Princess of Beasts - Chapter Twenty Five (Patreon)

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Chapter Twenty Five

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Executor Harliss followed Deputy Hatha, and the burnt-red kobold through the Emplacement’s twisting corridors. Given that both gnoll and kobold wore similar black vests, Harliss surmised they served as a uniform of sorts for Prav’s higher ranking personal security. Hatha’s vest had silver threading and decorations, while the kobold’s bore golden embossments. Given the way Hatha deferred to the kobold, Harliss suspected the color also served as a mark of rank. 

Evlee and Tormin walked at either side of her, a step behind. All three kept hands on guns. Neither spoke, but nonetheless remained in full communication. Their eyes darted everywhere, and with a tilt of their head, or a flick of their fingers, they drew Harliss’s attention to anything of concern as they wandered through the labyrinthine halls. 

This section of The Emplacement’s interior seemed designed like a maze. Hallways crisscrossed each other, with small stairwells leading up or down a half story here, two stories there. In one area, every door looked exactly the same, right down to intentionally chipped blue paint, flaking off the same area, in the same pattern, on every door. A short time later, and each door was completely unique. One was red, with carved vines crawling across it, while another was painted silver, with strange numerical codes inscribed across it. 

Harliss was certain the kobold was leading them around in circles, as well. She counted the same unique doors several times, and repeatedly spotted lamps with odd, silver pyramid shaped fixtures. It was easy enough to guess why they were given the runaround. It was hard to plan an assassination, invasion, or escape attempt if you couldn’t find your way through the building. 

Just as the outside of the place held a disparate mishmash of strange architectural influences, so too did its inner depths. Dark wooden panels and brass accents gave way to lilac carpeting, and flowery wallpaper. One room they passed through was lined with antique furniture, while another held nothing but mirrors, and detailed statues of anatomically correct beasts. Another chamber served as a private tavern and stage. Prav’s guards and associates sat at mismatched tables, smoking from grand communal pipes. A group of urd’thin played music, and several male humans danced in the nude with a female gnoll. A few more gnolls and urd’thin were counting coins and other currency further along, with a naked female kobold seated in one of the gnoll’s lap. 

The kobold tilted her head, ever so slightly, watching Harliss pass. Evlee tilted her head towards the kobold, but Harliss had already noticed her gaze. She was paying too close attention to the Executor and her group to be just a sex worker. Harliss wondered how many more plants Prav kept amidst his whores, and how many of these scenes they passed by were only for show. If she returned here with a force of soldiers intent on conquest, she doubted any of these rooms would be as she remembered them. 

“Shame we’re here on business,” Evlee said, breaking the group’s silence. “I could have a lot of fun, here.”

“If you call catching a venereal disease from a monster fun.” Tormin glanced at her, scowling. “Just keep your eyes open. Just because we only see the guards they want us too, doesn’t mean there’s an ocean of them hidden away, and waiting to crash over us at any moment.” 

Harliss smiled, happy to let them banter. The more distracted they seemed, the more their kobold babysitter might let his guard down. She knew well enough both her bodyguards were intensely focused on the task at hand, and all the dangers it presented. They were mapping things in their minds just as she were, counting guards, mentally marking entrances and exits, glancing at weapons and ammunition, and so on. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Tormin. My eyes are wide open.” Evlee glanced through an open door to a lushly appointed room, where a naked male gnoll with dark fur was playfully snarling at some unseen customer. “Oooh, that must be a VIP, to get a private room back here.”  

Tormin only snorted. “Staring at some monster’s balls doesn’t count as keeping your eyes open.” 

Evlee rolled her eyes. “I was not staring at the gnoll’s balls.” She smirked. “He was facing the wrong way. Besides, my curious interest is reserved for Coaldust…” She took a small stop closer to Hatha, and playfully batted at the tip of the gnoll’s tail. “And for the Deputy here.” 

Hatha walked faster, pulling his tail away from Evlee’s hands. “Please don’t include me.”

For the first time since they’d started following him, the burnt-red scaled kobold finally spoke up. “I dunno, Hatha, if Prav’s mad enough about you lettin’ them in here with their guns, you may as well try your luck with a human girl while you can.” 

“Oh, don’t worry, Deputy Hatha.” Harliss put a hand upon the gnoll’s shoulder. “If we’ve endangered your job, or your life, or any other part of you, I’m sure we could find you a spot on my ship.” 

Hatha growled through clenched teeth, his ears flattened. “Not sure being a Union slave is better than being dead, actually.”

“Oh, I’m sure it isn’t that serious,” Harliss said, glancing down at the kobold. “It wasn’t as if we gave the Deputy a choice in the matter.”

“Nah, Prav’s pretty forgiving. If he’s in a bad mood, he’ll probably just…” He twisted around to smirk up at Hatha, tiny sharp teeth on full display. “Shave all the fur off all his important places, then parade him around naked, and demote him to whore for a while.” 

“Really?” Evlee’s steps took on an excited, skipping gait. “I hope we’re still around for that.” 

Hatha shot her a dirty look, his ears still pinned. “Not funny.” 

“Oh, I’m only teasing.” Evlee folded her arms, glancing down intersecting corridors, her eyes darting from guard to worker and back again. “Besides, if you’re really in trouble, perhaps we can pay your way out of it, since you’ve been so helpful.” 

