his own larger hand. “I'll hold the other one. You can stand between us."

Kasis held her hands up, her little pinkish palm pads exposed. “That's sweet and all, but holdin' onto me ain't gonna do me any good when those cables break."

“Oh, we'll be fine, I promise." Nira waggled her fingers in invitation. “The chances of another mishap are awfully small, especially after the repairs. And no one was seriously hurt last time, either."

“You promisin' is only jinxin' it." Kasis folded her arms, her tail tip flicking back and forth in time with her heart. “I'll take the stairs."

Before Kasis could actually head for the nearby stairwell, a rumbling clatter in the walls announced the impending arrival of a lift platform. Unseen cables squeaked, and a silver bell chimed sharply as the lift shuddered to a stop. The battered, red and gold doors slowly parted, revealing a small, familiar, grease coated figure. The new arrival was taller than Kasis, but not by much.

“Oh! Perfect!" The little figure scurried out, wiping his hands off on his grimy jumpsuit. “Just the boozed up Princess I was looking for."

Nira laughed and shook her head. “Hello, Vekk. You caught us just as we were headed to the Bay."

Vekk was an urd'thin, another of the many thinking peoples who crewed Nira's ship. Along with the kobolds, urd'thin were among the smallest folk in the known world. They were furred, like the gnolls, though if Rog's people were akin to hyena-bears, urd'thin were closer to fox-rats, with a few unique details of their own. The average urd'thin had pointed ears that looked too large for their heads. They also had short horns just above their eyes, big, dark eyes, and thick, silken fur.

To Nira's mind, Vekk's coloration always reminded her of a gray fox. Most of his face and muzzle were gray, palest around his eyes, and fading to a cream color along his throat. Black streaks marked the sides of his nose and tipped his otherwise rusty-red ears. The same rust-like hue covered the back of Vekk's head and neck. The bushy gray fur of his tail made it look as if it weighed nearly as much as the rest of him, with a black stripe down the back of it.

Vekk wore a mechanic's jumpsuit laden with pockets, loops, carabiners, latches, and more. Tools both visible and hidden rattled whenever he moved. Whatever the color the garment once was had long since been lost beneath countless layers of grease, dirt, grime, and probably blood. Vekk was technically her chief engineer, though he'd only accepted the title on the grounds he was able to continue his day to day work as a ship's mechanic. Considering he was her best mechanic, Nira was more than willing to make that concession.

There were multiple squads of mechanics on board the ship, and Vekk was in charge of all of them. They were mostly made up of urd'thin like him. His people were naturally mechanically inclined, and made for maintenance crew, boiler operators, and general engineers as well. Most mechanic squads also had at least one gnoll or other larger species amongst their ranks to help with the heavier lifting and harder labor. For the urd'thin, though, their jobs usually entailed climbing into places both hazardous and filthy. Some of them were too small for the larger mechanics fit into, while others were too high, or simply too dangerous for the less brave amongst them.

“That's why I was coming to find you! Make sure you direct the birds to return to the same bay they left. That's bay three." Vekk shook a single, grease-stained finger at Nira. “Do not, I repeat, do not under any circumstances, attempt to open the doors of bay four." He dropped his hand back down, shrugging and glancing away. “Or the door'll fall off."

Nira blinked, staring down at him. “Excuse me?"

“The door'll fall off!" Vekk spoke louder, as if he believed that Nira simply hadn't heard him.

The princess took a deep breath, then let it back out in a disbelieving sigh. “What? Why?"

“He just told you." Rog nudged her, flashing her a mischievous grin. “If you try and open it, the door will fall off."

Nira jabbed his arm with her elbow. “Yes, thank you, Fuzz Nuts, I heard that."

“I think she means," Kasis said, striding swiftly towards the urd'thin. “Why the hell is the damn door going to fall off?"

“You know, cracked this, shattered that." Vekk pivoted to the kobold, a big smile on his muzzle. “And hey there, Sunset! Didn't see you back there."

“She was hiding from the elevators." Rog rested his axe handle against the floor. “I keep telling her, they don't eat kobolds."

“I was not hiding from them!" Kasis shot the gnoll a searing glare, only to snap her focus back to Vekk as the urd'thin walked towards her. She hissed at him. “Don't you even think about it!"

Ignoring her protest completely, Vekk strode right up and kissed the side of her muzzle, leaving a tiny smear of dark grass against her bronze scales.

Kasis shoved his muzzle away, laughter replacing her hiss. “Ew! I keep telling you, not when you're all greasy from work."

Vekk wiped his muzzle off with his dirty sleeve, grinning. “Better?"

Kasis's eyes narrowed inside their indigo stripes as she stared at his filthy sleeve. “Worse, I think."

“Love you too, Sunset." Vekk backed up a few paces towards the lift. “Come on. I'll keep you safe. Promise."

Kasis and Vekk had been lovers for at least a year now, and Nira still didn't know where the pet name Sunset came from. It might well have been a reference to her dusky bronze scales, or an inside joke, or even the first time they kissed, or mated. Not that she'd ever asked. Though Vekk used the term in public, the term of endearment seemed to have more private meaning, and she wasn't about to pry or intrude.

After a few moments spent warily eying both Vekk, and the lift, Kasis finally sighed. “Oh, alright." Vekk entered the lift chamber, and Kasis followed him inside. He wrapped his arms around her middle, and pulled her up against his chest. This time, Kasis didn't seem to mind just how much of the day's grease and grime he was sharing with her. She rested her hands across his head, leaning her little horned head back against him. “Thank you."

“Of course!" Vekk rested his muzzle between her horns.

“You two are adorable." Nira followed them in, waiting for Rog before closing the doors. The lift was a square cubicle, with more brass handholds and dirty, mirrored walls. Once the doors were secured, Nira rang the bells indicating their destination, waited a moment, and rang them twice more. “Ready, Kasis?"

“No, but-URK!" Kasis gave a little yelping noise when the lift lurched downwards. Cables creaked, and gears whined somewhere around them. The whole thing shuddered. “You did that on purpose!"

“Yup." Nira laughed to herself.

“You want support too, Princess?" Rog reached towards her, waiting. “You don't wanna fall over again when it stops."

“That only happened once," Nira said, rolling her eyes. “And I was very drunk. Now I'm just hung over. She glanced back at the gnoll, moving a little closer. “That said, doesn't hurt to be safe." Rog circled his arm around her waist. He pulled her up against his own powerful body, gently holding her in place. Nira set one of her hands across his own, idly tracing his fingers with hers. “Thanks."

Rog smiled at her in the grimy mirror. “Any time, Princess."

As the lift continued down, Kasis appraised herself in the dim reflection, tilting her head back and forth. Grease marks now marred her navigator's uniform in a number of places. “You know, Vekk, you might be keepin' me safe and all, but you're also getting' me awfully messy."

The gnoll burst out laughing. “Yeah, that's what she-"

“Shove it up your dog-hole!" Kasis snapped her teeth at him.

Rog kept talking, undeterred. “I bet he was planning to make you messy later anyway, right Vekk?"

Vekk tilted his head up, staring at the larger male. “As a perfect gentlemen, I've no idea what you might be referring to, good sir."

“Smart answer," said Nira, patting Rog's hand.

Kasis growled at the gnoll anyway. “You know, you might be twice my size, but that just means I'm at the perfect height to slug you right in the cargo satchel!"

Rog only grinned at her. “You gonna stand on Vekk's shoulders to reach?"

“Nah, he's gonna help! I'll go left, he'll go right!"

The gnoll snorted. “Gonna kneecap me, huh?"

Kasis waved a clawed hand at him. “Keep up the short jokes, and I'm gonna use 'em like a damn rope swing!"

That one had Rog wincing and laughing at the same time. He bowed his head, ears back in playful gnoll submission. “Alright, alright, you win. And hey! Look! We're here."

Nira glanced at the dial just in time to see it's indicator hand stop at the deck where bay three was located. The platform lurched to a stop, and when the creaking and rattling of cables and gears ended, Rog released her waist. She moved to the door and opened it, then let Rog, Kasis, and Vekk exit before she followed them.

On the way out, Kasis glanced up at Rog with a sheepish looking smile. “Thanks for the distraction, though."

“You're welcome, little lizard." Rog hefted his axe, waiting on Nira.

“Seriously though, the short jokes are gonna get you punched in the pears one of these days."

Nira took the lead again, letting her friends banter as they followed her. Dirty lamps illuminated signs in faded orange light. Nira glanced at the signs. Golden lettering indicated the deck's various bays and holds, with arrows pointing the way to each. Nira hadn't needed any of the ship's signage in nearly a decade now, but she habitually took stock of them nonetheless. She followed the arrow pointing towards bay three.

The area commonly referred to as The Bay occupied several decks in the ship's lower reaches. It was actually a series of separate but enormous docking bays and cargo holds. Much smaller craft once filled the docking bays, but most of them had been long since scavenged for spare parts and supplies or otherwise repurposed. Only one of the bays still had working ships. Those were maintained well enough for supply runs and crew transport when they were in safe lands, but without a facility large enough to dock the cataclysm. Several of the other bays now served as living space for their largest crew members. They were numbered, and three and four were often used as staging and departure points before supply runs, or other off-ship missions. Though from the sounds of things, they were down to a single working set of bay doors.

Broken doors would have to be added to the nearly endless list of repairs, restorations, and refurbishments the great vessel constantly required. When she'd first boarded, forced to flee her fallen homeland, the interior of the ship was gorgeous. It was, after all, designed to house the Imperial family, along with their ministers and their own families, plus servants and crew. But a decade of use with few opportunities for drydocking, refurbishments, or extensive retrofitting meant the ship had definitely attained a lived-in sort of look. It wasn't exactly a floating slum, but nor was it a flying palace anymore. Still, the important thing was that it still flew, it still kept them safe, and it still gave them all a home.

It was strange to think that the only remnants left of the once mighty Empire of the Black Star were a solitary princess, and a small army's worth of creatures most of the world once saw as monsters. Hell, for all Nira knew, most of the world still saw gnolls and kobolds as marauders, thieves, and murderous beasts. Perhaps it was once a reputation well-earned. Maybe in some parts of the world, it still was. But Nira had always known them as so much more. Where the rest of the continent saw monsters, The Black Star saw an army. And long, long ago, that army helped conquer half the world. For their service to the empire, the 'monsters' had earned citizenship, and a nation that saw them as they truly were. People, like any other. Or at least, they had been for century, or so. Now, all that was undone.

Nira sighed, and tried to push the thoughts aside. She didn't like to think about what had happened to her home. To Rog's home. She could only hope that things had at least settled down, and for the average citizen, they'd returned to something akin to normalcy. Still, if grievous wrongs were so easily forgiven, they never would have been invaded in the first place.

A murmuring din rolling down the wood-paneled corridor drew her attention. A sizable crowd had gathered up ahead, near the entryway to bay three. It looked like the alarm chimes had half the ship turning out to see if the birds were returning with a prisoner. There were urd'thin and gnoll mechanics, all in grease-stained jumpsuits. Some of the gnolls had immense wrenches, hammers, and other tools hanging from their clothes. Nira wondered if they'd been working on the broken door Vekk warned them about. A couple tall, scaly va'chaak cargo workers stood around, as well. A few kobolds in various uniforms had climbed up stacks of crates shrouded in cargo netting. Nira was pleased to see that none of the ship's gunnery officers or cannoneers were there. The chimes should have sent them all to their stations, just in case.

“Move aside!" Rog called out, his deep, snarling voice reverberating down the hall. “Princess coming through!"

The crowds ahead quickly parted, many offering greetings as Nira and friends passed. She did her best to return as many greetings as she could, though she gave up on that when three loud, sharp chimes rang out above the noise of the crowd. Nira picked up her pace, boot heels thumping against the floorboards in quick staccato rhythm.

“That's the close-in warning bells." Kasis hurried along at Nirra's side, needing two swift steps for every one the princess took.

“I know." Nira set her jaw, and tensed, listening intent. When no cannons or other gunfire rang out, she relaxed again, but only slightly. That just confirmed their suspicions that it was likely Amelia returning, and escorting in a prisoner. “Let's just hope whoever she's bringing back behaves themselves."

Ahead of them, a female gnoll in old studded armor and with a rifle slung over her shoulder pulled open one of the large sliding doors to bay three. Nira thanked her, and asked her to secure the doors again behind them, until they knew who, and what, they were dealing with. As soon as the four of them passed through the door, the gnoll did as asked. The door slid shut behind them, and the locking bars clicked into place.

Cold wind swirled inside the rectangular bay, rustling her clothes and buffeting her hair. Nira pushed dark strands out of her eyes, looking around. Wooden crates and iron-banded barrels lined the room. They were stacked in neat, orderly rows, lashed together with heavy ropes and further secured with layers of cargo netting. A handful of armored gnolls and va'chaak stood guard, hefting heavy rifles. They gave Nira casual salutes, but quickly refocused their attention on the ramp leading to the outside world.

Thick, woven landing pads lined the long ramp leading to the exterior doors, already open. Low-lying clouds drifted by beneath them. The Cataclysm wasn't flying all that high, but this part of the world often saw low, thick cloud cover. It helped keep them hidden, but it also meant that somedays they had to rely on Kasis and her topographic charts to ensure they weren't about to fly into a mountain. Nira took a step towards the ramp, peering down at the clouds. Even after years aboard the ship, seeing them from above still-

All at once, a great, gray-feathered beast erupted from the clouds, leaving them swirling in its wake. Massive wings beat the air, and the creature shot straight up into the opening, snatching at the ramp. Sharp black talons dug into the woven mats, catching hold. Nira scrambled back at the beast swiftly scaled the ramp.

“Back! Get back!" The creature snapped a sharp black beak, pushing Rog back with an outstretched wing, sweeping Nira aside with a feathered tail. “Here they come!"

Nira knew the beast, of course. Her name was Lissir, and she was one of several female gryphons aboard the ship. Pale gray feathers covered her vaguely hawk-like head, and neck, while her vast wings were a far darker gray, peppered with black. Her colors grew paler still across her chest and underbelly, where the feathers gradually gave way to silken fur. The same soft gray fur coated all four limbs, with her hind legs darker than her front, and her tail feathers nearly black.

Lissir's pointed ears swiveled towards the ramp, and she turned towards it, hunkering down into a defensive crouch. “Be ready!"

“For what?" Nira swiftly unbuckled one of her pistols and drew it, just in case. For now, she kept the safety engaged, and the barrel pointed at the floor.

Before Lissir could answer, a second gryphon emerged from the wall of clouds, thumping soundly onto the landing ramp. This one was a little larger and bulkier than Lissir, which indicated it was probably male. Both his feathers and his fur were stark white almost everywhere, from his avian head all the way to his tail. Ebony tips lined the feathers of his tail, and his wings, as if they'd been delicately dipped in ink. As soon as he had his claws in the landing pad, he froze, then hissed up at Lissir, yellowy beak part.

Lissir hissed right back at him. “Get up here, down on your belly! Now!"

“Perhaps you should make me!" Instead of moving up the ramp, the white gryphon held his ground. “I bet you won't be so tough without your friend pointing her rifle at me!"

Nira lifted her pistol in a single, smooth motion, flicking off the safety. She aimed it at the gryphon, and following her lead, all the gathered guards did the same with their own guns. “Does as she says, Bird."

The male gryphon snapped his attention to Nira, bright blue eyes focusing on her pistol. He glanced at the other guards, then gave a low, frustrated snarl. “Oh, very well."

As he dragged himself up the ramp, Nira moved to the side, making room. Lissir pivoted to continue facing him, her own reddish eyes narrowed and fixed upon the male. At least, Nira assumed he was male. A quick glance back between his hind legs confirmed her suspicions. She took a few steps back, waving for her guards to do the same. She wanted to keep plenty of room between them just in case the white gryphon decided to try his luck, or worse, go down fighting.

Lissir took a breath, then gave a sharp, keening cry. In the closed confines of the docking bay, the sound was painfully loud, smothering the rushing wind as it reverberated off the walls. From outside the ship came an answering cry. A moment later, and Lissir's sister Sivik finally hurtled up out of the clouds. Where Lissir and the white male thumped down onto the ramp, Sivik alighted delicately, claws curling into the traction mates.

Sivik was a little smaller and thinner than her sibling, and with colors in opposing pattern. Where Lissir was dark, Sivik was pale, and vice versa. Sivik's head and forepaws were like dark storm clouds, her wings and tail like pale ash. Dark barring marked the underside of her wings. She shared her sister's striking reddish eyes, but where Lissir preferred to fly unencumbered, Sivik often carried a rider.

Today was no exception, as Sivik carried the ship's finest long distance sharpshooter, a human woman named Amelia. Amelia currently sat buckled into a custom flight saddle, strapped around the gryphon with a patchwork harness of black leather and brass buckles. She wore a long, fur-lined leather flight jacket, with supply pouches and belts of spare rounds tucked away inside. Flight goggles clung to her face as she kept her long-barreled rifle snug against her shoulder. Amelia sighted down her rifle at the male gryphon as Sivik crested the ramp.

“Down, spy!" Amelia snarled, her rifle following the male gryphon's every move. “On your belly! Now! I warned you twice already, you want me to blow your fuckin' gryphon nuts off?"

The male gryphon spun away from her, backing up till his hind end bumped against a stack of netting-clad crates. “Let me guess, they only keep you around for your descriptive threats?"

Nira drew her second pistol, flicked the safety off, and fired a single shot down the vacated ramp, out the opening. The report was deafening, its echo nearly as loud. The white gryphon cried out, clapping a paw over one of his sensitive ears. The others winced, but the shot had the desired effect, drawing everyone's attention back to her, and for a moment, shutting them up.

“You." Nira waved one of her pistols at the male gryphon, her voice as white-hot as her pistol's smoking barrel. “Amelia ain't joking. The next bullet fired is going in you. So do as she says, and get your feathery ass down on your belly." She softened her tone, just a little. “No one needs to get hurt. Not us, not you."

The snowy gryphon glared at her, but slowly did as she asked, easing himself down onto his belly. He stretched his forelegs out before, then turned his forepaws over, his pinkish pads exposed, and claws retracted. “Very well. I am yours."

“Damn right you are." Amelia kept her rifle leveled at his head, even as she spoke to Nira. “This is him, alright. The one that's been spying on us. He tried to speed off when we intercepted him, so I fired a warning shot right over his head. Made sure he knew he couldn't outfly a bullet. Made him follow Lissir back so we could find out who he is, and why the fuck he's been following us."

“Good work, you three." Nira tucked one pistol away, glancing around. “Everybody good?"

She got quick confirmation from everyone but poor Vekk. The urd'thin was busy rubbing both his oversized ears, wincing. When he spotted her looking at him he paused, head tilted. “What'd you say?"

Nira signaled for a few of the guards to start closing the door. “I said, are you good? Your ears alright?"

“What?" Vekk raised his voice. “Speak up!"

Kasis put her hand on Vekk's shoulder. “He needs a minute! He'll be alright."

Nira turned her attention back on the gryphon, advancing towards him. Rog followed at her side, his axe hefted in both hands. “Alright then, you heard Amelia. Who are you, and why the fuck are you following us?"

The white gryphon only tilted his head. “I'm an aeronautical enthusiast."

“Uh huh." The princess idly spun her pistol around her fingers. “No name, huh? You got a rank or anything you wanna give us, instead? Cause I'm guessing you're not exactly some wandering hunter from a local clan."

The gryphon only shrugged his black-edged wings.

“Fine then." When Nira's pistol was a little cooler, she flicked the safety back on and tucked it away. “I'm gonna call you Snowballs."

Snowballs hissed at her. “Don't you dare!"

“It fits." Savik flicked a wing towards him, gesturing with it. “He's a snow gryphon, and he's male. And he's a city bird, so he's probably an easily offended prude."

Nira shot the female a grin. “I didn't think gryphons could be offended, let alone prudish."

“I am not prudish!" Snowballs thumped a paw against the ground. “Nor am I-"

“He's probably a virgin, too." Lissir settled onto her haunches, her beak parted and ears splayed in smug gryphon smile. “I don't think he's very old. Educated. Probably brainwashed."

Snowballs turned his head to Lissir, growling at her. “I am not brainwashed."

Lissir tilted her head. “So you are a virgin."

At nearly the same time, Sivik asked, “Have you mounted and fucked anyone yet?"

“No!" Snowballs slapped his paw against the floor again, only to realize what he'd said. He snapped his beak at Sivik, flattening his ears at her laughter. “I was answering the other question!"

Sivik turned her head to make a show of preening one of her pale gray wings. “It's just the same. I hear snow gryphon males are finished as soon as they started, anyway."

“So, city bird?" Nira glanced at the two females. “Is that in the literal sense?"

Lissir nodded, following her sister's lead and preening. “Yeah. Raised among humans, basically. A lot of snow gryphons are. Golden Union used to breed them as mounts and pets."

“Watch your mouth!" Snowballs shook himself, snarling. “We're-"

“Golden Union?" A shiver ran through Nira's core, and anger blossomed in its wake. “You're fucking Golden Union?" She stormed towards the gryphon, a hand already on her pistol again. “They sent you after us?"

“Easy, Princess," Rog said, curling an arm around her waist to hold her back. “He can't tell us nothin' if you blow his brains out."

Amelia smiled from behind her rifle. “Why do you think I was aimin' for his nuts?"

Nira took a deep breath, trying to tamp down on her anger. The Golden Union was responsible her homeland's ruin, for her life's greatest cataclysm. But up until now, they'd had a truce, of sorts. They hadn't come after her, and she hadn't turned the Cataclysm against them, or made any attempt to return home and take her throne. So why the hell would they start sending spies after her now?

When she'd collected herself, Nira patted Rog's hand. She was thankful for his comfort. Strange that a gnoll, a creature once known for violence and fury, could be so calming to her. When Rog released her, she advanced on the gryphon again.

“Alright, Bird. Either you start talking?" She jerked her thumb at Rog. “Or my gnoll friend here starts lopping things off with his axe."

Rog flashed the gryphon a toothy grin, hefting his battleax. “See, Princess? Told you this would come in handy."

*****

Chapter Four

*****

Nira glared at the white-feathered gryphon, her blood boiling. If he truly worked for the Golden Union, she'd never be able to let him go. The Golden Union was the name given to the grand coalition of nations had overthrown the Empire of the Black Star. Where once Nira's people ruled half the known world, now there was only the Golden Union. They believed themselves heroes, and liberators. But Nira saw only self-righteous bullshit. For every so-called freedom they granted, came another they took away. To free one village, they'd burn another. Gnolls and kobolds slaughtered, their deaths praised as the vanquishing of 'monsters'. The great dragons sent by the Empire to rule over provinces called out as demons, and hunted down by dragon-slaying warships. Cathedrals built atop the nesting grounds of 'vermin', worship of their gods enforced by steel and lead.

Maybe they'd had good intentions, once. Though the Empire saw its ancestral conquests as bringing peace to a once-divided region, and gave those once seen as monsters a chance to be seen as people, not everyone saw it that way. Oceans of blood were shed during a century of expansion, but a century more had passed since. Still, Nira was not naïve. She knew those were wounds even time could not heal.

And yet, the Union had a chance, in Nira's youth, to end their own campaign far earlier. The Empire offered them a peace treaty, a chance to not only keep their early territorial gains, but to work with the Empire to negotiate, to try and resolve all their myriad differences without further bloodshed. But the Union refused. To all their self-righteous leaders, Empire itself was just another monster to be slain for their so-called gods.

Nira hated the Union. They'd torn her home apart, murdered most of her family, her friends, slaughtered her people. They'd forced her from her home, and though they had not pursued her over the last decade, neither was she welcomed in any land they, or their allies controlled. She wasn't even allowed to try and communicate with survivors back home. She knew her sister lived, but little else.

Yet what sometimes angered Nira the most about the Union was their hypocrisy. They claimed themselves saviors, righting the wrongs of history, and yet all they did was commit the very same atrocities they swore they were avenging. Nira knew it didn't take a damn historian to see how this was all going to play out. Someday, long after she was gone, some band of rebellious rabble would rise, forge an army, and annihilate the union.

The cycle of bloodshed would continue, and Nira wanted no part of it.

When she first took over the airship, she wanted to avenge her family, to attack the Union, to raise an army and fight back. Over the years, she'd accepted the fact to do so would be suicide. Now, her responsibility was to the ship's crew. In its own way, the Cataclysm was the Empire of the Black Star. These people, these so-called monsters, they were her family now, and the would do everything in her power to keep them safe.

And if this Union spy of a gryphon put them in danger? She'd put a bullet in his brain herself.

“Alright, Bird." Nira drew her pistol, the one with the gryphon on it, and tapped it's barrel against her holster. “Talk, before Rog starts lopping claws off. You work for the Union?"

The gryphon did not reply at first. Instead, he made a show of stretching out his forelegs. A great yawn split his yellow beak, and he splayed his massive front paws, long brown talons unsheathed. “These claws?" The gryphon tilted his head, sizing Rog up. “He'll have to get awfully close."

The beast's size dismayed her. He was bigger in every way than her own gryphon friends. Hell, much as she hated to admit it, he was one of the largest gryphons she'd seen. While she'd never bet against Lissir and Sivik in a fight, this spy was more than large enough to hold his own and give them both hell, if it came to it. If the average gryphon was close in size to the larger brown bears that roamed the thick forests, than this male was closer to the polar bears that hunted the icy tundra.

Rog licked his muzzle, stepping forward. “Ready when you are, shit-pigeon."

The gryphon merely sunk his claws into the floor, and scratched deep lines in the wood as he retracted his legs. “What was it you were asking again, Girl?"

Nira grit her teeth, trying to keep her calm. “Do you work for the Golden Union?"

Finally, the white-feathered beast cocked his head, his beak half-open and ears splayed in gryphon smirk. “I don't remember."

Nira held her gun up. “How'd you like me to pistol-whip that smirk off your beak?"

The gryphon narrowed his icy blue eyes. “How'd you like me to bite that hand off?"

All around her, her crew stepped closer, rifles pointed at the white gryphon. Rog hefted his axe, while Kasis and Vekk clambered up cargo netting, seeking a higher vantage. Both had produced smaller pistols usually kept hidden in their clothing.

With one free hand, Amelia unbuckled her safety straps. Without taking her eyes or her aim off the gryphon, she swung a leg over Sivik's back and hopped to the floor. “Bet he'd drop the attitude if I put one through his paw."

The white gryphon only snapped his beak at her. “You'd better put one through my eye next, female."

Amelia shrugged. “That can be arranged."

“You don't seem to understand the situation you're in, gryphon." Nira took a step closer, waving her pistol. She was careful to remain outside his range, though she wasn't totally sure she'd be clear if he suddenly lunged. She'd just have to rely on Amelia's sure-handed aim to put a round in the beast's brain before he could shred her too badly. “There's over a dozen guns pointed at you, and-"

“And you don't seem to understand that your threats sound just like everyone else's." The gryphon lifted a black-tinged forepaw, waving it a circle. “Threats which are empty, until you've proven you'll make good on them. And making good on most of yours would either kill me, or leave me in agony the likes of which would render me incapable of answering the questions which are so clearly burning a hole in your brain." He set his paw back down.

“Used to being threatened, are you Snowballs?" Lissir gave a mocking coo. “Poor snow gryphons, so mistreated by the Union."

Snowballs gave a low, menacing growl, shifting his weight. “Either shoot me, or bring me your leader so I can hold a civilized conversation. Until then?" The gryphon clacked his beak. “Get fucked." He glanced back and forth between Sivik and Lissir. “You two especially."

Both female gryphons hissed, but before they could reply, Nira held up her free hand to ask for their silence. They'd have plenty of time to teach him some manners later. “Bring you our leader?" For the first time, Nira felt as if she held an advantage. “Who is it you wish to speak with, Gryphon?"

The gryphon slowly swung his head around to fix his gaze on here. “Well, Girl, it is my understanding that-"

And that Rog kicked that advantage out of the airship and sent it tumbling down to earth. “You know who you're talking too, Bird?" He stormed forward, waving his axe at the princess. “This is Imperial Princess Nira, of the Empire of the Black Star!"

The gryphon lifted his head, his ears perked. “Is it?"

It occurred to her in that moment, that this gryphon might be here to kill her. Nira swiftly drew her other pistol, flicking both safeties off. The pieces wouldn't fit, though. If that was true, why wouldn't he have gotten himself caught earlier? But now that Rog had let the truth slip his tongue, she needed to be all the more cautious, just in case.

“Damn right it is!" Rog gestured with his axe again. “You address Princess Nira, the hard-fighting, hard-drinking, hard-fucking captain of the Cataclysm! So start addressing her properly, before I stomp your disrespectful beak in!"

Nira shifted her gaze to Rog for just a moment, unable to hold back an amused smile despite the tension in the moment. “Did you just describe me as hard-fucking?"

The gnoll grinned at her while the other guards kept the gryphon covered. “Well, aren't you?"

Nira chuckled, nodding once. “Carry on, Guard Captain."

Rog thumped his axe handle down against the floor, his voice rising into a forceful snarl. “You wanted to speak to our leader? Start speakin'."

“So you're Princess Nira?" The gryphon ignored Rog, focusing his attention on Nira. “You should have said so in the first place."

As much as Nira wanted to point out the stupidity of that statement, she knew there was little reason to do so. “I am. Why, you here to kill me?" She lifted both pistols, aiming them squarely at the gryphon's head. “Now's your chance, if you think you're quick enough."

“I don't think anyone's quick enough to avoid bullets." The gryphon slowly gazed around at all the firearms pointed his way. “Let alone that many of them. No, if I was here to kill you…" He slowly pushed himself up onto his haunches, every weapon in the room following him. “I'd do it when I had a far better chance of success."

Nira clenched her jaw. “That wasn't a no."

The gryphon only smiled, shrugging his wings. “No, it wasn't. Maybe I am here to kill you."

Amelia shifted her position, taking a step to the side, ensuring she had a clear shot at the gryphon's head without risking any crossfire. “Just gimme the order, boss, I'll put him down here and now. You'll have a few new feather pillows by sundown."

“Does the girl with the rifle ever shut up?" Snowballs stretched out his black-feathered wing, using it to shield his head from Amelia's view.

“You know feathers don't stop bullets, don't you?" Amelia shifted her aim, lower, just past the gryphon's shoulder. “And I can just shoot you in the heart, instead of the head, anyway."

Snowballs snapped his beak. “You ever shoot a creature my size in the heart, before? If your round makes it that far-“

“Oh, it'll get there, Bird." Amelia took a step closer. “Count on it."

“Then count on me living just long enough afterwards to tear your princess limb from limb!" The gryphon hissed, then held up his forepaws towards Nira, pads up in supplication. “Which, I assure you and your trigger-happy crew, I have no desire to do. In fact, if you'd all lower your guns, I think we'd all breathe easier." Slowly, the gryphon folded his wing back against his body, exposing his head for Amelia and the other guards again. “I assure you that despite my bravado, I've no desire to be shot in the head, the heart, the paws…" He glanced sideways, glaring at Amelia. “And certainly not the testicles."

Amelia only smirked at him, returning her aim to his head. “I ain't lowerin' shit till you're in shackles."

Nira took a deep breath, considering the situation. If the gryphon really wanted to attack her, she was pretty sure Amelia could drop him. And if Amelia missed…Nira wasn't convinced she'd have time to put the bird down herself at such close proximity. At least, not before he'd already opened her up. They'd probably end up killing each other. Grinding her teeth, she made a decision to try and deescalate things, just a little.

“Alright, Gryphon. I'll give you a chance." She sunk a pistol back into its holster, then waggled a single finger at him. “One chance. I'll put my guns away…" She settled the other pistol into place, then buckled both down. “And my guards will lower theirs." She gestured at the guards, and the gnolls and va'chaak slowly eased their weapons down. She waved Rog back, and her guard captain hesitantly stepped away. “Amelia's stays, though. And if you try anything-"

“You're tie me up and spank me like a naughty boy?" The gryphon flared up the longer crown feathers around the back of his head. “Yes, I understand the implications."

“Ooh, I dunno." Lissir turned towards her sister, offering a playful warble. “Spanking a helpless male snow gryphon does sound fun, don't you think, Sisters?"

