Sins of the Father Part Two: Chapter Fourteen (Patreon)

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Chapter Fourteen

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Deg stared at his sister, confusion etched across his muzzle. One ear was perked, the other splayed to the side of his head. His gaze wandered down towards Airn’s belly, then back up towards her face. For a few moments, he worked his jaw in silence, opening and closing his muzzle several times as if he simply could not force words across his tongue.

“What?” Airn tilted her head. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She poked Deg’s chest. “Don’t tell me you disagree.”

Deg slowly shook his head. “Nah, sis, I completely agree. This is our city too, and I ain’t about to hide in some hole while it burns. And I sure as hell ain’t gonna help spread the flames. But…” He gestured towards her stomach. “You, uh…”

“Hmm?” Airn glanced down at herself. “Don’t tell me I’ve suddenly developed an embarrassingly place hole in my dress or something. I’d hate to have to go patch it in an alley before we meet our friends.”

Deg chuckled. “Nah, nothing like that. I guess maybe you didn’t even notice what you said.”

“What are you talking about, Deg?” Airn adjusted her dress, looking it over just in case.

“Daughter.” Deg gently brushed his fingers down Airn’s arm. “You said, your daughter’s home. Not your pup’s home, your daughter’s.”

Airn stilled. In the moment, wreathed in the throes of determination, she hadn’t even noticed. “Oh…” She trailed her fingers over her belly. “So I did.”

“Are you just…” Deg licked his muzzle. “Guessing? Or…?”

“I…” Airn’s hand settled above her stomach. Daughter. Her daughter. She wasn’t entirely sure how, but it sounded right. It sounded true. As if in response, a tiny hint of rolling warm exuded from somewhere in her belly. Airn scrunched her face, wondering if she’d imagined that. Somehow, given her pup’s parentage, she doubted it. “I think I’m going to have a daughter, Deg.” She lifted a hand to silence him before he could question her. “I don’t know how I know, I just…” She splayed her ears. “Know. Maybe I dreamed of her, without ever even knowing it.”

Thus far, Airn had tried not to think too hard about what her pup’s heritage might actually mean. Missing Vakaal was difficult enough as it was, without contemplating the deeper ramifications of his particular bloodline. For all she knew, it was entirely possible her pup would be a completely normal urd’thin, with nothing strange or supernatural about her. But then again, it was just as possible she wouldn’t be normal. And given that Airn quite suddenly seemed to know her unborn child was female, those odds suddenly seemed to be growing. Airn grimaced. She was going to have to tell Deg the truth about Vakaal eventually.

“Actually, Deg, I think there may be another reason I know I’m having a daughter.” She gently grasped Deg’s hand. “When we have time to ourselves, there’s something I need to talk to you about. Something I’ve kept-”

“Gross!” A familiar voice called out from nearby, cutting her off. “You two know siblings ain’t supposed to act like mates, right?”

Airn turned towards the voice, releasing Deg’s hand. “I was just holding his hand, Nark. That’s a comforting gesture in a difficult time, nothing more.”

Another urd’thin quickly trotted towards them. It was Nark, one of their close friends, and part of Airn’s personal circle of operatives. Like many of Airn’s ancestral tribe, Nark’s fur had shades of brown layered through it, though his was more of a rusty reddish brown. It faded to gray across his hands, feet, and the tips of his tail and ears. Between his fur coloration, his lean build, and his slender muzzle, Airn always thought he resembled some sort of odd, mixed breed fox. Like Airn and her brother, Nark was well dressed today, in a deep green vest, edged in gold, with matching pants.

Nark held up his hands as he approached. “Hey, whatever you’re into, I ain’t judging.” He came to a stop, laughing to himself.

“Just shut up, Nark.” Deg crossed his arms, glaring at the new arrival.

Nark grinned, but did not push his jest any further. “Where the hell have you two been, anyway? I was worried some guard snatched you.”

“It’s my fault,” said Airn and Deg both, almost at the same time.

“I wanted to stop in the bakery,” Deg said.

Airn shushed him. “I’m the one who slept in.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got a pup coming.” Deg put a hand on her arm. “You need your sleep. I didn’t need those cookies, so it’s my fault.”

“Let’s just both take the blame.” Airn turned back towards Nark. “The point is, we’re both sorry we’re so late.”

