Princess of Beasts - Chapter Twenty Six (Patreon)

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Chapter Twenty Six

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Malaresh sat on his haunches, just outside the observation deck, while the princess and the snow gryphon talked. The dragon had eased back enough to give the gryphon privacy in his painful moments. Nonetheless, Malaresh kept his ears swiveled towards them, attuned to their every word. As the gryphon told Nira of his past, of his pain, and of the fading sun, Malaresh did what he could to judge the bird’s honesty. It was difficult, without being able to stare into his eyes as he spoke. His best guess remained the same as before, that Alakor was speaking honestly, yet holding back an entire ocean of secrets. 

Malaresh did not like secrets about this ship, unless they were his own. Despite his strident belief that The Cataclysm should belong to him, he considered its crew worthy of his protection. Certainly, there were some he was keener to protect than others, but the dragon would fight for this ship, and its inhabitants, against any foe imaginable. After all, they had saved him. Nira had saved him. Honor dictated now that he protect her in return. 

The dragon hissed to himself. Honor was a pain in the ass, he thought. Pride was a far more satisfying principal to follow, and far more assuaging to his ego. Pride snarled to him, told him that dragons should take orders from no one. Ego whispered into his ear, murmuring to him that this ship should be his, that he should take it, if necessary. But honor, damned honor, sunk its teeth into his throat, and bid him to swear himself to Nira’s protection until her dying day.

And then there was love. Malaresh snorted, lashing his tail against the wood-paneled wall. The dragon didn’t even want to think about love. It was a prison, and a dangerous one at that. Love bound him to this place, even if honor ever him from its grasp. For Malaresh knew that Jirril would never leave Nira’s service, and the dragon could never bring himself to leave his beloved gryphon behind. 

He snarled, unsheathing his claws and digging them into the floorboards. It pained him just to admit to himself that he loved that stupid, fluffy, pompous peacock. How the hell he’d ever grown so close to a damned gryphon, he’d never know. Malaresh feared he was getting far too soft in his old age. Why, in his younger days, Malaresh the Marauder, the great Baron of-

“What are they saying?” Rog thumped the dragon’s scales. 

“What?” Malaresh glanced down at the gnoll, flattening his ears. “Who?”

“The Princess and the snow gryphon!” Rog pointed into the observation deck, where Nira was wrapping up her discussion. “You’ve got better hearing than us, and you kept snarling and clawing things, so whatever they’re talking about must be serious.” The gnoll folded his arms. “So what is it?” 

“Oh.” Malaresh tossed his head. “It’s private. None of your business.” 

“But you’re listening.” 

The dragon smiled. “Of course I am. I’m a dragon, which means everything on this ship is my business.” 

“He wasn’t listening.” Sivik, one of two female gryphons seated behind him, stretched her wing towards the dragon. “He was thinking about his boyfriend. He always gets like that when he starts thinking about Jirril.” 

“I was not thinking about my boyfriend!” The dragon snarled at her. How dare she assume the truth. “Jirril is not my boyfriends! Dragons do not have boyfriends!” He paused, then gave a throaty growl, frustrated. “That is, we would not use that term. I would say he is my mate, which he is not.” He bared his fangs at her, frills flared. “He is my servant and concubine!” 

“Oh?” Lissir, the other female gryphon, and Sivik’s sister, cocked her head. “I’ll tell him you said that, then.” 

“Don’t you dare!” Malaresh stomped a forepaw against the floor, cracking a few boards. “I’m already in trouble with him for calling him that earlier!” 

That only provoked a round of squawking laughter from the female gryphons. 

Malaresh hissed, stomping his forepaw again. “Oh, suck my majestic cock, the both of you!” 

“Oh, we might consider it…” Sivik said, her crown feathers lifted. “But, you know…” 

Lissir picked up for her, ears splayed in smug amusement. “We wouldn’t want to make you boyfriend jealous!”

Both sisters burst into another round of laughter.