“Either that, or Prav will decide you three get to punish him, to make a point.” The kobold picked up his pace, little clawed toes clicking against the bare wooden floor. “We’re almost there.” 

“How the hell would that be making a point?” Tormin drummed fingers against his cradled scattergun. “And what point?” 

“Baron Prav works in mysterious ways.” The kobold came to a stop before a door with fanciful dragons embossed upon it in gold, along with runic script. “Speaking of which, we’re here.”

“I suspect Prav’s bodyguards also work in mysterious ways, considering I assume you’re only teasing the poor Deputy.” Harliss paused behind the kobold. 

The elaborately marked door was smaller than most, and she doubted the three of them could make it through without ducking. The door handle was lower than usual, as well. Harliss had the sneaking suspicion their host had taken them to door built for kobolds and urd’thin just to make them prostrate themselves to pass through it. Still, if he expected a reaction, none of them rose to the bait. 

Instead, Harliss just gazed around. The corridor around them was unremarkable. The walls were paneled in scuffed wood, with a few flickering, faintly buzzing lamps on either side. There were no guards around, but Harliss did not doubt there were secret doorways with armed protection lurking behind them, hidden in plain sight. “No visible guards, hmm?” 

The kobold only shrugged. “You ready? Prav’s been waitin’ on you while you told your damn story.” 

“After you, my friendly host.” Harliss offered a respectful bow, resting her hands on her quickest-to-draw pistols. Though she doubted this was all an elaborate trap, one could never be too careful, she thought. 

The kobold opened the door, and led them through. As expected, Harliss had to duck to pass through it, while Tormin and Evlee were forced to do the same behind her. On the other side of the door was a servant’s chamber, where a dozen kobolds and urd’thin all scurried around. Pillows and cushions covered the floor. At one side of the room was a kitchen, where servants were preparing platters of food or pouring drinks. A while a few more helped a female va’chaak and a male gnoll into elaborate outfits with fanciful colors. Others just lounged around, talking and laughing. 

Harliss was sure taking them through the servant’s entrance was meant as both insult, and security measure. It kept them from learning the primary routes to Prav’s inner chambers, and meeting places. It also made the point that Prav had no more respect for the Union than he did for his common servants. Or at least, that was how Harliss interpreted it. For now, she took the insult in stride. There were more important things at stake than her personal pride.

When the red kobold emerged into the room, most of the servants quickly scattered out of the group’s way. Some stared wide-eyed at the executors, a few more muttered curses under their breath, but none spoke up or made the crude gestures they were no doubt considering. Somehow Harliss doubted any of them dared to insult Prav’s guests too openly. Two of them hurried to the other side of the room, where two large double doors inlaid with dragon wings waited. The servants swiftly pushed the doors open, bowing their heads. 

The kobold walked through the doorways, holding his hand open to tell Harliss and the others to wait behind him. He walked ahead, calling out in a voice louder and more booming than she imagined such a small creature capable of. “Baron Prav, may I present Executor Harliss, First Officer Tormin, and Protection Officer Evlee.” 

“Ooh, my title sounds so much fancier when it’s spoken like that.” Evlee eased a pistol partway free, just in case. “I know it’s just a fancy term for bodyguard, but I’m starting to like it.” 

“It’s irritating they know our titles.” Tormin growled under his breath. 

“That’s the point, Tormin,” Harliss said. “Now, game faces, everyone. Ignore the insults, don’t fixate on what he is, and focus on business. Violence only if they force our hand.” 

“Come in, come in!” A loud, rumbling voice replied to the kobold. “I don’t often get Union guests, do make yourselves at home, and feel free to enjoy my hospitality.” 

Harliss entered the expansive meeting hall as the kobold stepped aside. The chamber was impressively large, bigger than she’d expected to find buried so deep inside the building. Fluted columns lined it twin rows, like something from an old cathedral. Pillows and cushions were scattered the floor, in larger number and higher quality than those in the servant’s quarters. A few more servants of various races hurried out of the room. The red kobold followed Harliss inside, ready to defend his boss. 

Several elegant crystal and gold lamps were affixed to the walls, and the ceiling. They buzzed slightly, shedding vibrant blue-white light. They were different from the older gas lamps out in the tavern. It was possible they were even electrical in nature, though she had no information indicating Prav’s people had harnessed that particular force just yet. Perhaps they’d stolen a few generators, or captured one of the first ships with such power. It certainly looked as if Prav was hoping to show it off, as if tell her, he did not need the Union’s help, nor their advancements. 

And then she saw the dragon. 

Harliss’s fingers tightened around her pistols. Though she thought herself prepared, seeing a dragon up close and completely free of captivity still left her heart thudding in her chest, her hands cold. Given the way Tormin sucked in his breath, and Evlee drew a pistol halfway free, they felt the same. But Harliss refused to show fear, or uncertainty, and forced herself to approach the dragon with swift, steady steps. 

“Greetings, Baron Prav,” Harliss said, overemphasizing the title. “I see you’ve given yourself a promotion. I’m sure it was well-earned. A pleasure to meet you at last.” 

“A pleasure to meet you as well, Executor.” The dragon’s crisp enunciations of every syllable made him sound more like a diplomat than a hardened crime lord, let alone a powerful beast. The dragon made a show of lowering his head in a deep bow. “You’re the first Executor I have ever hosted.” 