Nark glanced between the a few times. “Oh, that’s why you’re late. Cause you keep stopping to do…” He gestured back and forth. “All this.” Then he glanced at Deg, grinning. “You know, you’re lucky you and your sister get along so well. When I argue with my sister, she just smacks me in the balls.”

Airn laughed, swishing her tail against her brother. “Oh, I’ve done that to Deg too. I just prefer to use it as a last resort.” She smirked at him. “Or when he’s really making an ass of himself.”

Deg chuckled. “Which is never. Where’s everyone else?”

Nark pointed back the way he’d come. “Stuffing themselves on fish and free booze.”

Airn scrunched her muzzle. “I hope no one gets too drunk. It’s a long walk home from here, even in the tunnels. And some of those bridges are dangerous enough when you’re sober, let alone…” She trailed off when Deg and Nark only stared at her. After a moment, she tossed her hands up. “You know what? Never mind. I’d get drunk too, if I could. So lead on, Nark.”

“About damn time!” Nark turned away, his bushy, gray tipped tail swishing. “Let’s go already!”

Airn followed Nark as he hurriedly made his way back up the street. As they approached the district’s central plaza, signs of celebration became more and more apparent. Colorful ribbons decorated every lamppost and tree limb. Vibrant bouquets were tied to the arms of benches. Children with faces painted with dragons and rain drops ran about, ringing golden bells. Vendors strolled the streets selling golden-flecked apples dipped in melted sugar. Musicians wandered the lanes, playing pipes and horns, strumming lutes and banging on drums. Newly painted signs were strung up over the streets. One of them read, Freedom At Last. Artisans were busy painting a grand mural on the side of a multi-story housing complex. It depicted a black dragon in flight against a starry backdrop. Beneath it, half-finished letters appeared to say, The Dread Sky Rises.

Roaming vendors were everywhere. Some set up stalls wherever there was room. Others pushed wheeled carts around. They sold almost anything Airn could imagine. There were toys for children available, along with bells and chimes and other little instruments. Other merchants offered sweets and candy, while a makeshift showcased grilled meats and drinks made with fresh fruit. A trio of youngsters sold flags on sticks to waved around by revelers, while a parent supervised nearby.

As the crowds grew denser near the festival’s main grounds, Airn was delighted to see a large number of urd’thin mingling amongst them. Despite her fears that her people made easy targets for recruitment, it was still a joy to see them so welcomed by the local humans. Everywhere she looked, there were urd’thin in patchwork clothes browsing shops and vendors, clapping along with street musicians, clambering up poles and trees for better views of street performers. Some of them had woven ribbons into their tails, or around their ears. Others had flags sticking out of pockets, or bells jingling around their wrists and ankles. Several food stalls were offering free meals to urd’thin who lacked the coin to pay.

Here and there were a few other species Airn had rarely seen in person. A trio of tall, wolf-like koraa’gi waited for skewers of grilled meat to finish cooking. One of them, with gray and white fur, extolled to his friends the virtues of aran’alian spices. In another direction, a burly gnoll with notched ears and a broad muzzle wandered from an ale vendor, to a wine booth, buying drinks at each. The black diamonds across his red and silver jerkin matched the black spots on his otherwise beige fur. A large group of kobolds, little bipedal lizards even shorter than Airn, chatted away as they examined a jewelry merchant’s wares.

Deg nudged her, pointing towards the kobolds. “Are those va’chaak pups?”

Airn shook her head. “I don’t think so. Pretty sure they’re kobolds. Must be visitors from one of the far continents, like the gnolls.”

Deg scrunched up his face, ears flat. “Poor bastards. Came all the way across the seas and ended up in Illandra? There’s gotta be at least one city that hates non-human less than they do around here.”

“At least they ended up in the right part of the city.” Airn watched them a moment longer. When one of them spotted her, she smiled at him and waved. “Hello!”

“Hello, urd’thin!” The kobold, a male with blue scales and a silver vest, trotted over. “I have question. You can answer, maybe?”

Airn couldn’t help grinning. She wondered if that was how most urd’thin sounded to the average human, when they spoke the local language. “I’d be happy to answer, if I can.”

“Clothes!” He looked her over, then looked at Deg and Nark. He licked his blue scaled nose, then turned his sharp amber eyes back to Airn. “Where get?”

Airn blinked, one ear flattened. “Where do I get my clothes?”

“Yes!” He swept a hand, indicating Airn’s dress. Then he did the same for Deg’s tunic, and Nark’s vest. “Very nice clothes. And right size. Everything…” He stretched his hands out. “Too big! Where you get nice clothes this size?”