“It sounds a delight!" Sivik chirruped laughter, ruffling up her feathers. “Princess, when you're done with him, do you think we can keep him?"

Nira laughed, glancing towards her feathery friends. “I'll think about it." She quickly turned her attention back towards the male gryphon. “Now, Union bird. You have a name?"

“Of course I have a name." The gryphon clicked his beak twice. “I am called Alakor." He bowed head large head. “And to answer your earlier question, yes. I work for the Golden Union. Though, not always entirely by choice."

Nira ground her teeth. She'd never actually met a gryphon that worked for the Union before. Most of their people seemed to view anything other humans to be lesser beings at best, monsters and vermin at worst. Then again, she'd never heard the term snow gryphon before, either. Sivik and Lissir made it sound as if such gryphons often worked for the Union. She'd have to ask them about it in private later.

For now, Nira drummed her fingers against her pistol handles. “Go on. What do you mean, not always by choice?"

“I mean, everyone works for them. There is no choice." The gryphon ruffled his feathers, snorting. “You do as you're told, or you're punished."

Rog growled, low in his throat. “Fucking Union. I knew they'd pull that shit. Burn the land, enslave the survivors, it's all they ever meant-"

“Oh, pull your head out of your ass, dog." Alakor glanced at the gnoll. “Your kind used to butcher human villages to take their food, their valuables, and you'd enslave the survivors." He flicked his wing towards Kasis. “Her kind used to raid travelers in great swarms." He lifted a forepaw, flicking a single finger towards Nira. “And her people pushed his people into the slums." He gestured at Vekk. “And then they conquered the rest of you, made you part of their army, and used you to enslave half the damn continent."

Nira squeezed her pistol, her blood hot, her heart thumping hard enough to leave her pulse echoing in her grit teeth. “That was centuries ago, gryphon. That was-"

“The exact same thing the Union has now done." The sharpness in Alakor's voice was enough to cut through her own impulsive retort. He slapped his forepaw against the ground. “Most of their people don't realize it, yet, but they've simply swapped out one oppressive society for another. Neither Empire nor Union was ever any better than the other, you're just…oppressive in different ways, I suppose."

“Except here?" Sivik hissed, flaring out her wings. “You won't be treated like an animal. A beast."

Rog thumped his axe against the ground. “Or a monster, or a criminal, just cause your ancestors were bad people."

“Tell that to your Princess' serfs." The gryphon tilted his head, gazing at the gnoll. “Their farmers. Where do you think all that food you got in the palace came from? Entire provinces of the empire were dedicated to farming, to rearing livestock. And not by choice, either. Those people had their whole lives dictated to them by the Imperial Court. Given land, told to farm it, and made to give all their crops to the court, to be distributed amongst the cities. Allowed to keep just enough to survive on, and that's it. That's their lives. You wonder why the Unions ranks swelled so quickly? Because they had entire nations of farmers, living in the dirt for generations, so they could feed the Empire's army of beasts."

Nira's whole face burned, her ears hottest of all. She knew well enough that things were not perfect in the Empire, but those systems were antiquated. Her own parents had spent a good portion of their lives trying to reform them, to improve the lives of those very farmers. “You know, my mother and father had dedicated themselves to making things better, to bringing them-"

Once again, Alakor cut her off. “Your parents were too late. The Union gave them hope for a better life, immediately, a chance to fight for a future for the children." He snarled under his breath. “It was all a lie, but false hope is hope just the same. They'll just be oppressed in a different way. Forced to build cathedrals, forced to worship the Union's gods, forced go out and fight. Their children won't be farming dirt. Instead, they'll be spreading the Union's golden light with steel, and lead and blood. They think things are better now, but soon enough they'll-"

“Tell her where you come from." Lissir glared at him, prowling around him like a cat daring to toy with prey far beyond its measure. “Tell her where snow gryphons come from."

Her sister nodded, hissing. “Yes, you're so eager to tear Nira's people down, to drag out all their darkest deeds as if the Princess herself gave those orders. Why don't you tell her one of the Union's dirty little secrets?"

Alakor leveled a smoldering glare at the two female gryphons, taking a slow, deep breath. “I was only making a point. I assure you, I have no love for the Golden Union. As you said…" He glanced down at his forepaws, his ears drooping. “We're treated like animals. Beasts of burden, of war."

Nira folded her arms. “I'm not surprised. I didn't think the Golden Union allowed any non-humans into their ranks, outside forcible conscription."

“Tell her where you come from." Lissir came to a stop alongside her sister, glowering at Alakor. “Or I will!"

“Do it, then." Alakor did not look up from his own paws. His wings hung limp at his sides, his tail lifeless behind him.

“They're bred." Lissir softened her tone, just a little. She did not sound so derisive now, rather she sounded as if she pitied him. “Like beasts would be, on a farm. For their size, for their color. They saw how useful winged creatures can be, they know how effective the Empire's armies were. But we're monsters, you see." Lissir put a paw to her chest. “At least to the nations who founded the Union. So they captured a whole clan of arctic gryphons, generations ago, and bred them for servitude, and for symbolism. They only wanted white ones that these particular gryphons were gifted to them by the gods, kissed by their glorious light. The white feathers indicated purity."

When Lissir stopped speaking, Sivik continued for her. “It's pitiable, really. Poor Alakor here probably doesn't even know his parents. To my knowledge, they're taken away in the egg, or as fledglings, then raised by the Union, taught to speak and fight and worship their gods, and be good little birdies. Or they're beaten. There's probably only a few hundred of them now, serving as spies and reconnaissance, and probably, special guards, mounts for important nobles, that sort of thing. Treated like good hounds, at best. Though…something tells me Alakor here was anything but good for his masters."

“Actually, that's where you're wrong." Alakor lifted his head again, some of his previous defiance returning. “I've been good for a very long time. Very good, in fact. Worked a lot of dangerous missions, did as I was told, biding my time, waiting for an opportunity. A chance to tell them all to go fuck themselves."

“And…" Nira waved a hand. “Let me guess. That's why you're here? You slipped your leash to find me, and spill the Union's secrets, hoping for revenge against a cruel master?" She shook her head. “You're out of luck, bird. My crew and I decided years ago, as a group, that we wanted nothing to do with that whole mess. Much as it pains me, my country is gone, my family is gone, and nothing I can do will bring them back."

Alakor tilted his head and perked his ears, a smile parting his beak. “That's exactly what I was hoping you'd say. For firstly, I did not slip my leash. The Union sent me to find you."

Something cold twisted in Nira's belly, and she forced herself to swallow. “Why?"

“They believe you're dangerous. They're considering having you captured. Or killed." He lifted a forepaw, glancing at it, casual as could be. “So they sent one of their most loyal spies to find your ship, chart your course a while, and report back to them. Of course, if that loyal, gods-fearing spy were to be captured, then his orders were to kill you if possible, even if it meant losing his own life."

Nira squeezed her pistol handles, fighting back the urge to draw them.

“So you are here to kill the Princess!" With a furious snarl, Rog hefted his axe again.

Alakor made an irritable chirruping noise, ruffling up his white feathers. “Of course not, you silly mutt! Have you been listening to anything I've said? You think I have any intentions of undertaking their damn suicide mission? I'm not throwing my life away for those assholes! No, no."

“Then why are you here?" Nira kept a grip on her guns, but left them holstered.

The white gryphon very slowly pushed himself back up onto his feet. He mantled his vast, black-tipped wings, lifting his head. Posing that way made it all the more obvious just how much bigger he was than the other gryphons aboard her ship. “I am here, Princess Nira, because I'm tired of being treated as an animal. As disposable!" Alakor said, bowing his head until his beak touched the floor. “Because I seek to defect from the Golden Union. I wish to join your crew."

*****

Chapter Five

*****

Nira's jaw dropped. For a few heartbeats, she simply stared at the great white gryphon, trying to process it. She'd never had anyone try to defect, before. Most of her crew had been with her from the beginning, loyal members of the former Imperial Empire. Soldiers, spies, mechanics, and so on. Others they'd gathered over the years. A few were rescued from the Union or other hostile forces, a few others were rather notorious outlaws she'd manage to befriend, and invite to join her. But this was different. This was very different.

The princess took a breath. Only then did he realize just how silent it had gotten in the docking bay. Amelia kept her gun pointed at the gryphon, but most of the other guards were glancing around at one another, uncertain. Rog, Kasis, and Vekk all stared at her. The gryphon sisters murmured to each other in their own tongue. Everyone, it seemed, was waiting to see how Nira reacted.

“Let me make one thing clear, Gryphon." Nira strode towards him, jabbing a finger in the air. She was close enough now to be in range of his claws, should he wish her harm. But if nothing else, she was fairly sure if the gryphon meant to attack her, he would have done so already. “I don't trust you for a second."

“And yet, here you are, close enough for me to take that hand off, if I but wished to." The gryphon lifted his head, his black-edged tail swishing behind him.

“I don't have to trust you to assume you want to live." Nira waved at all her guards. “Any harm comes to me, and blah, blah, blah, painful death."

“A fair point." Alakor folded his wings back against his body again. “I don't expect you to trust me, anyway. I sure as hell don't trust you and your guard dog." He tossed his head towards Amelia. “Or your sniper. Or your admittedly pretty little sparrow-sisters."

“Sparrow?" Sivik hissed, hunkering down into a tensed up crouch. “Call us sparrows again, you inbred city-bird. I dare you."

Alakor ignored her threat. “I also said you were pretty. The point is, I don't trust any of you, and I'm not foolish enough to expect you to trust me. Nonetheless, allow me to make it formal." The white gryphon lifted his large head, wings outstretched, then folded to sharp angles. “I, Alakor, Second Flight, Aerial Reconnaissance and Special Mission Wing, hereby surrender myself to the Empire of the Black Star, thereupon requesting asylum until such time as my defection can be processed, and completed."

Sivik nudged her sister with her beak, chirping. “Those city birds do know how to speak pretty, don't they?"

Alakor glanced back at her. “Get you all tingly under the tail, does it?"

Sivik only stared at him. “I'm sorry, I'm not interested in virgins."

Alakor brought his wings back in again. “You are wildly mistaken about that." Then he returned his attention to Nira. “Is there anything else I need to say, or do, to make it final?"

Nira pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Fuck if I know. Alright, Amelia? Lower your rifle."

“You sure, Boss?" Amelia grimaced. “I don't trust this cocky shit-pigeon anymore than you do. How do we know he's not actually here to learn as much about us and our ship as he can? Then he slips away, and spills all our secrets to his masters."

“We don't know." Nira approached Amelia, and gently set her hand across the barrel of her rifle. “But I think we've made it abundantly clear that any attack on the crew is going to result an overabundance of lead in his general vicinity." She pushed the barrel down, softening her voice. “It's alright, Amelia. It's alright."

Amelia sighed, dropping her gun from her shoulder to rest it across her arm, instead, the barrel pointed away from everyone. “Well, shit. I never get to shoot anyone anymore."

“Let's try and consider that a win, shall we?" Nira smiled, giving Amelia's arm a thankful squeeze. Then she turned back towards the male gryphon, approaching him again. “Alright, Bird. I'm willing to grant you asylum on my ship, but only under very strict conditions. I'm going to put this bluntly. As far as I'm concerned, you're basically a prisoner until I've reason to trust you as anything more. I'll give you quarters, and allow you to go a few common areas, but that's it, for now. And you'll be under guard at all times, and all your actions will be reported to me."

“All my actions?" The gryphon clicked his beak. “It won't be a very exciting report, as I plan to do little more than rest while I've the chance." The gryphon waved a paw, adopting a slightly higher tone. “The gryphon woke in the night, went for a piss. Went back to sleep. Woke again, possessed of an especially impressive morning erection. Dealt with it. Went back to sleep."

Nira folded her arms, smirking. “What, they didn't let you do that back home?"

Lissir whispered to her sister. “I doubt it's that impressive, anyway."

Alakor tossed his head. “Seriously, though, your terms are acceptable. I have no intentions of making trouble for you, or your crew. In fact, in the interest of advancing mutual trust, I suggest you plot a course northwest, as soon as possible, and put the whip to your engines." He scrunched his face, ears flat. “Or, whatever it is pirates say to an airship. Just make it go fast."

“Northwest?" Kasis, perched atop a nearby stack of crates along with Vekk, finally spoke up. She had her tail draped across Vekk's lap, who was gently stroking it to keep her calm. “From here? Why the hell would we go that way? We'll hit the Broken Teeth!"

“Can you not fly high enough to top them?" Alakor turned towards her, head tilted. “Or the charts needed to guide you through the shattered sections? I can guide you, if you prefer."

“You'd probably fly us right into them!" Kasis growled at him, balling up her fists.

“Easy, Sunset." Vekk kneaded her bronze-scaled tail.

Nira worked her fingers together, idly cracking her knuckles. “Why do we need to go northwest?"

“Because." The white gryphon turned his head, preening one of his wings. “I'm two weeks late to report to my handlers. They're going to send someone looking for me. Whether that's other gryphons, or ships, I know not."

Rog leaned his axe up against the same tower of boxes Kasis sat atop, then folded his arms. “Then we'll blow 'em out of the sky."

“You could," Alakor said, spitting a loose feather towards the female gryphons. From the way they both hissed at him, Nira guessed it must have been a rather serious insult among their people. “But then the rest of them would know right where you are. And, while you've been playing hide and seek in all the low cloud cover, the Union is negotiating a treaty with the lands beneath you, giving them access." He settled his wing back. “That's why I've been stationed out here."

“Shit." Nira rubbed her forehead, glancing up at Kasis. “Thoughts?"

“Assuming he's telling the truth? Transiting the Broken Teeth would be the quickest route to safe skies." The kobold tapped little claw tips against the crate she sat on. “But, technically, we're not exactly welcome there. I don't think Prav's people would be dumb enough to engage us, but you never know. They do gotta lotta guns there. Might have to pay 'em a visit first."

The urd'thin sitting next to her spoke up. “You wanna bribe that asshole again?"

Kasis shrugged, leaning her head against the urd'thin sitting next to her. “On the plus side, might be able to learn something while we're there about the Union's movements or intentions. Or, instead, we could go around, but it would take longer, and we'd still have to cross embargoed lands." She tugged at one of the carabiners on her shirt. “We're still waiting on the boys to return from their supply run, too. They were headed out that way, and should be back tonight, though, tomorrow morning at the latest. If we could get them word, they could meet us nearer the Teeth."

Alakor glanced between the two of them. “You can wait a little, I think, but I wouldn't dally too long, if you wish to avoid being discovered."

“Kasis, when we're done here, plot up a few courses for us. Let's be ready to move on, as soon as the boys are back." Nira turned back to the gryphon. “Any other little warnings for us? Or any way to prove that there's not actually a trap waiting for us at the Teeth?"

“Afraid not. Trust me, or don't." Alakor stretched his other wing forward, preening it next. “As for other warnings, not at the moment. I've other things to share with you, but you'll forgive me if I wish to wait until I can trust you, too. Won't do me any good if you bleed me dry for all I know, and then kick me off your ship. The Union would have me executed, if they caught me and learned of my attempted defection."

Amelia snorted, shifting her rifle to her other shoulder. “Oh, well, we sure wouldn't want that."

Alakor gave her a sidelong glance, still preening. “Dare I ask who these 'boys' are you mentioned?" He settled his wing back down. “I'm guessing since you're waiting on them to return to this ship, they've either a smaller craft of their own, or wings? Perhaps a pair of male gryphons to go with your sharp-tongued females?"

“Something like that." Nira didn't feel the need to elaborate. Assuming Alakor didn't do anything to get himself killed, or tossed off the ship, he'd find out soon enough.

Lissir gave a warbling coo. “Oooh, Malaresh is going to love him."

“Oh, won't he?" Sivik shook herself, fluffing her ashen feathers. “I can't wait to see that. Though…" She cast the white gryphon a playful look, her ears half perked. “I still think the princess should let us string him up in the dungeon."

Lissir chirped laughter. “Torture dungeon, or sex dungeon?"

“Depends on how well he behaves himself!" Sivik's answer had both female gryphons cackling.

Alakor only heaved a throaty sigh, lashing his black-edged tail. “If you're trying to intimidate me, it isn't going to work. You're on an airship, so I'm quite sure you've neither such place."

“Are you so sure?" Lissir took a step towards him, flashing an open-beak grin. “Where else would take prisoners to be interrogated? Or rewarded?"

“I wouldn't press your luck, Snowballs." Nira rested her hands on her pistols, her mind whirling, trying to spin off in a thousand directions all at once. She needed to talk to her people about several different subjects, none of which she'd broach with the snow gryphon around. For now, she fixed her attention on him. “Since you've accepted my terms, I hereby grant you asylum from the Golden Union, revocable at any time on my discretion. Your request for defection will be taken under consideration, and all acts you comment in our custody will be factored into that decision, as will all information you offer that aids us in any way. Anything else you'd like to say or add before I have you shown to your temporary quarters?"

Alakor shook his head. “Nothing in the immediate present. Though I should request quarters with a nice, soft bed. I should also request something to eat and drink, whenever possible. I've not eaten since before dawn."

Nira pinched the bridge of her nose. “I'll see what I can do."

“Making demands already?" Sivik nudged her sister. “He really will get along well with Malaresh."

Amelia shrugged. “I don't know what you're talking about, Malaresh is always a perfect gentleman around me."

Lissir clicked her beak. “Cause you've always got that damn rifle strapped over your shoulder."

“If you had a custom Ebony Ranger, you'd keep it close, too." Amelia cradled it against her body, grinning.

“Gods, female, do you fuck the gun, too?" Alakor turned towards her, flaring his wings.

Nira jabbed the gryphon's feathery shoulder. “Watch your mouth, Gryphon. I won't tolerate any disrespect towards my crew from a prisoner, defection, or not defection. Keep that up, and you're going to regret."

Amelia stared Alakar down, then made a show of stroking the rifle's barrel in an especially provocative manner. “Gotta keep it happy, somehow."

“Careful now," Sivik said, bumping her gray feathered tail against Amelia. “You'll excite the virgin."

Nira chuckled, turning away from them for a moment. She was well aware that her crew could take care of themselves, and hold their own against anyone. But that was not the point. They were her crew, her responsibility, and she'd stick up for them against anyone, anywhere, at any time. Sure, they insulted and teased each other plenty, but only in the way of family. They'd all earned that right. They shared bonds of blood, survival, friendship, respect, and even love.

Her crew, her ship of beasts, they were a family.

And Alakor was not part of that family.

“Rog, pick a few guards to reassign to Alakor, day shift and night shift both." When the gnoll nodded his understand, she looked up at Kasis. “Slight chance of plans, I think. Plot us possible courses to the Teeth, but also to Prav's. And at least one course around the Teeth. Embargo or not, Verille's forces wouldn't be stupid enough to actually engage us. Or so I hope."

“Sure thing, boss." Kasis kicked her little booted feet, looking like a tiny lizard-child atop the box.

“Vekk, get the damn door in bay four fixed." Nira rubbed her forehead, trying to consider all the other preparations they might need to make. “Order an inspection and test firing of all engines, the turbines and props, run a few drills, check all the pressure levels, the boilers, pistons, fuel lines, see if the gas bags…" She trailed off when the urd'thin just stared at her with flattened ears. Vekk never did like being told how to do his job, even by his captain. She held up her hands. “I know, I know. But we haven't had to run everything full-tilt in a while, so I just want make sure everything's ready."

“Boy, Princess, I wouldn't have thought of that!" He nudged Kasis, whispering overloud. “I probably woulda got us all killed!"

“Point taken, Vekk, and thank you for your tireless hard work." Nira reached up and patted his boot with a smile.

Rog put a hand upon Nira's shoulder. “Hey, Princess, where do you want to put the bird for now?"

Nira thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “It's going to have to bay seven, for now."

“I dunno if Malaresh is gonna like that."

“He's going to have to deal with it, like all the rest of us." She waved towards Vekk. “Once bay four is safe again, we can put Alakor in there. But till then, seven is the only place big enough to hold him. Plus it's got access to a gryphon suitable tub and latrine."

Alakor cocked his head, and chirped. “That already sounds better than what I had before." He glanced over his wings at the other two gryphons. “Though it's a shame I don't get to spend my nights with those two lovely females."

Nira pursed her lips. “They'd eat you alive."

“Literally!" Sivik snapped her beak.

“Though, I wouldn't mind being his guard," Lissir said, looking Alakor over. “Because then I could put him in shackles, and slap a chain pouch over that smart beak so he'll finally shut up."

Alakor turned around towards the females, hissing. “You know, I'm starting to think tying someone up is what gets your tail lifted. If I let you tie up my paws, you gonna let me climb on your back and fuck you a while, Pretty Sparrow?"

“A while?" Lissir only laughed, rustling her wings. “I doubt you'd even know what to do without some Golden Union taskmaster yelling instructions at you." She lifted her voice an octave, to imitate a human. “Not like that, bird! Don't just lay on her! Thrust! Thrust already!"

“And that's all it would take," Sivik said as much to Alakor as her sister. “Two pumps and he's crooning and spent."

“Oh, I suppose you would be the expert, hmm?" Alakor pivoted towards them, his wings half-flared, a derisive sneer in his voice. “The way you two question my prowess makes it sound as if you're hoping for a demonstration! If I'm so inexperienced, then what does that make you, the ship's whores?"

Nira jerked her head up, spinning towards the gryphon. “Alakor! You do not talk to my crew that way!"

Alakor ignored her, glancing back and forth between Lissir and Sivik. “Do you two lift your tails for your rider, too?" He sucked in a mock gasp, turning wide eyes towards Amelia. “Is that what you use that rifle for? Well, I've got something you could—AAWWWRRKK!"

It was at that point that Nira stormed up behind Alakor, snatched his tail for leverage, and kicked the gryphon in the testicles as hard as she could. The sound that came out of his beak as a result was highest-pitched, loudest squawk Nira had ever heard in her life. The gryphon's blue eyes popped out, and a forepaw shot back to clutch his battered pride. Alakor's hind legs came together, his eyes slowly went cross, and with a long, low groan, the big gryphon crumpled to the floor.

“That's for my crew!" Nira folded her arms, glaring down at him. “I warned you, bird! No one belittles my crew like that!"

All around her, the gathered crew burst into laughter, along with a few quasi-sympathetic groans from the males. Kasis pointed down at him, cackling. “Right in the bird-balls!"

Amelia flashed her a big grin. “Oooh, bullseye! I coulda done that, yanno, didn't need you stepping in."

Nira shrugged. “I know, but I already warned him once. I ain't letting him insult my crew, let alone my friends."

Alakor groaned again his eyes squeezed shut as he ground his beak. He rocked around on the ground a few times, beating his wings against the air. “Oooooh, ooooh, gods! What…is it with this ship, and going for the balls?"

“If you're asking for it, you get it." Sivik strode forward, climbing up atop the fallen male, then seating herself upon him. She flared her wings in victorious display. “I claim this snow gryphon on behalf of the good ship Cataclysm!"

Alakor groaned and wriggled, beating his wings again. He made a half-hearted effort to dislodge the female, but then gave up. “Don't know what…you think you're claiming! You didn't even do it!"

Sivik offered him a sweet smile, her ears happily perked. She lifted a forepaw, curling it into a fist. “Would you like me to?"

Alakor gulped, awkwardly shaking his head against the floor. “…I'll be good."

Sivik set her paw back down against him. “That's what I thought."

Nira folded her arms, grinning at the female gryphons. “Maybe you two should be his guards. At least when you haven't got any other duties."

“Oooh!" Sivik warbled to her sister. “That does sound like fun!"

Alakor coughed, squirming beneath Sivik, his voice somehow both hoarse, and squeaky at the same time. “I think…if it's just the same to you…I'll stick with the gnoll guards."

“Oh, I'm afraid not." Nira nudged the pinkish pads of the male gryphon's hind paw with the toe of her boot. “You should have thought of that when I warned you to keep your beak shut." She glanced over her shoulder at Rog. The gnoll was wearing an odd expression, muzzle split with some combination of grimace and grin, one ear flat and the other perked. “Add the girls to the list of his guards, would you?"

“Sure thing, Princess."

“Right, then I think we're down there." Nira clasped her hands together, surveying the room. “Well done, everyone! I'd like you riflemen to remain here, make sure our guest doesn't cause any trouble. Ladies?" When the gryphons glanced her way, Nira continued. “When Snowballs can stand up again, escort him to his quarters. Take the other guards with you, just in case."

Amelia stepped forward, gesturing at Sivik. “I'll go, too. I gotta get her saddle off, anyway."

“Good." Nira backed up a few paces to give the gryphons some room. “When you've got him settled, Lissir? I want to talk." Nira had questions about Alakor's people that she didn't want to ask around him. “Rog, Vekk, Kasis? You've all got your assignments. When everyone's finished, come find me in my office."

*****

Chapter Six

*****

Alakor padded down the wide, wood-paneled corridor, deep in the bowels of the largest ship he'd ever conceived of. He had been on airships before, but never one this size. Some of the scents, sounds, and experiences were similar. The smells of smoke and oil, of strange gases and chemical mixtures, air that somehow mixed fresh and stale in constantly shifting measure. The way the whole thing shuddered around them, sometimes.

Some of the other snow gryphons hated riding on airships, and not just because they were usually confined to the grimy and cramped lower decks. Instead, it was some instinctual fear of a fall they simply could not pull out of it. Gryphons were creatures born to fly, and yet, if catastrophe happened, they'd likely be trapped inside, where their wings would be unable to save them. They'd plummet like everyone else aboard.

Alakor, though, had never had such fears. Not because he held any misguided beliefs in the wonder and safety of technology. He knew well enough that the Golden Union had lost a number of airships recently, in the race to build them ever larger, ever faster, ever more powerful. No, Alakor's lack of fear for the thing simply came from the fact that he'd risked his life in far too many other ways to worry about the idea of a damn airship falling out of the sky. As far as he was concerned, his odds of death were far greater earlier in the day, when people were pointing guns at his head, and other parts. That was the hardest part of his plan, he was certain. The rest was going to be damn relaxing by comparison.

Besides, Alakor found airships fascinating. He knew little about them from a scientific sense, but that only made them all the more wondrous. The white gryphon had no idea no how such contraptions managed to stay aloft, much less travel across the world. Gryphons were not exactly taught the sciences and mechanics responsible for an airship's flight. Then again, gryphons who served the Union were rarely taught much beyond what their masters needed them to know. Whatever the case, keeping one this size in the skies for years on end was truly a marvel.

He paused, staring down an intersecting hallway lit with a strange lamps, affixed to the ceiling in triangular brass fixtures. Alakar was not sure what fueled them. Some manner of oil or gas, probably. Or something even more advanced, he thought. The technologies and inventions of the fallen Empire were in some ways familiar to those of the older Union kingdoms, but many others were advanced enough to seem almost completely foreign. Rumors abounded about the Empire discovering new ways to generate energy with their great steam engines, and other more mysterious fuels and sources. There were even rumors that just before the war took its toll, the Empire had been close to truly harnessing electricity. For all he knew, this ship might be the closest to fruition those efforts came.

The gryphon clacked his beak in thought. The Golden Union's successful conquest certainly wasn't due to superior technology, or industrial prowess. Rather, it was fueled more by the ease with which the oppressed bought into all the hope they offered, flooding their armies with recruits early in the war. These days, now that the old Empire now belonged to the rulers of the Union, so too did its technology, and it's knowledge.

At least…most of it. Alakor clicked his beak in thought, gazing down the hall. Signs pointed the way to storage areas and cargo bays, though he wondered what else was on board the vessel. To the best of his knowledge, few rank and file Union members had any inkling of just how impressive the Cataclysm truly was, and how mysteries. How important it was.

Hell, Alakor only knew because he'd gotten exceptionally good at knowing when to listen in to which conversations, and just where to position himself at what times to do so. Most of his superiors saw him as little more than a well-trained animal, not to speak unless spoken to. How Alakor hated the denigration of it, the humiliation. Yet, it had served his purpose. He had learned about this ship, it's crew…and over time, he realized that Union wanted it. The Princess was dangerous to them, to be sure, but to some of his superiors? The Princess was but a secondary concern. The ship, with its myriad secrets and mysterious technologies, that was the true prize.

A shame then, for the Union, that they'd only ever treated him like a hound, barely even worthy of scraps from their table. Once, in his younger days, he might have blindly done as he was told like so many others did. He might have well have killed the princess while he had the chance, or let himself be caught, only to escape later once he'd cast light upon their darkest shadows and pried their most valuable secrets out of their grasp to deliver back to his masters.

“Move it, Bird." The human named Amelia prodded his haunch with her rifle. “You haven't gotten clearance to go that way. Keep following Sivik."

“Only looking, Madame Shoots-A-Lot." Akalor tossed his head. “And please don't prod me with a loaded weapon."

“Oh, don't shit your tailfeathers." Amelia rested the rifle across her shoulder. “Safety's on."

Perhaps if things went poorly here, he still would make off with a few of their secrets. Not for the Union, though. For himself, to sell to the highest bidder. Still, though…There was a part of Alakar that already ached to be a part of this ship. Just seeing the way gryphons were treated here, to say nothing of the other species? He'd never seen them all just…treated like friends, before. Like people. It was everything he'd hoped to see when he made his decision to disobey his orders, if he was caught. Witnessing it in person, to see humans standing up for gryphons? It was as if he suddenly that hole he felt deep inside himself, in the dark of night, sleeping on cold stone and worn blankets? All at once, he knew what was missing. Simple, basic kindness, as if he'd been left ignorant even of its existence.

“You're lucky, you know." Alakor spoke up, glancing at the two female gryphons. The one named Lissir walked in front of him, while her sister took up the rear, just beyond his tail. Amelia was at once side, with the various gun-toting gnolls and va'chaak taking up positions all around him. “To live like this."

Lissir glanced back at him, flattening her dark gray wings. “We're lucky to live like exiles?"

Sivik spoke up behind him, picking up from her sister. “Yes, what exactly makes us lucky? To never see our homeland again? To be embargoed by this country, hunted down by that one, to live like outlaws and sky pirates?"

Alakar warbled, offering each female an open-beak, perked-ear smile in turn. “From the way you all act, I should think you enjoy living like pirates."

“I sure as hell do." Amelia laughed, patting the butt of her rifle.

“Oh, so do I!" Sivik clicked her beak, but soon flattened back her ears, scowling. “But it wasn't our choice. We were forced into this life. It was this, or chains." She shrugged her wings, glancing away. “Or death, more likely. So yes, what luck!" She slapped her forepaw against the ground.

Alakor only stared at her, unblinking. “I meant, you're lucky to have a place like this. A home, where everyone calls you friend." He let out a low, grumbling growl, glancing down at his ebony-smudged paws. “Instead of pet. Or worse."

Lissir swished her tail, brushing the gray feathers that tipped it across his beak. “Oh, that we are. But once, not that long ago? We had an entire nation that treated us that way. Now we've only an airship."

“Point taken." Alakor nipped at her tail. “Though, outside your capital and your largest cities, I hear things were different." When Sivik did the same to his own tail, he flicked it against her head, then followed Lissir as she started forward. “To much of the rest of the world, you were…" He trailed off, cringing as the movement of his hind legs sent a little twinge of leaden pain rolling through him. “Nevermind. Not worth arguing about."

“Agreed." Lissir glanced back at him again, her ears splayed in amusement. “You alright back there?"

Alakor glared at her. “Never better." In truth, the gryphon's testicles still ached, but he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of knowing that. “Besides, someday, once I'm used to free? Getting kicked in the balls by a human princess of an evil empire will make a great story for a tavern."

“And if you call the Black Star an evil empire around Nira, she'll kick them again." Sivik walked up alongside him, nipping at his haunch. “As will my sister and I, should you insult us again. Now walk faster!"

“Thank you for the warning, then." Alakor picked up his pace, trying to ignore the lingering aching sensation. “I apologize for my early misbehavior."

Lissir turned a corner ahead of him, following signs that pointed towards Bay Seven. “Somehow, I suspect your apology has more to do with the fact we've been named your guards, and less to do with actual contrition."

