Princess of Beasts - Chapter Twenty Two (Patreon)

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Chapter Twenty Two

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Nira left Malaresh at the entryway to the observation deck, and strode inside alone. More an enclosed patio than actual deck, it was a place  where the crew could go and watch the sky above, and the earth below. Tall, thick glass plates in brass frames spanned the outer wall in immense, rectangular windows. Their thickness distorted the view a bit, but provided additional stability. Sunlight streaming through the windows all day left the room warmer than the adjoining corridor, despite being up against the colder outside air. A single door locked with sturdy bolts provided access to a smaller, exterior balcony ringed with tall railings, for those who wished to take in the air, or an undistorted view. Several sets of tables and chairs were lined up along the deck, along with a trio of padded gryphon loungers. 

Alakor rested atop one of the loungers, more focused on the furniture than the view. The massive gryphon barely fit atop it, nearly hanging off at both ends. He brushed his paw back and forth several times, first across the sturdy, dark wood, then against the faded maroon upholstery covering them. The gryphon chirruped to himself, stroking a single pad over a line of threadbare golden stitching. He turned his head, inspecting scratches and gouges in the wood left from years of gryphons climbing into and out of the loungers. The girls and Jirril used to come down here a lot, Nira thought, since it was near the only promenade designed for easy gryphon access. 

“Never got to lay in a chair like this before.” Alakor stroked the upholstery again as Nira approached him. “Lounger, I suppose they call it.” He clicked his beak. “Never even saw something like this until I was stationed in formerly Empire lands. The Golden Union sure as hell never built anything like this.” The gryphon flattened his ears. “Furniture is for people, you know. We barely even had a place to sleep. Some animal hides, tossed on the floor, or some oversized hound’s bed, alongside ten more just like it, sleeping wings to wings in some drafty barn. We certainly never got chairs.” 

Nira dragged a chair away from its table, and pulled it up alongside the gryphon lounger. “You must really hate them.” She eased down into it, resting her elbow over the chair’s back. “The Union, I mean.” 

“Is that what this is about?” Alakor glanced at her. For the briefest of moments, anger and resentment danced in his eyes in roiling blue ways. Then the gryphon blinked and the look was gone, and he turned his head away just as quickly. “How much I hate my former masters?” 

“I suspect you know what this is about.” Nira watched the gryphon closely. Some small draft, squeezing in from somewhere, ruffled his white feathers. The black tips of his wings fluttered in random order, stirred by the unseen breeze. When Alakor didn’t respond, Nira answered for him. “Malaresh and I don’t think you’re here because you want to escape the Union. We think you’re here because you want revenge on them.”

The gryphon did not flinch, or flatten his ears, or shift his weight. He merely stared out the thick glass windows, unperturbed. After a few breaths, he turned his attention to Malaresh. The dragon waited by the entryway, settled onto his haunches and silently observing. “Could either of you blame me if I was?”

“No.” Nira leaned forward in her chair, gesturing for the gryphon’s attention. She wanted him focused on her, not Malaresh. “But I could damn sure blame you for trying to manipulate me and my ship.” 

“I haven’t been manipulating you.” The gryphon swished his tail, but it was a casual, idly gesture, not a nervous one. 

“Oh no?” Nira clenched her jaw. “What do you call it, then, when you suggest which way we should go, make it seem like it’s our best option, despite knowing full well there’s going to be Union ships there? Ships looking for you, that you might well have a vested interest in seeing shot from the skies.” 

Alakor shifted his wings, more than a twitch but less than a shrug. “I call it your best option. There’s a fleet, behind you. There’s another fleet to the north. The Union is making a show of force to all the lands on its borders, to ensure their neighbors know they’d be better off as the Union’s puppets than their enemies. But if you head towards the teeth, there’s no fleet there, at least not yet. There’s recon ships, there’s spy hunters, there’s intelligence vessels, there may even be a destroyer or two.” The gryphon fluffed up his feathers. “But there’s not a fleet there. It is your best option.”

Nira leaned forward to grasp one of the long, black-tipped flight feathers lining Alakor’s wings. “It just so happens to be your best option at a little revenge too, does it?” Before the gryphon could reply, she yanked the feather free. 

“Ow!” The gryphon jerked, hissing at her. “Don’t do that!” 

Malaresh snorted amusement, somewhere behind Nira.

The princess twirled the large feather around her fingers, ignoring Alakor’s protest. “Those ships you mentioned, they’re looking for you, aren’t they? They know which way a runaway spy would go to flee the Union, and now you want to lead us right to them, to get us to blow them out of the sky for you.” 

Alakor shook his wing, wincing. “Now that you mention it, that would helpful.” 

“How is that not manipulating us?” Nira grit her teeth, squeezing the feather. 