“Ah!” Airn fetched the map Deg handed her, studying it. She handed it to the kobold. “We’re right here. Near this intersection.” She circled it with a dull claw tip. “If you follow this street…” She dragged her finger across the map, then tapped a clothing shop labeled as being urd’thin friendly. “They should be able to help you. It’s not where my dress came from, but it is where my brother and our friend got their clothing. Also, there’s probably vendors that have urd’thin sized things, today. Those ought to fit you.”

The kobold studied the map he took, his eyes tracing the route back and forth. “Thank you!” He tried to hand it back to Airn.

She pushed it away. “No, no. You take it. You need it more than I do.”

“Thank you, thank you!” The blue-scaled lizard gave a little bow, and then scurried back to his friends to show them the map.

Deg glowered at her, his arms folded. “That was my map, you know.”

Airn rolled her eyes. “I’ll give you mine, later. Now come on. I need some silver water, and a mountain of spiced fish.”

Nark led them onwards to the central plaza where the reveling crowd was at its most raucous. Truthfully, Airn had been to the ancient square at the heart of the Aran’alian district enough times to find her own way there. But she’d been in the lead most of the day, and she knew Nark had been waiting for their arrival. She was happy enough allowing him to guide them through the labyrinth of streets and alleys, especially with the way all the flags and placards, pop-up vendors, carts, stalls, barricades and decorations had transformed the district’s layout.

Along the way, Airn could not help but notice there were even more depictions of the familiar female blue dragon symbolizing Death in the Night than ever before. At every corner, across every intersection, The Wind was there. Airn imagined most of the locals the vagaries of her history. Along with the once kept prisoner beneath the city, The Wind once fought for Aran’alian’s freedom. But Airn doubted most of those around her realized she was still fighting for them. Most likely only knew her as Death in the Night’s figurehead.

But Airn knew better. Airn had read her book. Called The Uncaring Sky, it was written as if narrated by the dragon herself. Though the author was named as Amira Brightcloud, the dragon’s true name was Kylaryn. Her life wove a tale of crushing tragedy and soaring triumph, of perseverance in the face of unimaginable loss, and of strength and will beyond measure. Presented as a beautiful, heartrending story, Airn knew it was far more. Through her lost lover, Airn had learned that the story was true. Since then, she’d slowly pieced things together in her head. Not only was The Wind That Carries still out there, but Airn was fairly certain she was Death in the Night’s true leader.

Memories drifted through Airn’s head. She saw herself snuggled up to Vakaal, her lost lover. They read The Uncaring Sky together, and it had proven itself a revelation for both of them. Grief’s cold fingers squeezed her heart. How she missed him. After they’d finished the book, Vakaal had traveled for a time. Airn was fairly certain he may even have met with The Wind, but she was not sure. If so, part of Airn wished she could have traveled with him that time, as she had ventured to so many other exotic places at his side. But for some reason, that was one of the few places he refused to take her. Airn supposed he did not want her to meet with The Wind for the same reason she hadn’t wanted him to get involved with Death in the Night, before she knew who and what he truly was. In the end, each tried to protect the other from what they perceived as a danger beyond their understanding. How wrong they’d both been.

Whatever Kylaryn truly was to Death in the Night, here in Illandra she served mostly as an unending source of propaganda. Pictures of her hung from lamp poles. She stretched her wings in wide banners draped across streets. She cradled families in her protective embrace. The Wind Protects. She carried coin and food to the needy. The Wind Provides. She sheltered lines of refugees, marching away from burning villages. The Wind Remembers. She swooped across the five towered keep, bathing it in flames. The Wind Is Coming.

Airn stared at the last one a little while, her belly tightening. That one was new. Surely, though, it was only propaganda. Right? Whatever dark, worrisome thoughts were just beginning to form were quashed just as quickly when Deg snatched her arm and yanked her forward, bidding her to hurry. Airn pushed her concerns aside, for now, and followed the others onwards.

Soon, the monolithic Illandran oaks that encircled the marketplace like a defense wall came into view. They towered above the nearby buildings, their canopies sprawling out over roofs and chimneys. Massive roots left walls and cobbled roads alike buckled. In some areas, the roots themselves stretched across the roads in gnarled tangles, unperturbed by the generations of footfalls and wagon wheels that had worn them smooth.