Harliss returned the dragon’s bow, signaling for her bodyguards to do the same. As she bent forward, she kept her eyes up, looking the dragon over. He was male. Gray-blue scales covered his lithe body in patchwork patterns, grayer here, bluer there. Scars marked his hide in many places, some from teeth and claws, others from bullets and shrapnel. Short, curved horns crowned his sharply triangular head. Spiny frills with vibrant, crimson spots circled the back of his skull. His eyes were a pale silver, almost a ghostly, blind hue. Gold and silver bracelets adorned all four limbs, with bejeweled circles upon his tail. 

Prav was smaller, and more slender than the dragons she had seen before, some in captivity, or turned towards the Union’s holy service. While those beasts were significantly larger even than her snow gryphons, this dragon scarcely outweighed Spot and Speckles. Not that his size was unusual for his species. 

The world had at least four known breeds of such monsters, though Harliss did not know all the scientific terms for them. The former Empire kept more detailed records on the various monsters of the world, though the Union’s leaders were reticent to their people get access to those documents and tomes. But Harliss that colloquially, Prav’s sub-species were called cliff dragons. 

Cliff dragons were smaller than their brethren, both in length, and weight. They were lither of body, and faster on the wing. Cliff dragons were likely the most agile of all their species, both on the ground and in the air. They were also one of the least common breeds of an already uncommon race. Most of them lived in the cliffs and mountains that edged the eastern side of the continent, forming clans. It was likely that whenever The Emplacement was first created, cliff dragons helped carve all the caverns and alcoves that now housed it’s many anti-air batteries. 

According to the files she’d read on Prav, he was one of a number of cliff dragons who each fought to claim this place alongside pirates and other criminal allies. Victory by victory, Prav had prevailed over his kin, and eventually remained as the sole master of the Emplacement, and all its many guns. In the decades since, he’d turned the old fort into a highly successful enterprise. He also had others of his kin working for him, establishing other locations to spread his influence. 

“I should imagine I’m the first Executor ever to visit this place, let alone to meet you.” Harliss straightened up, offering him her friendliest smile. “My apologies for keeping you waiting, and shooting some of your people.”

Prav tossed his head. “Nonsense, you only shot one of my people. Yorlok’s been pressing his luck, anyway. The others, I’m told, are customers. They should have known better than to draw on an executor. I’ll comp their stay, and all their fees, give them free access to whatever and whoever they want.” The dragon snorted. “Hardly the first time people have been shot, here. Besides, you had a story to tell.” The dragon cocked his head. “Captivating tale, by the way. I wonder how much of it was true?”

“Thank you.” Harliss smiled, then gave a dismissive shrug. “You should hear the one about my life as a street urchin, after I ran away from parents who used to beat me.”  

“That sounds interesting.” Prav glanced at the Kobold, and the red-scaled gunslinger hurried to a nearby door, banging on it three times. Then the dragon returned his attention to Harliss and her company. “I shall have to ask you to regale me, sometime. But I must ask, are either such stories true?” 

“Oh, all my stories are true.” Harliss took a step towards the dragon, relaxing her grip on her weapons. “Or maybe only parts of them are. I leave it up to the listen to parse truth from fiction. Otherwise reality is simply whatever I say it is.” 

The door the kobold banged on opened, and a couple of gnolls emerged, carrying a black table between them. A male gryphon followed, the first Harliss had seen back here, along with a human woman. All four of them were dressed only in flimsy, colorful silks. What looked revealing on the gnolls and the human looked oddly exotic on the gryphon. The gryphon held the handle of a large carrier basket in his beak, with platters, bottles, and drinkware all held inside. 

The human woman cleared away all the pillows and cushions in front of the dragon, and the gnolls put the table there. Then the three of them swiftly removed things from the gryphon’s basket, setting them upon the table. After a quick flurry of activity, the newly arrived table was laden with exotic fruits like figs and dates, some fresh and some candied. There were slices of cured meats and rich cheeses, crusty breads and all manner of spreads and jams. Glassware was distributed, and water, wine, and whiskey all poured, the bottles displayed with their labels towards the Executor. As soon as the table was set, the gnolls fetched comfortable chairs with dark wood frames, and plus, purple-hued cushions. They set the three chairs down across the table from the dragon, and then bowed to him before removing themselves. 

The gryphon and the woman lingered longer, sharing affection and attention with Prav. The woman caressed his scales, and the gryphon nuzzled at his chest. Prav nuzzled them in return, stroking the gryphon’s wings and the woman’s arm. He rumbled a throaty purr to them, before sending them on their way. The red-scaled kobold followed them to the door, then shut it behind them, and returned to the dragon’s side. 

Harliss settled into the offered chair, though her bodyguards remained standing. She glanced towards the well-armed kobold. “So only the one bodyguard, then? Should I be insulted, or flattered?”

Prav cocked his head, spearing a few slices of meat with a single, unsheathed claw. He stared down at her, then popped the meat into his muzzle. “If I thought you were here to kill me, Executor, I’d not have allowed you to meet me with your weapons.” 

“Fair point.” Harliss looked the kobold over, smiling. “Though unless he’s very, very good, I’d be a little insulted if you thought he could stop me.” 

The dragon gave a hearty, rumbling laugh. “Oh, fear not, my dear Executor. He is exceptionally good. I’ve heard you may be the fastest gun inside the Union.” He waved a paw at the kobold. “Well, Nok here may be the fastest gun outside the Union. If he can’t outdraw you, then I’d have to kill you myself. At that point, additional bodyguards are just going to get in my way.” 