“I prefer to think of it as sharing mutual interests.” The gryphon stretched his wing forward, inspecting it. “That was a damn flight feather, you know.” 

“That’s why I plucked it!” Nira shook the feather at him. “There’s plenty more to yank out if I don’t like your answers, or your attitude.”

Alakor folded his wing back again, sighing. “I’m answering your questions, am I not? Leave my poor plumage alone.” 

“You’re dancing around them, more like.” Nira leaned back, running her thumb against the feather. “You really are a damn spy.” 

“So I’m told.” Alakor flicked his tail towards Nira’s chair. “Besides, you don’t sound like you want answers. You sound like you want to yell at me, and tell me why you think I’m here. You’re welcome to yell, if screaming at me will help matters.” He pulled his wing tighter. “Just don’t pluck any more feathers, please.” 

“I didn’t want to scream at you before, but I’m starting to.” Nira rested her elbow on the back of the chair again. “I’m guessing you get that a lot.”

“From time to time.” Alakor shifted his weight on the lounger, flattening his ears. “Though when it was my older masters doing the yelling, there was usually a beating on the way, too.” 

Nira rubbed her forehead, scowling. She certainly did not begrudge the gryphon his desire for revenge, but she also did not appreciate his manipulations and non-answers. Nira wondered if he just felt safer keeping all his cards closer to his chest, as it were. “I’m not going to beat you, Alakor.” She sighed, leaning her head back. “But you have to be honest with me if this has any chance of working. I’ve told Malaresh and the others I plan to give you a chance to prove I can trust you. Potentially, to prove yourself in battle, as well. But none of that can happen if I feel like you’re constantly hiding things, or manipulating me.” She straightened up again, staring hard at the gryphon. “That makes sense, right? You have to understand why I need you to be perfectly truthful with me.” 

“Of course it makes sense.” Alakor waved a paw. “And from my perspective, I wouldn’t want to serve a captain I felt was easily manipulatable, either. Or a captain who was unwilling to listen to her advisers, or her crew members, or some dragon with his fancy dragon mind tricks. So I’m glad you’re asking these questions.” 

Nira stared at the gryphon, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, she tapped the feather against the chair’s armrest. “Is there were you tell me this was all some kind of test, to see if I’m a worthy enough captain for you to serve? To find out if I can see through that sort of manipulation?”

Alakor warbled laughter. That wasn’t really the reaction she expected. “No, not at all. Though I rather wish it was, that would have been clever. No, your highness, this is where I tell there are some things I’m just not comfortable discussing with you yet.” He tilted his head, gazing at Malaresh. “Or your especially large protector. Which, I suspect leaves us at an impasse, of sorts.”

“That’s not how this works, Alakor.” Nira tossed his feather on the ground. “You’re defecting to my ship. You don’t get to keep secrets, or try and manipulate me. You tell me the truth, and you tell me all of it, or I deny your defection.” 

“And then I toss you off the ship.” Malaresh thumped his tail against the floor, spines scratching at the wood. 

Nira shot the dragon a silencing glare, but did not deny his threat.

“That would be your right as captain, of course.” Alakor stretched a forepaw, gazing at it. “Even if you decide to toss me off the ship, I still recommend you head for the Broken Teeth, if it’s safe skies you want. I don’t think the Union will pursue you out beyond the Sunken Seas, or the Boiling Abyss. Of course…” He pulled his paw back. “You probably couldn’t ever come back. In a few years, they’re likely to have the whole continent, if no one really stands up to them. But if you want is somewhere safe to fly your ship, and hide your crew, cross the seas, or the Abyss, I suppose. If you can make it far enough, to another continent, maybe you can get Diandrios to take you in. Or…” He waggled his paw. “Or that dragon empire. Malaresh ought to like that.” 

Nira ran her hands down her face. “You’re fucking infuriating, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” 

“I don’t want to leave the whole continent behind. At least, not permanently.” 

“Why not?” Alakor swung his head around at her to gaze at her, his blue eyes piercing deep into her soul. “You’ve given up on your Empire, haven’t you? The Union continues its expansion. If you’re not going to stand up to them-”

“Shut your beak right there!” Nira shot to her feet, balling up her fists. “I’m not going to risk the lives of everyone on this ship fighting a war I cannot win! I already told you that. This ship’s powerful, yes, but it wasn’t powerful enough to save the capital, was it? No!” She jabbed her finger at the gryphon. “It helped to down a fleet, but how many more did they have? How many fleets do they have now?”

“Twelve.” Alakor’s voice was flat. “Eight of their own, and four that they’ve added in the last decade, due to mutual protection truces with neighboring nations. The truces are, of course, weighted in their favor. No one’s going to dare attack a Union ally now, but the Union can call up their neighbor’s army to do their own bidding any time they want.”