“A little from column A, a little from column B." Alakor offered them both a playful warble. “Though, you two do make an imposing pair. And I must admit, the two of you provide a far more striking, beautiful view than any window will offer."

“Oh, I see how it is. The moment we're put in charge, you drop the insults and start trying to flatter us?" Sivik bumped her haunches up against him, though whether it was playful gesture or vague threat, Alakor could not tell. “What do you think sister, do you think he's being truthful now?"

“About you?" Lissir perked her ears, gazing back at her sister. She shook her head, sighing. “No, I'm afraid he must be lying, because you're hideous. I, however, am so gorgeous I'm sure to fill his dreams and fantasies from now on." Lissir shook her haunches, as if just to make her point.

“Oh, Gods," Sivik chirruped laughter, trotting forward to swat her sister's hind leg. “You filthy liar! We both know I'm the pretty one. Still, if he's going to 'fantasizing' about either of us…" She shot Alakor a sidelong glare. “Better you, than me."

“As far as I'm concerned, you're both worth fantasizing over." Alakor rumbled a low, throaty purr.

“Ugh." Amelia dragged her free hand down her face. “He's even worse than Jirril. You gryphons really gotta learn subtlety."

Lissir chittered her amusement. “I keep telling you, subtlety's for humans. Besides, where would the fun in that be?"

Alakor turned his head to gaze at Amelia. “I'd offer to fantasize about you, too, but I suspect my balls would not appreciate your retaliation."

A smile cracked Amelia's otherwise stoic veneer. “You'd suspect right."

Alakor wasn't quite sure what to make of her yet. It was clear the woman was fiercely protective of her friends, and her captain. That was certainly respectable. But beyond that, he couldn't quite tell which of her descriptive threats were genuine, and which were simply bravado or some odd sense of humor. For now, he thought it best not to press his luck.

“So….if I may ask." He tilted his head towards Amelia, waiting for her to allow him a question, or turn him away. When she nodded, he went on. “Are yourself and the Princess the only humans on the ship?"

Amelia grunted. “That sounds suspiciously like the sort of question a spy looking to learn about our crew would ask."

Alakor flexed his wings. “I shall take that as a yes. I had heard the ship was mostly crewed by other species, but I hadn't realized quite how true that was."

“Watch it, Spy." Amelia jabbed him in the ribs, but at least she used her finger this time. “Nira might trust you enough to offer you our spare gryphon quarters, but if it was up to me, you'd be confined to a cell in the brig."

The white gryphon only smiled at her. “Considering that an hour ago, you were more inclined to put a bullet in my brain, I'll call that a step in the right direction."

Lissir soon came to a stop. “Here we are, Bay Seven." She turned to the door, stretching a wing to brush her flight feathers across his beak, and head. Alakor scrunched his face, backing away. When he'd given her a little room, she retracted her wing, and grasped the large, brass handle with a forepaw. “Everything here is basically, retrofitted for gryphons. Granted, there's not much in here right now, it's just a spare room, but there's bedding, a tub, and a latrine."

Sivik padded up alongside her sister. “The doors are large enough for gryphons, and the handles designed for our paws. With any luck, they'll even fit you, and your ego."

Alakor clicked his beak, gazing not at the doors, but at both female gryphon's haunches, and swishing tails. “Oh, I think I'd fit just fine."

Amelia cleared her throat. “You know he was staring at your asses when he said that, right?"

“I had an inkling, yes." Sivik strode inside, followed shortly by her sister. “But it's to be expected. Virgins can't help but fixate on mating."

“I'm not a damn virgin," Alakor said with an irritable squawk. The insult, old as it was getting, left the inside of his ears hot.

“Oh, so your old masters have already bred you, have they?" Lissir turned back towards him, her ears splayed in gryphon smirk.

Alakor froze, sucking in a breath. He quickly looked away, his belly twisting. “I'm…" He forced himself to reply, difficult as it was to suddenly find words. “Not going to talk about that."

“Oh…" Lissir swallowed, her smug expression turning to one of contrition, ears drooping a little. “Perhaps we've all insulted each enough, for the moment."

Alakor strode past her, no longer in the mood for banter. “Perhaps so."

While his guards looked on, Alakor wandered around the room, awash in unwanted memories. A female gryphon flashed through his mind, white, but with a tail darkening to gray. She was nervous, just like he was. They knew each other, but not in that way. Not till they were ordered to, anyway. They both knew they'd probably never see each other again, after that. He was almost too nervous for it to work, but she helped him along. Better for both of them that way, no one wanted to have to drink the 'medicine' for those who had trouble. When it happened, it was over quickly, but they were made to spend a week together. To make sure it took.

And then she was gone, whisked away, along with….

Alakor shook himself, wishing he could shake the damn memories out of his head. To think the Union would wonder why he wanted to escape them. Alakor forced himself to focus on his surroundings until he was able to lose himself in the moment again.

From the way Lissir described it as a spare room, he'd expected something akin to a storage closet, connected to a small bathing chamber. Instead, he found himself roaming a voluminous cargo hold, so spacious he could have taken to his wings. A few light fixtures on the otherwise barren walls provided gentle illumination. There were no portholes or windows, and he was not sure how close they were to the ship's outer hull. Alakor turned a slow circle, letting out a low coo of approval. While it was true the room was mostly empty, for Alakor, that was a benefit, not a drawback.

“This is huge!" He turned back towards the females. “Have you other prisoners you're putting in here with me?"

Lissir shook her head. “Just you." She tilted her head. “Bigger than the Union gave you, I take it?"

“The Union usually kept us in a small barracks, at best, often with a half dozen gryphons in each room. Hard to sleep without bumping someone else." He ground his beak a moment, turning away. “I think those who guard the palace now get better quarters, but…I'm not sure. And since I was a spy, I sometimes got a room to myself, on missions. But even that was…cramped, at best."

Amelia wandered around at a distance, though it was clear she was keeping an eye on him. “I'll admit, that sounds like shit. I know you gryphons aren't exactly bashful, but I'd think even you'd want a little privacy once in a while."

Alakor simply nodded, spotting a large, rectangular structure in the corner. Layers of sky-blue blankets and gray sheets were piled atop it, along with a small mountain of cushions and pillows. “Is that someone's bed?" He padded towards it, calling back to the three females. “I suppose they'll be coming to move it, yes? Do you suppose your Princess would let me steal a pillow or two? And maybe a blanket to spread on the floor?"

Lissir walked up alongside him, her voice soft, her head low. “Alakor, that's…" She glanced back at her sister, who shrugged her wings, then returned her gaze to the male. “That's your bed. Those are your blankets and things, now. Those were brought in here for you."

“R…really?" Alakor swallowed, coming to a stop at the side of the bed. “I've…" He reached out, then hesitated, his ebony-smudged paw hovering above one of the indigo cushions. “Never had a bed, before. Not…not a real bed, anyway. Not like this."

The idea that this was his, that even an enemy here got a bed, with blankets, with pillows? Between that, and the painful memories he was still struggling to forget, it was more than Alakor could take. His throat tightened, and his eyes burned, threatening tears. Alakor wanted to think that it took more to earn his loyalty than a damn bed, but when, in all his life, had he even had that? He stumbled back a few paces, never even touching the cushion. A weakness rushed through him, fueled by emotion, and a strange sort of sudden uncertainty. His hind legs wobbled, and he flopped back onto his haunches. The gryphon sniffled, wiping away a few stray tears with the back of a forepaws.

Gods, he thought, what was wrong with him? Alakor liked to think of himself as so much stronger than this. All his adult life, he'd served the Union as spy, an enforcer, even an assassin, whatever dangerous missions were required of him. He and the other snow gryphons suffered their masters' abuses and mistreatments, and still held their head high and their wings mantled in pride. The worse they were treated, the stronger it made them, or so he told himself. He'd clawed his way up their ranks, earning their trust, taking their callousness and cruelty in stride, in search of a chance to free himself from all that. So what was it that finally left him on the verge of sobbing like a lonely, frightened little fledgling?

A bed. A gods-damned bed.

Alakor wiped his eyes again, then set his forepaw back down. He dropped his head, staring at his own front paws in desperate attempt to focus on anything else. He sure as hell didn't want these pretty pirate sparrows to see him crying over something so foolish. Sure, he might he might have teared up a little when the princess booted him in the cargo pouch, but even for a gryphon, that was to be expected. Simpering over a damn bed was something else entirely. The very idea of it was so humiliating it churned his belly, yet still he found himself blinking back tears, and struggling to swallow down the stubborn lump in his unpleasantly tight throat. Besides, how could he present himself as a potentially indispensable member of their crew if-

“Alakor?" Lissir settled on her haunches alongside him, her voice soft. When he forced himself to meet her eyes, he found confusion etched across her features. Her ears were cocked at odd angles, her head tilted, her dark gray crown feathers lifted around her head. “You…really never had a bed, hmm?"

The white gryphon shook his head once, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself.

Lissir clicked her beak, turning to stare at the assortment of blankets, and pillows. “You know, where I grew up, we didn't have beds like this, either. But we had mats woven of discarded feathers, pillows made of stuffed animal hides…the sort of thing our ancestors used, long before the Empire folded us into their so-called civilization." She gave a little cooing noise, opening a wing. “But I'm guessing you didn't even have that."

“A wooden floor, usually. Or the dirt, the grass. Or another gryphon to lay against, whether I liked it or not." Alakor unsheathed the tips of his retractable claws, idly scratching at the floor. “Slept in a human-style bed a time or two, on missions or travels, though most places we'd stay wouldn't have something that would fit me, anyway. And if they did, the Handlers usually told me to sleep outside, or with the horses, or what have you."

“I suppose…" Lissir spoke slowly, as if she was carefully choosing each and every word. “When you believe, with all your heart, that your enemies control an army of evil monsters, it is…difficult to see those species as anything else. Even when they're on your side, or you've raised them yourself." Just as slowly, Lissir stretched her wing and gently laid it across his back. “Anyway…you've a bed, now."

Alakor tensed as the female's wing settled across him. It was a comforting, intimate gesture among gryphons, not unlike a hug. He'd certainly shared such comfort with other snow gryphons before, but never with those he once considered enemies. Under other circumstances, in his duties as a spy, he might drape his own wing across an enemy gryphon as part of an effort to secure their friendship, their trust. While Alakor knew it was possible that Lissir was doing the same to him, he did not sense any deception in her touch. She was simply offering him comfort in a difficult moment.

“Thank you." Alakor swallowed again, pressing his own wings to hers in gratitude. He closed his eyes, and if only for a moment, savored the solace found beneath another gryphon's wing.

*****

Chapter Seven

*****

While Alakor collected himself under Lissir's wing, her sister Sivik strolled past them. Sivik's ears were flattened, and Alakor could not begrudge her any suspicion. Despite Sivik's expression, her voice was soft. “This isn't entirely human style. Their beds are usually too soft for gryphons, you'll sink into it or just flatten it too much after a few nights." She pulled aside some of the blankets, revealing the sturdy wooden platform beneath, and the layers of woven feather mats lining it. “So this will support your weight, but also provide comfort beneath all the other blankets and cushions."

“It looks very comfortable." Alakor bowed his head to the other female. “Thank you again."

Sivik patted the many, thick, warm-looking covers. “It gets cold in here at night, especially when we're at altitude. You're descended from arctic stock, so you might be comfortable just laying on top. Otherwise, the blankets are warm, and…well…" She chuckled, setting her paw down. “I assume you know how blankets function, even if you've never had one."

Alakor managed a little smile. “I do, yes."

“Why don't you show the crybaby bird the shitter?" The human's voice rang out behind them. “Then we can leave him to cry about his fancy new bed without being so embarrassed for himself."

Alakor glanced back at her, grinding his beak. He didn't much like being called the crybaby bird, but he supposed he'd said far worse to them not long ago. Plus, for all he knew, she might well actually be trying to give him some private time to let him deal with his emotions. She didn't exactly seem the sweet and soft-spoken type, after all. That was fine with him.

“Yes, you said there was a latrine nearby?" Alakor nudged Lissir's wings once more, thankful for her comfort, then pushed himself up when she eased it back. “And a bathtub?"

Lissir stood up next to him, turning around. “It's the same place as ours, Amelia. Lead the way, will you?"

“Right." Amelia waved him forward, resting her rifle over her shoulder. “Let's go, Snowballs."

“You know," Alakor said, padding after her. He still wasn't pleased with the nickname. “The more you call me that, the more I wonder if you aren't hoping for an up close inspection of them."

“Oh, sure!" Amelia flashed him a wicked grin. “But you ain't gonna like what I do when I get my hands on 'em."

“Perhaps not." He watched her shift her rifle as they walked across the room. “You know, they make straps for those."

“Nah, the Ebony Ranger's my gryphon riding gun. It secures into the side of Sivik's saddle." Amelia padded the gun's butt. “Long as I'm stuck watching over you, though, I'd rather have it on me."

“I should think wielding it while flying is all the more reason to put a proper strap on it." He glanced towards Sivik, trailing at his side, but she only shrugged her wings. “At least that way, if you dropped it in flight-"

“If I ever dropped it in flight, it's because I just got shot." Amelia laughed, shaking her head. “Then I got a bigger fuckin' problem than losing my gun."

“Fair enough." Alakor looked Sivik over as they neared the edge of the room. The saddle and associated harness she wore looked over very high quality. The straps were all thick, sturdy but heavily padded. The buckles were all placed in such a way as to avoid digging into her at any point. “That looks comfortable."

Sivik lifted a wing, looking herself over. “Hardly even realize I'm wearing it, anymore. It's all custom-fitted." She flicked a wing towards her sister. “She's got one too, and so do the boys. We've quite a few, really. Some for saddles, some cargo, others to carry weapons and so on. I'm sure your people wear similar."

“We do, though a lot less thought has been put into making ours comfortable. A few of the saddle harnesses are profoundly uncomfortable on purpose, to keep you in line." He shook his hind end, hissing. “Especially for males."

Amelia laughed as she came to a stop at a door. “Ooh, can you imagine the look on the boys' faces if I tried to put a saddle like that on them?"

Lissir grinned. “I think Malaresh would literally eat you, if you tried to strap his balls into some kind of disciplinary saddle."

“I wonder who that would be more awkward for?" Sivik giggled, nudging Amelia with her beak. “You, or Malaresh?"

“Malaresh." Amelia rubbed Sivik's ear. “Grabbin' a dragon by the nuts would just be fun, for me."

Alakor froze. “A dragon?" He flattened his ears back, wings tight to his body. A chill trickled down his spine, and into his hind paws. “You have a dragon on board?"

“…Oops." Amelia made a face. “Not really supposed to let that slip, but you'd know soon enough. He's not on board, right now, though."

“Technically," Lissir said, lowering her voice. “He's not exactly part of the crew."

Sivik clicked her beak. “It's complicated. If you ask him, he's here because he owes Nira and her family a favor."

“Of course, he'd also tell anyone who listens that the ship should belong to him." Lissir tossed her head, swishing her tail. “Just because he's a dragon."

“A dragon." Alakor slowly swung his head around, gazing at each of the three females in turn. “A full size dragon? Or one of the little-"

“Bigger than you," Lissir said, her voice flat. “And with an ego to match. Still, he's one of the family, whether he likes it or not."

Sivik grinned at her sister. “The same could be said for us."

Alakor ground his beak. He'd been watching their ship for weeks, yet he hadn't seen a dragon leave the vessel at any point. “I'd heard you were in contact with one, but I…didn't know he was actually part of your crew."

“He's been gone a while." Lissir stretched a wing forward to preen it. “Sometimes he comes and goes on his own. He's supposed to be returning with supplies soon, actually. That's why we've been drifting in and out of this persistent cloud bank the last few weeks. It's where it was decided we'd meet back up with him."

“Wonderful." Alakor growled to himself, muttering under his breath. He lashed his tail, his earlier anxiety returning to grip his belly with cold fingers. “Don't know how I missed that. Must be slipping, too focused on my plan to do my job. That's exactly the sort of thing I would have been expected to report, were I intending to return home. This might be a problem for me. Maybe for all of us."

“You're babbling, Snowballs." Amelia shifted her grip on her rifle, then sighed. “Tell you what. You tell us what the hell you're muttering about, and I'll put this away. Deal?"

Alakor glanced up, beak parted in amused smile. “You're just looking for an excuse to give your arms a rest. But very well."

Amelia stowed her rifle on its holster at Sivik's side, buckling it into place. “First hint of you causing trouble, and I'm-"

“Taking it back out, and blowing something off of me, got it." He waited until the three of them were paying him their full attention, then gestured with a paw. “You should know, that we don't get along with dragons."

Lissir flexed her wings. “Dragons don't get along well with anyone, in my experience. I know, historically speaking, dragons and gryphons used to fight. But Malaresh and Jirril get along just fine."

“Just fine?" Amelia folded her arms. “I think everyone knows that blue parrot and the big, black lizard have fucked more than a few times."

“That's not what I meant." Alakor shifted his weight, uncomfortable. “I meant, snow gryphons, and dragons. One of the Union's first major acts, early in the war, was to send snow gryphons out to track down the Dragon Lords who ruled the Empire's provinces. The Union warships and hunting parties later, but first? It was snow gryphons. My parents' generation helped kill and capture an awful lot of those Dragon Lords and their kin. Your…Malaresh, he may very well have a grudge against my people."

Amelia scowled, scratching her cheek. “Far as I can tell, Malaresh has a grudge against just about everyone involved with the Union." She held her hands up. “Now, I never heard him badmouth any snow gryphons…hell, never even heard of snow gryphons, till today. And he gets along with the girls and Jirril as well as anyone, so…Well, Nira wouldn't let him incinerate you without good reason, so I wouldn't worry about it."

Alakor just stared at her, trying to keep his beak from dropping. “Perhaps you mean well, but that is far less comforting than you may have intended."

Lissir set her forepaw atop his own. “How about this, then? I think he'll understand, when he realizes why you're defecting. But if not?" She patted his paw. “You're our prisoner, which makes your safety our responsibility. I promise you, we won't let the dragon do you any grievous harm."

“Thank you." Alakor bowed his head to her. “That puts me…" He blinked, lifting his head again, crown feathers lifted. “Wait, grievous harm?"

Sivik warbled her agreement with her sister. “Well, we'll keep you safe, if we must, but if you start insulting us again, and making jokes about mounting us all the time, we might accidentally leave you two alone and let Malaresh knock you around a bit before we come back."

Amelia laughed, flashing the male gryphon a wicked grin. “Or you'll hit it off with the dragon, and you'll be the one who ends up getting mounted and fucked."

Alakor blinked, a smile cracking his worried veneer. “Perhaps so. Never been with a dragon. Could be one way to win his trust, I suppose." Then he blinked, wincing. “Wait, how big is he?"

Amelia shrugged, then made an impressive indication of size between her outstretched hands. “About like that, I suppose."

“I meant his body!" Alakor stared at her, wide-eyed. “And how do you know?"

“Yes, Amelia!" Sivik turned her head towards the human woman, grinning, her ears perked. “How do you know?"

“Oh, please." Amelia waved off the female gryphon. “When you walk around, and sleep, without pants, sooner or later someone's gonna see it." She turned back towards Alakor. “So you want us to show you the shitter, or not?"

“I'm not so sure when you put it that way." Alakor chuckled to himself. “Very well, then. Go ahead."

“S'right through here." Amelia went to the large door, outlined in white. She used both hands to push down the gryphon sized handle, and it swung open on oiled hingers. “Come on."

Alakor let the three females go in first, then followed them inside. The room beyond was much smaller, yet still larger than he'd expected. A great, hammered copper tub sat at one side of the room. A small staircase, sized for gryphons and complete with woven traction pads, led to the top of the tub. Another descended inside it. Copper pipes running along the wall connected to large faucets with oversized handles. One was painted blue, the other red.

“You have plumbing?" Alakok's beak dropped open. “In the damn cargo bay?"

“Certainly do," Lissir said, striding past him. She swished her tail, and its feathers brushed across his beak. “This thing was built for the Imperial family, you know, and all their ministers, guardians, and so on. There was no expense spared." She waved a paw at the tub. “They probably expected the Imperials to have an entire flight of gryphons on board, considering the number of these down here."

Lissir turned away from the tub, padding across the room to another copper fixture. This one was a long sunken basin in the floor, with a large, open drain at one end, and a single, faucet-like structure at the other. Lissir flicked her wing open to point at it. “I'm guessing you know what this is?"

Alakor, to his dismay, did not. “Is it…for washing just your paws?"

The two female gryphons shared a look, and both erupted into warbling laughter. Sivik shook her head, cringing. “Oh, if you wash your paws in that, do not even think about touching us afterwards."

“Oh." Alakor flattened his ears back, embarrassment heating his beak. “That's the latrine, isn't it."

“It is." Lissir giggled, glancing down at the sunken basin. “Never used one designed for us, hmm?"

Alakor shook his head once. “Generally, we were given a pit dug in the ground. At best. Or told to just…" He scrunched his face behind his beak, waving a paw. “Go use the field nearby. So I…" Alakor slunk a few steps closer, staring at the odd, elongated bowl set into the floor. “Just…go in there?"

“Basically." Lissir waggled a paw over it. “You just squat over the basin or…stand, since you're male, I suppose you'll stand over it if you're just pissing. When you're done, you use this lever." She pushed the faucet's white-handled lever down, and soon, a steady flow of water poured it. It rushed through the basin, and into the drain. “Till it's clean again."

“Fascinating." Alakor watched the last of the water drain away, then lifted his head, lashing his tail. “Which…is never a word I expected to use to describe a latrine."

“Just be grateful someone took the time to consider how things work for creatures with four legs, instead of two. Mind you, the water tanks for this deck, while large, are still finite, so don't waste it." Lissir turned away, returning to the door. “Well, that's your tour. I need to go and find the Princess." She glanced back at Sivik. “If you think you can handle him alone?"

“She ain't alone." Amelia thumped her thumb into her chest. “She's got me." She followed Lissir out, and as Alakor wandered after her, pointed back to the main doors. “And a small armor of gnolls and lizards out there with enough firepower to put down a dragon, let alone a gryphon. I think we'll be fine."

“Yes," Alakor said, making his way towards the bed. “I assure you, I've no intention of causing trouble. Considering how little sleep I've had recently, I may just flop onto that lovely looking bed and pass out." He warbled to himself. “At least until someone brings me something to eat, and drink. Or tells me I'm allowed to leave the room."

“I'll ask the Princess and Rog to let us know where you're allowed to roam." Lissir paused to shake a single, half-unsheathed claw at him. “Under guard, of course."

“Of course." Alakor crossed the expansive room as the females headed for the exit. “I shall await a chance to gaze upon your various beauties again, then."

Sivik gave an irritable chirrup. “You're horrible."

Amelia just glared at him. “You'd better be including me, in that."

“Oh, certainly." Alakor bowed his head, chuckling. “So long as you're playing nice, I'm happy to extend you the same compliments and pleasantries."

The three females left the room, closing the doors behind it. While Alakor did not hear any locks or security bars clicked into place, the rest of the armed guards waiting just outside made it clear he was not supposed to leave. That was fine with Alakor. So long as they brought him food soon, the gryphon was content just to have a little time to relax, and test his new bed.

Alakor went to the edge of the bed, staring at it. There were more blankets and cushions than his entire flight of gryphons had to share, back when he was part of a group. Hesitant at first, Alakor reached out and set his paw atop the bed. With all the woven mats, padding, and blankets, he couldn't even feel the wooden support platform beneath it all. The gryphon moved forward, lifting a hind leg up to set his back paw onto the bed. Still, he hesitated, half expecting one of his old handlers to pop out of some secret chamber and starting screaming at him.

Animals don't belong on the bed! Get to your stall, bird!

When no such person emerged, Alakor stepped up onto the bed. Once atop it, he turned around in a tight circle, then did so a second time before flopping down onto the bedding. The hidden wood creaked under his weight, but showed no other signs of distress. Though it was likely designed with smaller gryphons in mind, he was certain it could support him.

Alakar brushed his paw back and forth across the blankets. They were soft as silk against his pads, softer even than his own feathers. They were a far cry from the coarse, bristly blankets that the Union occasionally provided. And most of the time they weren't even given that much. Alakor stretched his foreleg, grasping one of the cushions. Like the blankets, it was mostly a pale sky blue color, with a single layer of silvery lace edging it. To Alakor, it looked like the sort of pillow royalty would use. If this was what they provided prisoners, here, he could only imagine the sort of unfathomable opulence Princess Nira must live in. But for Alakor, this was splendor enough. He pulled the pillow closer, and lay his head down upon it.

Alakor perked his ears as he savored his newfound comfort. Everything was going according to plan. He'd survived his first meeting with the Princess, and learned the identities of those he assumed were her most loyal protectors. And, he'd taken the first step towards ingratiating himself as part of her crew.

Alakor smiled.

So far, so good.

*****

Chapter Eight

*****

With the prisoner secured, Lissir strode through the ship, heading for Princess Nira's office. Despite her years spent living in the ship with her sister, it still struck her just how much walking was involved to get from one section of the ship to another. The vessel was absolutely enormous, complete with multiple sets of lifts, stairwells, ladders, rigging, gangplanks and walkways, labyrinths of rooms and interconnecting corridors, and so on.

Some of the crew called it a city-ship, and with good reason. It had its own resident population, spread across a number of distinctly different decks and sectors, not unlike a city's varied districts. They had everything from tailors and cobblers, to wood and metal workers, to gunsmiths, engineers, and even farmers raising crops and livestock. They had the galleys, of course, but they also had common areas which, over the years, had turned into pubs and taverns. The ship had a currency, adopted from a number of different regions of the world. Hell, they even had their own justice system to keep order.

Whatever the Cataclysm was considered, it took a damn long time to traverse. Gryphons were not averse to walking a good distance, but under other circumstances, Lissir would simply take to her wings and fly. While some of the ship's larger rooms and passageways had the room necessary for a gryphon to spread her wings, it simply wasn't practical to fly from one section to another. If not for the fact that she was heading to an interior area, Lissir would have considered leaving via the docking bay, and flying around the outside of the ship to another entry point.

Given her size, Lissir had to take the main corridors. Many of the smaller side passages and hallways just weren't big enough for gryphons to comfortably walk. She could have squeezed herself into most of them, but more the walls brushed the feathers of her folded wings, the most claustrophobic she became. The primary passageways were filled with busy crew members of all species going about their days. The presence of so many people left their air swirling with a head-spinning array of scents, as well as a dizzying din that left her ears flattened back against her head.

At least she didn't have to worry about anyone getting in her way. One and all were quick to scramble out of the way of any oncoming gryphon. While she might not be as massive as Malaresh, or even as big as their white-feathered guest, she was still more than large enough to bowl over even the sturdy gnolls and va'chaak who made up the bulk of the security and maintenance divisions.

As Lissir reached one of the lifts large enough to support a creature her size, her thoughts wandered back to Alakor. Until today, she'd never actually met a snow gryphon before. She'd heard plenty about them over the years from other gryphons, both in her clan and those allied to hers, as well as from the Empire itself. She'd heard they were big, but Alakor was even larger than she expected. The name came from both their arctic lineage, and their mostly-white coloration. In most Empire gryphons, white was usually a highlight color, and rarely ever a primary. Yet for Alakor's people, it was just the opposite. It certainly gave him a striking, exotic appearance. Lissir had to admit, Alakor was not at all an unattractive male. It was a shame he was such an asshole, she thought.

A trip up the lift took Lissir to the Imperial Court Residence deck. Or at least, that was what the deck was originally intended for. Nira was the only official member of the Imperial Court on board, and she preferred to sleep in her smaller room on the Common Quarters deck. Nira had given a few of the other larger quarters to some of her dearest friends and highest ranking officers, and turned a lot the other rooms into libraries, archives, and meeting areas. However, she kept the original living space for the Imperial Family, along with its associated offices, armory, monitoring stations, and communications equipment.

The deck was extravagant, once, as would have befit the imperial family. One wide, maroon carpeted hallway was lined with ancient portraits of Nira's ancestors, beneath silver light fixtures. Another was adorned with wooden panels engraved with images of the Empire's history. Near the central living areas, there were decorative reliefs carved in ivory and gold. Long display cases contained massive dragon bones carved into tiny, intricate scenes of airships taking to the skies above a palace. Another held antique ornamental rifles and pistols, plated in gold, inscribed with scenes of victories battles.

There were far fewer people on this deck than those before. The relative calm provided a pleasant respite. As she approached Nira's doors, Lissir spotted a few armored va'chaak in old indigo and ebony guard uniforms. One of the lizard-like bipeds was male, with dark green scales and golden speckles. The other guard was female, with pale blue scales, and silver marking along the side of her head, and little frills. Each bore a rifle slung over one shoulder, with a pistol at the hip, along with plenty of ammo. At this point, the guards were as much a formality as anything. With the possible exception of Alakor, Lissir couldn't imagine anyone on the ship who would wish to do the Princess harm. And should the alarm bells signal an imminent threat, dozens more such guards would flood the hallways and swarm to her protection, anyway.

“Hello!" Lissir lifted her paw and waved it, offering her best imitation of a bipedal greeting. Then she dipped her head and mantled her wings, offering her respects in the way of her own people.

“Hi, Lissir." The female va'chaak came forward, eagerly rubbing and scratching at Lissir's ears as soon as the gryphon leaned into her touch. “The Princess is waiting for you."

The gryphon leaned her head into the attention, a throaty purr coaxed from her. “Mmm…that's nice." She felt a little guilty about not remembering the names of the guards, considering they knew hers. Granted, there were only a handful of gryphons board the ship, compared with hundreds of other people. There were probably not many crew members who didn't know the gryphons names. “I hope she hasn't been waiting long?"

“Not terribly." The male spoke up to answer her question. He approached and joined in with the petting, stroking her neck feathers. “She knew you had business to attend. Sounds like we've got a new guest."

“You could say that." She closed her eyes, savoring all the affection. Let it never be said, she thought, that a gryphon was too proud to enjoy a good petting. She swished her tail, cooing. “I'd stay here and enjoy this all day, if I could, but I'd better not keep her waiting much longer."

“No, probably not." The female va'chaak patted her head, then went to open the door.

When the male backed away as well, Lissir straightened up, shaking herself. Though she did so enjoy being petted, it always left her feathers mussed, which in turn left her with a great urge to preen. Still, she forced herself not to sit here preening in front of them. They might well find it get the wrong idea and think she hadn't enjoyed all the attention. Instead, she asked their names. The female was Urga, and the male, Temok. Lissir thanked them, but feared she'd never remember them without meeting these two again at least a few more times.

Urga knocked on the doors, and when Nira's muffled reply came from with, she pushed them open. The doors themselves were white, but inlaid with shimmering, iridescent blue-black pearl. When the doors were closed, the inlay created a gray black star, the symbol of the empire. To Lissir's knowledge, the name came from an old tale about the Empire's founders, and a mythical black star that led them to safety as they fled persecution. The same stay eventually led them their first alliance with the 'beasts', or so it was said.

Once the doors were open far enough, Lissir strode into Nira's office. The Princess' office was a large, circular room. The walls were the color of cream, divided into panels with elegant golden framework. Each panel had bore its own decorations. Some held frescoes of important figures, others had elegant silverwork flowers, or ornamental vases and crystalline sculptures. Light fixtures in hidden recesses cast gentle, faintly blue-tinted light throughout the room. A floor of pink marble spanned the room, with Nira's expansive, semi-circular desk at the center of it. As Nira often held meetings in her office, an assortment of chairs of various sizes and styles were also located in the room.

The desk was also marble, though it was white, with gold ribbons running through it. It looked as if it weighed more than Lissir did. Piles of books, charts, and writing utensils sat on one side of the desk. At the other side were a number of navigation tools and instruments of brass and crystal. Also sitting nearby were several spyglasses of varying length, along with handfuls of golden coins, and cartridges of various sizes for pistols and rifles.

All around the outside of the desk were carved images from the Empire's history. Most of them depicted grand battles, or the signing of great treaties, or even the flight of their first airship. Lissir had always been partial to the engraving of a human with a crown bowing before three tall gryphons. It symbolized the day that the first three warring gryphon clans voted to put aside their differences, and join the human's Empire, together. To spread their wings and fly into the future, before it left them behind.