Malaresh turned his attention away from the gryphons, curling his tail around his paws. He forced himself to return his focus to Nira’s conversation with Alakor. It was nearly over, and the gryphon seemed to have earned at least a little bit of Nira’s trust. Malaresh hoped the bird hadn’t earned too much of it, as he remained convinced Alakor was hiding a number of potential dangerous secrets. Then again, Malaresh also knew he might not ever fully trust a snow gryphon. Still, between Nira’s conversation just now and his own heart to heart with the bird the night before, Malaresh was willing to give Alakor the benefit of the doubt, if nothing else. The princess soon returned from the observation deck, and Malaresh moved back to give her room. 

Nira gazed around at the others as she entered the wide corridor. “Well…” She took a deep breath, and ran a hand across her slightly frazzled hair. “That was interesting.” 

Malaresh lowered his head to eye-level with her. “I do not believe that went as you intended.” 

The Princess grimaced, then pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, dragon, it did not.” 

Rog approached and put a hand upon her shoulder, offering her a comforting squeeze. “Hopefully you got something out of him, at least?” 

“Yes, and no.” Nira set her hand atop his, smiling at him. Then she glanced up at the dragon again. “Weren’t you listening?”

“I did, but I was not passing on your every shared word.” The dragon licked his muzzle. “I will leave you to decide which you share, and which you will keep to yourself.”

“Suppose I appreciate that.” Nira patted the dragon’s muzzle. “Thank you for your support, by the way. As much as I’m sure you don’t appreciate being dragged here only to sit by the wayside the whole time, I’m glad we didn’t have to involve you any more as incentive to stay honest.” 

The dragon nodded once. “I, too, am pleased you were not in danger, though I am disappointed I did not have an excuse to kick his feathery ass again.” 

Nira chuckled, stepping back from the dragon. “I’m sure you’ll have another chance, eventually.” She held a hand up. “But do try to get along with him. I asked him to do the same with you.”

“I will do my best.” The dragon pushed himself up onto all fours, shaking his scaled body. His wings rustled at his sides. “However, I will now question him myself.”

Nira scowled, resting her hands against her pistols. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I’m not totally sure where his mind’s at, right now, after what he just told me.” 

“Which is why I would like to now speak to him, alone.” Malaresh stretched his front legs out before himself, lowering his chest. He yawned, his tongue curling in his muzzle. When his stretch ended, he rose, then stretched out his hind legs one at a time. It was a shame something important had to interrupt his comfortable lounging. “While he’s still relatively off-guard.” 

Nira glanced back towards the observation deck. “Dare I ask what you want to talk to him about?”

Malaresh licked his nose. “Jirril urged me to seek common ground, as it were, to further my truce with the snow pidgeon.” Malaresh snorted, flattening his ears. He was not fond of the idea, but he’d promised Jirril he would try. “So I shall do so.”

Nira set her hand on the dragon’s shoulder. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Lissir gave a playful cool. “I think that’s Malaresh’s way of saying, his boyfriend ordered him to be friendly.”

“Stuff a cannon under your tailfeathers, bird!” Malaresh tossed his head. “Dragons do not take orders from their boyfriends! Jirril makes suggestions, which I decline, and then pretend to have come up with, as befits a dragon.” 

Lissir only smiled, lifting her crown feathers. “So you admit he is your boyfriend.”

Malaresh stomped a forepaw again, and the already cracked floorboards creaked ominously. “I admit nothing! Besides, I had follow up questions to ask Alakor, anyway.” 

Sivik whispered to her sister, just loud enough for the dragon to hear. “Questions like, what do gryphons fancy, that he can get his boyfriend for their anniversary?” 

The dragon flared up all his spines. “I will pluck you bald, you squawking chicken.” He glanced at Nira when the gryphons only laughed at his threat. “There were things I thought to ask, during your conversation. But I simply thought it best to let you handle it alone, that you might earn his trust. Now that you’ve done so, I can I ask him my own questions without squandering your goodwill.” 