Nira heaved a sigh, dropping back into chair. The anger and the fight in her rushed out as swiftly as it came, leaving a cold emptiness behind. “See? There’s nothing we could do against them, anyway.” 

“Then why haven’t you already left the continent for good?” Alakor gestured with a sweeping motion of his wing. “You’ve wandered beyond it, to the ports and smaller continents, to the pirate hubs and dangerous places, but always you return.” 

“Because the weather here-”

Alakor held up a paw, cutting her off. “You’re going to say the weather here makes it easy to hide a ship this size. That you can drift through the nearly ever-present clouds over this part of the world, skirt by the mountains. And that you can access all the pirate ports, unaffiliated city states, and all the little black market areas you to go resupply the ship.” The gryphon dropped his paw down. “But every nation, every continent has black markets, and piracy, and places for them to hide. Hell, the islands that dot the Abyss, and port city-states in the Sunken Sea make better hiding places than clouds. Hell, there’s entire cities out there, practically lawless. A ship like this, a crew like yours, you could take over, if you wanted. But you don’t.” Alakor shook his head. “You always come back here.”

Nira settled her hands on her lap. She turned her head, staring out the window. “How the hell did you turn this conversation around on me?” 

A smile parted Alakor’s beak. “I’m good at what I do, Nira.” 

“So it seems.” She stared towards the sun. The crystalline windows diffused its red-gold brilliance, and gave it a fuzzy, shimmering halo. “How long have you been watching us?”

“Me personally?” Alakor flexed his wings in a shrug. “Long enough. But the Union’s been watching you since you freed him, at least.” He waved a wing towards Malaresh, who grunted. “Hell, the Union’s probably tried to track you since you first fled the capital. I’m not the only Snow Gryphon they’ve had keeping tabs on you. And there’s been ships, spies in ports, information purchased from places like The Emplacement, and on and on. You’re one of the biggest threats left, in their eyes. They’ve watched you whenever they can, they’ve logged every movement they’ve known about, they’ve watched your ship come, and go. Every time you play your little hide and seek games with their patrols, every time you fire warning shots or engaged in battle, every raid you’re undertaken, it’s been logged and filed. And so have their thoughts on you, Nira. Do you know what their consensus is? Why they believe you’ll never truly leave the continent? Why they think you’ll always be a threat to them?” 

Nira folded her arms, shifting her weight. “My sister.” 

“That’s part of it, yes.” Alakor flicked his tail a few times. “But the concept they keep returning to is simpler still. That land out there, to the west? Where the Empire once stood? That’s your home. And no matter how you come to love this ship, or any city you may set foot in? That land back there remains your home. They don’t believe you’ll ever truly leave it. You’ve had ten tears to fly this ship across the world, to find somewhere safe, and never come back. But you haven’t. And that speaks volumes, Nira, to me, and to the Union.” 

Nira swallowed. The gryphons words cut far closer to her heart than she cared to admit. “Is that why they’re suddenly thinking about trying to kill me, again? Gave me time to run away, and when they realized I wasn’t going to do it, decided to eliminate me before I came after them again?”

Alakor held up his forepaws, pads up. “I would forewarn you, before you continue down that line of questioning, that I can only offer speculation as to the reasons they wish to track you down. We are given orders, and we overhear orders, but rarely are even the most trusted snow gryphons afford the reasoning why.” 

“I understand that.” Nira took a breath, and held it. When her lungs ached, she let out a long sigh. “They are planning to try and kill me again, though, right? You were telling the truth about that?”

“There have been considerations to issue covert kill or captures for you, your crew, and your ship, for sometime now. It is my understanding that one way or another, those orders have been pushed forward, yes.”

“Pushed forward?” Nira ran a hand back through her hair. “Am I ever going to get a straight answer from you? Will we ever have a conversation where I ask you questions, and you just give me simple, concrete answers?” 

Alakor only smiled, his ears perked. “Probably not.”

“That’s what I thought.” Nira tilted her head back, staring up to where the brass frames of the windows met the dark wooden ceiling. “Alright then, in your opinion, why are they suddenly interested in killing me again?” She thumped her boot heel against the floor. “And don’t bullshit me with some long, roundabout answer.” 

“Very well.” Alakor cleared his throat with a guttural noise, half-growl, half low warble. “First, they fear that you may attempt to unify the remaining nations and city-states into a singular army to stand against the next stage of their expansion. Apparently, you’ve become a sort of…folk hero, to some of them. Second, they want your ship, and all the secrets it holds. Not only is it a formidable weapon unto itself, but there are technological advances present on this vessel that they not yet been able to replicate. And some of the theories about the origin of such technology are…well…” Alakor chirruped, prickling up his crown feathers. “Shall we say, otherworldly?” 