“Of course.” Harliss selected a single date, examining it. “And that’s not to mention the ocean of guards waiting to crash down on us from all the adjoining chambers, I’m certain.”

Prav only shrugged his wings. “Why bother mentioning the obvious?” 

“Indeed.” Harliss bit the date in half, savoring its sweetness. She gestured at Nok with the other half. “So, are you really that fast?” 

The kobold grunted, folding his arms. “Are you?” 

Harliss smiled, finishing off the date. “Only one way to find out.” 

Nok only stared at her, unmoved, unagitated. “If that’s why you were here, we’d already know who was faster.” 

Harliss laughed, reaching for a glass of whiskey. “I like this one.” She swirled the liquid in the glass. “Perhaps before I leave, we should have a friendly competition. Not at each other, mind you, that would eliminate the friendly bit. Just for fun, some target shooting, some quick draw contests-”

“Nok here doesn’t like competitions.” Prav flicked a wing towards the kobold. “Doesn’t like to show his hand, as it were, unless he has to. Doesn’t like people to know how good he really is, until it’s too late.” 

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Harliss sipped her whiskey, shrugging. “I get the feeling there’s something in him that wants to test itself against real competition.” 

The kobold tilted his head. “You sure you ain’t just speakin’ for yourself?” 

Harliss sharpened her tone, ever so slightly. “I believe I’m speaking for both of us.” She took another sip. “The offer stands, anyway, but I shan’t be insulted if you decline.” She held her glass out at arm’s length, staring at it. The gold liquid’s taste still lingered on her tongue, with hints of pear, apple, and spices remaining long after she swallowed it. “Tits of the Mother, that’s good!” 

“Executor!” Tormin glowered down at her. 

Harliss waved her free hand. “Oh, take a seat already, Tormin.” She glanced at the dragon. “He really dislikes it when I utter blasphemous curses.” 

“I’ll sit when he sits.” Tormin inclined his head to kobold. 

Nok just stared at him. “I’ll stand. Guests sit.” 

“Tormin.” Harliss made a point of looking at the empty chair before him. “Sit. I shan’t have you being rude.” 

Tormin and Evlee exchanged a look, then both eased into their respective chairs. They angled them in different directions so that between the two of them, they could still cover as much of the room as possible. 

“You know,” Prav said, hefting a bowl filled with wine towards his muzzle. “I didn’t think Executors were allowed to utter blasphemous curses.” 

“Then you misunderstand Executors.” Harliss tasted her whiskey again, sighing happily. “We’re allowed to do whatever the fuck we want.” 

“Oh?” The dragon lapped up some of his wine, then licked droplets from his blue-gray muzzle. “And here, I assumed your masters sent you so far out into the midst of free lands as a punishment. Are you saying you chose to undertake a mission in what your people consider the ass-end of nowhere?” 

Harliss drained the last of the glass, and set it down. “That’s the gist of it, yes.” 

“Fascinating.” The dragon returned his bowl to the table, his pale gaze leveled on Harliss, unblinking.

“What’s fascinating is this whiskey.” She tapped the rim of her drinking vessel. “What is that?” 

“Fortune’s Favorite, the forty year vintage.” The dragon stretched his wing, and delicately pushed the bottle towards her. “Well, forty years in the barrel, bottled a decade or so ago. Comes from a distillery in the Empire of the Black Star. Smuggled out during your people’s invasion, before they burned the whole place down.” 

“What a shame.” Harliss picked the bottle up, examining the label. Despite its age, it was in excellent condition. The image upon it depicted a dragon with an entire hoard of pot stills, along with the name, and a date embossed in faded gold. “I can see why you like it.” 

“I like it because it’s fucking delicious.” Prav rumbled, curling his tail around his paws. “But I have more, so feel free to indulge.” He glanced at Evlee and Tomrin. “That goes for you two, as well.”

“No, thank you,” Tormin said. 

“I, for one, will take you up on that offer.” Evlee leaned over the table, helping herself to the food. “Thank you for your hospitality, Baron Prav.” 

“Certainly.” The dragon bowed his head, his words rolling across his tongue with a pleased purr. “Hospitality is my business, and servants of the Union or not, you’re my guests. In times of peace, even enemies should be treated with respectful, until they no longer deserve it.” 

Harliss set the bottle down, forgoing any more whiskey for the time being. Instead, she plucked up a slice of brown, crusty bread, then smeared some cherry jam across it. “Are we your enemies?” 

“You three, specifically?” The dragon shook himself, his wings rustling. “Not so far. But your masters certainly are. They’ve murdered and enslaved my people…” He waved a paw towards Nok. “His people…really, anything that does not resemble them, or worship their gods. Does that not make them my enemy?”

Harliss took the question in stride, biting into her bread. She chewed it, savoring the slight tartness of the cherry jam, then smiled at the dragon after swallowing. “And yet, you’re certainly happy to take their coin. Three times as much of it as anyone else’s, in fact.” 

“Of course. Wealth is wealth. If I can profit from my enemies, why shouldn’t I?” The dragon picked up his wine bowl, and took a drink. “Besides, I consider my territory neutral ground. I provide services to anyone with the ability to pay for it. If I were to deny the Union docking rights, that would set a slippery slope. What would stop some alliance of pirates from pressuring me to deny service to their own rivals? It’s easier if I simple remain open to everyone, regardless of my personal feelings.” He lapped more wine, then smiled. “It’s far more profitable, too.” 