Rog gently put a hand on Nira’s arm. “Yeah, Princess. I think the dragon’s right. Let him be the asshole, here.” 

“Thank you, gnoll.” Malaresh narrowed his eyes, glaring down at the smaller creature. “I think. Not exactly what I meant, but-”

“It’s like the old interrogation routine, back in the palace.” Rog gestured between Nira and himself. “Good officer, bad officer. Only…” He switched to indicating the princess and the dragon. “Now it’s trusted princess, asshole dragon.” 

Malaresh rumbled a low, growling threat. “Do not call me that a third time.” 

Nira stepped between them, holding her hands up. “Please don’t get started.” She pivoted towards the dragon, her eyes searching him. “What Alakor said, about the sun. He said the idea came from dragons, first. Did you ever hear anything like that, when you were younger?”

“Yes.” Malaresh softened his voice, his wings sagging at his sides. “Though I was not part of a clan, I still heard tales. They were as he said. That the colors were different, once. That it’s red-gold fire was once…just gold.” 

“Princess?” Sivik stepped forward, looking between the two of them. “What…what are you talking about?” 

Nira turned towards the others. “Alakor told me the sun is fading. And…that the Union proved it.” 

“Fading?” Lissir followed her sister towards the princess. “What the hell does that mean?” 

Nira rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Maybe it’s not even true. Maybe-”

“The sun is dying, Princess.” Malaresh turned his eyes to each of them in turn. “That is what it means. That is what dragons believed, even when I was younger. All things die, in time, and the sun is no exception.” 

“That’s stupid!” Rog snarled, though the sound was more of fearful frustration than anything else. “The sun can’t die. It’s-”

“It’s what?” Malaresh sharpened his voice, claws half unsheathed. “Go ahead, gnoll, explain to me exactly what the sun is. Describe to me its properties! How it exists, what fuels it, what elements is it composed of?”

Rog scratched at his ruff, sighing. “I…I don’t know. Never really studied science, or astronomy.” 

“Everything dies, gnoll.” The dragon lifted a paw, flicking a claw the rest of the way out. “Imagine a great fire, stoked eternally with coal. But when happens when there’s no more coal to burn? Little by little, the flames subside to embers, and the embers slowly fade. Until, at last, the fire dies.” 

“Fuck.” Rog took a slow breath, then dragged his hands down his muzzle. “And…and that’s happening? To us? To the sun?” 

“Easy, Rog.” Nira put a hand on the gnoll’s chest, smiling. “It’s only a theory.” She shot the dragon a dark look, but the cold hollow in her eyes told him she worried it might well be more than that. “Even if the sun is fading, and I’ve yet to see even the smallest shred of proof that it is, it’s not like any of us could change that.” She looked around at everyone else. “Even if the gryphon’s right, that means it’s been happening for centuries, at least. So even if it is somehow getting dimmer, it’s not likely to even affect us in our lifetimes.” Nira turned back towards the dragon. “Right?” 

Malaresh only shrugged his wings. He had heard these tales in his youth, and lived much of his life with the concept hidden away, in the back of his mind. As the Princess herself said, there was nothing to be done about it, truth or not truth. He saw no reason to argue with her. 

“So, for now,” Nira said, gesturing at everyone. “Let’s keep this to ourselves. I’ll tell the other officers, when I get a chance. But I don’t want the whole crew to hear about it. I sure as hell don’t want to start a panic over something no one in the whole world could change even if its true.” 

“Suppose you got a point.” Rog swallowed, his ears flat. “Still, s’creepy as hell to hear.” 

“Yeah.” Nira grimaced, rubbing her arms when a shiver racked her. “It is.”

“Either grow accustomed to the idea, or find a way to forget it, for your own well-being.” Malaresh bowed his head to the princess. “Now, if you’ve nothing further for me, I am going to speak to the snow gryphon.” He lifted his head, then turned it to glare at the two females. “Alone.”

Lissir met his glare with her own. “We’re his guards, Dragon.” 