Nira shivered, turning her eyes away. There were things on the ship she couldn’t explain, things no one else had seen. But she was not about to talk to Alakor about that. “Sounds like nonsense, to me.”

“And yet you shuddered when I mentioned it.” The gryphon sharpened his tone, his eyes once more boring into her. “I think you know what I’m talking about.” He tilted his head, ever so slightly. “Is it true?”

Nira forced herself to meet his gaze, and offer him a smile. “Is what true?” When the gryphon only clicked his beak, Nira waved at him as if brushing aside the very idea. “So are those your two best theories, or have you others?” 

“I have another, but I don’t think you’d like it.” The gryphon softened his voice, laying his crown feathers back down. “It involves your sister.” 

Nira sucked in a breath before she could stop herself. “What about her?” 

“Did you know they’d made her Empress?” 

Something crumbled inside Nira, a warm bulkwark against a cold truth she fought so hard to ignore. In the last years of the Empire, she scarcely saw her sister. Tryn was a good deal younger than Nira, and still taking her lessons and studies while Nira was busy drinking with Rog, and learning to shoot and fight. Yet Nira loved her just the same, and longed for what might have been, had the Empire not been destroyed. When she thought too hard about it, her heart ached for what never was, and what might have been. The laughter they could have shared in taverns when Tyrn was older, the heartbreak they might have consoled one another over, the adventures they might indulged on, when they snuck away together. None of those things came to pass, and Nira sometimes longed for all that never was. 

“I know.” Nira forced her words through her suddenly dry mouth. “They made her their puppet, to try and quell the anger. That was…part of the truce, actually. When they agreed to stop pursing me, if I’d stop fighting them. They offered to ostensibly allow the heart of the empire to maintain a certain amount of self-rule, with Tryn as the new empress. Doing so would also help calm the city, and give the lingering rebellion and freedom fighters an excuse to melt away. She was only ever going to be a puppet, of course. Tryn’s a smart girl…smart woman now, I’m sure. She’ll do what they want her to, tell the people what they want her to, but only because she knows the alternative would be even worse.” 

The gryphon nodded once. “Do you want to hear my theory? If it’s too painful-”

“Tell me.” Nira blinked burning eyes, wiping away a few unshed tears. 

“There are rumors that she’s going to try and reach out to you. Perhaps she even has, already.” 

Nira straightened in an instant. “No! No, she can’t!” She smacked a fist against the chair. “She absolutely can’t! It’ll only put her in danger.” 

“Exactly.” The gryphon turned his paw over, exposing the pads. “If you’re alive, and you think she’s in danger, would you not try to save her?” 

“Is she in danger?” Nira leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the gryphon.

In the decade since she’d first fled the city, she did what she could to convince herself that Tryn was gone, forever. Part of it was selfish. If she thought of her sister as dead, it was easier to deal with never seeing her again. But the other part of it was to protect her crew. If there was anything that might convince Nira to break her own promise, and return to actively fighting the Empire, it would be to save her sister’s life.

“I don’t think so, no.” Alakor shook his head, slowly. “The Union knew you’d find out she was Empress, eventually. Word spreads, after all. Just as they know that if something happened to her, that would likely be the one thing that put you back on the vengeful path. But that doesn’t mean she won’t try to fight them, herself, in her own way. As I said, there are rumors she has attempted to reach out to you, and will attempt to do so again. You, your ship, and your crew, would make quite a shadow army for a rebellious puppet to wield against her masters.” 

“And if they kill me themselves, then they won’t have to worry about what Tryn might try and ask me to do.” Nira pressed a fist to her mouth, grimacing. “Shit.” 

The gryphon shrugged his wings. “It’s a possibility. It’s also possible they wish to capture you alive, specifically to use you to further bend your sister to their will. Hell, perhaps they’d even offer to make you their new Empress, make use of that folk hero status. All in exchange for Tryn’s freedom…or her life.”

Nira’s eyes widened. “You don’t think they’d use her to try and force my surrender, do you? That kind of thing always seemed…off-limits, even for them.” 

“Because if they executed her, they’d be facing a full scale rebellion again.” The gryphon flicked his tail, splaying his ears. “One they would eventually crush, but…they’d lose a lot of people, over a long period of time. But if they’d already captured you, they could use you two against each other, one way or another.” Alakor held his paws up to her. “Remember, however, that these are only theories. It is entirely possible they just wish to eliminate someone they perceive as a threat, and claim a powerful weapon for themselves.”

Nira ran her hands down her face. “Or all of the fucking above.” She dropped her hands into her lap with a bitter laugh. “You know, I came in here to interrogate you, and somehow I feel like you’ve interrogated me, instead.” 