In the midst of all the trees was an expansive circular plaza, larger even than the Warren’s marketplace. Each of the great trees sheltered another portion of it. Perhaps in preparation for the festival, some of the grounds surrounding the massive trunks had been freshly cleaned up and renovated. Brand-new benches painted green and gold replaced the crumbling, moss-slathered originals. The dead leaves and overgrown brush that Airn remembered from her first trips here was long gone. All the old statues had been studiously scrubbed free of grime and lichen, revealing the weathered marble and limestone beneath. Placards adorned them, identifying fallen folk heroes. Just as sterling were the stone archways leading to memorial chambers. New flagstones paved narrow lanes.

Other portions of the area were just as Airn remembered. Giggling children ran across wooden walkways, suspended between the ancient trees. Here and there, urd’thin did the same. Entire generations of wooden signs were affixed to the armor-like bark of one tree. The oldest signs were long faded, while vibrant red paint upon the newest had yet to finish drying. Many simply had the names of shops and taverns, with an arrow pointing towards it.

Dozens of permanent stalls surrounded some of the gargantuan oaks. Walls and support beams were nailed to the tree trunks, while wares hung from the lowest boughs. Vendors called out their best deals to Airn and her friends, each offering to undercut the next. Airn glanced at some of the vendors they passed, trying to keep track of which among them seemed particularly happy to host so many urd’thin customers. While they had a destination at the moment, before the day was done Airn hoped to patronize a few of the most hospitable merchants.

She saw an older woman with a stained apron eagerly explaining her vast array of colorful spices to an urd’thin mother, carrying her pup. A mated couple browsed knives and other weaponry. They struggled to speak the common tongue, but the smith made due by showing them a variety of implements well suited for someone their size. Another was holding up swaths of cloth against an urd’thin, comparing the colors to their fur. A few more of her people were busy haggling over a fine-looking cook pot.

In another area, the restaurant located at the base of a great tree had long since stained its host with smoke, and soot. The chefs there stored cookware on hooks and shelves affixed to the tree, while the roof was built amidst its branches. Yet despite the cloak of smoldering ash, the tree paid the daily cookfires no heed. Further up another tree, an entire tavern had been built amidst its branches. Rope bridges and swaying walkways led to other platforms partly obscured by leafy boughs. Drunken laughter spilled from the open air doorways. Airn wondered how often its patrons grew too inebriated to safely navigate the ladders back down.

Towards the plaza’s center, vast oilskin canopies dyed a deep green shielded the market from summer rains, and winter snows. Many of the local roofs were painted a similar shade, giving the place the appearance of being in the midst of rolling green hills. Long streamers of dazzling silver strung up everywhere looked like as though the infamous silver rains of Aran’alia were ever falling. Thanks to the festival, there were even more makeshift taverns and food vendors than usual occupying every available space. Some were simply set up under tarps, with a few old barrels serving as seats. Others were selling ales out of covered wagons. Marinated meats sizzled on skewers over open flames, while vegetables roasted beneath layers of coals. The tantalizing aromas of grilled meats and vegetables mingled with the scents of ale and wine. There was so much food and drink available that their smells nearly overwhelmed everything else.

“And here we are at last!” Nark swept his hand towards the bazaar’s heart, where some of its oldest and most renowned residents had long plied their trade. “They even got seating for urd’thin! How great is that?”

Airn quickly spotted her friend Livi’s distinctive, white-tipped ears among dozens of other urd’thin seated at a long communal table. Low slung benches ran on either side of it. Given its scale, Airn had a sneaking suspicion that the table and its bench alike were originally crafted to seat children. Nonetheless, she was not about to complain about having somewhere comfortable to sit that wouldn’t crick her tail, or leave her feet dangling off the ground. There were already plenty of unfamiliar urd’thin seated on both sides, but somehow her friends managed to keep space for three open around them. Livi sat on one side, with their other friend Ven seated opposite her. Each had a wooden plate heaped with grilled fish in front of them, with an empty plate alongside it. More plates marked open seats around them, along with mugs of drink.

“There you two are!” Livi hopped up on the bench, waving frantically. “Over here, over here!” The bright color of her oft-patched golden dress stood out just as much as her ears.

“They can definitely see you, Livi.” Ven waved for her to sit back down. “Your dress is brighter than the sun!”

Airn laughed as she joined her friends. She went to sit with Livi, while Deg and Nark walked around to Ven’s side of the bench. “I’m sorry we’re so late!” She eased onto the bench, her tail wagging a little. “But thank you for holding a spot for us!” She reached for the wooden mug. “And for getting me a drink…oh.” The mug was empty. Airn scrunched her muzzle and set it back down. “Or not.”