Nira patted Malaresh’s shoulder. “I think our scaly friend here can serve that role for a little while, at least. Acceptable?” 

Malaresh rumbled, a low, frustrated sound. “No. But I will accept, nonetheless, if I must.” 

“You did say you wanted to make friends, right?” Sivik laughed, flashing him an open beaked smile. “Now’s your chance!” 

“That is definitely not what I said.” Malaresh glared at her.

Nira scratched at the gryphon’s neck. “Quit teasing the poor dragon.” Then she waved down the hall. “Come on, you girls can come with Rog and me. And Malaresh?” She bowed her head to him, then shook a finger. “Thank you again for your help, but if you learn anything important, I want to hear it immediately.” 

“As you wish, girl.” Malaresh tossed his head. “Go on, then. The more time you waste, the longer he has to collect himself and better guard against my questions.” 

Nira just rolled her eyes, hooking an arm around Rog’s waist. “Alright. Let’s go find the others. I’m gonna need you and Amelia to draw up tactical plans, and Kasis and Vekk to plot multiple courses for escape if things go badly.” The princess paused, glancing back towards the dragon. “And you know what? I’m gonna authorize your damn bombs.”

Malaresh smiled, excitement welling up in his chest. How long had it been since he’d gotten to not only incinerate something, but blow it up, as well. “Oh, Princess, you have made my whole damn day.” He couldn’t wait. 

“Thought you’d appreciate that.” Nira flashed him a devious smile. “After all, we gotta stay ahead of this Executor, one way or another. I don’t care how damn Sanctified she is. If it comes to it, you blow her the hell up.” 

Malaresh bowed his head, snarling in barely contained delight. “With absolute pleasure, your highness.” 

*****

Executor Harliss stared at the gray-blue dragon in silence, waiting for him to continue. She savored the way the beast shifted his weight, rustling his wings in nervous discomfort. It was a pleasure to see such a monster unnerved by her very presence. Harliss was all too happy to let that anxious uncertainty weigh heavily upon him. The longer it took him to reply, the more honest she expected him to be. 

“A deal.” Prav finally gave a low, guttural sigh. He curled his tail around his paws, staring back at her. “Your runaway gryphon offered me a deal.” He growled through grit teeth. “That I did not accept.” 

“I didn’t ask if you accepted or not.” Harliss rubbed her hands together, then reached forward, and poured a shot of whiskey. She held it out to the kobold, even as she watched the dragon. “What did Alakor offer?” 

Nok walked over, snatched the glass from her hand, and downed it in a single pull. She expected nothing less. It was a peace offering, of sorts, after each tried to spare the other the humiliation of a concession. He thumped the glass back onto the table, then wiped his muzzle with the back of a hand. He turned to his place alongside Prav, and gave Harliss a small nod.

Prav watched the kobold the whole time. “Oh, the usual sort of things that might draw my attention.” When Nok was back in position, Prav glared down at his table of food and drink as if suddenly irritated by the sight of it. “Alakor passed word through my people that he was looking to sell Union secrets, and access to advanced technology and weapons. That he had buyers who’d be interested in moving them for me. Possibly even Union ships to add to my collection.” He snorted, tail tip flicking repeatedly against the floor. “As interested as I was, it would be harder to claim neutrality if my people were hitting Union weapon shipments, or riding about in hijacked Union airships.” 

Harliss listened, her head tilted. She let the dragon speak at his own pace now, prodding only when she wasn’t sure he was filling in as many blanks as she expected him to. “I’m sure you’ve had that sort of offer before.” 

“I have.” Prav rustled his wings, still staring at the table. “At first, I assumed it nothing more than entrapment, the Union trying to pin something actionable on me through a spy feigning defection.”

The Executor flashed him a playful smile. “I wouldn’t put it past them. You’re quite the thorn in our collective asses.” She glanced at Tormin and Evlee. “Well, the Union’s ass, anyway.”