“Oh?” Alakor twisted his head around, preening a wing. “And here I thought I’ve been dutifully answering your questions.” 

“While also getting me to ramble on about myself,” Nira said. “And my sister, and plenty of other things, too.” 

“That’s what I do.” Alakor rearranged a few more feathers. “I wouldn’t have earned near enough trust as a spy to have a chance to flee the Union, if I wasn’t good at my job.”

Nira settled a hand on her pistol. “I oughta just shoot you, and be done with it.” 

Alakor only grunted. “I’d really rather you didn’t.” 

“Then you’d better be awfully straight me with.” Nira circled her fingers around the handle of her weapon. “Because so far, even when you give me an answer, it somehow turns into a long, in depth discussion that veers away from the original question.” 

“Like I said.” Alakor settled his wing back. “I’m good at what I do. Go on then, what else do you want to ask?”

“Did you pick this moment to defect, precisely because you heard the Empire was going to attack me? Yes, or no?”

“That’s part of-”

“Yes?” Nira repeated the options, sharper this time. “Or no?” Though she knew the truth was surely more nuanced than that, she wanted to force the gryphon to commit to an answer, one way or another.

Alakor stared at her, unblinking. “Yes.”

“And did you send us towards the Broken Teeth, precisely because some of your former masters are likely to be there already, looking for?” 

“Yes.” 

“So, you’ve set a trap for the Union, and we’re the trap?” 

The gryphon tilted his head. “Yes.” 

“We’re going to The Emplacement, first.” Nira pulled her hand away from her gun. She’d never planned to fire on the gryphon, and she knew Alakor realized that. But she enjoyed the feel of the weapon in her hand at times like this, just the same. “Shall I assume that there will also be Union members looking for you there, as well?” 

A smile parted the gryphon’s beak. “Yes.” 

“Then I guess you’ll get your chance for revenge, after all.” Nira stood up, walking to the windows. “You can blink, now.” 

“Why thank you, your highness!” 

Nira chuckled at the gryphon’s sarcasm. She put her hand to the window. Despite the warmth of the room, the pane itself felt cold. “I suppose I can safely assume you’re still hiding something from me, as well.” 

The gryphon shook himself, feathers ruffled. “Probably a great number of somethings.”

Nira grimaced, but did not look back. “I suppose I won’t be able to pry those secrets out of you with anything short of torture. At least, not until you trust me.” 

“You say that as if you think torture would break me.” Alakor idly stroked the cushion of the lounger he rested upon. “Been tortured before, you know. And trained to withstand it. Besides, if it’s trust you seek, torture is certainly not the way to build it.” 

“You can keep your secrets, for now.” Nira glanced over her shoulder at the gryphon. “Until you trust me enough to spill them. But, if they’re the kind of secrets that end up getting my crew killed? Then you’re going to wish we’d just shot you in the first place.” 

Alakor bowed his head. “To the best of my knowledge, they are not.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“Some of the secrets I speak of may pertain to this ship’s more unusual technologies.” Alakor waggled a few claws at her. “Which you will not tell me about, and I will not speak directly about, because neither of us wishes to reveal how much we know.” He stretched his wings. “Or don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer!” Nira glared at him a moment, grinding her teeth. “You’re just asking to get kicked in the balls again.”

“Can I ask not to be kicked in the balls, again?”

Nira turned back towards the window. “You’re fast approaching the point of no return on that one.” 

Alakor shifted behind her, feathers rustling. “Suppose that’s a line I’d best get used to treading.”

Nira rested her hand against the glass, its chill settling into her fingers. “Just swear to me that none of your secrets will get anyone on my crew killed.” She swallowed, tapping her fingers on the cool surface. “And neither will lack of knowledge of them.” 

“I cannot do so.” The gryphon’s voice was soft, and Nira thought she sensed a pang of regret hidden somewhere behind his words, a guilty whisper coiling around his tongue. “Because I cannot say so, for certain. Nor can I built your trust in me by lying to you.” 

“So you’re being honest, by telling me you’re holding things back.” Nira sighed, wondering if the guilt she thought she heard was real, or all in her mind. “I suppose that’s something.” 

“Would you rather I lied to you?” The gryphon made a chirping noise that sounded suspiciously derisive. “You’d be awfully angry when you found out I wasn’t truthful.”

Nira balled up her hand and thumped her fist against the window. “You haven’t be truthful!” 

“I have not lied to you.” Something new crept into the gryphon’s voice, some , angry, long-smoldering coal he’d kept hidden till now. “I made a calculated choice to be as honest with you as I can, without divulging every little bit of knowledge I possess, every advantage I may hold. I understand quite well that I must earn you trust, and I assure you, I wish to do just that.” He slapped his forepaw against the lounger, hissing. “But you have to earn mine, too!”