Nira sat in the plush, black-leather chair behind her desk, gazing at an old, silver tinted photo held in a simple wooden frame, and kept under protective glass. The Princess had many other such images, though Lissir knew she kept most in her current sleeping chambers. The one she kept on her desk was different, though, special in its own way.

The image it held was of Nira's younger sister Tryn, the only other known survivor of the once great Imperial Family. Nira almost never spoke of her sister. Hell, Lissir couldn't remember the last time she'd even heard Nira utter her name. Sometimes, the gryphon wondered if it was hard for Nira to see her and Sivik together, joking around, being affectionate, even sniping at one another. Did Nira miss those things, with her own sister? Or had the years rendered those longings but dull aches, buried somewhere in her heart?

Best Lissir could tell, Nira tried not to think about her sister the way she tried not to think about her parents. The situations were both similar and vastly different. Nira's parents were dead, a fact the whole ship knew and yet Nira refused to acknowledge. Nira also rarely acknowledged that her younger sister Tryn was still alive. Considering that Nira would never get to see her sister again, Lissir imagined it was just less painful for the Princess to convince herself her sibling was dead.

“Should I…" Lissir kept her voice as soft as she could. “Come back later?"

“No." Nira turned the photo down on her desk, and pushed it aside to join an immense stack of books and charts. “I was just…thinking. Thank you, though." She waved the gryphon forward. “Come in, Lissir."

Lissir did as the princess asked. She settled into a sturdy, gryphon-style lounger across the desk from Nira. Loungers were the gryphon equivalent of a chair, an elevated surface that was either flat or lightly inclined. They allowed a gryphon a comfortable place to lay, while also elevating them above the floor. Luxurious padding in overstuffed, golden hued cushions lined this one. Lissir settled onto her belly on it, one hind leg casually hanging off the edge.

“Any trouble getting our new friend settled?" Nira leaned back in her chair, folding her arms.

“Not really." Nira rubbed the recliner's cushion beneath a paw. “I left him under guard, but I don't think he's going to bring us any problems. In fact, he…" She trailed off, unsure if she should tell Nira about Alakor's reaction to the buddy. After a moment, she decided it was for the best. “He cried, actually. When we presented his bed. Apparently, he…" She sighed, patting the chair frame. “Never had a bed, before."

Nira scowled, knitting her brows. “Not exactly the reaction I expected."

“Nor I!" Lissir swished her tail. “But…perhaps I shouldn't have been too surprised, given what I've heard about snow gryphons."

“Go on." Nira rocked her chair. “I wanted to hear about them, actually. Before the others arrive. You seem to know an awful lot about the species." She paused her rocking, her scowl deepening. “Is it a separate species?"

Lissir considered the question, stretching her wings. “I don't think I'm scientifically minded enough to answer that."

Nira chuckled, resuming her idle rocking. “Give it your best shot. I've never seen a gryphon with his colors, or his size, before."

“There are different types of gryphons, and different clans." Lissir splayed her ears, working the thoughts around in her head. Gryphons viewed such things differently than humans, and it was troublesome to translate those differences. “We would consider the snow gryphons to be an isolated, unique clan. There are different…" She clicked her beak. “I suppose your word for it, would be…breeds, of gryphons? We tend to call them clans, now, but that can have several different meanings. A clan can be the whole of a breed, like the snow gryphons, or it can be a grand collection of family units and individuals, with a leadership structure, or even an army. We have different words for them, but also different ways of saying those words, or conveying meaning with body language. They don't translate well."

Nira rubbed her face with both hands, groaning. “I understand. Alright, so…put it in simplistic terms even a dumb human can understand."

That made Lissir laugh. She lifted her head, her beak open and ears perked. “You're hardly dumb, Boss. But humans can't even move their ears properly, let alone make half the sounds we do. You can't be expected to tell the difference chiirm, and chiiirrm…" She cocked her ears to precise ankles, flattening back her wings, but splaying the feathers. Then she added a warbling, chirping noise to the word. “Chirm!"

Nira only blinked. “There was a difference?"

“Exactly." Lissir waved a paw. “One speaks of a personal clan, one speaks of clan-species, and one speaks of a clan, as a nation."

A smile tugged at Nira's lips. “I thought I told you to put it in terms us dumb humans could understand."

Lissir warbled amusement, then fell silent. Her tail swished back and forth as she considered the easiest explanation. “I suppose, if you were to speak to a biologist, they would tell you snow gryphons are a separate, but related species. Such as…" She waggled a few half-unsheathed claws. “Wolves, and coyotes. They're both similar, but wolves are much larger, and coyotes much more populous. Separate, but closely related enough to breed together, from time to time. To the same extent, there are different species of gryphons, but where our different clans once warred, eventually we united." She gestured to Nira's desk, to the image of the three gryphon rulers forging their alliance with the humans. “Over the generations, the physical differences between our clans have blurred. But the snow gryphons, they were isolated, living in the mountains to the far, far south, where the Union was borne. So they remain a separate species of gryphon, a clan apart."

“That's a lot of words just to tell me yes, Alakor's a different species than you are." Nira leaned back again, putting her boots up on her desk. “But thank you for the explanation, just the same."

Lissir chirped, lifting her crown feathers. “I thought you'd appreciate the finer details. You do seem to have an interest in our people, after all."

“I sure as hell do. You're fascinating." Nira grunted, her jaw flexing. “I'd be happy to sit and have a few drinks with you and your sister sometime, and just…learn all about gryphons. Hell, I wish Malaresh was half as forthcoming about dragons as you are about your species. For now, though, we'd best keep focused on our guest."

Lissir nodded once. “Biologically speaking, I believe that he is a separate species from us. Not so distinct as to be unable to breed with us, though. Not that he's had the chance."

Nira grinned, tilting her head. “I slightly get the feeling you'd be interested in giving him that chance, under other circumstances."

“He's a very impressive gryphon." Lissir let her beak slowly open and her ears gradually flatten in sly smile. “And his colors are not at all unattractive. I've never seen colors like them. And, if the rest of him's just as impressive…" She gave a mock sigh. “Well, let's just say it's been far too long since a male's climbed on my back and given me a proper fucking."

Nira burst out laughing. “Lissir, that's not how that expression works."

“What?" Lissir cocked her head. She was certainly she'd used the correct human words for a satisfying mating experience. “Proper fucking?"

That only made Nira laugh harder for reasons Lissir didn't understand. She unfolded her arms to wave a hand at the gryphon. “No, no. I meant, 'let's just say.' Usually when someone uses that phrase, they're about to subtly imply something, not just blurt it out."

“Oh." Lissir rustled her wings, fluffing up. “Gryphons don't do subtlety very well."

“So I've noticed."

“It's just as well." Lissir set her head down upon a curled forepaw at the front of the lounger. “If what I've heard is true, it wouldn't matter how impressive his cock was. He wouldn't know how to use it, anyway."

“I suppose you two did tease Alakar an awful lot about being a virgin," Nira said, quirking a brow. “Dare I ask if that's something gryphons can tell so easily?"

Lissir chirruped and giggled. “Oh, no, not really. It's not as if our feathers turn colors after someone pleasures us for the first time, or our crown feathers grow in after our first mating." She held up a paw. “But to my understanding, all snow gryphons who serve the Golden Union are purposefully bred. The gryphons don't have a say in it, the union breeds whichever pairs it thinks will provide the offspring who best suit their needs. Then the Union takes away their eggs, and raises the fledglings to obey their masters."

Nira pulled her feet off her desk, leaning forward. “You said earlier. It's rather, sickening, actually. The Union seems to think that anything that isn't human is somehow…lesser than them, no matter how intelligent they are."

“Exactly." Lissir clicked her beak. “I rather doubt that snow gryphons are allowed much opportunity for recreational mating. Even if he's bred a few times, it's not as if he's going to be any good at it."

Nira rubbed her chin, smiling again. “I suppose you'll just have to show him the ropes, then."

“Very funny." Lissir clicked her beak. “Defecting or not, he's still Union. And an asshole, at that."

Nira chuckled, reaching for one of her navigational instruments. She picked up the collection of brass circles and dials, idly turning it over in her hands. “Speaking of his defection, what's your honest assessment? Is he genuinely looking to defect, or is he fucking with us? It's certainly crossed my mind that he might still be working for the Union. He could be under orders to locate us, and fake a defection in order to worm his way into the crew, then flee with as many of our secrets as possible."

“I wondered as much, myself."

At the mention of secrets, Lissir glanced past Nira, towards the section of wall at the far side of the room. Though the room was circular, Lissir considered that area to be the back of it, as it was opposite the entryway. The room had several hidden doors in its white and gold paneled walls. One led to the secret corridor that connected to Imperial Family's private quarters, as well as a few other areas. Others led to various escape routes of emergency escape. One, however, led only to an immense door made of strange, black material. Lissir had seen the door only once, and it the sight of it left the skin under her pinfeathers prickling and tingling. It looked like stone, smooth and black like obsidian. And yet, no matter what manner of light reached it, cast no reflection whatsoever. It was as if the ship's builders created a door made from shadow itself, then hidden it away behind the Imperial Family's offices. Whatever that meant, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

And yet, curiosity was a beast ever seeking to escape from it's cage. Lissir gestured with her beak towards the far wall. “Have you ever…?"

Nira grunted, not looking back. “Yes. And to answer your inevitable follow up question, what I found in there was a lot of very confusing things I decided it best not to mess with. I'd rather not talk about that, right now, aside from the hope that Alakor isn't actually here to try and steal whatever all that stuff is."

“Well, what's it look like?" Lissir ruffled her feathers. “Was it weapons, or tomes with forbidden knowledge, or-"

Nira slapped her free hand against her desk. “Not now. I want to know what to tell Rog before he gets here with the others. So. Can we trust Alakor or not?" She held her hands up. “You can only guess, I know, but you've a better insight into him than I do."

Lissir nodded, sitting up a little on her lounger. “Fair enough." She took a slow, deep inhalation, fluffing herself up as she considered the question. It was difficult to say one way or the other. She simply hadn't had enough time to talk with, and observe, the white-feathered male. Then she let all the air back out in a long, deliberate sigh. “I'm not certain."

Nira groaned, rubbing her forehead. “Lissir…Just take your best gods-damned guess."

The gryphon chirred, an irritated noise. She did not like making guesses on important matters. Still, Nira went with her instincts more often than not, and most of the time, the princess's best guesses had panned out. A few of them had even saved their lives, in times past. Granted, Nira's guesses that hadn't worked out were often the reason their lives were in danger in the first place. But Lissir supposed as long as it all worked out well in the end, that was what mattered.

“What do your instincts tell you?" Nira waved the astrolabe, leaning back in her chair again. “You said he cried just because we'd given him a bed, right? Did it seem genuine? Was he truly moved by something so basic, or did it seem more like a spy playing for sympathy?"

“I believe it was genuine." She ground her beak, pinning her ears. “Genuine enough that I comforted him, in fact. The Union does likely treat them like animals. They're probably brainwashed from childhood, told they're…just beasts, given a chance to earn a soul by serving the Union's God, or some such bullshit." She snarled under her breath, flaring her crown feathers. “And with his attitude, he probably got himself beaten for talking back an awful lot growing up, too."

She unsheathed a single claw tip, tapping it against the lounger, thinking out loud. “If half the stories are true, it would have been a terribly difficult life, but he wouldn't have known any better for most of it. But late in the war, or after it, it would be harder and harder for the Union to hide the fact that the Empire's gryphons aren't servants. They're citizens. Or at least they were, before the Union. As a spy, he's probably been to places the Union doesn't control. Realized he doesn't to spend his whole life as their slave, beaten into submission. This place, our ship?" She waved her paw at the space around them. “It's probably his best chance to escape all that. Especially if he's telling the truth about the Union extending their influence into formally non-allied lands. Wouldn't do him much good to flee them if they're just going to annex whatever country he fled too. But with us, he'd be free, for the first time in his life."

Nira turned the astrolabe over in her hands a few times. “You're making a pretty strong case for a genuine defection."

Lissir's worked her beak in silence, struggling for a reply. A few times, she'd caught something in the white gryphon's eyes, some haunted, anguished ghost drifting just behind his azure irises. It was there, when he was staring at the bed, and it was there, when she teased him about being bred and he could not meet her eyes. Wait…did that mean…?

“I think…" She kneaded the edge of her lounger. “I think maybe they bred him, recently. And…maybe that was the last straw, as your people say."

Nira leaned forward again. “Go on."

“It was clear that teasing him about whether he'd mated or not was getting under his feathers, but maybe not for the reasons we thought. When we got him to his quarters, I asked him if his old masters had already bred him. I realized when I said it, it was a step too far, but…" Her ears drooped. “I think he has a child. Or…they bred him to some female he cared about. Maybe both. I don't think they'd let him see his child. Maybe he…he just couldn't stand to be part of that, anymore."

Nira frowned, quiet for a moment. When she spoke up again, her voice was softer, and heavy with sympathy. “That's terrible. But…don't you think he'd want to stay, if only to make some effort to go and see his child?"

Lissir tensed, slowly turning her eyes towards the face-down picture of Nira's younger sister. “With respect, Princess…will you ever try and see your sister?"

Anger flashed in Nira's eyes, and slammed her hand on the desk. “My sister is-" She clamped her jaw shut, the fury melting away as swiftly as it arrived. “Point taken."

“I'm sorry." Lissir bowed her head, best she could while lying on a lounger. “That was too far."

“No, no." Nira sighed, saking her head. “It was exactly far enough. If you're right, and they did force him to father a child…That could be grounds for him to finally undertake a defection he'd been considering. But…" She cursed under her breath, tossing the astrolabe onto the desk. “We also have to consider it could be grounds for blackmail. Tell him they'll bend the rules, let him raise his own child, if undertakes a dangerous, secret mission."

“That is…" Lissir growled to herself, wishing she'd considered such a cruel, but entirely plausible, option herself. “More likely than I'm comfortable with."

“Agreed." Nira held both hands up. “Granted, we're just firing shots in the dark here, anyway. He may very well just be genuinely seeking an escape from the Union. Gods know I couldn't blame him there. And if he's telling us the truth, he'd make a hell of an ally. Kasis could pick his brain for Union intel for years. We've plenty of people on board the ship who'd love to get back at the Union, but far fewer who can actually give us real, up to date information on how they operate, and where they're operating. Alright, Lissir. If you had the make the decision right now, do you believe he's genuinely defecting?"

“Yes." Lissir nodded once. “But, I-"

“No but's." Nira shook a single finger at the gryphon. “Yes, or no."

Lissir ground her beak. It was an impossible to distill such a question down to a simple yes or no answer, but her instincts said yes. If she was a brainwashed Union slave bird, who only just discovered the gryphons outside the Union weren't treated like animals, she'd want to get the hell out of there, too.

“Yes."

“I concur." Nira reached across the desk and dragged a leather bound folder across it. She flipped it open, and pulled out a document. From the looks of things, she'd already filled it out in part. She pulled a pen from a stoneware container, and scribbled a few things out on the document. “I'm authorizing an upgrade of his status. He's now officially a guest of the ship, and is further authorized to visit the following list of areas. However, he is to remain under guard, and I am officially placing you and your sister in charge of him. Anywhere not explicitly listed should be considered off limits."

“As you wish, Princess." Lissir clicked her beak twice, then dipped her head in a formal bow.

Nira lifted her pen and waggled it at the gryphon. “Let's be clear on one thing. He is to remain under suspicion of possible continued Union allegiance until we have full and complete reason to believe otherwise. Watch him and listen to him carefully. If you, your sister, or anyone else see or anything the least bit suspicious, I want to know immediately. I'll tell Rog and the others in person. I'm keeping that off the documentation, because I want you to be able to show this to Alakor."

“A wise idea." Lissir tilted her head. “Anything else?"

Nira signed her name to the document, then blew on the ink. “Just inform me directly of anything else you learn about him, or anything you deem important. For example, if he ends up confirming he does have a child, or if he lets slip any particularly grievous abuses he might wish to avenge, or if you fuck him, or-"

“What was that last one?" Lissir narrowed her ears, her ears pinned.

“Grievous abuses." Nira set the pen down, then laid the document atop the folder. “It could be possible that he is genuinely defecting, but for purposes of using us as tools for revenge."

“Hilarious, Princess." Lissir fluffed herself up, then smiled. “Do you really want to know?"

“Only if you feel like bragging." Nira folded her arms again, matching the gryphon's grin. “Or complaining, if he's as inexperienced as you believe."

Lissir gave a playful snarl. “As you wish, Your Highness. But it's not likely to happen, anyway. If I wanted to mate with someone that egotistical, I'd go visit Malaresh."

Nira laughed, rocking her chair again. “There's an idea. Though, I heard a dragon's penis has spines on it."

Lissir scrunched her face behind her beak. “That sounds unpleasant. Thankfully, his tongue sure as hell doesn't."

Nira quirked a brow. “Speaking from experience, are we?"

Lissir just tossed her head. “Hearsay, more like. Speaking of which, it seems as though Amelia's seen it. Perhaps we should ask her if it has spines."

Nira leaned forward, her eyes widening. “She has? I didn't know she and Malaresh ever…well, anything. But I suppose she has spent a lot of time with him. And there was the episode where she had to have him fitted for a saddle. Oh, now I'm extra curious."

Lissir gave a chittering giggle. “About the dragon's cock, or Amelia's knowledge of it?"

“Both." A knock on the door interrupted Nira, and she called out. “Yes?"

Urga opened the door a crack and pushed her blue scale muzzle through the opening. “Guard Captain Rog, Chief Navigator Kasis, and Chief Mechanic Vekk are here to see you."

“Thank you!" Nira offered the gryphon a playful smile. “As much as I've enjoyed our chat, I've business to conduct. You're welcome to stick around, if you like."

Lissir shook her head. “I'd better go and make sure Alakor's not giving Amelia or my sister any trouble. I'll tell him what we agreed upon, as well."

“Sounds good." Nira hopped out of her chair, and came around to give Lissir a hug around her neck. “Thank you, Lissir, your help has been invaluable."

“Glad to hear it, Princess." Lissir happily leaned into the human's touch. Nira had been a dear friend for a long time, royalty or not. She lifted her foreleg and returned Nira's hug before pulling back. “I'll talk with you later, then. Get a drink tonight?"

“Love too." Nira returned to her desk, offering a farewell wave. “See you then."

*****

Chapter Nine

*****

Nira smiled at her friends as they entered her office. Rog came in first, followed by Vekk and Kasis. Though she had plenty of other officers, over her decade or so on the ship, these three had proven themselves to be not only among her most trusted friends, but also her most her most competent crewmen. She'd made them her personal advisors as well as putting them in with their heads of their respective divisions.

Rog was still wearing the same clothes from before, the black tunic and breeches with silver buttons. He looked as if he'd brushed his fur, at least. He'd left the axe somewhere, and replaced it with a leather bound log-book, instead. Nira had always thought Rog looked sharp when well dressed. Now, if she could just get him to put on a formal jacket, or a fine vest, he might really look impressive. If nothing else, the idea of a big gnoll warrior in fine, formal attire amused her.

As Vekk and Kasis followed Rog in, they whispered and giggled to each other, holding hands. Between their short stature, Vekk's big ears and fluffy fur, and Kasis' blunt muzzle and twitching tail, Nira couldn't imagine a cuter couple. Vekk was in clean clothes, all the grease and grime washed from his thick gray and red fur. Now his pelt spilled out over the collar of his blue shirt, and protruded from between its buttons, as well as out of his sleeves. In the absence of his usual pockets filled with tools, he'd buckled a variety cargo bags across his chest and around his waist. Kasis was in fresh clothing as well, though hers was simply another hybrid jumpsuit she'd stitched together for herself, this time black. She carried a bulging satchel across her shoulder.

“You know, Kasis," Nira said, propping her boots up on her desk. “I can't help but notice that not only is Vekk all nice and clean now, but you're in clean clothes, too."

“Someone's got to scrub all that grease out of his fur." Kasis shot her lover a playful glare. “Gods know he sure as hell won't do it himself."

“Sure I will!" Vekk hooked his free hand under the cargo strap across his chest. “At the end of the day. But, yanno, no one's gonna say no when their female offers to help them wash up." He nudged Rog's leg with his elbow. “Right big guy?"

Rog flashed the smaller male a grin. “Damn right."

Kasis flattened her tiny frills back, hissing. “I am not 'your female.' You know I don't like it when you call me that."

“I know, I know." Vekk squeezed her hand. “You prefer it when I call you my girl, right?"

Kasis jerked her hand away from his, and slapped him over the head with it.

“Ow!" Vekk rubbed his oversized ears, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry, Sunset."

“You'd better be." She smiled at him, then kissed the side of his muzzle. “Now knock it off."

“Yes, Sunset." Vekk dragged over one of the high chairs for her. Nira kept several such chairs in her office, kobold-sized seats, elevated to the level of the princess' desk. “Lemme get that for you."

Kasis scrabbled up the chair, and settled herself, then pulled her satchel off her shoulder and tossed it onto the desk. Vekk pulled another chair over for himself, as Rog pushed the gryphon lounger out of the way. The gnoll replaced it with a larger chair better suited for gnolls, then plopped himself into it. Most of the furniture on the ship was better suited for non-humans than it was for humans. The chairs often had frames and designed to comfortably fit tails, as well as the animal-like leg and foot structures of other peoples.

“Got a guard regiment assigned," Rog said, passing Nira his log book. “Put the girls and Amelia at the top of it, but also gave them authority to reassign others in their place or as needed."

“Good!" Nira skimmed through the list of names. She recognized most of them, if not all, but anyone who Rog trusted with the job was good with her. “I'm authorizing him to visit a few common areas, but he's to remain under guard for the time being. Lissir and I believe his defection request to be genuine, but there's no real way to prove it other than earning our trust over time. And that burden's on him." She fetched her pen, then signed off on the guard assignments, and passed the book back to Rog. “I want everyone to keep a close eye on Alakor though. Watch what he does, where he goes, where he's looking…and listen to him, too. What he asks about, what he says about himself, anything he lets slip, and so on. As much as I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, for the safety of this ship and its crew, I need to consider him as a potential Union spy and saboteur."

“I think that's smart." Vekk tugged the cargo strap back and forth across his chest. The fur poking between black buttons shifted with it. “I sure as hell don't want him going anywhere near the engines. Or the fuel depots. Or the boilers. Or the turbines. Or the gas pumps. Or the gas bag access-"

Nira held her hand up to cut the urd'thin off. “I get it, Vekk, I get it. Don't worry, right now he's only authorized for galleys, the lower decks pub, one viewing deck, and the shops. I don't even want him allowed onto any outside areas yet. He's obviously seen the ship plenty from the outside, but I don't want him to have a chance to find his way to any other exterior access points."

“Good, good." Vekk rubbed his hands together, then propped his elbow up on the arm of his chair. “I ran all the inspections. Couple minor issues that popped up. There's a propulsion turbine I don't wanna use until we finish a repair, but we should have that done by the morning. A boiler that needs a re-weld. Everything else looks good, though. Haven't had time to run every test, but I'll get that done this evening."

Rog glanced down at Kasis, giving her a big, toothy gnoll grin. “Yeah, Kasis had her own tests to run, sounds like."

Kasis stretched her bronze scaled arms out, interweaving her fingers, playfully cracking her knuckles. “We had to test an especially important piston."

“Which, I might add." Vekk perked his over-sized gray ears, sitting up straighter. “Performed in an exemplary way."

The kobold gave her lover a sly, sidelong look. “I'd say it earned a satisfactory grade, at least. Could use replacing with a newer model."

“Hey!" Vekk slapped the arm of his chair, laughing. “Very damn funny, Sunset!" He huffed, pinning his big ears back, then returned his attention to Nira. “Anyway, if we have any problems or discover anything problematic, I'll let you know right away. I think we should be good, though. If we had to run, or fight, I'd be confident in firing things up full go."

“Speaking of fighting," Rog said, scratching at the ruff of dark fur on the back of his neck. “I told the gunnery crew to check and test every cannon and gun the ship's got, and any other weapons, too. Haven't heard back yet, but shouldn't be any real problems. Got security staff checkin' their own weapons too, and everything in the armories." He glanced at the urd'thin and kobold. “You two should get your own groups to do the same. Just in case."

“Yeah, yeah." Kasis waved him off. “Half of us don't even carry guns, but I'll pass it along."

“You better." Rog folded his arms. “And when's the last time you cleaned yours?"

“About the last time I fired it." Kasis twitched her tail.

“Which was when?" Rog glowered down at her.

“Shit if I know!" The little kobold threw her hands up. “I got more important things to do than drop a pistol into a soapy tub. Yanno, like making sure we don't crash this thing into a fuckin' mountain."

The gnoll just stared at her, his muzzle hanging open. “Please tell me you don't drop it into the tub."

Kasis snapped her jaws. “Of course not! I just knew it'd piss ya off." She held her hands up sighing. “I'll make sure it's well maintained, alright?"

Rog smiled at her, nodding once. “That's all I ask."

“Whatever. Don't forget to oil up and sharpen your precious axe." The kobold made an annoyed, growling noise. “That way, when you get shot from a distance, you won't have to worry about being embarrassed when your killers loot you for a dull, rusty weapon."

Nira chuckled, shaking her head. “Alright, alright. That's enough. Kasis, what have you got for us?"

Rog gave an loud snort, flattening back his ears. “A poorly maintained pistol, apparently."

“Hey!" Kasis hopped to her feet on the elevated chair, growling again, louder this time. “You keep it up, mutt, and I'm gonna nail you one in the powder bag so hard, your weapon's gonna need some maintenance!"

“Aww, are you inviting me to join you two's next bath?" Rog let his muzzle hang open, his tongue lolling over his teeth, a rather insulting expression among gnolls. “I'd be happy too! Wouldn't wanna make Vekk jealous, though."

“That's it! I'm taking you down, mutt!" Kasis leapt off her chair with a snarling cry.

“ACK!" Rog swiftly covered his crotch with one hand, using the other to fend off the furious kobold scrambling up his chair. He grabbed her around the throat, not painfully, just enough to hold her at bay. “Truce, truce! Don't make me put you in time out, little lizard pup!"

“Get yer hands off her!" Vekk leapt out of his own chair, scrabbling to Kasis' defense. “I'm coming, Sunset!"

Nira just stared, watching it all unfold. At this point, as long as no one got serious injured, she was inclined just to let them all wear themselves out. Gods, she thought, it's like dealing with children. Dangerous, dangerous children. Soon Kasis and Vekk were on opposite sides of Rog, clambering over him and his chair as if they were scaling the ship's rigging. They across him, leaving the gnoll to try and keep them at arms length, or snatch them up and toss them back to the floor. Rog finally got an arm around Vekk's waist, and stood up, hefting the smaller creature up like a squirming sack of grain. He tried to snatch Kasis next, but she scrabbled up the front of Nira's desk before he could get hold. Just as quickly, Kasis propelled herself off of it right into the gnoll's chest.

The impact hit Rog hard enough to rock him back into his chair. That in turn upended the chair and sent everyone toppling backwards along with it. Wood cracked and shattered as the chair collapsed, and all three combatants thumped soundly against the marble floor. Nira winced, but since there weren't any screams, remained content to let things sort themselves out. Rog sprawled on his back, coughing. Vekk groaned alongside him, panting for breath. Kasis tumbled across the floor, and ended up flat on her belly, her tail sticking up in the air. She pushed herself up, looking around. Then with a little whimper, crawled back to the others.

Kasis climbed atop Rog, and sat upon his chest, smiling down at him. “I win."

Rog coughed again, returning her smile, a bit more sheepishly. “Good game."

Nira finally laughed, rising out of her seat to go help everyone up. “You three are gonna kill each other, one of these days." She reached down and hoisted the kobold off of Rog's chest. Normally Kasis hated being picked up, but this time she hung limp from Nira's arms, and offered no protest as Nira returned her to her own seat. “You owe me a new chair."

“Technically," Kasis said, a smile on her blunt, bronze muzzle. “Rog broke it."

“Technically," Rog said, slowly sitting back up. “Next time, I'm gonna throw you so hard you stick into the wall like a dart."

“That's not how 'technically' works, Rog." Nira bent over to offer Vekk her hand. The groaning urd'thin staggered back to his feet, and Nira helped him back into his elevated chair. She turned to help the gnoll up, next. “And you did egg her own pretty hard, that time. But." She grasped Rog's hand with both of hers, pulling with all her might till the gnoll was standing. Then she turned back to Kasis, waving a finger. “You broke the chair, so you pay for the replacement. And clean up the mess."

Kasis huffed, muttering something under her breath in the kobold tongue. Then she glanced at Nira. “Yeah, yeah, alright."

Nira went back around to her desk, dropping into her chair with a sigh. “So, now that you three have earned your bruises for the day, can we get back to business?" She gestured at Kasis. “You were about to tell us what you had." Then she shot Rog a glare. “Keep your muzzle shut this time."

“No idea what you're inferring." Rog went to the gryphon lounger.

Kasis watched him closely, waiting until she was sure he wasn't going to interrupt before she began. She pointed to her satchel on the desk. “I drew up three potential routes for us to take, but the more I thought about it, the more I think we should-"

SCCCRREEEEEEEEEEEE!

As Rog dragged the gryphon lounger back towards the desk, it made a horrible, grating sound against the floor. The noise drowned out Kasis' voice completely. Nira cringed at the obnoxious sound, pinching the bridge of her nose. The noise continued for a few moments, then Rog paused to glance back at everyone.

“Hey Kas, what were you saying?"

Kasis folded her arms. “I ain't gonna talk till you're done, otherwise you're just gonna-"

SCCCRREEEEEEEEEE!

As soon as he stopped once more, Kasis thrust an dull clawed finger at him. “He's doin' that on purpose!"

“Of course he is." Nira shot the gnoll a glare. “Rog, cut it out."

Rog turned around, his ears swiveled in feigned innocence confusion. “Cut what out?"

“Rog, behave yourself, or I'm banning you from alcohol for a week."

The gnoll's jaw dropped. “All alcohol?"

“Yes!" Nira slapped her hand on the desk. “Now either bring that thing over here and sit on it, or just stand here. Either way, stop needling Kasis."

Rog grumbled, dragging the lounger over without further scraping sounds. “Give you something to sit on, more like."

Nira glared at him, even as she tried not to laugh at his childish but admittedly amusing retort. After all their years together, they still had practically the same juvenile sense of humor. The only real difference was Nira knew when to quit. “I can hear you, you know."

“I kinda thought…" Vekk gestured between Nira and Rog. “You two had already…"

Nira glanced over at the urd'thin. “Vekk, please."

“You know." Vekk made a circle with his furred thumb and finger, then held up a single finger on the other. “The ol'…"

“Yes, Vekk, everyone knows what you're implying." Nira ignored his question.

The urd'thin moved his finger towards the circle. “So, is that a yes? Have you and Rog-"

“Vekk, if you complete that gesture?" Nira set her hands on the desk, leaning over it towards him. “I'm putting you on latrine scrubbing duty for the rest of the year. And Malaresh's latrine, at that."

Vekk dropped his hands into his lap. “Speculation cheerfully withdrawn."

“The Emplacement!" Kasis slapped the edge of Nira's desk. “If you males would both stop being so damn obnoxious for at least one minute, I'm trying to tell the Princess I believe we should venture to The Emplacement."

Nira snapped her attention back to Kasis, her voice flat. “The Emplacement. Really? Don't we have enough trouble?"

Kasis shrugged, her tail twitching faster than usual. “I know, I know, it's always a risk going there."

“A fun risk," Rog said, though he kept his voice soft.

Nira smirked. “Also true. But why?"

Kasis scratched her muzzle. “We're already going towards the Teeth, right? As long as they're willing to let us through, The Emplacement is the easiest transit point. Plus can restock some things while we're there. See if we've any more connections on new sources of lifting gas, too. More importantly?" She held up a finger. “If that white-feathered shit-brain is telling the truth, there's a good chance someone at The Emplacement can verify it. Maybe not his defection, specifically, but the parts about the Union drawing up new truces with surrounding lands, and so on. There's usually at least few spies and other black market folks there willing to sell intel."