Prav looked up, his pale eyes narrowed, ears flat. “You say that as if you aren’t Union.” 

“Let’s just say I don’t always agree with their every policy.” Harliss swirled a finger in the air. “I understand that there is such a thing as a necessary evil. But we’ll circle back around to that, soon enough. Go on. What did the bird say that finally convinced you to meet with him?”

“He moved onto more interesting things.” Prav licked his nose, tapping his fingers against the floor. “First, he offered the possibility of alliances, with powerful forces from across the seas.” 

“Who?” The Executor leaned towards the dragon. “Names, Prav.” 

Prav continued tapping claws. “One of the primary powers from across the sea. Shevar or Diandrios, perhaps. Along with another possibility.”

Harliss sharpened her tone. “Don’t leave things out, Prav.” She wasn’t about to let the dragon return to his evasive ways.

“Did you know there’s an entire empire of dragons, now?” Prav turned his head, gazing into the distance as though peering through the walls, and into the great world beyond. “Imagine that. An entire empire of us, all working together. Building cities, ships.” A smoldering edge crept into his voice. “Armies. Imagine what an entire army of dragons, backed by modern machinery, by electricity, could accomplish.”

Harliss shrugged, careful to keep her body language as casual as could be. The Union was well-aware of that burgeoning empire, but for the time being, did not consider them an immediate threat. They were oceans away. Not just oceans of sea, and salt, but of great clouds of roiling, freezing death. There were trade routes between continents, of course, hazardous as they may be. But even dotted with islands, ships were usually required to cross them. If Alakor had somehow met with their agents, if they were more openly exploring routes to the Union’s continent, that might change things. 

“We’re aware of their existence, yes.” Harliss crossed her arms. She had to be careful here, not willing to give Prav an iota more information than he already had. “What about them?” 

“Your bird.” Prav’s tone remained sharp, dangerous. “He’s met with some of their representatives. Seems to think he could broker an alliance between their people…” Prav swept a wing around the room. “And mine. That if I would help them establish a foothold here, they would help protect me from the Union.”

“Interesting.” Harliss idly tugged at the gold-hemmed sleeve of her white jacket. “Misguided, but interesting. Go on.” 

The dragon shifted his weight, like a hound resting on its haunches, impatient to be fed. “I considered that he might still be trying to entrap me, but my interest was piqued. So I asked around, and was told that this particular snow gryphon had been here a number of times. And that several of those visits coincided with the arrival of guests from across the seas. Gryphons, mostly, but a dragon or two as well. A few witnesses even placed them together.” 

Evlee twisted in her chair, peering over at Tormin. “You hear that, Tormin? People are paying attention to what’s happening in the tavern! Why, surely it couldn’t be all those big-eared urd’thin slinking everywhere.”

Tormin waved her off. “Nah, they’re just whores and servants. Nothing suspicious about them at all. Private conversations in this place are definitely private.” 

Evlee nodded her agreement. “Oh, yes, if Alakor met enemy gryphon gryphon agents, he definitely didn’t do so with the expectation that the urd’thin would see it, and listen in, and report back to Prav.” 

“Right.” Tormin smiled at Evlee. “He definitely wouldn’t try to play the dragon like that.”

Prav snorted. “Your sarcasm is noted, and ignored.” 

“These agents,” Harliss said, watching the dragon carefully. “Were they with the cultists?” 

“They were the cultists.” Prav curled his neck a little, hissing through his teeth. “Where do you think the Servants of the Sun-Feather come from?” Prav waved his paw. “What better way to shroud your real allegiance than some apocalyptic cult? Everyone just thinks you’re crazy, and ignores you.” 

Harliss furrowed her brow. “So they weren’t really Servants of the Sun-Feather? They were just posing, to hide their allegiance to the Empire of Dragons?”

Prav lifted his paws. “In truth, I could not tell you, because I do not know. I suspect they’re both. Agents for the Empire of Dragons, who are also Servants of the Sun-Feather. I’ve heard an awful lot of odd rumors, after all. “He set his forepaws back down. “The point is, gryphons from across the seas met multiple times with Alakor. That lent enough credence to his offers to for me to take him seriously, and agree to meet with him.”