“Suppose that’s fair.” Nira rubbed her hands together, trying to warm the one she’d pressed to the glass. “Normally, I think a military defector brings intelligence of value, important secrets about his enemies. Otherwise he’s just…” She shrugged. “A refugee.” Nira glanced back at the gryphon. “Mind you, I’d take on a refugee, too. I’d just…probably take you somewhere safe, and drop you off.” 

“I have given you valuable information.” Alakor watched her through narrowed blue eyes, his ears flat. When she turned away, impatience stretched his voice a little more than before. “I told you they’re going to be hunting you, and I told you the best course to plot to escape them.” 

“You told me the best course to plot to allow you some revenge, anyway.” She dropped her hands down, grinding her teeth. 

“Those things are not mutually exclusive.” Feathers rustled again. “I’m sure you realize that if you are going to have to battle the Union again, you rather do so at a time and place of your choosing, than theirs. You do not want to be woken in the middle of the night by alarms, and discover you’ve been surrounded by an entire fleet.”

“Of course not. And I do appreciate what you’ve told us, though I can only assume it to be the truth, for now.” Nira turned back to the gryphon, folding her arms. “Though I’d like to think, for everyone’s sake, they wouldn’t be foolish enough to bring one of their fleets after us again.”

Alakor lifted his head, stretching his black wings out at their sides. “Do not underestimate them.” 

Nira shook her head. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not. I don’t want to have to fight one ship, let alone a dozen. But if worst came to worst, and they forced the battle upon us, it would not go well for them this time, either.” 

The gryphon slowly, deliberately tilted his head. “I assure you, Princess, they are well aware of how their previous encounters with this vessel went. That is one of the reasons I suspect they want it for themselves, after all. But do not grow complacent, for they have learned much from their losses. Their newest generation of vessels, and those beyond? They might not be able to outgun you, but they will outfly you, and soon, they will out-range you.” The gryphon swept his wing out, gesturing at the ship’s walls. “What good will all those guns do you, if you are unable to close the distance enough for your rounds to strike home? What will you do if their bombardments are blasting through your armor, bit by bit, while you cannot fire far enough to strike back?”

A chill shook her. It wasn’t a new idea, but hearing it put to words left her shivering inside. They were more than a match for any number of ships in the sky, but vessels that were faster, more maneuverable, and had guns with greater range than the Cataclysm were quickly approaching a nightmare scenario. She doubted yet they had much that could outrange them, but if there were blueprints, engineering information, and other knowledge they’d captured from the Capital, they could certainly close the gap in a hurry. 

“Is that one of your secrets?” Nira leaned against the window, grimacing. “Because we already assumed they were working on that kind of thing.” 

“They are.” Alakor clacked his beak once. “In fact, in some cases, they’re fielding them.” 

“The Union is fielding new airships?” Nira straightened, sucking in her breath. Malaresh’s words earlier in the day drifted through her mind. Sleek, white and gold in color. A Union vessel, but not of a make nor marking that I am familiar with. She stared at the gryphon, watching him closely. “You must know their ships well, right?” 

“I am familiar with most of them, yes.” Alakor waggled his fingers. “We were transported on them, often enough, usually on recon or intelligence vessels.” 

Nira took a moment to consider how much she ought to tell the gryphon. For all she knew, he might already know that strange ship was out there. It might be one of his secrets he planned to spring on her when the time was right, or dangle before her. Or it might be a surprise, but a surprise he could somehow use against her. It did not take Nira long to decide to go ahead and ask him. If she expected him to be open with her, she had to extend him the same courtesy. Besides, what good was a former Union spy bird if she was afraid to ask him too many questions? 

“Malaresh saw an ship, when he on his way to pick up supplies. He and Jirril were headed for the Emplacement, eventually.” She waved a hand. “We don’t know if it was new, specifically, but it was of a make he did not recognize. Had unfamiliar colors, and markings, too.”

“Oh?” Alakor perked his ears, his head cocked. “How close did the dragon get? Was he able to further describe it?” 

“A little. He said it looked sleek.” Nira paused, considering it. 

That would certainly match up with the idea they were trying to build faster airships. The Empire had been developing all sorts of ideas alongside the development of the Cataclysm. Many of them never had a chance to come to fruition. While some of that research was now safely stored about Nira’s ship, plenty more had to be left behind. The engineers surely would have tried to destroy as much of it as they could, but Nira could only imagine the Golden Union managed to claim at least some of it. 

“Is that it?” Alakor’s tail idly swished behind him, hanging off the edge of the lounger. “I’m afraid sleek isn’t really enough of a descriptor for me to take a guess.” 