Vekk gave an irritable growl. “Yeah, and some of them probably work for the Union."

“Good," Kasis said, snarling. “We can kick 'em in the balls on behalf of the Empire."

Nira grinned at that idea. “Wouldn't pass up the opportunity if it came along." She leaned back in her chair, considering it. “We usually have a few contacts and connections of our own hanging around there, too."

“There's another thing, too." Kasis leaned forward, resting her palms on the edge of Nira's desk. “If we take Alakor at his word, about being a spy, and assassin type, then he's probably got contacts there too, right? That's exactly the sorta place they'd wanna infiltrate or otherwise establish a contact in. If they don't realize he's defecting, maybe we can use him to draw out another Union agent, get ahold of him ourselves, see what they know. Might be a good way to test Alakor's loyalty." She leaned back again. “If it turns out he's lying too us, or say…springs a trap, we can always put a bullet in that big white-feathered head."

“Or four bullets," Rog said, snorting.

“Or, yanno, all the bullets." Kasis rubbed her clawed fingers together. “Plus, if we do gotta run to another region, The Emplacement's as good a place as any to get some information to help us decide where we're heading next."

Nira drummed on the arm of her chair. “I'll admit, if there's anywhere we can go to find out why the Union's suddenly taken a renewed interest in us, and in me, it's probably The Emplacement. And since I don't get a better idea…" She laughed, shaking her head. “I guess we're going. Just…" She held up her hands. “Everybody try not to get shot this time. In fact, no shootouts in general."

Rog barked ominous laughter. “Oooh, this is gonna be fun."

The Princess shot the gnoll a threatening look, then sighed. “We better wait for Malaresh to get back, first. I have a feeling we're going to need the backup."

*****

Chapter Ten

*****

Late in the evening, Princess Nira stood upon the Cataclysm's largest external flight deck. The Cataclysm had several external areas, from observation platforms, to access points to weapons bays and engine maintenance areas, and so on. The flight deck was wide, and flat, located towards the rear of the ship, above the cargo holds and docking bays. A great, tarnished brass railing ran around the outside of it, ostensibly for safety. Immense, mirrored flood lamps illuminated the area with faintly yellow-hued light.

During the ship's construction, it was intended to house a veritable army of its own, ready to be deployed to wars afield, or in final defense of the Imperial Family. Like the rest of the Empire's army, it would have been composed in large part of non-humans, the so-called beasts Nira had only ever called friend. That army was also intended to house at least one full flight of gryphons, and perhaps even multiple dragons. The flight deck where Nira now stood was meant to be both landing pad, and staging area for their winged warriors and their potential riders. When the ship was new, all sorts of bright red markings were painted upon the flight deck's surface, indicating landing areas and staging zones. Most of them were long gone now, scratched away over years of use, or faded from exposure to the elements.

Not that it mattered, Nira supposed. The ship only had one dragon, and he'd have ignored any such directives, anyway.

That dragon was the reason Nira was standing in the cold winds, long after dark. Though she had intended to spend the evening hours drinking with her companions, a distinctive, brassy-toned alarm chime put an end to her plans before they'd even began. Unlike those warning bells earlier in the day, these signified Malaresh's impending return, along with Jirril, their third gryphon. So, she'd wrapped herself in a warm, body length black coat, and went to the flight deck to await the boys' return.

Just as the two female gryphons were often referred as the girls, the male gryphon and dragon were collectively referred to as the boys. If her recollection held true, it was Amelia who started the nicknames. Given that she was the only one on board who regularly rode their winged companions, perhaps it was just easier for her to say she was taking the girls out, or going on patrol with the boys. Whatever the case, the terms stuck. So had their usual assignments, with the boys often being sent on supply runs, and the girls flying recon around the ship. Nira just hoped the boys wouldn't be too irritable about having to fly another mission to The Embankment so soon after their return.

Nira walked to the safety railing, leaning against it. Beyond the range of the ship's lights, darkness shrouded it like a smothering blanket. On the furthest horizon, a faint purple bruise lingered, but soon that too would fade. Nira glanced down past the ship's lowest deck, towards the ground somewhere far below. With darkness settled in, there was no evidence left that the world even existed beneath them. Nira always loved gazing out into the darkness, as if they were drifting not just through the sky, but through night itself. A few pinpoints of light, and she might well have believed they'd made it all the way to the stars. What an adventure that would be, she thought with a smile.

Still, she had plenty of adventures here on the ship. Considering all the calamities that befell her people, her family, things had turned out a hell of a lot better for than she'd expected. The early years of her flight from home were treacherous, with Golden Union ships and spies always searching for her. Before the uneasy truce, Nira and her crew had to battle their way to freedom, to safety, more than once. Even after that, things certainly weren't easy, but there as absolutely something to be said for living a life in the skies.

In her youth, she'd sometimes dreamt and imagined what life might be like as a pirate, whether on the seas or in the skies, to be free to do as you pleased, go where you wished, and take what you wanted. It seemed funny now to think she'd once fantasized about living this way. Of course, in the way of youthful fantasies, a younger Nira had conveniently left out things like, struggling to keep a crew fed, or running from Union warships and law keeper vessels cause you were two low on ammo to make a stand. Let alone even how keep a ship afloat and airworthy without being able to frequently dock it. Then again, she supposed if she'd taken time to consider the difficulties of such a life, it wouldn't have made a very good fantasy.

Nira turned around to lean back against the rail, and gaze across the ship's exterior. From her current position, she could only see a portion of the great vessel. Though she'd spent at least a decade aboard it now, sometimes the sight of it still took her aback. Rows of portholes and other windows glowed with flickering lamplight, like twinkling stars stretching into the distance. Lines of reinforced armor plating spanned the hull in many places, interspersed occasionally with tangles of copper piping. Stout smokestacks and other openings vented smoke and steam, drifting away from the ship in dingy clouds. She spied a few propulsion propellers, often housed in protection cowling, some canted at odd angles.

Despite all that, most of the ship's workings were kept deeper inside, and hidden behind more armor than the average warship. The pipes, dispersal vents, and smaller vents helped to keep things from overheating. Nira also caught a glimpse of the crystalline dome that house their greenhouse and garden, on an upper deck. Higher still was a bulging, reinforced shell contained the ship's massive gas bags, filled with an especially rare and difficult to refine lifting gas, lighter than any other yet discovered.

Movement, vague and distant, drew Nira's attention. She shielded her eyes from the glare of the floodlights, and gazed into the darkness. Shadows danced at the furthest reaches of the ship's lights. They rose and fell in steady rhythm, gradually revealing themselves as massive, ebony wings. In the nighttime distance, the beast they were attached to looked formless, as if built of shadows still composing themselves. The sight left ice trickling through Nira's veins. She took a step back from the rail, shivering. She knew who it was, and yet that made it no less intimidating to see a great dragon emerge from out of the gloom, hurtling towards her.

As the dragon neared the ship, the floodlamps further defined him. Thick ebony scales covered most of the creature's body, with sturdier, scute-like plates across the front of his limbs, and protecting his chest. His four powerful limbs were tucked up against his belly as he flew, while his vast wings beat against the night sky. The dragon's head was shaped vaguely like a broad wedge, with a tapered muzzle filled with innumerable teeth. Ridged horns and spiny frills crowned the back of his skull. When his eyes caught the light, they shone as glittering emeralds. The dragon's long tail streamed out behind him, tipped with thick, curved spikes, and lined on either side of its base with spiny webbing that Nira imagined served him as a rudder, of sorts. The green color of the dragon's eyes also marked him in vaguely diamond shaped patterns down his back. A rich golden hue edged each marking. The same vibrant color also lined his wings, and tipped the spines upon his head and tail.

Currently, the dragon was covered in an immense cargo harness, leather straps and oversized brass buckles locked into place around his body and his limbs. Packs and pouches bulging with supplies hung all around him. Another larger satchel rested against his back, between his wings, with more strapped against chest and the upper part of his belly. At least it looked as if their mission had been successful, she thought, though she already dreaded having to ask him to undertake another one so soon after his return.

While Nira was pleased to see the dragon's efforts had been fruitful, she saw no sign of Jirril, the male gryphon who should have been with him. They were close companions, to say they least. Usually they left for, and returned from, missions together. Still, it wouldn't be near the first time Jirril got districted by something else with pretty feathers. Or something shiny. With any luck he'd just fallen behind the dragon.

As the dragon neared the ship, Nira moved up against the flight deck doors. Though she was the only person out there, she wanted to give the beast as much room to land as possible. Not because dragons were clumsy, far from it. Rather, they simply expected smaller creatures to get out of their way. To a dragon, it wasn't their fault if they trod on someone smaller, or say, accidentally knocked them overboard. Instead, it was the smaller creature's fault for not moving aside. Hell, a dragon expected even princesses to make way. Considering that Malaresh was the largest and most powerful creature on the ship by far, Nira found that a reasonable demand.

Malaresh was the so-called simple form of his name. The dragon himself claimed there was a complex version humans simply couldn't pronounce. Then again, the dragon also claimed to have been given many official titles, in the years before the war. Malaresh the Monarch. Malaresh the Majestic. Malaresh the Magnificent. Maleresh the Maurader. Apparently, Nira thought, he liked alliteration.

The dragon extended his hind legs as he reached the flight deck, touching down on his back paws. He hopped a step and beat his wings to catch his balance, cargo pouches jostling around him. Then he dropped his front paws down, trotting across the deck to bleed off the rest of his speed and momentum.

Muscles rippled under the black and emerald hide. He stretched his vast, gold-edged wings, then neatly folded them against his back. The spiny frills around his head all flared to their full extension, golden tips on display. The dragon padded towards her, his every movement sinuous and graceful despite his great size. As Malaresh reached her, he arched his long neck, prideful but elegant. Nira could not help but smile up at him. Even she had to admit, that up close and personal, a dragon truly was a majestic creature, just like something out of a fairy tale from her youth.

And then the dragon spoke.

“What the hell are you smiling about, human?" Malaresh snorted at her, blowing her hair back. He lifted a hind leg and shook it a few times. “Cease your daydreaming and get this fucking harness of me! It's pinching my damn balls."

Nira sighed. The regal illusion only ever lasted until they opened their mouths. When Malaresh lifted his head, she went to his chest to start opening the stiff, oversized buckles. “And who's fault is that?"

“Well, it certainly isn't mine!" The dragon tossed his head, hissing. Then he curled his neck to gaze down at her, his head tilted. “Unless you're suggesting it's because I possess an especially impressive set of testicles." He licked his nose, smug. “Which I do."

The princess chuckled to herself as she worked a buckle open. His ego was as outsized, and outlandishly amusing, as ever. “I'm suggesting your gear was designed so that you could put it on by yourself." The latch popped open, and she pulled on the strap, loosing it, then went to the next one. The dragons harness was pieced together of interlocking straps, latches, belts, rings, and so on. It was designed so that it could be assembled in a number of different ways, both for his comfort, and to support a wide variety of different loads and types of cargo, or even a saddle. It was also intended to be something he could buckle shut or remove himself, so it's sizable buckles took a good deal of effort for a human. “So if you put it on incorrectly, that would make it your fault." Nira paused, glancing up at him again. “Come to think of it, why the hell am I doing this?"

“Because you're the human, and I'm the dragon." Malaresh stomped a forepaw like an impatient child. “And servicing dragons is what humans are for."

Nira giggled under her breath, resuming her efforts. “I'm not sure that means what you think it means."

“Or perhaps," the dragon said, a throaty, playful purr creeping into his voice. “That was exactly how I intended it. There was, after all, a time when dragons were known for hosting princesses such as yourself, was there not? What do you think they were there to do for us?"

Nira gently eased a heavy cargo satchel away from the dragon's chest. Light as it was for him, it was all she could do to heft it, and lower it to the deck. “I think the word you're looking for is kidnapping princesses. Also…" She moved to another strap, working it free. “Those are only fairy tales, anyway. And they would have been long before your time, and-"

“The point is, humans should serve dragons!" Malaresh waved his forepaw, his tail lashing. “Which is why I made those simpering idiots attach my harness and cargo for me. I shouldn't have to do such menial tasks myself. But they've clearly done something wrong, because the entirely flight, the straps around my hind legs kept inching up until they were-"

“Pinching your damn balls," Nira said. “Yes, I heard you the first time."

“Actually, I was going to say, invading my royal sack's sovereign territory."

Nira blinked, then burst out laughing. “Okay, that's a new one to me." She patted his scaly hide. Despite the strength of his scales, they were smoother to the touch than they appeared, and quite warm. “Dunno where you got the royal part, though."

The dragon put a paw to his chest. “Dragons are naturally royal. We are all monarchs in our own right, which is why my barony once called me, Malaresh the Monarch."

“Then they should have called you Baron, not Monarch." Nira paused to rub her fingers. The stiff brass buckles left her knuckles and fingertips aching. “Besides, you never had a barony."

Malaresh turned his glittering emerald eyes upon her, his frills flattened back. “Did so."

“Did not." Nira poked his foreleg. “Even for a dragon, you're far too young to have held a barony. Those were long before your time."

“I'm a thousand years old!" Malaresh hissed at her, thumping his spined tail against the deck.

“And the last barony ended over twelve hundred years ago." She flashed him a grin, just before working on the next strap. “Besides, you're three hundred, at best."

Malaresh rumbled, shaking himself. His scales clicked, his wings rustled, and all his pouches jostled about against his body. Finally, he looked away, muttering half under his breath. “I called it a barony, anyway."

“Whatever you say, Mister Magnificent." Nira stroked the scales of his chest, as if just to soothe his ego. “Where's Jirril?"

“Stopped for a piss, I think. He was drunk, when we left." The dragon snorted, flexing his wings. “Not so drunk as he couldn't fly, but drunk enough to ramble incessantly at me the entire way home. At least, till he went to piss."

Nira eased another hefty, leather bag to the ground. “What do you mean, stopped for a piss? Where the hell would he go?"

Malaresh scratched at his neck with the talon tipping an immense wing. “How the hell should I know where gryphons go to urinate? I assumed he'd just…go!"

“What, in the sky?" Nira gaped at the dragon a moment. “What if there's village or something down there?"

“Oh!" The dragon sucked in a breath. “And he pissed all over it? Yes, you're right, human, that would be hilarious!" Malaresh rumbled deep, brassy laughter. “I'm going to try that next time!"

“No!" Nira shook a finger at him, though she doubted the dragon was even paying her any heed. “You can't do that!"

“Sure you can, it's easy. It's the same as pissing on the ground, after all." He lifted a forepaw, waggling his clawed digits. “You just have to make sure the wind is right, or it gets all over you." He set his paw back down, making a point to stare out into the darkness. “Not that such a thing has ever befallen me. Or any dragon!"

Nira bit her lip, struggling to hold back laughter. “No, no, of course not." She moved down his underbelly towards another set of belts and latches. “So, what's in your biggest pouch?"

The dragon flicked his tail. “My testicles."

“Shit," Nira said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Walked right into that one, didn't I."

“You certainly did, human." Malaresh patted the largest cargo pouch under his belly with a front paw. “This is filled with all the various spare parts, tools, implements, and so on that the little fuzzy one put on his list for me. The other large satchel along my back contains vats of oils, greases, and other unpleasant things, also for the fuzzy one."

“Don't suppose you brought my wine?"

The dragon snorted, tossing his horned head again. “Oh, I'm sorry, have I allotted too much cargo space to the things required to keep this rattling death trap afloat? How selfish of me, I clearly should have contributed to your excessive alcohol indulges, instead."

“Point taken, dragon, point taken." Nira took a step back, sizing up the rest of the harness and its many remaining pouches. She roughly estimated the dragon at nearly twenty feet from nose to tail tip, and nearly all of him was covered in cargo. “I may need some help getting those last ones off you safely, as I suspect some of what Vekk asked for is quite fragile, and those larger bags are going to be far too heavy for me to lower to the deck myself. How far behind do you think Jirril is?"

Malaresh turned halfway around, forcing Nira to backpedal out of his way. “That's a good question. Let's find out."

As the dragon took a deep breath, his scaly chest expanding, Nira clapped her hands over her ears. She was just in time to save most of her hearing as the dragon unleashed an eardrum shattering roar, loud enough to drown out the many noises of the ship, and the winds swirling around it. A dragon's roar was a terrifying mixture of primal fury and threatening cry, a signal that everything that could hear it should rightly fear its caller. Though, in the right situations, a dragon's roar also served as long distance communication. Nira imagined that Malaresh's people used all sorts of different tones and timbres to their roars that human ears simply could not discern. To her, they all just sounded horrifying.

Just as Nira eased her hands away from her ears, an answering cry returned to them from the darkness. This sound was distant, and much higher in pitch, like an eagle's keening wail. Nira recognized the sound easily enough, as it was the sort of noise only a gryphon could make.

Malaresh snorted. “About that far. At least he didn't fly all the way back to The Emplacement."

Nira scowled. He'd just come from The Emplacement? She hadn't realized he'd end up there. Somehow, Nira doubted the dragon was going to appreciate being asked to go right back. “You were at The Emplacement?"

“That was our final destination, yes." The dragon gave a low, guttural growl. “They do not like me there, but I was able to secure as many of the parts from the fuzzy one's list as possible, with a maximum of threats, and a minimum of incineration." He flicked his tail, chuckling. “I suppose they like me even less there, now."

“Shit." Nira rubbed her face, gritting her teeth. “Please tell me you two didn't steal the parts you got there."

Malaresh licked his nose. “Not all of them. They didn't even shoot at us." He tilted his head. “Well, not more than a few times, anyway."

“Shit."

“You keep saying that." Malaresh tilted his head. “If you're that desperate, I suggest you head for the nearest latrine."

Nira stomped her foot. “Not literally, you scaly sack of-"

“Careful, Girl." Malaresh glared down at her, his green eyes narrowed, a dangerous edge in his voice.

Nira took a slow, deep breath. She didn't actually think the dragon would ever harm her but there was no sense pushing her luck, either. Of all the people and creatures on her ship, only Malaresh ever gave her pause, ever made her nervous. For of all her vast and varied crew, the dragon was the only one who's loyalty she never quite felt was truly unshakable.

In the olden days, her Empire secured the loyalty of dragons with positions of great power, with grand alliances, and with vast wealth. Nira had none of those things to offer Malaresh. He did, however, owe her and her crew his life. That was why he had joined her, at first, and at his own insistence, at that. But the dragon's debt to Nira was long since repaid, and why he remained now was a mystery. Nira liked to tell herself it was because he had earned not just a home here on her ship, but her crew's trust, and friendship. She also liked to tell herself they'd earned his friendship, in turn. But every once in a while, Nira wasn't so sure a dragon even truly had friendship to give. In those occasional moments, Nira felt a bit like she'd made a deal with the devil, and only the devil knew the terms.

“Sorry, Malaresh." Nira held up her hands. “I have some news you're not going to like. And…" She slowly lowered her hands, grimacing. “A favor to ask that you're going to like even less."

“Do you." The dragon's voice was flat. He slowly eased himself back onto his haunches, and began to unbuckle the remaining harness straps. That wasn't a good sign, Nira thought. Doing work he could have made a human do for him rarely boded well for his mood, or his cooperation. “So, flying missions for weeks on end, acquiring important things, and being shot at by angry humans is not favor enough?" The dragon tossed down a few smaller cargo pouches, then began to unbuckle the larger one from under his belly. “Is that why you haven't brought your usual army of servants to help unharness me? Afraid I'd get angry and knock someone over the railing?"

“The thought crossed my-"

“The favor, first." When the largest storage pack came loose, the dragon eased it down onto the deck. Once it was settled, he pushed it aside, and worked to undo the last harness straps from around his underbelly. “What is it?"

Nira took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was likely to be a very forceful 'no'. “I know you just came from The Emplacement, but-"

“No!" The dragon slapped his forepaw against the deck, snarled, then went back to freeing himself from the harness. Soon, he wriggled free of the long, narrow bag situated along his spine, letting it slide down over his tail, and out behind him. “Anything else?"

Nira pressed on, undaunted. “I need you to fly me back to The Emplacement, along with Rog and a few others. I'll need Jirril, too, and maybe Amelia and the girls. We may have a problem that needs dealing with. And we may need you to-"

Malaresh held up both forepaws, his mottled pink and gray pads exposed. “Let me stop you right there, for I have a counteroffer to propose."

The princess set her jaw. She already knew what was coming. “Is it going to be to su-"

“How about instead of flying you back to the very place I just left, where they're likely to open fire on sight…" The dragon flourished a single front paw. “I stay here instead, relax, drink a little, and then you suck my majestic cock?"

Nira sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Malaresh, why are you like this?"

“Because I'm a fucking dragon!" He unbuckled the last of the straps from around his lower body, and hind legs, then ripped them away and tossed them aside. “I am not your servant, your errand boy, or your mount! I am not here to do your bidding, and I will not bow down and kiss your royal human ass!" Malaresh tilted his head back, and spat a gout of roiling, red-orange flame into the sky. Searing heat washed over Nira, but she ground her teeth, and kept from flinching. “I ruled a barony, you know!"

“And I ruled the empire that ruled your barony!" Nira forced herself to meet the dragon's eyes, glaring up at him, unblinking. Nira was always willing to offer the dragon his due respect, but she was not about to back down.

“You ruled nothing!" The dragon hissed, all his gold-edged frills on full, spiny display around his horned head. “You're a princess, not a queen, or an empress."

Nira wasn't going to argue that point with him, she knew it would be a fruitless effort. Instead, she had a better point to make. “But I did have an empire, of which, you and all the lands you ruled were part. You, however, never had a barony, because they haven't existed since before you were hatched."

“I should rule this whole vessel!" The dragon waved his forepaw at the Cataclysm, then swatted a bag of cargo aside in frustration. It tumbled across the deck, hit the metal railing, and flipped over it, tumbling away into darkness. Malaresh watched it until it vanished, then snorted. “I…" His spines slowly flattened back down. “Meant to do that."

Nira just sighed, shaking her head. “Hope there wasn't anything important, in there."

“Think it was your wine, actually." Malaresh scratched his neck with a wing tip talon.

“So you really did bring me wine?" Nira grimaced. Just her luck.

“I did, but…" Malaresh shifted his weight, curling his tail around his paws. “Perhaps I slightly overreacted."

As soon as Nira thought she saw an opening, she seized it. She stepped forward, and set her hand upon the dragon's chest. She'd learned, over the years, that Malaresh did not mind gentle contact, and shows of affection. If anything, he seemed to find it a show of respect, or even reverence. Or, Nira thought, maybe the dragon just didn't like to admit he enjoyed being petted. Nira stroked him just were the thicker plates protecting his heart and lungs melted into smaller scales.

“I know I'm asking a lot of you. And yes, you deserve a chance to rest, and relax." When Malaresh rumbled in his chest, she added her other hand, seeking to soothe both his likely-sore body and his bruised ego. “You've done a very good job for us, and we probably wouldn't even still be flying these days, if not for you."

“No." The dragon snorted, gazing down at her, his expression more impassive than angry, now. “You would not. Now continue your petting."

Chuckling, Nira did just that. She rubbed him up to the base of his neck, then back down, scratching at the finer scales where he was more sensitive. “But we need your help again. We have a situation, and I need to go to The Emplacement. It may well be a dangerous trip, and I want my biggest, strongest, most dangerous ally there."

Malaresh slowly cocked his head. “You are ordering me to serve as your guardian?"

Nira offered him her biggest, most shining smile. She knew the dragon would see right through it, but that wasn't the point. Malaresh had a longing for the way things were in the olden days, long before the advent of airships. Back when a single dragon was considered force enough to change the course of a war, or even a nation. When they were afforded the respect due to such a powerful creature.

“Ordering? Of course not. You're a dragon, and I, a mere human." She ran her hands up the base of his neck again, and when Malaresh lowered his head for her, she gently took his muzzle between her hands, stroking his jawline. “I would never presume to order such a powerful being. I would, however, humbly request such protection from you, in keeping with the alliance your barony shares with my empire. I am in danger, and in need of a powerful dragon to keep my safe."

Malaresh pushed his muzzle into her hands, his throaty purr rising, sounding like stones tumbling around in a barrel. “You're laying it on a little too thick now, Human, but your efforts at flattery are appreciated, nonetheless."

“Tell you what," Nira said, moving one hand to rub the soft spot between the dragon's nostrils. “You do this for me, and if there's trouble, I'll let you burn something. Something big."

“How big?" The dragon cocked his head, his eyes fixed upon her.

“Oh, at least a large table."

Malaresh snorted. “Not big enough. I can burn something that small any time I wish."

“Alright, alright." Nira held her hands up. “How about…a small outbuilding?"

The dragon tilted his head in the other direction. “Medium sized outbuilding, at the least."

“That sounds fair." Nira patted his muzzle, her smile twisting into a scowl. “Hell, depending on how things go, you may get to burn down an entire tavern."

Malaresh rumbled his approval. “Now you are sweetening the deal. Very well, I shall consider it, and have an offer for you by the morning. So tell me, then." The dragon pulled his head back from her hands, curling his neck into an S shape. “Why do you wish to venture to this place, and why do you believe you will be in danger there?"

Nira folded her arms, offering him an easy smile. “Because some cranky dragon and his feathered concubine just stole a bunch of their merchandise."

“What hilarious wit you possess." Malaresh gestured with the tip of his spiky tail, swirling it in the air. “Why, you could make a fine living, telling your jests and japes and sarcastic observations in taverns in exchange for cheers, and alms!"

Nira blinked, unfolding her arms to rub the back of her neck. “Jests and Japes? Alms? Gods, maybe you are old enough to have held a barony."

The dragon only grunted, flicking his tail against the deck. “Anyway, Jirril is not my concubine."

“Oh no?" Nira quirked a brow, grinning. “I think the whole ship knows you and him-"

“Concubine implies servitude," Malaresh said, licking his muzzle. “Jirril is my companion, not my servant. Nonetheless, you have evaded the question." He sharpened his tongue, adding a low, menacing snarl. “Who is endangering you? I will rend their limbs from their bodies, and incinerate what remains."

“It's not that simple, unfortunately." Nira rubbed her forehead, wishing there was an easy way to explain all she'd learned. “It seems that the Union may be changing tactics. They may be looking to try and capture me, or even undertake an attempt on my life. Kasis thinks we should ask our contacts at The Emplacement what they know. It's also possible there may be even be Golden Union agents there, and-"

“There are." Malaresh snapped his jaws. “Who do you think we stole those airship parts from?"

“Wait, what?" Nira slowly turned towards the largest of the cargo bags now littering the deck. “I thought you said you stole those from The Emplacement?"

“I did." The dragon growled guttural laughter. “There were several small Golden Union vessels docked there for repairs and resupply. I made the workers take the parts the little horned rat wanted out of the Union ships." He flexed his wings in a shrug. “Really, who did you think was shooting at me?"

Nira started to laugh, she should have expected something like that from Malaresh by now. The dragon did so enjoy his little games and manipulations. But her laughter died as quickly as it began, when she realized the true meaning of something else he'd said, too. “You said someone would open fire on sight if you returned…You mean the Union, didn't you. They're still there, aren't they?"

“I would assume so, yes." Malaresh sat up a little straighter, a fang-filled smile parting his tapered muzzle. “Probably waiting on back up to arrive, considering that Jirril and I inflicted quite a bit of damage on their airships." He hissed through his sharp teeth. “They're lucky they were docked at a neutral location. Otherwise I'd have burned them all down, and the docking structures with them. I can only assume they must have paid Prav's people a hefty sum to use his facilities and his mechanics. Probably charging them triple for work and supplies, as well. Otherwise I doubt he'd be willing to service the Union."

Nira scowled, pacing back and forth before the dragon. “Maybe. It sounds like the Union is working on expansion, making treaties with our old neighbors, and so on. If they're looking to expand into the Sundered Lands, Prav might be trying to make nice. I know they've got spies and scouts in the area, I'm sure they've got at least a small fleet of ships, as well. What kind of vessels where they?"

“Scouting vessels, mostly, recon. Armed, but not heavily so. Think they were Sparrow-Swifts." The dragon lifted a forepaw, half-unsheathing his retractable claws. “But I did not bother to read their markings." Malaresh inspected his claws. “You said you had news I would not like, yet you have not yet broken it to me. Dare I ask how you know they're attempting expansion through treaties? You said you know they have spies in the area…might I venture to guess you've caught one?"

Nira watched the dragon closely, wondering just how much he knew. If there were Union agents at the Emplacement while he was there with Jirril, they could have overheard them discussing their operations. Or, they might have had another snow gryphon there with them. Perhaps the dragon had just taken an educated guess…or maybe she was reading too much into things.

“We did, yes."

“Was it by chance a white gryphon?"

The princess tensed up. Lissir had filled her in on the history between the Golden Union's snow gryphons and the empire's dragons, and she wasn't sure how Malaresh was going to take this. “It is, yes."

Malaresh slowly, deliberate, set his paw back down. His claws remained unsheathed. Nira knew well enough that among dragons, that was not a friendly gesture. “And have you killed him, yet?"

“Of course not, Malaresh." She held her hands up. “Listen, you need to understand-"

“Good!" The dragon pushed himself up to all fours, shaking out his great body, scales clicking. “That means I still get to beat the shit out of him. And when I'm done, I'm going to break his wings and toss him overboard."

*****

Chapter Eleven

*****

Nira put her hands against the dragon's chest. While she knew she couldn't even slow him down, she hoped the symbolism would at least give him pause. “You know I can't let you kill him once we've accepted his surrender."

Malaresh slowly turned his head down to glare at her hands upon his scales. “Do you know how much dragon blood stains his paws?"

“His paws?" Nira kept her hands against the dragon, meeting his glare with her own steely resolve. “His people? Yes, Lissir filled me in. But his paws, personally? I've no idea. Maybe a lot. Maybe none! Hell, most of that was probably before his time! It's all on the Union, anyway, the snow gryphons are practically their slaves, as Lissir tells it. And all that cruelty, the brainwashing, the bloodshed, that's what he's trying to escape. He's defecting, Malaresh. He's defecting to The Cataclsym."

“No." The dragon snarled, leaning forward just enough to push Nira back a few paces, her boots sliding across the deck. “He isn't. He's manipulating you, feigning defection to enter into your good graces, as part of whatever mission they've sent him here on."

Nira grimaced and set her jaw. As much as she hated to admit it, she'd considered the exact same thing. “I don't think so. It's possible, I'll admit, but Lissir and I think he's telling the truth. Whatever the case, I can't let you take his life."

Malaresh heaved a great, deflated sigh. “Then I shall simply have to beat a confession out of him."

“No, Malaresh." Nira slowly lowered her hands, convinced the dragon wasn't going to bowl her over. “I understand how you feel, but-"

“Can I at least castrate him?" The dragon dropped back onto his haunches with a long, frustrated growl.

“No, you can't." Nira shook her head, chuckling under her breath. “Besides, I think Amelia already has first dibs on that, if it comes to it."

The dragon curled his tail around his paws again, licking his nose. “Smart girl. I like that one." He took a deep breath, then let it out in a another slow sigh. “Very well. I shall endeavor not to tear his throat out just yet. What has the lying spy-bird told you?"

“That the Union is reconsidering our unspoken truce, and might be looking to take me out, one way or another. Apparently they think I'm threat, for some reason." Nira turned away from the dragon to lean up against the rail. “Which…if they push me into a corner, I sure as shit will be. But I've been going out of me way to avoid being a threat to them, until now. And they know that, so…" She slapped the cold railing, grinding her teeth. “Something must have changed."

“Maybe they've just decided this flying city-destroyer is too dangerous to leave alone." The dragon scratched noisily at the deck behind her. Even without looking back, Nira knew his claws were leaving ruts. “Or perhaps they wish it for themselves."

“That thought crossed my mind, too." Nira drummed her fingers on the tarnished brass. “That's why Kasis thinks we should go to The Emplacement. It's the easiest place for us to reach, where we might be able to find someone with answers. If we don't get answers there, we can keep looking. But Alakor…" She glanced back at the dragon. “The snow gryphon. He also suggested they may come looking for him, and unless we want to have to engage some Union ships, and really give them a reason to start hunting us, we should move on. Possibly via the Broken Teeth." Nira held a hand up to silence the reply she knew was coming. “And yes, before you suggest it, I'm well aware there's a small chance Alakor is trying to lead us into a trap."