Harliss leaned back, considering things. Coaldust had made it sound as if Alakor was trying to meet with the cultists for the first time. Now, Harliss couldn’t help but wonder if she’d misinterpreted things. Perhaps the gryphon had already been meeting with them, and this time, he’d simply arrived too late? 

“So, he put word out that he could offer you alliances with distant nations, to protect you from the Union. You looked into him, saw reason to believe him, and invited him back here.” Harliss shifted her weight, hooking an arm over the back of her chair. “Yet you also claim you turned him down. And I get the feeling it wasn’t just because you were afraid of pissing off the Union.”

“No,” Prav said, shaking his head. “It was not. It was because the more we talked, the more I started believed your bird had genuinely fallen in with that Sun-Feather cult, and their golden goddess. By the time he offered me…” He turned his muzzle towards the kobold, gazing down at him. “What was he said, Nok? An escape?” 

The kobold grunted. “Escape. From a broken world.” 

“Right, that was it.” Prav returned his gaze to Harliss, his muzzle once more parted in a predator’s wide, toothy smile. “When I turned down his offer of alliances I was not sure he could genuinely provide, he offered me something else.” Prav swept his paw through the air in a grand gesture, illustrating unseen propaganda. “An escape from this broken world, and it’s dying sun.”

Harliss’s blood went cold. She knew Alakor had gotten his paws on documents he shouldn’t, but she hadn’t realized just how much the bird had learned. She forced a smile to match the dragon’s. “And you turned that down, too?” 

“Well, I’m still here, aren’t I?” Prav made a show of looking around himself, then snarled. “I damn sure haven’t escaped anything.” He shook his head. “No, once he offered that I knew he was either crazy, or I was in way over my head. If you ask me, it’s the first one.” Prav scratched at his neck with a wing tip, leaning into it. “I think that cult got to him, on one of his solitary missions, and replaced your people’s brainwashing with your own.” When his itch was soothed, the dragon shrugged his wings. “That’s only my opinion, though. For all I know, he might well be playing that cult for his own purposes, too.” 

Harliss scowled, rubbing her forehead. The more she learned about what Alakor had been doing, the less certain she was about what he had planned. One thing was clear, though. He wasn’t running away. Harliss had no reason to doubt that he had defected to Princess Nira and her great ship, but to what end? It wasn’t just escape, no matter what he knew, or what he offered. Revenge, perhaps, on the Union. That much was understandable, and yet revenge was something far simpler than what he seemed to be wrapped up in. 

Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe it was just about revenge. Harliss had read Alakor’s files in detail, before this. They made it clear he had suffered immensely under the Union. In his younger days, he’d lost someone dear to him named Remiir. In their usual clinical way, the files simply listed them as friends, and squad mates, but Harliss knew how to read between the lines. She suspected Alakor and Remiir were lovers, once. And when they put down Remiir for desertion, they tore something valuable from Alakor. Harliss doubted he was ever the same, again. 

Revenge certainly fit, and yet…

If that was all it was, why the connections to the cult? To agents from over the seas? Was he looking to build a life for himself, after his revenge? Or was he looking to build something larger, something to stand up to the Union on a great level? Just what the hell was he weaving? How long had he been sowing these seeds? How many places had he been, telling people what they wanted to hear, playing a part for all to see and believe in? 

Harliss felt as if she was trying to assemble some great, clockwork machine, with no blueprint and only half the gears and cogs. She needed to catch that damn bird, and soon. Somehow, even then she doubted she’d get all the answers. But if nothing else, at least that would put a stop to his plans. For now, she had to move on. 

She sighed, and fixed her attention once more on the dragon. “So, this escape, as he called it.” Harliss poured herself some water, then settled back with the glass. “And everything else he offered. What was to be your end of the bargain? You haven’t said what he wanted in return?” 