Nira rubbed her hands together. “Bigger than the average recon vessel, but nowhere near destroyer size. Heavily armed, he thought, though he wasn’t close enough to say for sure. They didn’t try firing on him, though if they had lookouts, they likely spotted him. Malaresh also said he’d never seen it’s make, or its markings, before. And that it was white and gold, in color. Which is unusual, the Union doesn’t usually paint their entire ships…” Nira trailed off when she realized Alakor had gone completely still. “What is it?”

“White and gold?” Alakor swallowed hard, his black-tipped crown feathers rising in alarm. “The whole ship was white and gold?”

“I think so, yes.” Nira moved away from the wall to approach the gryphon. “Why? What kind of ship is that?” 

“That, Your Highness, is an Executor ship.” Something in the gryphon’s voice made Nira’s blood run cold. “Do not underestimate its capabilities. And more importantly, do not, under any circumstances, underestimate its commander.” 

“Executor?” Nira furrowed her brow, scowling. She’d heard the term, but was not as familiar with the Union’s various inner workings and titles of rank as she knew she should be. “They’re sort of like a special intelligent operative meets religious inquisitor, right? High ranking?” 

“In a way.” Alakor stared at his forepaws. “Executors are so-titled because they are considered to execute the will of the Three Gods. They hold both a high rank in both Church, and Military hierarchies, and as such, are generally given carte blanche to achieve their objectives. Technically speaking, they’re high level field commanders, each with their own ship, and with the authority to take control over almost any non-wartime operation. Now…” Alakor lifted his head again, taking a slow breath. “Practically speaking, they’re usually intelligence operatives, you’re correct about that. Usually in charge of various secretive, or dangerous missions. This one is probably in running the operation to hunt down their lost spy.” He put his paw to his chest, then flicked a wing tip towards her. “Or keeping tabs on you for whatever operation they’re planning against you.” He set his foreleg back down against the lounger. “Probably both.”

“So, if we were to say, capture this ship,” Nira said, flourishing her hand. “And it’s Executor, we’d be sitting on a damn gold mine of intelligence.”

“Correct.” Alakor scowled, grinding his beak and flattening his ears. “But I would not recommend attempting it. That ship can likely outfly this one, and even if unable, would be more likely to fight until you sent it down in flames than surrender. You would take casualties. And even if you did manage to board it, you’d still be unlikely to take an Executor without sustaining more casualties, let alone capture one alive.” 

Nira leaned back up against the wall, grimacing. “Yeah, I can imagine. I somehow doubt they pick these Executors from the rank and file.” 

“They most certainly do not.” Alakor drummed his fingers against the edge of his lounger. “Most of them are among the Empire’s most renowned combatants and gunfighters. There are only twelve current Executors, to my knowledge, and each one of them attained the rank and title only after surviving at least one event that should have killed them. Things like, successfully completing so-called suicide missions, outgunning entire Empire squads by themselves, living through multiple wounds that should have claimed their lives, and on and on. Some of them served on special forces teams, others were simply known for diving headfirst into danger. Some did it because of religious fervor, for the glory of their Gods. Others just for the sheer visceral thrill of a chaotic gunfight.” 

Alakor rubbed his beak in thought, murmuring to himself. “Now, where the rumors end and the truth begins, is always a hard line to parse. But I’ve had a look at the service records for a few Executors, and they tend to be littered with seemingly impossible odds survived. As a result, the Church considers them Sanctified. Which, in this instance, means that the Church officially considers their survivability to be attributable to a divine blessing.”

Nira snorted, rolling her eyes. “Bullshit. They just sound like well-trained soldiers who get lucky.”

The gryphon only shrugged his wings. “Perhaps so, but the Dogma is what it is. That’s why they hold a rank within the Church, as well. They’re like the Church’s personal warriors, though some of them surely take that aspect a little more seriously than others. Of course, what they won’t tell anyone, is that they’re also sent to do all the Union’s dirty work.” Alakor fluffed up his feathers with a distasteful hiss. “Whatever terrible things the Unions needs done, but doesn’t want to sully their hands with? Send an Executor, along with a task force of their choosing. Assassinations, murders, inquisitions, punishment of village-wide heresy…” 

When the gryphon trailed off, and looked away, Nira gave him a moment to collect his thoughts. “You sound like you know them awfully well. You were in intelligence too, right? So if there’s one hunting you now, I’m guessing you worked for them.” 

“They often consider Snow Gryphons to be one of their ‘tools’, yes.” Alakor shifted his weight, gazing down at the floor beneath the lounger. “I did not often take orders directly from an Executor, but I did on occasion. In my case, it was more often that my own masters took their orders from Executors.” Alakor closed his eyes, his voice dropping into a pained whisper. “A few of them also own their own Snow Gryphons.”