“I wasn't going to say that." Malaresh thumped his tail against the deck. “I was going to say it's likely."

“I understand your concerns, and I appreciate them." Nira turned back around towards the dragon. “We'll be keeping a close eye on him."

“If he betrays you, I will kill him." Malaresh slowly arched his neck, hissing. “And then I will remind you that I was right about him for the rest of your existence." He glared at her a moment, then waved his paw. “Now, move aside."

Nira put her hands on her hips. “Don't you start telling me what to do, Dragon!"

Malaresh only shrugged his wings, backing away. He grasped the largest cargo bag, and dragged it back with him. “Suit yourself."

“What are you-Shit!" Nira scrambled away when she realized what the dragon was doing.

An instant later, and a male gryphon with vibrant blue feathers hurtled up out of the darkness, and into the flood lights. He streaked across through the flight deck, whipping through the area where Nira had been only moments before. Pouches and cargo bags jostled around his feathery body. Halfway across the deck, he touched down on all four paws. The gryphon galloped across the deck, bleeding off speed, then spun back around towards her at the other end. He flared his azure and ebony wings, then gave a sharp, keening cry.

“You've got to be more careful, Princess!" The gryphon trotted towards her. “Could have taken your damn head off!"

“I tried to warn her," Malaresh said, settling back onto his haunches again. “But she wouldn't listen."

Nira groaned, running a hand down her face. “Hello, Jirril."

“Hello, your would-be killer, more like!" The gryphon deftly worked the silver buckles of his own cargo harness, dropping bits and pieces of gear all across the deck. “You really need to pay for more attention to your surroundings. If I was an enemy, you'd be dead right now."

Nira scowled at the mess Jirril left behind him, normally there'd be workers here to collect everything behind him. At least he didn't expect her crew to do everything for him the way the dragon did. “As much as I appreciate your training attempts, I really don't think I need you divebombing me every chance you get."

“Are you sure?" Malaresh lifted his frills in amusement. “He could have ripped your head clean off."

“So I hear." Nira pivoted on her heel towards the gryphon. “From Jirril." She glared at the gryphon. “Every time he does that."

Jirril was the third gryphon in her crew, and until Alakor's capture, the only male of his species currently aboard. He was also far and away the most colorful of all her crew. Vibrant indigo feathers covered much of his body, from his vaguely hawk-like head down across his back, and wings, and all the way to his feather-lined tail. Black flight feathers tipped his blue wings, with a saddle-like swath of dark gray across his upper back and shoulders. The feathers that shrouded his upper body gave way to thick, silken pale-gay fur along his underside and limbs. He was larger than the two females aboard, though not as immense a gryphon as Alakor.

By the time Jirril reached her, he'd already divested himself of all his cargo, with only the basic harness still strapped around his body. He strolled right up to Nira, lifting a forepaw to cup her cheek. Large as he was, his warm pads nearly encompassed her whole head. She was thankful the gryphon at least kept his claws sheathed. Both gryphons and dragons had fully retractable claws, as well as opposable thumb digits on their front paws. Though they walked on their front feet, they also served quite capable as dexterous hands.

“Hello, my darling Princess." Jirril offered a warbling coo while he cupped her face.

Nira laughed and ducked away from his grip, shoving his paw aside. “Quit doin' that. I dunno where those paws have been." She glanced at the dragon, smirking. “Especially after Malaresh said you had to stop for a piss."

“Did he, then?" Jirril turned away from her, the soft blue feathers of his tail sweeping across the Princess' body.

“Yes." Nira folded her arms, watching the gryphon closely for signs of intoxication. “He also said you were nearly too drunk to fly. Which, I shouldn't have to tell you, is a very bad idea when approaching airships."

“Well, he's right about part of it." Jirril strolled up to the dragon, then nuzzled at Malaresh's belly before turning and brushing his entire body up against the dragon like an oversized cat. “Which part, I shall leave to your imagination."

Nira ran a hand back through her hair, sighing. “Well, at least you don't smell like you've pissed you're feathers."

“Of course I haven't! What a horrible thing to suggest to a gryphon. We're cleaner than you are, human." Jirril tossed his head, then flopped down onto his belly, leaning up against the dragon's front legs. He tilted his head back, gazing up at Malaresh. “Well?"

The dragon stared back at him. “Well, what?"

The gryphon made a loud, warbling noise, flicking his feathered tail against Malaresh. “Well, pet me of course."

“Toss you overboard, more like." Despite the dragon's gruff sarcasm, he nonetheless lifted a forepaw, and began to knead and rub at the back of the gryphon's neck.

Jirril tilted his head back into the attention, his eyes drifting shut. One of the gryphon's hind paws twitched a few times, and he let out a happy sigh. “Oooooh, yes, that's the spot."

The Princess arched a brow, grinning. “Should I leave you two alone for a while?"

“No," Jirril said, his eyes still closed. “You should pet me, too."

Nira chuckled, walking over to the two of them. “Oh, very well."

“Just mind where you step!" The gryphon tucked his forepaws in. “Don't want you to accidentally trod upon me with your clumsy human feet."

“One time," Nira said, setting her hands atop the gryphon's head. “One time I accidentally stepped on your paw, in the dark, when you were passed out drunk in the hall." She rubbed the gryphon's pointed, blue ears, while the dragon caressed his neck and shoulders. “That was hardly my fault, and I was very apologetic."

“Yes, you were," Jirril said, opening his eyes to dark slits. Given all the attention, a raspy purr was creeping into his voice. “After you stopped laughing at me."

“Just be glad I didn't step on your gryphon plums, or I'd have laughed a whole lot harder." Nira worked a hand down over the gryphon's cheek, gently working her fingers through the fine, silken feathers there. Beneath them, the gryphon's skin was quite warm.

“Would have made a funnier story, too." Malaresh thumped his tail against the deck, spines scratching at the wood.

Jirril clicked his beak, bumping his head against the dragon's chest. “You're one to talk. I ought to tell the Princess about the time-"

Malaresh seized the scruff of the gryphon's neck, snarling. “I will pluck you bald, Bird, if you so much as breathe a word of that."

“I'll tell her in private then!" The gryphon twisted a little, squawking. “Besides, if you plucked me, you'd miss gazing upon my glorious plumage!"

With a snort, the dragon released him. “Suppose you'd make a less satisfying pillow, that way." Malaresh lowered his head, his neck curled, and gave the gryphon's neck a few licks, smoothing mussed feathers. He glanced at Nira over the gryphon's head. “Anything embarrassing he tells you about me is clearly a lie, anyway."

“Clearly." The princess reached up and patted Malaresh's jaw, then shot the gryphon a sly look. “Though I would like to hear it later, just the same."

“And so you shall!" Jirril clacked his beak. “Now, resume your petting."

The dragon snarled, a low, menacing sound, even as he continued to groom the back of the gryphon's neck with his tongue, and his forepaws. “Careful, bird, I know where you live."

Nira laughed, moving her hands to gently caress Jirril's throat. “You say that as if you don't sleep snuggled around him half the time."

Malaresh gave a displeased grunt, pausing his affections for a moment. “Dragons do not snuggle. He is soft, warm, and comfortable. Nothing more."

“Right, right, of course." Nira stroked down the sides of the gryphon's neck. “Dragons don't have friends or loved ones, only servants and worshipers, right?"

“Correct." Malaresh settled a paw between the gryphon's wings, gently kneading flight muscles Nira imagined were quite sore. “However, we are not above rewarding our favored servants from time to time."

Nira only smiled, continuing her own affections. While the female gryphons aboard also enjoyed being petted from time to time, Jirril was more like a big damn cat. Not only did he demand it, but he often did so at the most inopportune times. Or in the middle of a meal. Or a conversation. Or whenever else he felt as if everyone should be paying far more attention to the blue gryphon.

There was a time when Nira was surprised Jirril was even able to convince the dragon to pet him like every one else did, but that time was long since gone. If anything, Malaresh was the quickest of all to attend the gryphon's need for physical affection. And once Jirril started spending as many nights in the dragon's so-called lair as his own sleeping chambers, the reason was increasingly clear. Come to think of it, Nira thought, perhaps Malaresh had something meaningful binding him to her ship and its crew, after all.

Then again, with dragons and gryphons it was sometimes hard to parse a casual fling between friends from deeper relationships. Hell, it was hard determining that between humans, let alone the rest of their world's sapient species and their myriad moral and social codes. If Malaresh was anything to go by, then dragons would happily mate with anything that moved, and probably a few things that didn't. Gryphons were often the same, frequently attracted to either gender, and often to other sapient species, as well. She knew they were lovers, but whether their hearts, too, were intertwined, Nira was less sure. Then again, such things were none of her business, anyway.

Still, she found herself hoping sometimes, just the same. She tilted her head back, smiling up at the dragon. If her ship and its monstrous crew could help even a bitter old dragon filled with fury discover love with a gryphon with a drinking problem, then that meant something. What it meant, she wasn't exactly sure. If nothing else, love amongst so-called monsters meant the Golden Union hadn't wiped out everything good about the Empire just yet.

“Why are you smiling at me that way?" Malaresh tilted his head. “You look as though you're hoping I'll ask if you want to be fucked, later."

Nira ground her teeth, though she soon let out an incredulous laugh. As much as she wanted to be angry at him for ruining the moment, it wasn't as if Malaresh could read her mind. At least, she sure as hell hoped he couldn't. She'd heard such rumors about dragons before, but to Nira's knowledge, that was all bullshit anyway. Regardless, Nira had long since stopped being surprised by the sort of things that tumbled out of the maw of the black-scaled marauder.

The princess patted the gryphon's head, backing away from the two of them. “Wouldn't want to make your bird jealous."

“Jealous?" Jirril warbled laughter. “I'd join in!"

“Tempting an offer as that is," Nira said, holding up her hands. “I think I'll pass."

Malaresh lowered his head, his muzzle brushing Jirril's ear. “She speaks of jealousy, but I suspect her gnoll would be the jealous one."

The gryphon chirped, untucking a forepaw to playfully swat Malaresh. “Or Amelia!"

Nira blinked and slowly folded her arms. “Wait, who's Amelia going to be jealous of?"

“Well, you know." Jirril waggled his pale gray fingers. “You and her are the only two humans on board. Haven't you ever…?"

Nira shrugged as nonchalantly as she could, offering only an innocent smile. “Maybe. Course, I also hear Amelia knows things about him." She inclined her head towards the dragon.

“Your point?" Malaresh lifted his head again, cocking it slightly.

“Just curious." She rubbed her cheek. “So…does she?" She turned her attention to the gryphon, thinking he might be more forthcoming. “Know things?"

“She-mmph!" Jirril's words trailed off into a muffled grunt when the dragon grasped his beak and held it shut.

Malaresh arched his neck. “Maybe she does, maybe she doesn't. You'll have to ask her that."

“I did, and she said it has spines on it." Nira kept her tone as even as possible, just trying to get a reaction out of the dragon, one or another.

Malaresh met her stoicism with his own. He stared down at her without releasing the gryphon's beak. “No, she didn't."

“That's not a no," Nira said, struggling to fight back a bawdy laugh.

“If you're that curious, you're welcome to ask me for a demonstration." Malaresh gazed down at her, still aside from his breathing, and an occasional blink.

Nira finally held her hands up, giving into her giggles. “Alright, alright. You win. I'm not drunk enough to keep this up any longer." She moved forward and tapped one of the dragon's fingers where it encircled Jirril's dark beak. “Let him up, so he can tell me what he brought back."

“Very well." Malaresh gave Jirril's ear a gentle lick before releasing him. “But don't spoil the game, bird."

Jirril pushed himself to his paws as soon as the dragon released him. He shook himself, fluffing up, then strode several paces away. “Petting time is over!" He flopped down onto his haunches, and set to irritably preening his wings instead.

“What a shame." The dragon picked up a loose feather from near his paws, and flicked it at the gryphon. “Don't forget to tell the bird about the damn snow gryphon."

Jirril jerked his head up, another feather hanging from his beak. “What snow gryphon?"

Nira cringed inwardly. She'd hoped to ease into that, unsure how Jirril would react. She turned towards him, fiddling with the buttons of her coat. “We have a guest."

“A prisoner," Malaresh said, slapping a paw against the deck. “A snow gryphon that's been spying on us! And the girl won't even let me kill him."

“He's defecting," Nira said, quickly adding, “Or at least he claims to be."

“I wouldn't believe him for an instant." Jirril turned his attention to his other wing, rearranging his feathers. “They're brainwashed, you know. From birth. Taught they're just…" He snorted, pinning his ears. “Beasts, made to serve the Union and their god. Convinced that's all they're good for, all they exist for. They believe it, because they don't know any better. If he's genuine about defecting, then he's somehow seen through their lies were so few others do. It's far more likely he was sent here to feign a defection and infiltrate our crew."

Nira adjusted her black leather coat sleeve. “So I've heard. Look, Jirril, I appreciate your concern, and Malaresh?" She turned towards the dragon, softening her tone. “I understand how you feel. We've all lose people to the Union, and their servants. But we owe him the benefit of the doubt, just in case it's true. What good does it do us to speak of them as monsters, if we deny one of their own a chance to escape from that? I've already ordered him to be kept under tight supervision, and I assure you, we'll be scrutinizing everything he says, and does. But if he is telling the truth?" Nira pointed at the flight deck doors. “Then he's just like everyone else inside this ship. He's a refugee, fleeing the Union. We owe him a chance, at least."

Malaresh glowered at her, but did not argue. “Very well." Slowly, the dragon pushed himself to his feet, rising to his full, impressive height. “But if you expect me to agree to this, then I expect to be allowed to interrogate him myself. Immediately."

Nira set her jaw. “I don't think that's a very good idea."

“And I don't care!" Malaresh started towards the doors, padding around her. “I will not even consider flying you and your companions to The Emplacement until I've had a chance to knock around this snowy shit-feather and ask him a few questions."

“Wait, what's this about going back to The Emplacement?" Jirril jumped to his feet, hissing. “We just left that damn place!"

“The Princess believes she's in danger from the Union, and that's why they have gryphons spying on her." Malaresh came to a stop just in front of the flight deck entryway. “She also believes they may have ships headed this way, quite possibly those we stole parts from. It's likely Union agents there would know why they'd suddenly after Nira again." The dragon flicked his spined tail at the princess. “Does that about sum it up?"

Nira grabbed at his tail spines, clutching them in vain attempt to hold him back. “It does, yes, but he's only just arrived, he's barely even settled in yet. I don't want you doing any interrogation that involves 'knocking him around', is that understood?"

Malaresh grasped the handle and pushed the door open. Nira had a small army of servants waiting back there to come and gather up all the supplies and help the boys out of their harnesses. But when Malaresh snapped his jaws at them, everyone scrambled back. Nira dug her heels in, but when the dragon walked into the expansive hallway, he dragged her with him as if she wasn't even there.

“I don't care what you want, Princess. Nor do I know what you think you're going to accomplish back there." He glanced back at her over his folded wings. “Are you going to tell me where he is, or am I going to have to drag you along until I find him myself?"

Nira finally released his tail, sighing. “Alright, alright. I'll take you to him." She hurried around the dragon to stand in his way, signaling for her workers to go and collect all the cargo. “But only if you promise not to harm him."

Malaresh tilted his head. “No. If I believe he's lying to us, I'm going to beat the truth out of him." He splayed his ears, relenting slightly. “But I will try to avoid doing him any lasting injuries."

Jirril trotted into the hallway, glancing at Nira as he brushed past the dragon. “I'd take it, if I was you. That's the best deal you're going to get from him."

Though Nira hated to admit it, she knew the gryphon was right.

*****

Chapter Twelve

******

Malaresh stormed down the wide, wooden corridor, his unsheathed claw tips clicking and scratching at the wood. Whenever he returned from a lengthy mission, it always took him a little while to grew accustom to the ship again. From the scents of things burning that shouldn't burn, to the constant rattle and clank and mechanical whirr, to the way the faint vibrations left his paw pads tingling. He noticed them all anew each time he returned, just as he noticed the myriad strange, copper pipes crawling over everything, the odd dials and gauges indicating pressures and altitudes and so on. It was also impossible for Malaresh to miss the fact that he had no trouble at all walking the spacious hallways of the lower decks and cargo hold areas. He had to duck his head and tighten his wings here and there, but so long as he did not stray into the upper reaches, even a dragon had room to wander the ship.

Though the world held many airships, few were built large enough to comfortably house a dragon, much less allow him to walk its depths. The Cataclysm was truly a magnificent vessel, that should have belonged to an equally magnificent lord. It should have been his, the dragon thought. It still irked him that it wasn't, like some sharp bit of bone in someone he'd swallowed, stuck in his throat, ever poking him. At least he had always been able to take consolation, however small, in the fact that Nira had proven herself a fit ruler.

Until she let a damn snow gryphon on board.

In fairness, the dragon doubted Nira knew a damn thing about the snow gryphons, or what they'd done to his people, starting in the early days of the war. They'd come like a white feathered swarm, for each of the great Dragon Lords who once ruled over the Empire's far-flung provinces.

The Dragon Lords kept the people in line, enforced the Empire's laws, but kept their lands safe, as well. The first few to fall were slain before the war was even raging in full, when the Union sought to remove the Empire's most dangerous weapons before their initial invasion. From there, it had only cascaded. At first, gryphons killed the dragons themselves, before anyone realized the army of strange, foreign gryphon was in truth, reared and commanded by the Golden Union. Once the rest of the dragons and their lands began preparing for war, and after the Dragon Lords in turn inflicted heavy losses upon the gryphons, then the Union sent their aerial gunships to aid them. Those that survived retreated, driven further and further away. After the war, there were few safe lands left for great dragons to make their own, let alone to claim for themselves in the way of their ancestors.

All of that was long before the Princess's time. And though the war was already raging while she grew up, Malaresh doubted her parents told her anything about it until she was old enough to figure it out on their own. Such coddling was typical of humans. Dragons would have told their young about the horror spreading across the land, and let that knowledge harden them in preparation for it. Malaresh had lived with such knowledge himself for longer than Nira had drawn breath.

Memories brought fresh fury bubbling up in the dragon's heart. It flooded his blood, seared his breaths. Malaresh's heart thrashed at his sternum, an angry beast desperate to be unleashed from its cage. His pulse echoed in his wings, and down his tail, regulated in a few places by chambers the dragons called their minor-hearts. His anger also left his fire glands tingling and swollen. Bitter fire-bile dribbled into the back of his throat. He forced himself to swallow it down, wishing he could just burn all the white-feathers off the gryphon's body.

According to the girl, the alabaster shit-pigeon was in the lower decks' common area. It served as a central place to eat, and drink, to relax and socialize. Though the ship had many such gathering places, the one located near the cargo holds was built to accommodate creatures as large as dragons. It was where the gryphons often went when they were not on duty. Sometimes, Malaresh even joined them. Though Malaresh did not always consider basic socialization to be within the nature of a great dragon such as himself, he was not averse to the benefits of companionship. If he wasn't going to be worshiped by the Princess's servants, he could at least be petted and flattered.

Now, though, flattery was about the last thing the dragon wanted. As he approached the large, blue and gold-painted doors leading into the commons, he lashed his tail, snarling. That white-feathered-“

“Hey!" Nira punched the side of his tail, glaring at him. “Watch your damn tail, you nearly bowled me over!"

Malaresh grunted, half-bowing his horned head in a show of apologetic respect. Though as far as he was concerned, a dragon could knock over whoever the damn hell they wanted, he had to admit, 'Princess' still outranked 'dragon'. He might not consider himself to take orders from her, but he did consider her worthy of his respect. Besides, this ship might be the only place left in all the world where the old power structures of empires, and princesses, and dragons remained. That gave him cause to honor her wishes on principal alone, at least, more often than not.

Most of her wishes, anyway. Malaresh wasn't yet certain he wouldn't kill this filthy snow-bird eventually.

The dragon grasped the oversized handles, pushed them down till the mechanisms clicked, and then threw the doors open. The room beyond was filled with a half dozen round tables, sized and designed for gryphons and even dragons, rather than bipeds. They were large, and sturdy, with stone tops rather than wood to better stand up to claws, and anger. Most had gryphon-style cushioned loungers instead of chairs, though a few biped chairs were available, as well.

The room had a variety of amusements available, mostly of human and other biped design, and often upscaled to suit the ship's largest inhabitants. There were all sorts of game boards, along with things like darts to throw and balls to toss around, and even an area set aside for wrestling and play fights. Shelves along one wall also held leather-bound books large and sturdy enough to be easily handled by dragons and gryphons, as well.

At the far end of the room was a galley, complete with stored and preserved foods, a collection of wines, spirits, meads and other drinks, and a kitchen. Many were the times Malaresh had summoned some smaller biped to go into the kitchen and prepare something for himself and Jirril, or just to bring drinks out for the gryphons to share with him. Truthfully, this galley in particular was large enough for him to fit inside, but he feared he'd never quite lived down the time he went for wine and accidentally toppled the shelf, sending wine and shattered glass everywhere.

Near that galley, white feathers drew his attention. The snow-gryphon sat on his haunches, alongside a table, surrounded by the ship's two female gryphons, and Amelia, the only other human aboard the ship. A dozen gnolls and va'chaak stood watch nearby, all with guard uniforms and rifles slung across their backs. Warbling gryphon laughter emanated from the table. Malaresh took a slow, deep breath, and then strode into the room, all coiled power and anger. He squeezed his fire glands, spitting just enough flame to let it flicker and dance beyond the edges of his teeth. Heat washed over his nose.

“Oh, fuck me," said the snow gryphon, using the common human tongue, albeit with an odd accent. He swallowed, pointing his beak towards the door. “It's your dragon."

Malaresh sneered at the very idea of being their dragon. But rather than address the insult directly, he turned his gaze to the squad of suddenly very uncertain looking guards. “Get out. Now."

Nira ran up in front of him, holding her hands up as if to bar his war. “Remember your promise." She glanced over her shoulder at the guards, waving them off towards the door. “Wait outside."

Malaresh lowered his head towards her, a low rumbling creeping into his voice. “Wise choice. We both know they could not stop me, even if they wished it. And I remember my promise, Girl, I assure you."

“Hey there, big guy." Amelia rose up from her chair, picking up her favorite black rifle and slinging it over her shoulder as she approached the dragon. She stood alongside Nira, offering the dragon a nervous smile. “You, uh, here to fight, drink, or do what Snowballs just said? I can let you do the last couple things, but…"

The dragon glared down at her. Normally, he appreciated Amelia's sense of humor. She and Nira were so unlike the many other stuffy, prudish humans he'd dealt with, earlier in his life. Now, though, he was not in the mood for jests. “Move aside, Amelia."

Amelia fidgeted with her rifle strap, but neither she nor Nira moved out of his way. “Look, Mal, I know what you want, and I don't blame you at all. But he's been real good so far, hasn't caused any trouble, and-"

“Move." This time, when Malaresh spoke, it was no longer a request. “Aside."

Amelia swallowed, gently brushing her hand against Nira's in silent question. Nira nodded once, and the two of them vacated his path. “Just play nice, alright?"

Malaresh ignored her request. He liked Amelia, liked her a lot, in fact. But if he wasn't going to take orders from the Princess, he damn sure wasn't going to take them from her subordinate. He quickly strode towards the table where the three gryphons were, but as soon as he neared it, Lissir and Sivik rose up out of their loungers. As one, they rounded the table, stretching their wings to bar him from reaching Alakor.

“Hey, Dragon," Lissir said, her stance already low and defensive, her muscles tense. “I gotta ask what your intentions are, before I let you get any closer."

Sivik spoke up immediately after her sister. “Snowballs here is under our supervision, which, as much as I hate it, also means we gotta keep him safe, as long as he's-"

“You think this Union spy deserves safety?" Malaresh snarled, dragging his claws against the floor, carving long ruts in the wood.

Lissir held up a single forepaw, shifting herself slightly as if to emphasize the gray feathers of her her open, spread wings. “Until he's proven otherwise? Yes."

Malaresh could not tell if they were simply using their wings to shield the gryphon from his sight, or to try and make themselves look bigger to dissuade him from challenging them. Either way, he took their lead and threw his own wings out, snapping them out to their full extension in an instant. He already significantly outsized the average female gryphon of their species, but with his wings spread he positively dwarfed them. They glanced at each other, one swallowed, the other clicked her beak, but neither backed down.

“Please, gryphons." Despite the slightly threatening nature of his display, Malaresh bowed his head to them, offering respect. “I like you two. So please don't make me move you."

Somewhere nearby, Nira, Amelia, and Jirril were all calling for the three of them to back down. But Malaresh had already stopped paying much attention to those three. Given the reaction of the female gryphons, so had they.

Sivik and Lissir both returned his bow, but when Sivik lifted her head, a dangerous sort of mischief glimmered in her eye. “You're welcome to try, Dragon."

“Very well." Malaresh lifted his head again. He raised up a forepaw, and retracted his claws, making sure they could see it. Then did the same with his other paws, as well. He had no desire to harm the two females, but he would toss them aside if that was what it took. “Remember, though. I asked nicely."

“Stop!" The snow gryphon's voice rang out behind the females. “Let him through. There's no need for you two lovely females to fight with your friend. If that's what the dragon's here for, I may as well just give him what he wants."

Again, the female gryphons gave each other a wary look. But when Nira voiced her consent for them to move aside, they parted from Malaresh's way. The dragon bowed his head to them once more. “Wise decision, gryphons."

“Just keep your damn claws sheathed, will you?" Lissir snapped her wings shut, bumping up against the dragon as she moved past him. “No matter what happens."

“Yes, Malaresh!" The Princess moved closer to him again, with Nira at her heels. Malaresh wondered where Rog was. The gnoll must be otherwise occupied, or already asleep somewhere, to not be at Nira's side at a time like this. That was fine with the dragon. That damn fool gnoll was going to get himself killed someday, trying to enforce Nira's ever uttered word. Nira held her hands up for his attention. “Remember, you were only going to talk to him first, and-"

“He's not here to talk, Princess." Beyond her, the snow gryphon slowly rose up to his feet. “You should just get out of the way."

“Shit," Nira said, balling up her fists. She thumped one of them against the dragon's foreleg, but the impact barely registered. “Just don't break anything, you hear me?"

“Your furniture is replaceable." The dragon snorted, his wings still stretched.

“I meant bones!" Nira turned away, shooing them rest out of the way. “Move back to the doors, this is happening whether we like it or not!"

Everyone did as the Princess requested, though Amelia and Jirril were the last to leave. Amelia trailed her fingers across the scales of his tail, and when he turned his head to look back at her, she shook a single finger at him. “You do what you gotta do, but remember. He's a guest. The Princess gave him temporary asylum. So no injuries. Got it?"

Before Malaresh could reply, Jirril brushed up all along the dragon's body. “I concur with our occasional rider. If the Princess has offered him asylum, you keep your damn claws sheathed like the females said! And don't damage anything that could be put to better use petting me!" He slapped his tail up against the dragon's haunch. “In fact, don't break anything, period. Yours, or his!"

“I'll do my best." Malaresh offered Jirril and the others a begrudging nod. For now, anyway, he'd try to wring a few answers out of the gryphon without leaving more than bruises. “Till he crosses us."

“I won't cross you, Dragon. That isn't why I'm here."

Malaresh snapped his head back around, snarling at the snow gryphon. For a few long, silent moments, they sized each other up from across the expansive room. The spy bird now stood at his full, impressive height, his own ebon-edged wings spread at his sides. He had to admit, the snow gryphon was big, perhaps even the largest such creature Malaresh had ever seen. The dragon still outsized him, but the by a noticeably smaller margin than the others. Powerful muscles stood at taut attention beneath fur and feathers. The gryphon's tail, also edged in black, lashed the air in agitation. His beak hung half-open, tongue visibly moving with the gryphon's panting breaths. He was nervous, as he Malaresh thought he damn well should be. But though the toes of all four paws were splayed, gripping at the floor as if ready to pounce, his claws remained sheathed.

Scars marked his hide, visible only by the way they disturbed the lay of pelt and plumage. Well-hidden as they were, it was hard to what caused them. Some were likely bullets, and shot pellets, others were less familiar. Whippings and beatings from his masters, perhaps. Malaresh doubted the princess had even noticed them. The gryphons might have, but it was hard to say. Dragons had especially keen senses. Malaresh himself had always been good at picking out small details like that when taking the measure of friend and foe alike.

“Well, Dragon?" The gryphon cocked his head, hiding his nervousness behind an sly smile, and a carefully constructed wall of crude charm and bravado. “I know you're not here to talk, so have you come to fight me, or fuck me? I'm open to either idea, but if it's the latter could I at least get your name, first?"

The bird had spirit, Malaresh had to give him that. “I am called Malaresh the Magnificent, and no, Bird, I have not come to fuck you."

“Well…" The white gryphon clicked his beak, shaking himself. He slowly folded his wings back. “There goes my back up plan. Though I suppose given your size, if we're about to fight then I'm fucked either way."

“Yes, Bird…" A smile crossed Malaresh's muzzle. His fire glands tingled, desperate to unleash their flames on his foe. Bitter fire bile dribbled against the back of his tongue. “You are. We're going to have our fun, and then you're going to tell me why you're really here. And if you lie to me, things are going to get much, much worse for you." Malaresh unsheated a single claw, and used it to cut a long line in the wooden floor. When the gryphon gulped, he retracted it again. “But since you're facing your fate with courage, I'll allow you to speak your name before we begin."

“How gracious of you." The gryphon dipped his head in quick bow. “I'm Alakor." He glanced at the dragon's paws. “Claws in?"

“For now."

“As you wish." The gryphon took a small step forward, adjusting his stance. “In that case, ready when you are."

Malaresh surged towards him, but the gryphon moved faster than he expected, almost impossibly fast. In a white blur, Alakor snatched up the nearest table in his forepaws, tearing it from its moorings in the floor. He rose to his hind legs in the same smooth motion, pivoted, and hurled the entire table at the dragon. Malaresh was forced to rear onto his own hind legs, to smash his own front paws into the table and knock it aside and out of the air. The stone top cracked, and the wood around it shattered as it crashed to the floor, exploding into splintered fragments and stone chunks.

Just as quickly, the gryphon slammed into the dragon's midsection, using the distraction to cross the room in a breath. The impact knocked the air from the dragon's lungs with an agonizing cough, and sent him stumbling back a few paces. Yet Malaresh was not about to let the gryphon knock him onto his back, let alone allow Alakor a chance to strike at his throat, or his balls. He braced himself and snatched the gryphon's throat in a forepaw, grabbing him under a leg with the other. Then with snarl of effort, he twisted around and hurled the gryphon into a wall.

Alakor cried out as he collided with the wall, cracking wood and collapsing to the floor. Malaresh dropped back down onto all fours, whirling around to charge at the gryphon again. Alakar staggered back to his feet just as Malaresh threw his weight at him, twisting sideways in the air. The gryphon scrambled out of the way, leaving the dragon to impact the same wall. Dull pain thudded through him, wood splintering under his great weight.

Before he had his balance again, Alakor lashed out with a forepaw, this time striking the dragon across the muzzle hard enough to jerk his head sideways. Pain rang out through his jaw and blue-white stars danced in his vision. Malaresh stumbled back, shaking his head, but this time was ready for the gryphon. Alakor took his bait, surging into follow up with another blow, but instead, it was Malaresh who slammed a balled up fist into the side of the gryphon's skull with everything he had.

The blow hit Alakor so hard it lifted his front feet off the ground and turned his body halfway to the side. Before the snow gryphon could react, Malaresh hit him again, this time with an open paw across his beak, knocking his head back the other way. The impact left his paw pads stinging, and blood dribbling from Alakor's beak. The gryphon couched, staggering back.