“Pragmatic.” Harliss finished off her slice of bread, and went for another. “I respect that. You offer your services to anyone with coin to pay for it, but strive to remain neutral. Would you say you’d go so far as to refuse to take sides in any potential conflict?” 

A smirk stretched across the dragon’s muzzle, his red-spotted frills rising. “Careful, Executor. While I prefer to remain neutral, that doesn’t mean I’m about to start letting you set up camp here to arrest all my best customers. Just because your people may consider someone a fugitive doesn’t mean I’m going to allow you to kill or capture them on my lands, let alone within my tavern.”

“Is that why you think I’m here?” Harliss paired a hunk of cheese with a few slices of cured beef and pork. “Fugitive hunting?” 

Prav snorted, his voice hardening. “You’re damn sure not here to hire whores. And I rather doubt someone in your position cares about a few recon ships getting raided. So let’s not waste each other’s time. I know you’re here because you’re hunting a white gryphon named Alakor. An escaped slave.” Prav lifted a paw to cut off her reply. “Don’t argue about whether or not your fugitive is a slave, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that this gryphon served your people as a faithful spy, until he shook off his brainwashing. Now he’s fled, and you hope to catch him before he defects to your enemies, and spills all your secrets.” The dragon cocked his head. “Do I have it right so far?” 

Harliss took a bite of food, then waggled a piece of cheese at the dragon. “More or less. Do go on, though.” 

“Since you wished to talk to me, I’m guessing you want my help in locating him.” Prav lifted his frills, his eyes narrowed. “Or you think you have something to offer me.” 

Executor Harliss shrugged, finishing off her cheese. “You crime lords do tend to be awfully well informed. And as pragmatic as you claim to be, I’m guessing you understand that in the long run, the Golden Union is a far more important, and potentially beneficial customer, than a single gryphon.” She licked her fingers clean. “However filled with his secrets this gryphon may be.” 

“You’re not incorrect.” The dragon used a single unsheathed claw to spear a few figs, then delicately plucked one free with his teeth. “I am well informed.” He chewed the fig, then took another just as carefully. “And I am willing to offer you that information, free of charge and recompense, in the interest of the Union’s continued recognition of my continued neutrality.” 

“How gracious of you.” Harliss bowed her head. “The Union appreciates your cooperation.”

The dragon’s voice grew colder. “I’m certain they do.” He ate the last fig he’d selected, and retracted his claw. “However, before I proceed, it’s only fair to warn you I don’t think my information is going to be all that helpful to you.” 

Harliss rested her arm over the back of her chair. “What makes you think that?” 

“Because you’re too late.” Prav slowly set his forepaw back down. 

Tormin and Evlee shifted on either side of her, each ready to respond to any outcome, if necessary. Harliss lifted her fingers, a signal for patience. She did not think the dragon meant that as the ominous threat her bodyguards may have taken it as. “The gryphon has already been and gone before we arrived, I know. But I was hoping you could point us in the right direction, when we leave.” 

“Oh, I certainly can.” The dragon stretched a wing, pointing with it as if to show her which direction to head. “But that’s what I mean about it being too late. He’s already defected. To the Empire of the Black Star. Or at least, what’s left of it.”

Harliss scowled, her blood heating. “That’s unfortunate. I had a suspicion, but I was hoping that theory wouldn’t pan out.” She exchanged a look with Tormin and Evlee, then turned her attention back to the dragon. “How do you know?” 

Prav studied his outstretched wing. A pattern of mottled, criss-crossing scars marked it in one place, remnants of an old shrapnel wound. Possibly flak-related, Harliss thought. Finally, the dragon folded his wing back against his body. “He told me as much, when I met with him. And that was weeks ago, so by now I’m certain he’s followed through with it.” He tilted his head, an infuriating smile upon his gray-blue muzzle. “I could point you in The Cataclysm’s direction too, if you like. You’re also hunting their Princess, aren’t you?” 

Harliss drummed her fingers against the chair. “There are rumors to the effect.” 

“So I hear.” Prav reached for the bottle of whisky, and poured himself a few dragon-sized shots worth. “In fact, you’d be surprised at the sort of rumors that circulate in my tavern. Why, I hear the Union is almost as interested in that ship as they are the Princess. I’ve even heard there’s a bit of a schism amongst your leadership, about whether to kill the girl, or take her alive. I wonder, which side do you fall on, Executor?” 

“Whichever side I need to.” Harliss offered Prav a polite smile, but there were a few issues she wasn’t about to discuss with him. She also wasn’t about to let him take full control of the conversation so easily. “If she’s smart, she’ll surrender, and that will take the choice out of the Union’s hands. Now, I wonder-”

“Oh, yes,” Prav said, his voice all snarl and sarcasm. “Because the Union has never executed a captive before, or accidentally thrown one off a ship in a failed escape attempt. I’m sure nothing bad could ever happen to that Princess and her crew if they surrendered to the Golden Union.”

“Not on our ship.” Tormin leaned towards the dragon, the chair creaking under his mass. “If she surrenders to us, she’ll be safe. Even heretics and prisoners of war will be treated with dignity, if they peacefully surrender themselves.” 

“Yes, yes.” Prav waved his paw as if dismissing Tormin entirely. “Your grand religion is a true bastion of honor, kindness, and dignity. Speaking of which.” The dragon glanced at each three of them in turn. “I’m told the other Princess, the one your people made their puppet empress. Tryn, was it?” 