“Oh, that’s just there so no one steals your place.” Livi leaned over, patting Airn’s arm. “It did have ale in it.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “But I drank it.”

“Yes, I think I can tell.” Airn giggled to herself, then made a show of patting her belly. “It’s just as well you removed the temptation. I probably shouldn’t have alcohol for now, anyway.” She glanced at the empty plate. “I suppose you also ate my fish?”

Livi shook her head. “You never had any fish. That’s just a plate someone left behind that I stuck there.”

“I see.” Airn smirked at her friend, then pointed towards the plate heaped with food that rested in front of her. “I don’t suppose that’s for me, either?”

“Oh, no, no, no.” Livi quickly shook her head. “That’s my second helping. And I’m going to finish it even if my stomach explodes.”

Deg flopped own across from Airn. “I see how it is. We’re a couple minutes late, and they hog all the food.”

Ven glanced at Deg, grinning. “You were way more than a couple minutes later, and this isn’t near all the food. We had to wait in line for ages, for this, so we decided to make it worth our while.”

“Luckily for you two,” Nark said as he retook his own seat on the other side of Ven. “The line’s practically gone now, so it shouldn’t take you long to get your food. Assuming you want that fish.” He licked his muzzle. “Which, trust me. You do. Otherwise there’s plenty of other stuff to try.” He pointed to a few locations around them, each with a blue sign. “And all those places will take your ale ticket, and give you free beer. After that, you gotta pay for it.”

“Well, then.” Airn pushed herself up to her feet, heaving a dramatic sigh. “It seems our long ordeal is not quite over just yet, Deg.”

“Once more onto the chaos,” Deg said, standing up. “I’m gonna get a beer first, and then I can drink it while I’m in line for fish. Wanna get a spot for us, and I’ll bring you a drink, too?”

“Oh, yes please.” Airn retrieved her free ale ticket, and passed it to her brother. “Here, so you can get yourself another one later. See if you find me any of that silver water, will you?”

“Sure thing, Sis.” Deg tucked the spare ticket away. “Meet you at the fish vendor.”

Airn made her way around the urd’thin table, slightly dismayed to see how many of her people were busy studying and discussing the flyers the guards handed out. A quick glance around told her the guards patrolling the market were all carrying the same flyers. Any urd’thin not openly carrying one was soon offered a replacement. The guards all seemed friendly, and not overly pushy in their attempts, but neither were they attempting to hide would Airn could plainly see were recruitment efforts. No wonder they made such a big deal about inviting the urd’thin, she thought. She sighed, and reminded herself not to fixate on such things right now. After all, she was here for a good time, not to find even more problems for their people to deal with.

The infamous fish vendor occupied one of the more decrepit looking stalls in the entire district. Its aging wooden counter sagged in the middle. Its scant few seats wobbled and creaked. The roof looked ready to collapse at any moment, save for the newly installed support beams. Even the carved wooden fish that served as its sign was about to break free and clatter to the ground. If anything, the cook behind the counter looked even older and more weathered than her stall did. Despite that, she’d built a reputation for incredible food matched only by her personal kindness, and a depth of knowledge about everything and everyone in the district. She’d also become well-known amongst the urd’thin by being one of the first vendors to openly serve them in years long past. Through her food, many of Airn’s people had developed a taste for spicier cuisine, the sort of fiery heat that waged war against the tongue. Such food was a rarity to many of them, and yet it proved addicting.

As promised, while there was still a line for her stall, it was a terribly long one. All four seats were taken by urd’thin eating their meals atop her counter. Meanwhile, those in line were placing orders to carry them to seating elsewhere. Airn bided her time, moving up two spaces by the time Deg returned to hand her a large wooden mug.

“Sorry about the wait,” he said as he passed it to her. “Everywhere else has a big line, too. But if you buy your own mug, you can get your beer faster. So I bought two, and got water in yours.”

“Sounds like a clever ploy to earn more coin,” Airn said as she took the wooden vessel in both hands. For an urd’thin, it was an especially large mug, cut to look like an open barrel. The handle resembled a deer antler. Airn took the wooden vessel in both hands. Strange, silvery water filled it. Airn grasped, her eyes widening. “You found some!” She brought it to her muzzle, enjoying the sweet, honeyed scent. Airn took a drink, relishing the melon-like sweetness. “Oh, and it’s just as good as I remembered.”