“Nothing.” An odd smile flittered across the dragon’s muzzle, his ears lifting ever so slightly. “He wanted me to do nothing, at all.” 

Harliss took a drink of water, an odd little shiver running through her. All at once, Prav was looking at her like a spider, watching a fly dance at the very edge of its web, ever so close to disaster. Tormin and Evlee must have seen it, too, because their hands drifted towards their guns once again. Nok slowly unfolded his arms, and rested his hands upon his own pistols.

“Go on.” Harliss gestured with her glass, and took another drink. “Nothing can’t mean nothing.” 

“Oh, but it does.” The dragon stretched a wing, gazing at her impassively. “All he asked for was my blessing. And for my complete inaction.” 

Harliss tightened her fingers around her glass. “Blessing for what?”

“To ambush you, and your ships, and kill you all.” The dragon’s smile returned, more eager than ever, delighting in the fact the fly had finally been snared. “Why do you think he’s left a trail to be investigated? Why do you think he’s defecting to The Cataclysm? Because he wants to bring the fucking sky down on anyone from the Union who comes looking for him.” 

“You son of a bitch!” Tormin snarled, on his feet in an instant, lifting his scattergun towards Prav’s head. 

Nok was faster. In half a blink, he had two pistols out and aimed at Tormin before the big man even had his weapon halfway raised. “Sit the fuck down, you bloated ogre!” 

Tormin reddened, his fingers tensing. When he did not sit, Harliss stood instead. She made sure Nok could see her hands were empty, then reached out, and rested one against the barrel of Tormin’s gun. She pressed down, and he slowly lowered it, then sank back into his seat with a growl. Harliss returned to her seat as well. 

She glanced at Nok. “Not bad. Not bad at all.” 

Nok nodded without taking his eyes off Tormin. “Appreciated.” 

Harliss folded her arms, giving him a playful smile. “Not bad wouldn’t cut it against me, though.” 

Nok only shrugged. “I figured I’d give Grampa Scripture a chance. I’da drawn a lot faster on you.” 

“Good. Because you’d have to.” Harliss looked Tormin over. “Take a breath.” 

Tormin did so, only to let it back out in a long, growling sigh. “Aren’t you worried about what the dragon just said?” 

“I would be,” Harliss said, giving Tormin a stern look. “If he hadn’t expressed to us repeatedly that he turned the offer down.” 

“And now you know why I didn’t want to tell you the offer in the first place.” Prav lashed his tail, upending a few more cushions. “Because that’s exactly the sort of reaction I expected.” He laughed, the sound low and rumbling. “Not that I didn’t enjoy springing that on you.”

“You’re a piece of shit, Prav.” Tormin rested his gun across his lap again, still grumbling under his breath. 

“Two curses?” Prav put a paw to his chest, cooing. “Awww, I think I hurt his pious feelings, Nok.” 

“Seems that way.” Nok glared at Tormin a little longer, waggling his pistols. “If I draw these again, it won’t end the same way. So don’t make me.” He tucked them back into the holsters, then glanced at Evlee. “You either.” 

“What did I do?” Evlee huffed, tossing her hair. “For that matter, what didn’t I do? I feel a little insulted you didn’t point one of those at me.”

“Nah,” the kobold said, shaking his little red-scaled head. “You act crazy, but you aren’t really that rash. You’d pull one just for show. The big man, though.” He inclined his muzzle towards Tormin. “He only lifts that thing when he means it.” 

Prav hissed at his smaller enforcer. “You should have aimed one at the Executor, just in case.” He glanced at Harliss. “No offense, Executor, just speaking practically.” 

Harliss held her hands up. “None taken.”

“Nah.” The kobold shrugged, watching Harliss. “Didn’t need to. We got a thing going.” 

Harliss only smiled. “Concur.” 

Prav swung his head back and forth, studying Nok and Harliss in turn. “I’m starting to wonder if you two want to shoot each other, fuck each other, or both!” 