“It was, and still is.” Harliss straightened up, deciding to let Prav have his little moment of glory. If he felt in charge, it would be easier to catch him off guard soon enough. “What about her?” 

“Well.” Prav swung his head back towards her. “Is it true the Empire sent her away, with a dragon to protect her? Before the capital fell, I mean.” 

Harliss shrugged. “They did, yes.” 

“Hearsay tells me that when they finally caught him, this human girl surrendered herself peacefully, in an attempt to save the dragon’s life.” Prav tilted his slender, serpentine head. “True?” 

“As far as I know, but whatever rumor-”

Prav turned his gaze back to Tormin. “You know what your honorable, dignified brethren did to that dragon, after his peaceful surrender?” Prav hissed his words with disgust. “First they cut his balls off, just to make a point. Then later, when that wasn’t enough, they took his head off, and mounted it in the palace, so the Princess would have to see it every day.”

Tormin met the dragon’s glare, his voice low, even, and prideful. “No, they didn’t.” 

“He’s right.” Evlee took a goblet of wine off the table. “They didn’t do either of those things. We’ve met the new Empress, and her pet dragon.” She sipped the wine, staring at Prav. “And the beast is both alive, and fully intact.”

“Oh?” Prav shifted his weight, focusing on Evlee. “Then you’re either better informed than I, or easily tricked. Perhaps it was a different dragon, one that your people had brainwashed into serving as her captor, rather than her guardian.” 

“You know what I’d like to know?” Harliss slapped her hand against Prav’s table. The sharp sound rang out, demanding everyone’s attention. She’d have enough of the dragon’s games. “Why you met with Alakor?” 

Prav snorted, lashing his tail. It sent a few silver-tasseled cushions flying. “To pump him for information. Now, as I said before, I can point you after him, if you want, but other than that I doubt I can be of any assistance. Although, in the interest of good faith, I am willing to cover all the repairs to your people’s ships, since they occurred in my docks.” 

“I don’t give one iota of a shit about your money.” Harliss dug her nails in against the dark wood, eyes burning holes through the dragon’s skull. “I’m here for far more important matters than that.” 

The dragon tossed his head, a flippant gesture amongst his species, as far as Harliss knew. “Are you? If this Alakor is really that important, perhaps I should have kept him for myself.” He turned his head towards the kobold. “I don’t know, he seemed a bit…off, don’t you think Nok?” 

The kobold nodded. “The bird was crazy, boss.” He looked Harliss over, his blunt muzzle twisted into a scowl. “Talked a lotta crazy shit, too. A lotta crazy, cult-bird shit.”

Harliss leaned back in her chair, silently appraising them both. Coaldust had mentioned that Alakor spoke about the Servants of the Sun-Feather. But the urd’thin hadn’t told her that Alakor met directly with Prav. Then again, Coaldust’s information was probably a lot more carefully parsed out than it appeared. If Prav used his urd’thin workers as secret eyes and ears, they were probably also trained in counterintelligence. 

There was an idea, Harliss thought. Perhaps it was time for a change of tactics. “You know,” Harliss said, flourishing her hand. “I’m surprised you decided to meet with Alakor. It seems incredibly risky for someone in your position to meet directly with a Union spy.” 

Prav only smiled at her, his muzzle slightly parted. “If the Union wanted me dead, I think they’d send more than one mopey snow gryphon.” 

“Oh, that they would.” Harliss shifted forward to pick up a glass of wine. “Why, they might even send an Executor and her crew.” She flashed Nok a smile when he grabbed his guns. “Just speaking theoretically, mind you.” Harliss sipped her wine. She wasn’t that interested in the wine itself, just the show of drinking it, the conceit of relaxed conversation. “I’m just surprised you took such a risk, that’s all.” 

“Nok was here to protect me.” Prav waved his wing towards the little, burnt-red kobold, still gripping his pistols, his eyes fixed on Harliss. “As he is now. Besides.” He pulled his wing back. “I’m quite certain I could best a single gryphon.”

Harliss swirled her wine. “Even so, I’d have thought you’d let your underlings meet with the bird, in your stead. Don’t you think, Evlee?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Evlee popped a date into her mouth, speaking around it as she chewed. “Especially when he’s got so many sneaky little operatives out there, like Coaldust. Why, I bet Coaldust could have pumped…” She made a stroking motion with both hands. “All sorts of secrets out of a poor, inexperienced snow gryphon.”

Prav rumbled deep, brassy laughter. “So it’s true, then? Your people really don’t let them have sex? The poor things.” 

“Not exactly true, no.” Harliss eased back in her chair, happy to put on airs of casual discussion. “Though it depends upon their master, I suppose. Why, if I’m here long enough, perhaps I’ll give my birds permission to come have a little fun, try a few things.”

The dragon dipped his head. “Oh, it’ll be on the house, if you do.”

“Of course, my birds are trained for combat.” She swirled her wine again, watching Prav closely. “Spy birds like Alakor are different, though. They’re trained for all kinds of combat too, of course, but they’re also trained in counterintelligence. Extensively so, in fact. Doubly so for someone like Alakor, who had earned himself an especially high level of trust, and with it, an especially high level of training.” 

“What a shame you’ve lost him, then.” Prav rumbled a chuckle. 