“Good!” Deg took a drink of his ale, then wiped foam from his muzzle with the back of his hand. “They got a few different wagons selling it. Hell, they even got a couple people roaming around with kegs of it strapped to their bellies, pouring water.”

“Excellent.” Airn took another drink, sighing happily. “What’d you get?”

“Strongest beer they had.” Deg laughed to himself. “And before you say anything, I only picked it because I liked it the best. Vendor let me sample all three he had on offer. Called ‘em a double, a triple, and a quadruple. This one’s the quadruple.”

Airn eyed her brother warily. “Please tell me that doesn’t mean its as strong as four beers. I don’t want to have to drag you home.”

Deg just laughed, playfully clinking his mug against hers. “Then have I got good news for you!” He pointed to the table where all the urd’thin were. “I can sleep under there tonight.”

Airn scowled, glancing at Deg’s mug. If it was that strong, then that single mug suddenly seemed like an awful lot of ale. “Suppose you’d best take you time with it, then.”

“Nah, I’m just yankin’ your tail.” Deg grinned. “It’s maybe twice as strong as the usual stuff. Your kinda stuff, though. You wanna taste it? A sip won’t hurt, right?”

Airn shrugged. “I don’t know, Deg. This is my first pup. But I should think a small sip is fine. Trade you?”

Deg nodded, and they swapped mugs. Deg’s beer was fairly dark, laced with creamy foam. A rich, bittersweet aroma exuded from it. Airn took a tiny sip, and found the flavor sweeter than the aroma. It was full of candied raisins and boozy sweetness, balanced by hints of slightly bitter spices. She licked her muzzle. “Ooh, this is good. I’m definitely going to have to come find this when I can drink again.”

“Yeah, I like it a lot.” Deg took a drink of Airn’s water, then let out a happy sigh before trading drinking vessels with her again. “Oh, yeah. That’s nothing like the water in the warrens. How do they turn it silver, like that?”

“They don’t.” Airn giggled a little, her tail twitching. “That’s just how it falls from the sky, in Aran’alia. They have to import it, here.” She gazed around at the sizable crowd of revelers, ebbing and flowing like a living thing. “They must have stockpiled an awful lot for something like this. Or possess a greater ability to smuggle in a lot of inventory even faster than I’d guessed.”

Deg took another drink as they moved up in line. “They ever have you smuggle any of that stuff for them?”

Airn gave her brother a sharp look, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Let’s not talk about that here.”

Deg scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, all these urd’thin used to stealing for a living really care that we’ve done smuggling work.”

“That’s not the point.” Airn quickly surveyed their surroundings. If anyone was actually paying attention to her conversation, they were doing a fine job hiding it. “But no. It’s too heavy. Difficult for urd’thin to manage. Most of that kind of work you already know about, anyway. Now. Change the subject.”

“How about beer, then?” Deg swigged his ale, licking his nose. “I wish we could get it like this in the warrens.”

“Me too,” Airn said. “I suppose mushrooms don’t ferment quite the same way as grains do.”

Deg lifted his ears. “Oh, there’s an idea. That’s what we oughta spend some of our extra coin on. Grains and stuff for making beer like this.”

“Not a terrible idea.” Airn idly rolled her mug between her hands. “Although I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

As Deg prattled on about grains, Airn gazed around the festival grounds. Once more she was struck by just how many urd’thin were here, as well as how happily they mingled with the rest of the celebratory crowd. Airn had certainly never seen so many of her people mixed in with so many humans, before. Even in this district, where they were generally welcomed, they were usually dispersed throughout the area. Some urd’thin even worked here as vendors and merchants. But today, there had to be hundreds of urd’thin happily partaking in the same celebrations as all the humans. While still greatly outnumbered by the humans, it was a joyful sight to see urd’thin eating and drinking, browsing and shopping, chatting and laughing right alongside their taller neighbors.

Several of them had joined roaming musicians with their own instruments. An urd’thin with a drum accompanied a lutist, while a trio of her people played their own stringed instruments in a playful duel with a group of pipers. More urd’thin danced around the various musicians. Another group entirely had laid claim to a large, wooden platform serving as temporary stage. The painted backdrop of arched stone columns indicated that was there actors troupe had put on their play about the dragon’s escape. Airn was sorry she’d missed that. Now, four urd’thin were playing large drums strapped around their bodies, while two humans played curled brass horns alongside them. A small crowd of both peoples clapped and danced before the stage.