Malaresh rushed after him, pressing his advantage over the smaller creature. Once again the dragon snatched the gryphon by the throat. This time he hoisted the gryphon up, forcing him to his back paws, before slamming him back up against the damaged wall. Alakor's size proved troublesome, however. Were he a smaller gryphon, Malaresh could have pinned him to the wall like that, hind paws off the ground, and choked him out. Instead, reared back, Alakor was nearly as tall as the dragon. Alakar scrabbled at the dragon's grip, beak gaping not in desperate plea for breath, but in silent, defiant snarl.

“You're a ballsy thing, bird, I'll give you that." Malaresh lowered his head, glaring into the gryphon's eyes, seeking truth behind walls of indigo. “Why are you really here?"

The gryphon managed to rasp out a single word, still struggling to pry Malaresh's fingers free. “Defection!"

The dragon snapped his teeth inches from Alakor's beak. “I don't believe you!"

“Don't…" Alakar managed to twist his voice into an angry hiss. “Care!"

Alakor dropped his paws away from Malaresh's wrists, only to ball them up into fists, and slam them directly into the dragon's fire glands, just where his jaw and his throat met. White-hot agony ripped through Malaresh, searing and sharp, all through his jaws and neck. The dragon screamed, releasing the gryphon to grasp his own throat instead. As Alakor dropped back down, Malaresh stumbled back, gasping, tears in his eyes. His fire glands throbbed, sending twin pulses of stabbing pain into the dragon's head.

Malaresh knew in an instant he'd underestimated the gryphon, and cursed himself for doing so. Of course a snow gryphon would have been taught how to exploit a dragon's less obvious weak points. He never should have left his head so close, or assumed he'd already won. He gasped for breath, turned his head, spat a sputtering stream of off-color flame. Blood and fire bile mingled on his tongue, bitter, coppery, and nauseating.

Alakor wasted no time in coming after Malaresh while he stumbled. The gryphon battered him with his forepaws, knocking his already throbbing head back and forth. Each blow left the dragon stumbling in a different direction, and suddenly Malaresh found himself struggled just to keep his balance. He reeled as the gryphon rained blows on him, trying to pull his head back out of the way. In return, he tried to strike back, but the stunning pain still ringing through his skull left him mildly disoriented, and his aim was off. The gryphon lashed out each time, blocking and deflecting the dragon's every attack.

The dragon decided to give the gryphon something he couldn't deflect. He pulled his head back out of range, took a few quick steps back, and then blasted fire over Alakor's head. Squeezing his sore fire glands to make flame left them aching worse than ever, but it had the desired effect. Roiling, red-orange flame just above him forced the gryphon to drop to his belly, covering his head with his paws as if to protect his eyes from the overwhelming heat.

Malaresh knew he was going to catch hell from the Princess for using his flame aboard the ship, but damn it, that gryphon really pissed him off. Besides, he was certain they had enough water aboard to put out in anything that caught fire. Well, fairly certain, anyway. He made sure to use only used only a tiny stream, and cut it off as soon as the gryphon dropped.

The moment the gryphon hit his belly, Malaresh snapped his jaws shut and backed away. He tensed himself, and as soon as Alakor started to rise, Malaresh spun on his paws swiftly as he could. The dragon timed his movements just right, and no sooner was the gryphon back up on his feet than Malaresh's tail whipped around, smashing into the gryphon's head and shoulders. Malaresh was careful to use the mid-section, keeping the spiny end from doing any harm. But the impact struck Alakor so hard it lifted him off his feet and sent him tumbling sideways across the floor.

Somewhere in the distance, people were shouting at him. Their voices were angry, but inconsequential. Between the furious pounding of his blood, and the ringing in his ears brought by pain, he couldn't make out the fine details of their yells and calls anyway. A quick glance around confirmed nothing important was on fire, just a bit of furniture. Assuming Nira's minions would deal with that, Malaresh returned his attention to the gryphon before he could pull any more tricks.

Alakor was slower to rise this time, a little wobbly. But he shook himself, turning towards the dragon to face him again. Blood ran from his beak in dribbling lines, but the gryphon wiped it with a paw, staining the black and white feathers crimson. “You had enough yet, Dragon?"

Malaresh snatched up an entire gryphon lounger, and hurled it into the gryphon. It exploded across him, broken wood and cushions flying in all directions. Alakar cried out, stumbled, and flopped right back into his belly. He clutched his head, gave a wheezing groan, then got his paws under himself to try and rise once more.

“Stay down, Bird!" Malaresh snarled, swiftly advancing on him.

Alakor did nothing of the sort, unsteadily pushing up to his paws once more. “Go fuck yourself, lizard!"

“If that's the way you want it, fine by me!" Malaresh took a few swift steps up alongside the gryphon, then threw himself sideways, hurling his full weight into the smaller creature.

This time Alakor had no chance to avoid it. The gryphon took Malaresh's full bodyweight, toppling to the side and rolling across the floor again. The dragon was on him in an instant, trying to pin him to the ground. They grappled and fought, snapping teeth and beak in dangerous threat. Instinct bade Malaresh to unsheathe his claws and finish his foe off, but he forced himself to maintain some semblance of calm. After all, a dead gryphon couldn't answer his questions. That, and the Princes would be awfully angry with him if he broke his word and killed her guest after all.

Alakor tried to gather himself, to brace his paws against the wooden floor, but Malaresh was ready. He seized the gryphon's foreleg, pushed his weight against him, and then forcibly rolled the gryphon over, onto his back. Alakor had to throw his wings open to keep from falling onto them. Malaresh swiftly moved to straddle him. The gryphon tried to tuck his hind legs in to defend his underbelly, but Malaresh dropped his haunches down against the gryphon's stomach. Alakor coughed, tongue protruding from his bloodied beak, as the dragon's weight crushed the air from his lungs. Malaresh curled his tail around one of the gryphon's back limbs to keep it under control, and prevent the gryphon for kicking at him. Tail spikes prodded Alakor's furry thigh, but did not penetrate his hide.

Malaresh leaned forward, settling more of his weight against the gryphon's mid-section, till he felt the smaller beast's ribs creaking. He stretched a foreleg, grasping the gryphon's throat. This time, he let his claw tips slip out, digging them in just enough to draw tiny beads of crimson blood to stain the gryphon's white feathers.

“There," Malaresh said, lowering his head to glare into the gryphon's indigo eyes. “I think we'd both agree I've won, wouldn't we?"

Alakor took a few wheezing breaths, defiance ever glittering in his eyes. “I could still…grab you by the balls!" He lifted a trembling forepaw and made a fist.

“You could, yes." The dragon chuckled. If nothing else, the gryphon's insolence was amusing. “And I could still melt your beak right off your face, so perhaps you should admit you've lost while I'm allowing you the chance to do so."

Alakor dropped his head back against the floor, panting. “Good fight, Dragon. Let's…call it even." The gryphon turned his head, coughing. Bloody droplets splattered the floor.

“You don't know when to quit, do you bird?" Malaresh shifted his weight, easing a little of it off the gryphon's body, but not releasing his throat. “You've lost!"

“So what?" Alakor reached up with his forepaws to grip the dragon's wrist. “Doesn't mean you've finished beating me! We both know you didn't come here to talk, or to fight. You just came here to beat a snow gryphon, for a while. So just let me know when you're finished." Despite the great amount of pain he must have been in there, the gryphon managed a loud, warbling laugh. “I'll wait."

Malaresh hissed, tightening his grip around the gryphon's neck. “The fuck is wrong with you, Bird?"

Alakor forced his head back up, locking eyes with the dragon and glaring. “You think you're the first to give me a beating, Dragon?" Something new crept into the gryphon's voice, a an old, bruised bitterness, like a wound he'd nursed all his life that would never quite heal. “How do you think the Union keeps us in line, when we're young and angry? What do you think they do, when we disobey? When we blaspheme? When we fail?" He snarled, flecks of blood and spittle caked his beak, and the dragon's clutching paw. “At least you had the dignity to let me fight back!" With a slow, wheezing sigh, he dropped his head back down. “That's already more respect than they ever show us."

Malaresh's grip slackened around the gryphon's throat. Fury's flame slackened in his heart, and his furious blood cooled, just a little. Maybe he'd dealt out enough punishment for one day. He relaxed his tail's grip from around Alakor's leg, and slowly, pushed himself back up to his feet to stand over the defeated gryphon, careful of his wings.

“Admit you've lost, and it's over."

Alakor took a few panting breaths. “Fuck you, Dragon."

“Perhaps after you've healed up." Malaresh stepped off of him, careful of his wings. “In the meantime, I shall take that offer as your admittance of defeat. Now wait here."

“If I must, but I'm going to be late for my next beating." Alakor lifted a paw to wipe blood from his beak, slowly rolling over onto his belly.

The dragon ignored him, padding swiftly across the room. Already the hazy but disorienting empowerment of adrenaline was fading, leaving only pain in its wake. His head and jaws ached, his fire glands throbbed, and pain shot through his hip with every step from where he'd hit the wall. At least he was confident that the gryphon was in far worse shape. If anything, he might have beaten the gryphon a little too hard. Perhaps--

“Malaresh!" An angry human female's voice cut through his pain, and his thoughts. Nira stormed towards him, dodging around debris, bloody pools, and blackened, smoldering wood. “What the fuck was that? Not only did you promise me you were coming down here to talk to him, but you used your fire inside the ship?"

Malaresh flattened his ears back, grimacing. Much as he hated to admit it, the Princess had every rite to be angry with him. He quickly surveyed the room. Already Nira's servants were scurrying about, cleaning broken furniture, pouring water over burning wood, and rushing to check on the fallen gryphon. He flattened back his frills, but continued on his way.

“I got carried away. I apologize." He flicked his tail, glancing back at her as she hurried along at his side. “But I need the room alone with the bird a little longer. Take your servants out."

“Malaresh, if you think-"

“Not now, Nira."

Nira rushed around in front of him, anger flushing her face, glittering in her eyes, and etched across her features. “Listen here, Dragon, you might think-"

“Not. Now." Malaresh snarled each word as its own proclamation, giving them a dangerous finality. In this moment, he would not brook argument with a human, not even a human he respected. “Give me the room with the bird, Nira."

Nira took a slow, deep breath. Malaresh readied himself for a string of insults, threats, and reminders of whose ship this was. Instead, Nira only sighed, running a hand back through her hair. “Very well. But your fight with him? It's over. And this?" She gestured between herself and the dragon a few times. “This is very much not over."

Malaresh nodded once, lowering his head towards her. “Thank you. I will allow you to yell and scream at me later, and I will gladly suffer your verbal slings and arrows."

“After this? You'll be lucky if I don't use real slings and arrows." She jabbed his nose with a finger, growling under her breath. “Hell, I oughta put my boot in your nuts for this little stunt."

The dragon flattened his ears at the idea, not entirely certain he wouldn't deserve it as the princess stomped away. While she ordered her servants to vacate the room, Malaresh returned to his task at hand. He carefully made his way into the galley, keeping his head low and his wings tight to his body. Though the place was designed for larger creatures, it remained a tight fit for an adult male dragon. As he hadn't been back there since the great wine spill, it took him a few moments to find what he was looking for. Once he did, he loaded everything he needed into a carrier basket, took the handle in his teeth, and returned to the gryphon.

Alakor had made it to his belly, and someone had brought him a damp cloth to wipe his bloodied beak with. As the dragon approached, he glanced up at him. “Round two, already? You dragons must have a hell of a quick refractory period. Don't suppose this time I can be on top?"

Malaresh set the basket down near the gryphon, then eased himself down onto his belly, just across from him. He wondered if the bird's tongue had always been that sharp, or if all the abuse heaped on him by the Union had simply forged it over time, like a blade. For now, he kept his own muzzle shut, unpacking the basket. He'd brought two wooden drinking bowls, one designed for gryphons and one his own. Malaresh also brought a large bottle of rum, with an oversized stopper usable by the ship's larger crew members.

The dragon gripped the rounded, crystalline bottle in one paw, and the stopper in the other. He twisted it and pulled it free, then set it aside. Malaresh poured a sizable portion of rum into the gryphon's drinking bowl, then pushed it over to him. Then he filled his own bowl, and set the bottle down. The dragon picked up his own bowl, and waited for the gryphon to do the same.

“Drink." When Alakor hesitantly took up the bowl, Malaresh nodded. “All of it."

Alakor sniffed the rum, then downed the whole thing in a few long gulps. Malaresh did the same. The dragon had grown to like just about every spirit and alcoholic indulge kept aboard the ship, but he'd developed a particular fondness for rum. Perhaps it came from the old human tales of adventurous and villainous pirates with a taste for the stuff, the same sort of stories he liked to imagine Nira modeled her crew on. This bottle in particular, was quite good, with flavors of vanilla, honey, burnt sugar, and other things the dragon could not name. It also brought with it a rolling wave of heat, and a flash of white-hot pain to his bruised fire glands. He cringed as he swallowed it down, hoping they'd heal swiftly.

Malaresh thumped his bowl back down, glaring at the gryphon. “You fought well."

Alakor tilted his head back, blue eyes narrowed and ears flat. He stared up at the dragon, perhaps seeking the measure of his honesty. Finally, he gave a chirping noise, and set his own bowl down. “So did you."

The dragon pulled the gryphon's bowl closer, and poured him a second round. As he returned it to him, he arched his neck, mantled his wings. “Why are you here?"

“Didn't they tell you?" The gryphon picked up his bowl again, this time taking only a sip. “I'm defecting to your crew."

Malaresh gazed into the bird's eyes, unblinking. “Why are you here?"

Alakor, meanwhile, blinked several times. “Are you deaf, lizard? I said I'm defecting."

Without looking away from Alakor, the dragon poured himself more rum, as well. “Why are you here?"

“Oh, I get it." Alakor flattened his ears back, looking at. “This is your attempt at spy craft, is it? Very well, dragon, I'll play along. You want to look into my eyes while I say it? Or do you have some arcane machine to strap me too, see if I'm lying or not? Perhaps you could bind me to a great chair, and dunk me in a river till I finally answer the way I want."

“Your eyes will do just fine." Malaresh took a slow drink of his own rum, savoring it this time. “That's all a dragon ever needs."

Alakor turned his head back towards the dragon, and Malaresh set his drinking vessel down. He reached out and cupped the gryphon's beak, gently this time, just enough to keep Alakor from turning his head away. Malaresh curled his neck, dropping his head down till his muzzle hovered just before Alakor's face. He stared into the gryphon's eyes, analyzing the sapphire depths, before repeating his singular question.

“Why are you here?"

“I'm defecting to your crew." Alakor's answer came swiftly, decisively. He did not blink, his pupils did not dilate or shift away. Anger and hatred boiled behind them, searing in its intensity, yet Malaresh did not think it was directed at him. “Though if one more person decides to put me on the floor today, I may have to seriously reconsider."

If the gryphon's sarcasm and defiance were walls constructed to defend him, they could not hide the roiling ocean of turmoil beyond his eyes. Yet, they hid something, and Malaresh could not quite tell what it was. “Why-"

“I'm fucking defecting!" Alakor slapped a paw against the floor.

Malaresh started over with the question the gryphon interrupted. “Why are you defecting?"

Alakor blinked, swallowed, and a twitch of his neck told Malaresh he was resisting the urge to tug his beak away. “To escape the union."

Malaresh tilted his head. Something in the gryphon's eyes had shifted, nearly imperceptible, but there just the same. “Are you being truthful, Bird?"

“Yes." The gryphon's voice was somehow both flat, and furious.

Malaresh tightened his grip, just a little. “Do you still serve the Union?"

“No!" The anger in his eyes grew, bleeding over into his voice.

The dragon repeated the question. “Do you still serve the Union?"

“Fuck the Union!" The rage, the hatred hidden away behind the gryphon's sarcastic walls finally boiled over, burning bright and blue in his eyes. He jerked his beak away, slapped Malaresh's paw aside, and pushed his muzzle away. “Fuck the Union, fuck the Empire, and fuck you, dragon!" He sat up onto his haunches, throwing his wings wide. “I wish to defect because you're not part of any of it, because you're free from all the self-righteous bullshit on both sides! Because they treat us like people here! They treat you like a person! I'm here because I will no longer allow myself to be anyone's slave!"

Malaresh slowly held up his paw. “That's enough, gryphon. I've no more questions."

Alakor heaved a wagged sigh, curling his wings around himself like a sulking fledging. “You don't believe me."

“I did not say that." The dragon picked up his bowl, and took another drink of rum.

“You didn't have too." Alakor preened one his wings. After the fight, his feathers were in disarray, blood-stained in a few places, singed in others. “You aren't the only one good at spotting deceptions."

“I offer no deception." The dragon set his bowl down, smiling. “I believe you are genuinely defecting." His smile soon faded, replaced by flared spines all around his head. “But I don't believe you're just looking to escape. There's too much anger and hatred in you, but at least it's aimed in the right direction." He snorted. “At the Golden Union."

Alakar snarled under his breath, glancing away.

“And probably at me." Malaresh chuckled, finishing his rum.

The gryphon gave a low, chirruping sigh. “I don't hate you, Dragon, and I…I understand why you despise my people." He held up a paw. “I may intensely dislike you, but I don't have you. Like I said." Alakor put his paw back down. “At least you let me fight back. Never had that chance, before. I respect that."

“Then we shall drink to sharing both intense dislike and mutual respect." He refilled his own drink, then gryphon's as well.

Alakor picked up his bowl, toasting the dragon with it. “To getting my ass kicked by someone I don't quite hate."

Malaresh rumbled, then downed his entire bowl. He grimaced when the long drink left his fire glands complaining. He rubbed his throat. “Ugh. Damn fire glands are gonna hurt when I swallow for days, now."

Alakor drained his own rum, laughing. He wiped his beak with the back of a paw, then dropped his bowl. It clattered against the floor. “You started it."

“That I did." Malaresh poured them both another round, then inspected the bottle. “I'm going to need to get more of this."

“Yes." Alakor picked his bowl right back up when it was full again. “You are." He took a drink, then grimaced, rubbing himself between the hind legs. “If it makes you feel any better, my balls are still sore, too."

Malaresh cocked his head. “I didn't hit you in the balls."

“No," the gryphon said, laughing. “Your princess did."

Malaresh laughed with him before finishing his rum. “You know what? That does make me feel better."

*****

Chapter Thirteen

*****

Princess Nira paced back and forth across the wide, bare wood-paneled hallway in the lower decks. Everything here was designed for the beasts who dwelled in the lowest decks. The corridors and doorways were large enough even for dragons to comfortably traverse. There was no carpet on the floors, just sturdy flooring scruffed and scratched by a decade or so of immense footballs and angrily unsheathed claws. What few paintings and other decorations once marked the walls had long since been knocked down by the stretching of wings, or the playful roughhousing of creatures many times her size.

Nira visited the area often. The three gryphons who came here to relax were some of her best friends, and this was the easiest place for them to share a drink together. At least they could generally fit in other areas of the ship as well. For Malaresh, things were not so easy. If Nira restricted his access from this Common Room, the dragon would have few places on the ship left to venture outside his own so-called lair. She imagined it would infuriate him, and that was exactly why she was considering it. If nothing else, it would show him how she felt when she realized he'd only come down here to pick a fight with the gryphon, after all.

The Princess supposed she shouldn't be surprised. Malaresh probably thought he had honored his promises. In the dragon's mind, not using his claws or his teeth probably equated to ensuring the gryphon was not badly harmed. Even if she confronted him about it, he'd probably give her some bullshit about how humans simply did not understand the ways of dragons, or gryphons. After all, they had their own codes of honor, their own morals, and Nira knew sometimes she just had to let them sort out their issues their own way. Still, she brought the dragon down here to talk to the gryphon. Fighting him was supposed to be a last resort. Malaresh, it seemed, had other ideas.

Yet none of that was what had really pissed Nira off. The fighting was to be expected, really. Wasn't as if it was the first time the dragon got into a fight after promising not to, or the first time she'd seen him beat the crap out of something. Maybe violence was in dragon nature, or maybe it was just his nature. Of all her ship's crew, Malaresh was far and away the hardest one for her to read, or ever know what to expect from.

But she'd sure as hell never expected him to use his fire inside the ship. That was what really pissed her off. There were very few things she'd ever expressly forbidden her crew from doing, and fewer still for Malaresh. After all, she wasn't exactly in control of the dragon. But as far as she could tell, he'd always respected her authority over the ship, and her responsibility to keep its occupants safe. And one of the only things she'd ever outright ordered him not to do?

Blast his fucking fire inside my ship.

Nira balled up her fists, clenching her jaw. She paced back and forth a few times, trying to tell herself the dragon must have had his reasons. At least…she hoped he did. If his only excuse for lighting her ship on fire in flight was because his pride was afraid of losing a fight he picked? She was going to rip one of his damn horns off and beat him with to death with it. Granted, it had only been a very small fire, with no real lasting damage done, but that wasn't the point.

“Nira…" An soft voice, and a gentle touch on her shoulder pulled her from his thoughts. “Everything's alright, now. Try and relax a little before you grind your teeth down to nothin'."

The princess took a deep breath, setting her hand atop Rog's. The gnoll had arrived a little while ago, and spent the entire time apologizing for things that would have been out of his control, anyway. Nira had given him the night off, told him she could handle the dragon's return on her own. Hell, she'd damn near ordered him to go and relax. While she was waiting for Malaresh, Rog had been spending time with drinking and socializing Kasis and Vekk. His freshly washed fur, and still clean gold and black clothing, told her he'd cut his night short to come help her as soon as he heard about the fight.

With a sigh, Nira turned to Rog, and laid her head against the gnoll's chest. She closed her eyes a moment, focusing on the steady, soothing thump of her lifelong friend's heartbeat. The gnoll gently hugged her, stroking her hair with the other hand. Despite her anger, Nira was glad the gnoll was there. She hated that Malaresh's actions had cost him his night off, but his steadying presence was, as always, a comfort. To think that people used to think gnolls were monsters, to imagine that the Union still did…it made her sick.

“Sorry I wasn't here to stop him." Rog stroked her head again, resting his muzzle atop it.

Nira scowled, slapping his arm. “Stop apologizing. We both know you wouldn't have had any more luck than I did."

“Yeah, but…still shoulda been here." Rog flicked his tail, a frustrated grimace washing over his muzzle. “Soon as I heard the chimes, I shoulda got up from the poker table, grabbed my axe, and ran my ass down here."

“Oh, yes," Nira said, drawing back with a smile. “Because if anything can calm down a furious dragon, it's an aggressive gnoll barring his way with an axe."

Rog only shrugged. “He'd have felt so bad about trampling me to death that he woulda forgotten all about the gryphon."

Nira laughed at that, then gave the gnoll a playful shove. “Hilarious." She glanced up the corridor, to where she'd sent most of the guards. She wanted to prevent anyone else from coming to the lower decks commons, but also give Malaresh and Alakor a little space when they finally left. “You should get back to Kasis and Vekk now that everything's calmed."

“Nah," Rog said, shaking his head. “Someone's gotta soothe your nerves. Besides, they're probably doing something else, now that they're alone."

“Probably."

Nira turned back towards the Commons Area doors, where the three gryphons and Amelia waited. They'll all waited behind to watch over her, as much as Malaresh. She was certainly happy to have them all there to help soothe her frazzle nerves and furious anger. Their presence alone had been a great comfort. Once Rog arrived, they gave her some space with the gnoll. Now, Jirril and Amelia were both watching Malaresh and Alakor through the small opening. Sivik and Lissir lounged together nearby, speaking softly.

Rog put his hand on her shoulder. “You know what I mean? Since they're alone, they're probably-"

“Yes, Rog," Nira said, swatting his hand. “I know."

Rog paused a beat, grinning. “…Fucking."

Rather than take the bait, Nira tried to turn the tables. “Oh, you're right!" She spun on her heel, pushing him down the hall. “Quick, go see if they'll let you join in!"

The gnoll barked raucous laughter. “Hah! I don't think it was that kind of invitation, earlier. Though…we were about to start playin' strip poker when I left."

Nira shook her head, smiling. Somehow, Rog always helped ease even the heaviest of weights form her mind. “Strip poker? With Kasis and Vekk?"

“Yeah, why not?" Rog folded his arms, perking his ears. “It sounds fun."

“For them, sure." Nira poked the gnoll's belly. “You know Kasis is really good at counting cards, right?"

“Wait…really?" Rog's ears drooped, and a sneer twisting up his muzzle. “No wonder I keep losing every time I play her!"

“Maybe you should be playing strip poker then." Nira poked him again, smirking. “That way all you've got to lose is your clothing."

“True…" Rog scratch the thick ruff of fur on the back of his neck. “Better my clothes than my coin. Or my bullets. Or my booze."

“And, after the other morning?" Nira made a show of glancing down at the gnoll's crotch. “She's already seen what you're packing, anyway. So you really don't have anything to lose."

The gnoll laughed, ears splaying back. “Oh yeah. Kinda forgot about that. She did seem pretty interested."

“That she did," Nira said, sharing his laughter. “Probably the first time she's seen a gnoll naked. Maybe she didn't know those things came in that size. Now come on." She walked towards the gryphons. “Let's go see if anything's changed."

Rog followed at her side, his bushy tail wagging. “So, if I go play strip poker with them sometime, you gonna come play too?"

Nira grinned at the thought, shrugging. “If I ever got invited, I might! Could be fun, with enough drink."

“You guys talkin' about strip poker with Vekk and Kasis?" Amelia called out as they approached her. As Jirril sat on his haunches, watching through the opening, Amelia scratched his neck feathers. “I love playin' with them. When's the next game?"

Nira stared at the other woman. “Wait, you've played with them, too?"

“Oh yeah, couple times now." Amelia lifted a hand away from gryphon-petting duties to rub her chin. “It's a hell of a lotta fun. We all get real drunk first, though. Kasis is ridin' a real hot streak, though, I ain't see her outta much more than her jumpsuit yet."

Nira rolled her eyes, sighing. “She counts cards, Amelia."

“Oh…" Amelia curled her lip. “Well, shit." Then she laughed and went back to petting Jirril's indigo feathers. “Still had a lotta fun. You gonna come play too, next time?"

“If I get a damn invitation!" Nira threw her hands up. “How come everyone's getting invited to this stuff but me?"

“Cause he's a gnoll," Amelia said, jerking a thumb at Rog. “They're up for anything. And me? I'm a woman of the people. But you?" She shot the princess a look of feigned disdain. “You're a stuffy, uptight royal. Everyone knows you don't want nothin' to do with all the dirty drinkin' games us peasants play."

“The hell I don't!" Nira laughed, thumping Aemlia on the shoulder. “I'll drink, and strip you peasants under the table!" Then she blinked, trailing off. “That…sounded different in my head."

“Drinking and stripping?" Jirril warbled chirping laughter. The blue and gray gryphon sat on his haunches just before the slightly parted doors. “That sounds like my kind of table!" He flicked his feathery tail against the floor. “And my kind of game. How do I join in, darlings?"

“You can't play," Amelia said, tweaking his ear. “You don't wear clothes, so you don't have anything to take off when you lose a hand."

“That's not fair!" Jirril slapped his paw against the floor. “That's discrimination against nudists."

Nira giggled, joining Amelia in petting the male gryphon. “Unless other gryphons suddenly start wearing clothes and you don't, you're not a nudist."

“Can I least join in for the drinking part?" Jirril leaned his head into the women's touch. “And watch the stripping?"

“Now you're just fantasizing," Amelia said, playfully swatting his head.

Jirril ducked, hissing. “Watch the feathers! Don't muss me." He tilted his head, gazing up at the women and Rog with one eye, ears splayed and beak half open in smug gryphon smile. “Tell you what. How about I just start out on my belly, but take a series of increasingly provocative, and exposed positions? You can't say you wouldn't enjoy seeing that!" He fluffed up his indigo feathers. “Just look at me, I'm gorgeous!"

“You're something, alright," Nira said, smoothing down the feathers on the back of his neck. She leaned against him, trying to peer through the doors. She couldn't get a proper angle, though, and could only see a bit of white feathers and black scales. “So, has anything changed? What are they doing now?"

“Well, they're not petting me, that's for certain." Jirril gave a plaintive warble, hanging his head. “It's quite dismaying!"

“Two people petting you isn't it?" Amelia rubbed his ears, shaking her head.

“Of course not!" Jirril rustled his wings against his back. “A beautiful gryphon such as myself can never have enough petting." He turned his head to give Rog a baleful glare. “Especially when someone is just standing there, not petting the gryphon like he should be."

Rog heaved a sigh, wading in around Amelia and Nira to start petting the gryphon's back and wings. “Happy?"

“Happier, anyway." Jirril thrummed a raspy purr, even as he twisted his head to smile at Sivik and Lissir. “Ladies?"

Sivik flared up her crown feathers, glaring at him. “Don't even think about demanding we pet you."

Jirril leaned onto his haunches, holding his forepaws up. “Wouldn't dream of it! It's simply not proper to ask another gryphon for pettings. Rather, I was going to suggest you come sit with me, and we share the pettings."

“Somehow," Lissir said, tilting her gray-feathered head. “I suspect you'd keep hogging them, and find a way to rope us in, as well."

“Well…" Jirril circled a paw before setting them both back down. “If you offered, I wouldn't say no. Be terribly impolite."

Nira stroked the gryphons throat, trying not to laugh. “Jirril, why are you like this?"

“I just told you, its because I'm gorgeous!" He stretched his forelegs in front of himself, splaying his paws. “Wouldn't you be like this, if you were me?"

“Must be some remnant of bird evolution." Amelia stroked him down to his shoulders, then scratched his neck all the way back up. “You know, like peacocks. Look how showy the males get! Jirril's just like that, only it bleeds into his ego, and since gryphons can talk? He gets to show off with his beak, too."

Jirril twisted his head around to offer Amelia the same smarmy gryphon smile he'd given the female gryphons. “Oh, you're right about that, my darling, I do so love to show off what I can do with my beak."

“You know why he's really like that, right?" Lissir stretched her wings out, yawning.

“Because he has balls?" Sivik warbled giggling laughter. “The swamp clans with colorful males are notorious."

Jirril fluffed himself up, cocking a hind leg as if to show himself off. “I do, they're fantastic, and yes, we are!" He put a forepaw to his chest. “Notoriously magnificent."

“Besides all that." Lissir waved her forepaw at him dismissively. “It's because you keep encouraging him. The more you pet him whenever he wants it, the more he's going to ask for it."

As much as Nira knew it was true, she also knew she wasn't likely to stop any time soon. “I think you're right. He's like a cat that won't stop flopping into your lap for attention. No matter how much you may sigh, you're still gonna pet the damn cat."

“Oh!" Jirril ruffled up his wings, smiling at everyone. “I know! How about this?" He waggled a forepaw. “Since I don't have any clothes to take off, I could put clothes on!"

Nira ran a hand back through her hair. “Are you back on the damn strip poker thing again?"

“I refuse to be excluded!" Jirril puffed his feathers out all around his body. “So the bipeds will take clothing off, and Malaresh and I-"

“Wait, wait, wait!" Nira glowered at the gryphon. “Since when is Malaresh involved?"

“Since now!" Jirril turned his head to preen a wing. “If I'm playing, he'll certainly want to play."

“Oh, Gods," Nira said, laughing. “I can hear it now." She lowered her voice into the deepest, brassiest tone she could manage. “I am victorious. Now…disrobe for me, Maiden!"

Amelia laughed with her, rubbing Jirril's neck. “Yeah, that kinda does sound like what he says."

Nira blinked, glancing her way. “And when does he say that, exactly?"

“Oh, whenever." Amelia focused her attention on the gryphon, rubbing him harder. “Who's a good bird!"

“I am, of course!" Jirril arched his neck into her touch.

Nira chuckled, nudging Rog with her elbow. “I get the feeling Amelia's 'disrobed' in front of the dragon before."

Amelia only shrugged. “If I've been out riding him or the birds on a long mission, I want a bath when I come back. Sometimes it's just easier to use their tub."

“Oh really?" Rog made a bawdy, growling noise. “I just thought that was a dirty rumor."

Amelia lifted her hands away from the gryphon long enough to wave them around, feigning panic. “Oh no, creatures who never wear clothes have seen me naked! How will I ever bare the shame?"