Harliss only smiled. “Have I, though?” She sipped her wine, then shrugged. “You don’t really know that, do you?” 

The dragon’s low laughter twisted into a growl. “You wouldn’t be here if-”

“I would be if Alakor learned something I can use against you.” Harliss set the wine back down, her eyes fixed on the dragon. “And if reported it to me on his way to the Cataclysm. Where for all you know, he’s still working for me.” 

Prav’s voice when flat, his claws clicked out and against the floor. “Is he?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Harliss quirked a brow. “The point is, you don’t really know, do you? Which makes me wonder why you, of all people, would deign to meet directly with someone like Alakor. Either you didn’t realize just how well trained he really was, or you simply underestimated his ability to play you.” 

The dragon sneered, exposing fangs. “Considering his apparent defection, I’d say you’re the ones who’ve been played. You’d better hope he’s still working for you…” Prav trailed off, then looked away, scratching his neck with a wingtip. “I grow weary of your company. What else have you to say to me?” 

Harliss cracked her knuckles, pleased to finally be getting somewhere. She’d rattled him, if only a little, but she was not about to let him change the subject, let alone end the conversation. “What he offer, to earn an audience with you?” 

“Must have been a hell of an opportunity.” Tormin turned towards her, as if his words were meant only for Harliss and Elvee. “You know, Prav here only meets with people of great importance and power, or people he thinks can offer him something very valuable.” 

“Say, that’s right.” Evlee pivoted towards Harliss as well. “Which one do you think we are? Powerful, or profitable?” 

“Oh, we’re both.” Harliss stared at the dragon, unblinking. “We’re absolutely both, even if he doesn’t know it yet. What did the gryphon offer you, Prav?” When the dragon ignored her in favor of taking a drink of his whiskey, Harliss leaned forward. “Prav, this is the moment where I ask you politely. Don’t make it the last polite moment of our conversation.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Harliss saw the kobold’s hands drift towards his guns. She let her free hand do the same, just in case. If things suddenly went south, the kobold would be her first target. Prav would be Tormin and Harliss’s initial target. If the kobold was half as good as was claimed, he’d be firing shots before Prav had even gotten up to fight. The other two wouldn’t likely have time to put him down, but they could put some rounds into the dragon while Harliss dropped the kobold. 

Harliss hoped it wouldn’t come to that. If they had to force their way out of here with gunfire, her options for moving forward were going to be significantly narrowed. And that was assuming they all made it out, intact. Even if they did so, they’d still have to board their ship while it remained in easy range of all of the cliffside artillery. 

Slowly, deliberately, the dragon turned his head towards her. Fire now roiled in his ghostly eyes. “You’re starting to sound like you want to accuse me of something, Executor. If that is the case, go ahead and make your accusation.”

“I heard no such accusation.” Harliss tilted her head towards Tormin. “Did you?” 

“Not a one.” Tormin cradled his scatter gun, eyes darting from Nok to Prav and back again. “Evlee?” 

Evlee shook her head. “Nope, didn’t hear any accusations. The Executor just wondered what sort of offers the gryphon made. Funny you’d take that as an accusation, though. Don’t you agree, Executor?” 

“Concur.” Harliss offered only a cold smile. “Funny.” Faint movement in her peripheral vision told her Nok was easing two pistols ever-so-slightly free. Harliss did the same. “Of course, when you say it like that, dragon, I can’t help but assume there’s something we should be accusing you of.” 

“Be very careful, Executor.” Prav narrowed his eyes, his red-splotched frills flared in open threat. He glowered down at her, his voice all silken menace. “Do remember who’s in charge, here.” 

“I assure you, I know exactly who’s in charge.” Harliss sharpened her own tone, but only a little. She doubted Prav was used to being threatened, and did not want to push her luck too far. At least, not yet. She’d save the real threats for a little later. “Given how quick you were to offer up information on Alakor’s defection, I can’t help but wonder if you’re harboring him, instead. Which would be a very serious crime.”

“I do not acknowledge your laws!” The dragon gave a frustrated snarl, his tail tip flicking back and forth. “That said, no, I’m not harboring a fugitive.” A smile tugged at the corners of the dragon’s mouth. “Well, not that fugitive.” 

Harliss believed him, but she didn’t need Prav to know that. Asking an obvious question or two first would help chip away at Prav’s layers of guarded obfuscation and make it easier to slice through his scaly hide to uncover the truth beneath. Preferably, not in the literal sense. 

“You understand, that harboring a fugitive even in Neutral lands-”

“Which we are.” The dragon slapped a forepaw against the ground. “We have never brooked a side in any conflict, and you’d best be damn glad for it! Otherwise I’d have turned my guns on every damn genocidal Union vessel that dared drift to close to me!”  

And there it was. 

Harliss smiled at the dragon, easing to the edge of her chair. “You know, when you say it like that, you don’t really sound neutral.” She took a hand off a gun, then drummed her fingers against the table. She tapped out an odd, off-time rhythm that never quite repeated itself the same way twice. “When you use words like ‘genocidal’, I have a hard time believing you are neutral. And then I really start to wonder just what that gryphon offered you.” 