Harliss arched a brow. “Well, I’ve shot kobolds before, but I’ve never fucked one. Suppose there’s a first time for everything.” 

Nok gave her a blank stare. “You couldn’t handle me.” 

Prav snorted, shaking his wings. “You’d murder each other halfway through, anyway.” He clacked his teeth for their attention. “The Executor was right, a moment ago. I did turn the gryphon down. Alakor asked for my blessing to ambush Union ships on my lands, and in my skies. He further asked that I refrain from joining in on either side, so that I might maintain my neutrality in the Union’s eyes, for as long as possible. I politely declined.” 

Tormin leaned forward, fire still glowing in his eyes. “To which part?” 

The dragon snarled, lifting his red splotched frills. “I refused to grant him permission to stage any such ambush here.” 

“Did you also decline to stay out of any battle?” Tormin gripped his gun till his knuckles stood out white against the skin. “Meaning, you would pick a side, should a skirmish break out?” 

“Is that a trick question?” The dragon tossed his head. “What are you, out of interrogation techniques?”

Harliss held up a hand, and Tormin clamped his jaws shut. “Tormin’s right, in a way, even if you don’t want to admit it, Prav. You may have refused to allow Alakor to stage an ambush here, but we all know that bird doesn’t give one shit whether you’ve given your blessing or not.” 

Prav shrugged his wings, then made a show of gazing at the back of a forepaw. “I certainly can’t be held responsible for the actions of any renegade Princess who may, or may not be led here by a defecting spy.” He flourished the same paw in a circular motion. “Such a wild chain of events would be completely out of my hands.” 

“You could, however,” Harliss said, careful to keep her voice even. “Be held responsible for stalling us.” She reached forward, and selected a piece of candied fruit, waving it at the dragon. “If that was what you were doing.” She popped the fruit into her mouth. 

Evlee picked up for her. “And if said stalling was done to ensure we were still whenever said ambush happened.” 

Prav only smiled at them. “I’m not stalling you. Leave any time you like. Get in your ship and go now, if you wish. Though, I don’t think there’s any big hurry. I’d say you have at least three or four days.” He glanced down at Nok, who nodded. “But I wouldn’t stick around any longer than that. I’d avoid the Broken Teeth a while, too.” 

“Oh, Prav,” Harliss said, rubbing her hands together. “Why would I leave if the two people I’ve been searching for are going to be coming right to me? No, no, no.” Harliss clucked her tongue. “We’re not going anywhere.” 

“Suit yourself, Executor.” Prav sat up straighter, curling his tail around his paws. “I’d rather you left, myself. I don’t really want to deal with the Union’s anger if an Executor ship gets blown out of the sky in my territory. Still, not like I can stop that crazy Princess Nira from doing as she pleases. I’ll be sure to have most your ship’s debris collected and returned to the Union.” He smirked, glancing down at the kobold. “Though, a few choice, valuable bits of technology might sadly be lost forever.”

“Ever pragmatic, eh Prav?” Harliss smoothed out her jacket’s sleeves, casual as could be. “Oh, there was one more thing I wanted to discuss. And now that I know The Cataclysm’s on it’s way-”

“Possibly on it’s way,” Prav said, still smiling. “I certainly forbid it, but I can’t say for certain.” 

Harliss propped her boots up on the table, ignoring him. “Now that I know The Cataclysm’s on it’s way, I think it’s time I present you my deal.” 

The dragon’s smile dropped from his muzzle in an instant. “I’m not making any deal with the Union.” 

Once more, Harliss completely ignored his protests. “You see, I very much need to meet this Princess Nira, face to face. Alakor, too. The fact they’re coming together is too good an opportunity to pass up. But I’m going to need to make a few preparations, and for that, I’m going to need your help.” 

“I would not count on it, Executor.” 

“Ah, but you haven’t even heard my deal yet.” Harliss folded her hands behind her head, grinning. “And I promise you, Prav, this is not the sort of deal you want to refuse.”