“Point taken, Amelia." Nira gently grasped Jirril's ear and gave it a playful shake. “Not that this one would know shame if it bit him on the ass."

Jirril only smiled at her. “Is that where you humans like to be bitten?" He glanced at Amelia, beak open. “Shall I remember that, for the next time you need to use our tub?"

Amelia flicked the tip of the gryphon's beak, making him yelp. “Don't make me start bathing with my rifle."

“The way you fondle that thing, I'm surprised you doesn't already bathe with it." Rog barked laughter, flicking his tail.

Jirril gave an indignant squawk. “I am not an 'it'! And any fondling that may or may not have occurred-"

“The rifle!" Amelia slapped the gryphon across the back of his head. “He's talking about my rifle!" She shot the gnoll a dirty look. “Which I do not fondle."

Rog tilted his head. “Is that cause you're too busy fondling the gryphon's 'rifle' instead?"

Amelia balled up her fists and took a threatening step towards the gnoll. “You're about to get fondled by my boot!"

The gnoll gave a mock yelp and hurried around behind the princess, pretending to cower behind the human woman. “Quick, Princess, protect me!"

“I am not your shield!" Nira tried to move away but Rog stuck just behind her. “Let alone your…your crotch protector!"

Jirril pushed himself to his feet in a sudden, smooth movement, forcing everyone to step away from the doors. “I think they've finished in there. Give them some room!" He stretched out a wing in a grand, sweeping motion, pushing everyone back.

Nira batted at his wing as she moved aside. “You're the one sprawled in the damn way."

Lissir peered through the cracked doors again. “Alakor's approaching first." She nipped at her sister's neck, ushering her further down the hall. “Let's let the Princess talk to them without us looming." She lifted her head to glance back at Jirril. “You too. You can comfort your scaly lover after Nira's finished screaming at him."

“Oh, very well." Jirril brushed past Nira on his way down the hallway. “Don't be too harsh on him. He had his reasons, and Alakor seems fine. Besides, it was only a little fire."

“How'd you like your bed set a little bit on fire?" Amelia shoved at the gryphon's haunches. “Get moving, you oversized feather house cat."

Nira rubbed her forehead. “I'll only yell at him a little, for now. I'll yell more in the morning, when he's hungover. That way it'll really hurt."

The gryphons all moved to wait further down the hallway, leaving just Nira, Rog, and Amelia to greet Alakor when he emerged from the Commons Area doors. Malaresh must have been waiting to talk to her without the gryphon around. That part was perfectly fine, but he'd damn well better have something useful to tell her for all the trouble he'd caused. For now, she focused her attentions on Alakor.

The white gryphon emerged from the doors, limping just a little. He also wobbled slightly every few steps. Nira couldn't tell where the line between pained limp and drunken wobble was. He'd certainly taken a hell of a beating from the dragon, but the two of them had also drank an awful lot of liquor after finishing their brawl. A few splotches of dried blood still marked his beak and his white pelt, and she was sure his beak, head, and quite a few other areas were going to be heavily bruised, but he didn't seem to have suffered any serious injuries. Nira was thankful that Malaresh kept his promise about that, at least.

“Alakor." Nira stepped towards him, flanked by her two officers. A pang of guilt struck her, cold and sharp in her belly. She'd promised no harm would come to him while he was here, and failed to keep him safe. “I am deeply sorry-"

“Don't apologize." The gryphon managed a little smile, his ears slightly perked. He lifted a forepaw, pads towards her. “You've nothing to be sorry for. He wanted a fight, so I gave him one. If anything, I should apologize to you, for fighting on your ship." The gryphon bowed his head, touching his beak to the floor. “I apologize for causing your crew trouble, and for the damages."

Nira grit her jaw, balling up her hands. The gryphon didn't sound drunk. If anything, he sounded as if everything had gone as he expected. “I'm guessing you knew that was going to happen."

Alakor lifted his head again. “Dragons and snow gryphons do not have a pleasant history. I assumed he'd come to throw me a beating, and now he has. Given the way you arrived with him, I'd wager he threatened to do more than just beat me."

The Princess decided against giving the gryphon the specifics. “There were more detailed threats, yes. I tried to stop him, but-"

“He's a dragon." The gryphon shook his head. “Short of putting a very large caliber round into his skull, I doubt there's anything you could have done to stop him. I appreciate the effort, but you need not guilt yourself. Trust me." Alakor fluffed himself up, lifting his black-tipped crown feathers. “It's better this way."

“Better?" Nira arched a brow. “Better than someone dying, yes."

“True, but not what I meant." Alakor turned, gazing back the way he'd come. Malaresh busied himself stowing away the last of the empty bottles and drinking vessels. The gryphon clicked his beak, watching him. “He was going to fight me eventually, one way or another. Better to get it out of the way immediately, under controlled circumstances, with rules about claws and such. Otherwise, tension would have built between us, day by day." He settled onto his haunches, sighing. “When it finally exploded, it would have been in an outburst of uncontained fury, with claws, and beaks, and teeth, and blood." He glanced down at a few red stains marring his chest feathers. “Well, more blood. A fight like that, erupting at the wrong time, that's how people die, and things get destroyed. No, no, this was for the best." He preened at the stained feathers, and spat one to the floor. “At least we have an understanding now, to an extent. I don't think you will see us fighting again."

“I sure as hell hope not." Nira took a deep breath, and ran a hand down her face. “Alright, if that's the way you see it, I'm willing to leave it there. But I'd like the girls to escort you back to your quarters for the night. I'll send Amelia around in a bit. She'll bring medics to give you a thorough examination." Nira wagged a single finger at him, cutting off any potential protest. “Which is mandatory."

Alakor pushed himself back up to all fours. “I understand." As Sivik and Lissir approached him, he bowed his head to the female gryphons. “Thank you for standing up for me, earlier."

Lissir grunted and clacked her beak. “Just following our orders, really. We're in charge of your security too, after all."

“Nonetheless, I do appreciate you helping to set the rules, and keep claws sheathed." He mantled his wings against the ground, then returned them to his back as he lifted his head. “Ready when you are, my beauties."

Sivik gave an irritable sounding hiss as she turned away. “Gets his ass kicked once, and he's right back to the smooth talk and flattery."

“This way, Snowballs." Lissir stretched her wing to brush it across his back, guiding him down the hallway.

Only when Alakor was long gone did Malaresh enter the hallway, and approach Nira. By then, the hottest fires of her anger had dwindled a bit to smoldering coals. She gestured for Jirril to go and see him first. She'd waited this long to chew the dragon out, the least she could was give his lover a moment to check on him.

The blue and gray gryphon hurried over to the dragon, hugging Malaresh around the neck with both forelegs. Jirril stroked the dragon's neck, and Malaresh stretched his vast, ebony wings forward to enshroud the gryphon with them. The dragon tucked his head under his wings, further muffling their whispered exchange. Nira turned away and leaned up against the wall. Under the circumstances she couldn't give them much privacy, but she could at least avoid staring at them.

Malaresh soon withdrew his wings, and Jirril pulled away from him. The gryphon padded over to Nira, then settled on his haunches alongside her. He brushed his beak across her shoulder, his voice gentle. “Thank you, for that. Now you may yell at him."

Nira rubbed the gryphon's beak, then smoothed back his ears with both hands. “I'd have yelled a lot more a little while ago. But the night's young."

*****

Chapter Fourteen

*****

The dragon settled back on his haunches, in the middle of the hallway, his eyes on Nira. He was silent as she approached him, and she could only imagine he was steeling himself to take whatever onslaught she was about to unleash. She strode up to him, her arms folded. Nira tipped her head back to glare up at him, her eyes boring into Malaresh's. Several moments of silence passed before she finally spoke.

“You know we're on an airship, right?" She unfolded her arms again, waving her hand. “And that we're flying, thousands of feet above the earth? In an airship?" She jabbed her fingers against his scales. “A flammable fucking airship?"

Malaresh took a slow breath. He rustled his wings, then let out a great, weary sigh. “I should not have used my flame."

“No fucking shit!" Nira jabbed him again, then balled up her fist. “Because allow me to fucking repeat myself! We're flying on a gods-damned airship! What do you think is going to happen to all of us if some arrogant dragon accidentally lights it all on fire, just because he's losing a fight he started to sate his own fucking pride?"

“I was not losing the fight, I was-"

“Answer the fucking question!" Nira punched the dragon's lower chest, scraping her knuckles on his scales and jarring her wrist. “What happens to all of us if you light the ship on fire, and we can't control it in time?"

Malaresh shifted his weight, curling his tail around his paws. “We die."

“We die!" Nira punched him again, heedless of the fact the angry gesture hurt her more than it hurt him. “We all fucking die, because you broke the one rule I made you swear to! The one fucking rule! No!" She slugged his scaled chest again with each word. “Fire! Inside! The! Ship!"

Malaresh winced, though Nira was certainly it was more from embarrassment at being berated by a creature a tenth his size than from any physical discomfort she might be causing. “I was careful not to-"

“No!" Nira glanced down, took aim, and stomped on his forepaw. This time she did intend it to hurt.

“OW!" Malaresh yanked his forepaw up, shaking it and hissing. “What are you doing? That hurts!"

“Good! Since nothing else seems to get through to you, I'll stomp the other one, next!" She snatched his front paw in both hands, tugging it down to glare up at his face. “I don't want to hear your gods-damned excuses! The rule is not, a little fire inside the ship! Nor is it, fire is allowed when carefully applied! The rule is no fire!" Nira tried to hurl the dragon's hand down in disgust, but managed little more than pushing it out of her grasp.

“I am sorry." Malaresh lowered his head, his muzzle hovering before head. His ears drooped, and there was genuine contrition in his voice. At least, Nira hoped it was genuine. She could never quite be sure with the dragon. “I have violated your trust, and for that I genuinely apologize. I…let my anger and my pride get the better of me, and…acted foolishly, endangering your ship and your crew. I will accept whatever punishment you believe fitting."

Nira took the deepest breath she could, running her hands back through her hair. That was a more direct, more sincere apology than she expected. While it was possible the dragon was simply trying to manipulate his way out of trouble, Nira did not believe that the case. If nothing else, this ship was Jirril's home, too.

“Understand something, Dragon." Nira tapped her finger against the sensitive area between the dragon's nostrils. “A serious fire, inside this ship, is one of the most dangerous things we could ever deal with. Yes, you only used a small amount of your flame, and yes, we put it out quickly. This time. But half the damn ship's made of wood, dragon. If things go south, it could burn through the ship before anyone could ever stop it. And then all we can do is hope to land quickly enough to give some of the crew a chance to evacuate before they burn to death, or choke on fumes. Or, if the fire burns through something vital too fast?" She shrugged, shaking her head. “We all go down with the ship. Including you…" She thrust a finger at Jirril. “And him, and the girls. Your wings aren't gonna do you any good if you can't get outside in time to use them. Hell, we don't even have the escape vessels we were meant too. Those we once had, have long since been scavenged for parts. There's a reason I gave you that rule. It's the same reason things like cooking are so tightly regulated, and why Vekk's got some many rules about engine upkeep, boiler maintenance, and so on."

Malaresh stared down at his own forepaws, silent. Behind her, Amelia and Rog waited. She glanced back at them, inclining her head towards the dragon, curious to see if they had anything to add. After a moment, Rog stepped forward.

“Look, Dragon." He took a few steps forward, and put a steadying hand on Nira's shoulder. “We're all glad you're one of us. But…you can't do this again. You can't endanger the ship. If that gryphon was an active enemy, and tryin' to kill you? If you were protecting Nira? Sure, we'd cut you some slack, since it was so easily put out."

“That's a big part of it, actually." Amelia walked up on the other side of Nira. “Not just that you broke Nira's fire rule, but that you did it in a fight that you picked, just cause you were made." She held her hands up, warding off any reply. “I don't wanna hear what his people did to yours, that ain't a part of this right now. You went there to start a fight you didn't have to, and you chose to use your fight to make sure you won. It wasn't life or death, you weren't protecting anyone, you were just mad."

“That's right." Nira slapped the back of her hand against her palm. “That's what really pisses me off. Maybe I sound like I'm overreacting, or overblowing the threat of you using your fire aboard the ship. After all, the ship's made to engage in sustained combat. The whole crew is trained in fire suppression. Everyone knows where the nearest water storage tanks are, where the pressure hoses are, what areas can be sealed off and how to do so, and on and on. But combat's different. Everyone's awake, active, and at battle stations. It's the middle of the damn night right now, and most of the ship's asleep. It's the worst damn time to have a fire, cause it's going to take the longest to get an organized response." She wrung her hands, sighing. “In the end, no, you blasting your fire in the Commons Area tavern probably isn't going to crash the ship. But that isn't the point. The point is, you…" Nira scowled at the dragon. “You said it yourself. You violated my trust."

“Yes, I did." Malaresh bowed his head till his muzzle brushed the floor, near Nira's boots. “I apologize again. And I promise upon my honor, and my ancestors' honor, it will not happen again."

Nira had never heard the dragon use those terms before. She glanced at Jirril who gave her a sly nod as if to say, yes, that was a big deal for a dragon. Nira eached out and touched the dragon's neck. “I really have little choice but to take you at your word. But I hope you realize this is the sort of thing I could have you exiled from the ship, for." Malaresh tensed under her touch. Jirril sucked in a breath, his crown feathers flared. Nira let them worry for a moment before clarify. “I could but I won't. You've a home here, with us." She tilted her head towards the gryphon. “With Jirril. You got…carried away in a fight, but, everyone makes mistakes."

“Everyone gets carried away in fights." Rog snorted, glowering at the princess a moment. “And sparring matches."

The dragon slowly lifted his head, then pressed his muzzle to Nira's hand, gentle. “I thank you for your mercy in allowing me to stay, Your Highness."

Nira patted his nose, unsure how to feel about all his sudden formality. Made her feel as if she was taking part in some kind of ancient draconic ritual she did not know the rules for. “You're welcome. Besides…" She gave his muzzle a gentle rub, then dropped her hand. “You're our only dragon. And just because I'm letting you stay doesn't mean I'm not still pissed at you."

The dragon nodded once. “I understand." He cocked his head. “What punishment am I to suffer then, till your fury is assuaged?"

“Honestly, I don't know." She glanced around at the others. “You and Alakor did a pretty good job of punishing each other, already. Speaking of which, how're you feeling?"

“Perfectly fine." The dragon shook himself, thumping his tail. His spines scratched at the floor. “Hardly a bruise on me."

“Your swollen jaws say otherwise." With her anger abating, Nira took a moment to look the dragon over. His frills looked discolored where the gryphon had struck a number of blows around the sides of his head. Broken scales and scattered hints of dried blood along the dragon's jaws marked other bruised areas. “I want the medics to look at you, too. Before you sleep."

Malaresh hissed, lashing his tail against the wall, adding a few more scratches. “Must they? I hate the medics! Always poking, and prodding, and sticking me with things, and looking in places!"

“I know you do." Nira smirked, reaching out to cradle the dragon's jaws in her hands. “So let's call that phase 1 of your punishment. A thorough…very thorough…medical examination. And you will do, and take, everything you're told, no matter how distasteful." She ran her hands up along his jawline, to where they met his head. The scales there felt very hot, and a few more showed signs of splitting and cracking. Just behind his jaws, the top of his neck was noticeably swelling up. “This is where he punched you, when you were choking him." Nira touched one of the swollen areas, and the dragon yanked his head back, hissing. “Sorry."

Malaresh tossed his head, snarling. “Fucking gryphon hit me in the fire glands!" He reached up, rubbing one with a paw, wincing. “Could hardly see straight for a few moments." He set his paw back down, licking his muzzle. “Couldn't believe he did that."

“You were choking him, weren't you?" Amelia crossed her arms. “What'd you expect him to do?"

“I didn't expect him to know how to target a dragon's fire glands in the first place." Malaresh worked his jaw around. “Dragons sure as hell never do that to one another, unless their life is on the line."

“A, he's not a dragon," Amelia said, ticking off her fingers. “And B, in the moment, he probably felt like his life was on the line."

“Regardless, sharpshooter," Malaresh said, still working his jaws. “Hitting in the fire glands, in non-lethal combat, is highly offensive to a dragon."

Nira chuckled to herself. “So should I tell him to just kick you in the balls, next time?"

Malaresh glared at her, ears flat and frills extended. “Oh, what a hilarious jest!" He tossed his head. “And honestly, that would be less offensive, yes. Those are expected targets in pride battles and sparring bouts. Fire glands are not." He rubbed his throat again, wincing.

Rog rubbed one of his ears. “Dragons are weird."

Nira glanced his way. “What do gnolls consider off limits in fights like that?"

Rog tilted his head, perking one ear and splaying the other. “Nothing. Just don't kill 'em, and try not to break anything. That's about it."

Nira grinned, shook her head, and returned her attention to the dragon, her smile fading. “Seriously though, you're not injured, are you?"

“I don't think so, no." The dragon set his paw back down. “I spat blood a few times, but I think they're just bruised. They should heal fine like everything else."

“Good." Nira put her hand on Amelia's arm. “I still want the medics to do a thorough assessment of all his injuries. Make sure he's not still bleeding inside his jaws or anything."

Amelia nodded once. “Understood."

Malaresh rumbled his disapproval but did not protest. “I suppose I should expect further punishments?"

Nira crossed her arms again, leaning against Rog. “Honestly, I don't know yet. Let me string you along for the night, at least."

The dragon grunted, cocking his head. “I hope you're not planning to…" He cocked his head. “How did you so eloquently phrase it earlier? Put your boot in my nuts?"

A hint of a smile cracked Nira's otherwise stoic façade. “Depends on how much more you piss me off. Though it might help you learn your damn lesson if the medics had to inspect those, too."

Amelia laughed. “Who would that inspection be punishing more, the dragon, or the medics?"

Nira chuckled but her smile faded just as swiftly as it arrived. “Either way, Malaresh, now I damn sure expect you to fly us to The Emplacement."

“Ugh." The dragon groaned. “That again? I suppose I have fewer grounds upon which to decline, now."

“Damn right. But…" Nira trailed off, deciding to cut the dragon some slack for the moment. “It's late, you're in pain, I'm angry…we'll talk about in the morning. Before I send you back to your chambers, though…did it work?"

Malaresh tilted his head. “Did what work?" The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of the dragon's mouth.

Nira only glared at him. “Not in the mood, Dragon. Don't play coy. You sent everyone out of the room so you could try your dragon mind games on the gryphon. So spit it out. Is he telling the truth? Can we trust him?"

“Yeah, lizard." Amelia nudged the tip of his tail with her boot. “Did your dragon tricks work, or what?"

“To an extent."

“Alright, then Dragon. Let's hear it. Give me something useful, and maybe I'll consider you punished enough already."

“Very well." Malaresh arched his neck. “I believe the gryphon's defection is genuine, but I am not certain how completely we can trust him. Because…" The dragon splayed his frills out, his tail tip twitching. “I do not believe he is being wholly truthful about the reasons for his defection."

Nira took a slow, deep breath. She should have known better than to hope for a simple, concrete answer. Still, she'd take what she could get. “I'm guessing you plan to elaborate in a vaguely mysterious, roundabout way, just so you can hold it over my head a little while longer?" When the dragon only smiled at her, Nira sighed, waving her hand. “Alright then, go ahead."

Malaresh licked his nose, collecting his thoughts. After a few breaths, he began. “Do you know what I saw, when I stared into his eyes?" Malaresh stretched a single wing out, gesturing with it in a sweeping motion. “Hatred. Anger, and hatred."

Nira scowled as she paced before the dragon. “I don't like the sound of that."

“You say that as if I wouldn't see the same thing in your eyes." Malaresh lowered his head towards her, flicking his wing tip at Jirril. “Or his." He pointed with it to Rog, and Amelia too. “Or his, or hers, or everyone else on this rattling deathtrap."

Nira drummed her fingers against the handle of her pistol. “What do you mean?"

“The Union," Jirril said. The blue and gray gryphon sat near Malaresh, his feathered tail draped across the dragon's scaly one. “He's talking about the Golden Union, right?" Jirril tilted his head back to look up at Malaresh.

“Yes." The dragon offered the gryphon a little stroke with his outstretched wing. “I am. After all, what does everyone on his ship hate more than anything else?"

“Sittin' on your nuts?" Rog grimaced, flattening back his ears. “I hate when that happens."

Amelia laughed, glancing at the gnoll. “Not all of his have to worry about that, Rog. I'd say, drinking so much you spend the next day puking till you're just, dry heaving." She paused, then shook her head. “No, wait, I don't hate the drinking part. Just the puking, and heaving. I bet everyone hates that, right?"

Princess Nira pinched the bridge of her nose. “I get that you're trying to diffuse the tension, but let's just be serious for a moment."

“Oh, yeah." The gnoll cleared his throat with a growl, then focused on picking a few tangles out of his tail fur. “Definitely what I was doing. Just…diffusing the tension."

Nira slugged him on the shoulder.

“The gnoll's humorous anatomical troubles aside…" Malaresh rumbled, thumping his spined tail against the floor. “Everyone aboard this ship hates the Golden Union, probably more than anything else. And the hatred I saw in Alakor's eyes was the same. The more I brought them up, the hotter those flames burned."

“So you believe his defection to be genuine, because you believe he despises the Golden Union as much as the rest of us." Nira pivoted on her heel to face the dragon again. “Is that the gist of it?"

Malaresh nodded once in a single, slow motion. “He mentioned to me that he's used to being hurt." The dragon cringed, flattening his ears and frills. “Alakor made it sound as if being beaten was a regular occurrence, and he was…simply grateful to be allowed the privilege of fighting back, for once. Given the cruelty and spiteful bullshit the Union already espouses towards anything they consider a 'monster', and the things they do to their non-human captives…"

The dragon trailed off. Ghosts drifted behind his emerald eyes, and his jaws trembled, a rare display of fear and uncertainty. The dragon swiftly looked away from everyone else, as if to hide his own momentary vulnerability. Jirril shifted positions to lay against the dragon, and offer him gentle comfort. While the gryphon nuzzled at the dragon, Nira turned towards her other friends to give Malaresh and Jirril a private moment.

It was the Golden Union that Nira and her crew saved Malaresh from in the first place. The Union had captured him just after the end of the war. They held him a while, perhaps trying to break him, and force him into serving their people. Or more likely, she thought, they planned to keep him alive just long enough to stage a grand public execution. He certainly would not have been the first 'demon' they'd put down in a public display meant to cow the other non-humans, and rally their own misguided supporters. Whatever the case, Malaresh was in rough shape when they first rescued him. Wounds both old and new littered his body, at the time. Most of them were faded now, dark scars against darker hide. They'd never spoken in detail about the things his captors inflicted upon him, nor did Nira plan to. She sure was hell wasn't going to make the dragon recount what she could only imagine must have been horrific experiences.

Nira stepped forward to pat the dragon's neck. “I think we can safely assume Alakor's telling the truth about being beaten by his former masters." She stroked Malaresh's scales. “The girls made it pretty clear to me that the Union is known for beating their snow gryphons into submission, and for brainwashing them into accepting it. I'd sure as hell want to get the hell away from that, too."

“As would I," Malaresh said, finally returning his attention to the others. He opened draped his half-open wing across Jirril's back. “I do not believe we need to worry that he still serves the Union. He does not. Nor is he knowingly leading us into a trap. Those things were clear to me, despite the fact he is trained in deception, and in hiding truths." The dragon tapped unsheathed claw tips against the floor. “There are some things that simply cannot be hidden from my kind. When the truth is written within your eyes, a dragon will always find it."

Nira paced again, striding back and forth between Malaresh and her other friends. “And yet, you said he's not being truthful about the reasons for that defection. I don't suppose you found out what those reasons were?"

Malaresh snorted, easing himself down onto his belly alongside the gryphon. “I can tell when he's being deceptive, Nira, but his thoughts are not written upon his eyes like old script carved into a wall."

“Of course not." She turned towards the dragon, trying to remain patient. “But you have suspicious, I assume?"

“The white bird told me he is defecting to our ship because he refuses to be a slave, any longer." Malaresh circled a paw in the air. “And because he wishes to be treated, in his words, like a person. He believes this ship was afford him that."

Nira glanced at her friends. “Which it will. Because he is a person. But…" She clenched her jaw. “There's more, isn't there?"

Malaresh only shrugged his wings. “Imagine yourself in his place. Your life spend doing the Union's bidding, trying to avoid another beating, watching your species be treated as nothing more than animals to be sent, headlong, into the fire. If you saw a chance to escape, would you not take it?"

“Of course." Nira crossed her arms. Something didn't add up, and her mind was already trying to piece the puzzle together, even as Malaresh went on.

“So why isn't he escaping?" The dragon's voice took on a sharp edge. “Why doesn't he flee, while he has the chance?"

“What do you mean?" Nira studied the dragon's face, his eyes, looking for any clues to what he was thinking. “He is escaping. He's escaping the Union, by joining us."

Malaresh only tilted his head, his frills lifted. “Is that what you'd call this?"

Nira heaved a growling sigh, wishing the dragon would just get to the damn point. She hated it when he knew something she didn't, because there was nothing she could do to stop him from lording it over her as long as he wished. “Dragon, will you just skip to the end?"

“Earlier…" Malaresh slowly lifted his head, urgency creeping into his voice, bit by bit. “You told me that Alakor believes the Union considers you a threat, again, and that they may be considering an attempt on your life. Correct?"

Something icy skittered down Nira's spine, and left her shuddering. “Yes."

“Interesting." Malaresh unsheathed a few claws, studying them. “If I was a snow gryphon looking to escape the Union, I'd fly towards the Broken Teeth, I think. Try and get as far away from Union controlled lands as I could, as quickly as possible."

“That's…" Nira glanced at Rog and Amelia, both of whom shrugged. “That's the way he told us to go, though."

“That's the way anyone would go. From this area, it's the easiest way to leave the Union behind. So…" The dragon set his paw back down, claws retracted. “If all he wants is escape, why didn't he go there? If he left weeks ago, he'd already be out of Union lands. He'd already be free. If all he wanted was to escape the Union, he'd have already done it. Instead, he came here."

“Shit." Nira rubbed her forehead as the pieces all started coming together. “That's why he's defecting. He doesn't want to flee them, he wants to fight them."

Malaresh smiled, bowing his head to her. “He wants to fight them. This gryphon is filled with as much hatred for the Union as I am, maybe even more so. And he knows their operations, he knows their plans, he knows their people. And that's why he's defecting. He's joining with the strongest ship in all the world, just in time for his old masters to try and kill its captain. He doesn't want escape, he wants revenge. If he says they're coming for you, then they're coming for you, Nira."

“Shit, shit shit." Nira ran her hands down her face. It had been nearly a decade since she'd sworn off the war, sworn off revenge for her parents, sworn off being an Empress. “So…we do like he said, and, head for the Broken Teeth, before the Union…" Nira trailed off, stomping a boot. “Fuck! They're already there, aren't they? The Union. Looking for him! You said it yourself, everyone would expect him to go that way. I bet that's why there were Union ships at the Emplacement, too. They're looking for their runaway spy."

“Indeed." Malaresh rumbled, as if pleased she'd finally caught up to his thinking. “I believe there is a trap being set, and Alakor is leading us towards it. But the trap is not meant for us."

“It's meant for his old masters," Nira said, balling up her fists. “We are the fucking trap."

“Well, shit." Amelia folded her arms, glaring at the dragon as if he'd somehow created the situation. After a moment, she told towards the Princess. “So what do we do?"

Rog growled. “I say we wreck shit up."

Nira ground a fist into her palm, clenching her jaw. “If Alakor's telling the truth about the Union wanting to come after me, then it doesn't matter what we do. They'll be coming for us, sooner or later. If we turn away from the Teeth, there's only so far we can fly till we're back in Union controlled lands, anyway. We've been avoiding this as long as we can, because I don't want to put any of you in danger, but…"

“If hell's coming, Princess, then it's coming." Amelia put a hand on Nira's shoulder, gently squeezing. “Even you can't hold back the storm, forever." She tilted her head towards Rog. “So let's do like the gnoll says, and go wreck some shit."

Nira couldn't help but laugh at that, thankful for her friends comfort, and support. “I suppose I did promise Rog a trip to the Emplacement, anyway."

“Damn right you did."

“Alright, alright." Nira held her hands up. “We'll stick with out plan of heading to the Emplacement, and try to find out why they may be pursuing us again. But I want to talk to Alakor before that…see if we can squeeze any more information out of him."

Amelia held up her hands, and slowly made two fists. “Just tell me what to squeeze."

“I was thinking metaphorical squeezing, but we'll see how cooperative he is when we confront him with our suspicions." She dropped her hands down, resting them on her pistols. “I'm sure as hell not getting into a war on his behalf, but…we already expected we might have to deal with some Union muscle, and guns, so if he wants to kick a few asses, I'm not sure not going to stop him." She ground her teeth a moment, then glanced at the dragon. “I think that's all I have for you tonight. Go get some rest. I'll have some food sent by, after the medics have been around. For now, I'll defer any further punishments."

“That is appreciated. Good night then, Princess." Malaresh pushed himself up to his paws. “Come along, bird." Then he gently bit down on the back of Jirril's neck, tugging the gryphon up to his paws by his scruff. Malaresh padded down the hall, dragging the stumbling, protesting gryphon along with him.

When they were gone, Amelia gave Nira a sudden, forceful hug. It caught her off guard, but the comfort was certainly appreciated. Nira returned the hug, holding Amelia tightly for several long moments. Amelia rubbed her back, speaking gently into her ear.

“I know you wanna keep us all safe, Nira. But we're all a part of this thing, too. These decisions, these fights, these moments in your life? They don't ever have to be yours, and yours alone." Amelia hugged her tight, before pulling away and simply holding her hands. “We're all in this without." A smile tugged at her lips. “We might only be a buncha peasants, but everyone on this ship is behind you. And…whatever comes next, I'm…I'm always here for you." She tilted her head towards Rog, standing nearby. “We're all here for you."

“Thank you, Amelia." Nira squeezed her hands. “That…that means everything, to me. I…I know you're all there, but…it's nice to hear it spoken, sometimes."

“Of course." Amelia let her hands fall away from the Princess', then put them on her hips, grinning. “Just don't forget it. Princess, Captain, whatever you wanna be called, you don't always gotta make these decisions on your own. I joke around a lot, but…I hope you know I'm here for you, if you need me. And you need a serious talk about what we're gonna do, I'm all for it. Any time you need it."

“I know, Amelia, and thank you for that, too." She took a breath, and then waved down the hall. “I think, for now, I'm going to get a little drunk, and flop into bed. You'd better go make sure Alakor's not giving the girls too much trouble."

“What if he's givin' 'em something else?" Amelia laughed, taking a few steps down the corridor.

“Then I guess they've decided he can be trusted!" Nira laughed with her. “Make sure the medics check him over, though, and for now, don't bring up what we discussed tonight. When the medics are done with Alakor, take them to see Malaresh. I don't want that lizard wriggling out of this without an examination."

“Got it." Amelia waved. “See you in the morning, Princess. Try not to be too hung over."

“No promises." Nira turned towards Rog, the only one left in the hallways with her. “Plans for the rest of the night, Rog?"

“For the night?" The gnoll scratched at his ruff. “Whatever you need me to do."

“I think we're good, actually." Nira ran her hands back through her hair, sighing. “Been a hell of a day."

“Yup." Rog swished his tail a bit, scrunching up his muzzle in vain attempt to stifle a yawn. “Probably oughta just sleep."

“Probably." Nira circled an arm around the gnoll's waist, flashing him a mischievous grin. “How about instead of that, you escort Her Royal Highness back to her room, and help her get…" She paused, grimacing at her own impending wordplay. “Royally shitfaced?"

“Love to." Rog scrunched his muzzle. “But I'm gonna drink till I forget that pun."

“That's my Guard Captain." Nira leaned against the gnoll, smiling. “Lead the way."

*****

That's all for now! Thank you so much for reading! Don't forget that FAVE button if you enjoyed it! And as always, PLEASE leave a comment! Let me know your thoughts on the story so far, the world, tell me what you think of all the characters, if you have any favorite characters so far, all that good stuff! Stay tuned for part two!