Nok drew his two pistols, but it was with a slow, deliberate movement, that kept the barrels pointed at the ground. The kobold wanted her to see it, he wanted her to understand that he was escalating things. It told Harliss two things. One, this was the only warning she was going to get. The next time he moves those guns, he was going to fire them. Two, the kobold followed gunfighter code once called, The Ballad of Barrel and Bullet. To those who followed The Ballad, there were rules to obeyed. For duels, pistols had to be holstered until the moment, where the quickest draw and surest aim would prevail. For a standoff like this, it was different. The guns came out first, to show intent, and give the other a chance to back down. 

Harliss had backed never backed down in all her life.

The Executor turned her full attention to the kobold, and drew her two long-barrel pistols the same gradual way. She kept the barrels pointed at the floor, and met the kobold’s eyes. Harliss offered him a deep, solitary nod, a silent acknowledgement that she was all in. The kobold returned it, and that was that. Now, someone had either had to concede and deescalate, or someone had to shoot first. 

Exactly where that line laid was impossible to say, but they had both acknowledged its existence. Both, in their way, offered both permission and forgiveness with that single look, that single nod. It was an old gunfighter ritual, and the fact the kobold knew it, told Harliss he was probably as good as Prav said. Well, almost. 

Now she really didn’t want to kill the little monster.

On either side of her, Tormin and Evlee stood both stood up. Their kept their movements as gradual as possible. Tormin readied his scattergun, and Evlee unholstered her own pistols. They moved out of the line of fire, and readied their weapons. While they did not aim at Prav, he would be their target if it came to it.

“Oh, put your guns away.” The dragon heaved a sigh, his whole body deflating. 

“Sorry, Baron.” Nok shook his head without taking his eyes off Harliss. “Can’t do that just yet.” 

Harliss met his stare. “Concur.”

“The hell you can’t, Nok.” Prav gave a low rumble from deep within his chest. “Put it away! This isn’t worth spilling Executor blood in my private quarters. I’ll have the Union warships rammed under my tail before I know it.” 

“Appreciate the vote of confidence.” Nok spoke without ever looking away from Harliss. She wasn’t sure the little kobold was even blinking. Somehow, she doubted the dragon even understood what was really happening right now. 

“It’s good to be appreciated by those you protect.” Harliss matched Nok’s unblinking stare. If she dared but blink, he might take a shot at her. And no matter how good either of them was, it would not end with one death, but with many. “However misplaced it may be.” 

“I’m sure your associates think you’re faster, too.” Nok’s tail tip twitched back and forth, back and forth. “But I agree, that’s how it should be. Boss…” The kobold’s little ears swiveled towards the dragon, while his attention remained focused on Harliss. “If you really wanna answer-” 

“Put your guns away!” Prav snarled his words. He threw his wing out between the kobold and Harliss, blocking them off from each other’s view. “I will answer the Executor’s questions. I invited her back here to do just that, after all.” 

Harliss cringed, inwardly. That proved that Prav was ignorant of the old codes. They had very strict rules about interference in such standoffs. An interruption like that was faulted to the party involved. In this case, Prav’s action meant the kobold was forced into a ‘Coward’s Concession’, an especially dishonorable and humiliating way to lose a standoff. Unless, of course…

“I concede.” Harliss shoved her pistols back into their holsters. “I’ve holstered.” 

Unless, of course, Harliss spared him the humiliation. 

Prav slowly pulled his wing back, revealing the kobold still had his pistols out. The burnt-red scales of his head and face had deepened amidst embarrassed anger. His eyes darted to her guns to confirm her claim, and then he swiftly holstered his own. After that, he folded his arms, an indication he did not expect to have to draw them again. 

Nok shifted his weight, swallowed, and finally met Harliss’s eyes. “It was a draw. We’re even.” 

Harliss smiled, and offered him another singular nod. It was a way for them both to save face. And the fact he offered it told her there was more to the little kobold than she’d first imagined. 

Just as quickly as things had deescalated for Harliss and the kobold, Evlee and Tormin returned to their seats. Tormin rested his gun across his lap, but took a more relaxed posture than before, hooking his elbow over the back of the chair. Evlee scooted hers closer to the food and drink, pouring herself some of the Fortune’s Favorite. 

“I’d better try this whiskey before the rest of you hog it all, hmm?” She picked up the glass, and gave the dragon a smile. “So, where were we?” She took a sip. “Oh, that is good!”

“That’s it?” Prav glanced between them all, flattening back his frills. “Just like that, you’re back to normal?” He arched his neck, hissing. “And I thought Nok was a little crazy.” 

“We’ve been through all this before.” Tormin said. “It doesn’t always end so peacefully.”

Harliss took deep breath, then held it. She ran her hands back over her hair, only now noticing just how hard her heart was pounding. The moments after a standoff, a duel, a gunfight, those always seemed more intense than the battle itself. In the moment, there was focus, there was exhilaration, there was adrenaline. But only after the moment had passed, when that adrenaline faded, did the thoughts of what could have been settle in. This would have been far different than that little skirmish in the tavern. If this had gone any further, a lot of people would have died. 

The Executor exhaled, forcing herself to maintain and project an air of calm. She turned back to the dragon, smiling at him. “Now that your bodyguard and I understand each other, we can return to business. So where were we?” She steepled her fingers. “Oh, that’s right, you were calling us genocidal, and defending yourself from accusations we hadn’t made.” Her smile faded. “Yet. And I believe you were about to tell us what you discussed with the gryphon. In detail.” Harliss leaned forward, fixing her eyes on his. Her voice dropped into a low, venomous snarl. “Start talking. I will not ask politely again.”