Nira wondered in that moment if Lissir’s theory was right. Did Alakor have a child, somewhere? If so…had the female they bred him with worked for an Executor? She took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. “If we have to fight-”

“I will have no trouble shedding their blood.” Alakor stiffened in an instant. “If anything, those serving the Executors are likely even more brainwashed than the rest of us. Admittedly it…may be painful for me later, but I would not hesitate.”

Nira nodded once. “I understand. And if we had to fight an Executor?”

“Oh,” Alakor said, his voice twisting into something dark, and hungry. “Oh, please let me rend an Executor.” 

Nira studied him, where the hatred in his voice belied his calmness his body language betrayed nothing. “I’ll see what I can do.” Nira turned back around, if only to give the gryphon some time to himself. If he wished to let his emotions wash over him without her constant gaze, she willing to grant him that. “I suppose it’s possible you’d know this Executor then?” 

“I might.” The gryphon took a few slow, even breaths. “If I had to guess I’d say it’s Harliss. She’s already operating in the area, we took orders from her before, and she has snow gryphons of her own. I suspect she was already tasked with keeping tabs on you and your ship, and when I failed to report, she took charge of finding me, as well.”

“Harliss?” Nira spoke the name aloud. She’d never heard it, but that did not surprise her. “And, one a scale of, ‘one-to-we’re fucked’, how dangerous is she?” 

“Your scale doesn’t go high enough.” Alakor tapped a single unsheathed claw against the lounger in slow, repetitive fashion. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. “She’s the sort to dive into a gunfight she couldn’t possibly win, just because she’s bored.” Tap. Tap. Tap. “She likes pistols, as you do. Always had them at her hips, every time I saw her. Often with more at her sides, across her ribs. And if rumors are to be believed, she’s one of the fastest draws in the Union.” Tap. Tap. “Some would say, the whole Union.” 

Nira idly fidgeted with the buckle of her right hostler. She popped it open, then closed it again. The thought of having to go up against someone like that left her stomach sucked up against her spine, and a cold hollow where her belly once was. “Wonderful. So, put a bullet in the badass before she even thinks about going for her guns.” 

“If you get the opportunity, I’d suggest you put six bullets in her, just to be sure.” 

The Princess buttoned her hostler, then ran her hands down her face. “If we ever do come up against her, maybe I’ll put Amelia on her. Amelia’s a surer shot than I am, and she can level off her Ebony Ranger with this Executor’s head. Then if she even considers drawing on us, Amelia can take her head off before her hands ever reach her holsters.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Alakor’s voice was far too level, and far too sincere for Nira’s liking. 

“We’ll be as ready as we can.” She turned away from the gryphon, waving at him. “Maybe if we came up against her, I’ll put you on her instead. You manage to kill someone that important to the Union, and you’ll have definitely earned my trust.”

“And assuming I survive the bullets she puts on me before I can reach her, I’d happily prove she’s not so Sanctified, after all.” Alakor gave a little warble, a hinted of feigned amusement pushed into his voice. “I don’t suppose this counts as sharing one of my secrets with you, does it?” 

Nira chuckled, bittersweet. “Suppose that depends on how closely guarded knowledge of these Executors really is. And whether this is one of your secrets, or the Unions.” 

“A little from Column A, a little from Column B?” Alakor stretched his wing, preening it, if only to distract himself a little. “It’s not something I would have immediately divulged, had you not described one of their ships to me.”

“I guess I’d best take what I can get.” Nira gazed out the window again, crossing her arms. “This conversation didn’t exactly turn out the way I planned.”

“Life rarely does.” Alakor settled his wing back. “For whatever it may be worth, I promise you, my desire to defect to your crew is genuine. Yes, I despite the Union, and wish revenge upon my old masters. And yes, I know the information I have provided will likely lead to conflict. That said, should you wish to flee this land, and never return? My defection remains. I will stay as part of your crew as long as you are willing to have me. Should you wish me to leave, I-”

“I’ve no intention of casting you back to the wolves, Alakor.” Nira took a deep breath, holding it till her lungs ached. “And I believe you, and Malaresh believes you. At least about your desire to join us. But.” She lifted a single finger so the gryphon could see it over her shoulder. “If I feel like you’re manipulating me again? I’m going to have you tossed in the brig until you’re willing to re-think your level of honesty. Clear?” 

“Crystalline, Captain.” Alakor bowed his head. “And I thank you for your patience with me.” 

“See that you don’t wear it out.” Nira glanced back at him. “Now, since you heard me talk about my past, earlier? If you’re willing, I’d like to talk about yours.”