Deg gently nudged her, smiling. “You’d never see that with the Illandrans.”

“No,” Airn said, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t.”

Airn found herself wondering where they were all from. She was certain a good number of them came from her Warren, but many more likely came from the other hidden cities below Illandra. Others surely lived above ground, on the streets and in the alleys, in decrepit buildings and anywhere else they could make their homes. Given the fine clothes a scattered few wore, for all Airn knew they might well have owned their own homes here in the Aran’alian district. Then again, given how relatively well dressed she and her friends were, some of them probably thought the same of her. Wherever they were, she hoped they’d return home and spread word of the friendly reception they found here, among the Aran’alians. Then more of their people could venture here, and find themselves welcomed as equals, as well.

The thought left Airn smiling. Her smile soon faded, she realized that was probably exactly what Death in the Night wanted, too. One of their guards ambled through the crowd around the stage, passing out more of their fliers. Unlike the earlier ones she’d seen, this recruiter had a separate set of flyers he was passing out to humans, as well. Not only that, but he was following a path cut by a woman in a bright blue and silver dress, with a small barrel strapped around her. From the looks of it, she was giving anyone with an empty cup a taste of the increasingly famous silver water sometimes sold in the district. While they sampled it, the man behind her offered his flyers.

“First the carrot,” Airn said, sipping her ale. “Then the stick.”

Deg grunted, shaking his head. “Nah. Stick would imply punishment. That’s more like, carrot and a job offer.”

Airn chuckled under her breath. “I’m not sure joining a rebellion counts as a job.”

Deg only shrugged. “It’s a kind of job.”

“I suspect not the one they think they’re signing up for, though.” Airn grimaced, her ears flat. “I hope they don’t snare too many from our warren in whatever web they’re weaving.” Airn watched the water dispenser offer up the last of her stock. She returned her ladle to a hook on the barrel, and made her way out of the crowd. She soon vanished beyond the stage’s painted backdrop. Airn wished she was tall enough to see where she went next. “Speaking of webs, I don’t suppose you saw the Queen Water Spider’s wagon around, did you?”

Deg blinked, his ears half raised. “Queen Water Spider? Is that a person, or are you just mixin’ up your metaphors?”

Airn tucked her mug under an arm to rub her muzzle. “Both, I suppose. I’m talking about…” She trailed off, waving a free hand. “The water vendor. The woman who sells the silver water. Or at least, the woman we had it from first.”

“Oh, are you talking about Cas-”

“Yes.” Airn put a few fingers to Deg’s muzzle to shush him. “I am.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “She doesn’t like her name being used in public. Or, at least the name she’s given us. I just thought Queen Water Spider would get the message across. Given the web talk, and all.”

Deg tilted his head, curling his lip. “I dunno. The web thing was mostly just you. And it’s not really gonna make sense anytime you don’t use that metaphor.”

Airn rubbed her forehead, just between her horns. “Did you see her, or not?”

“I think so.” Deg pointed across the grounds. “There’s a bunch of covered wagons over there selling more food and drink. I think hers is there, but it looks a little different now.”

“Perhaps she’s more than one.” Airn moved her mug back to both hands, and took a drink. She licked froth from her nose. “Different, how?”

“More storm clouds, I guess? I didn’t get a real good luck at it. Besides, you’d know better than me. You’ve been there more times.” Deg pointed past her. “Anyway, it’s our turn, finally.”

Airn hurried to the stall. She was pleased to find a step stool set up to help the urd’thin customers see over the counter while they placed their orders. She quickly clambered up it, where the elderly human woman serving fish greeted her with a cheerful smile.

“Hello, my lovelies.” The woman wiped off the counter with a damp cloth, then leaned forward. “What can I do for you this wonderful day?”

“Hello!” Airn returned her smile. “That depends on what you’ve got left.”

“Oh, don’t worry your little heart.” The woman glanced over her shoulder with a laugh. “We’ve still got everything. At least for now.” She turned the rest of the way around, appraising her stocks. Live fish swam in agitated circles within several tubs filled with silvery water. Airn wondered if that was half the woman’s secret. Did keeping fish in the silver rain water for a time improve their flavor? The cook peered into one of the basins, scowling. “Though I am going to have to send my assistant back to the fish monger soon. We’ve only a few silverside darters left. Which…” She spun on her heel, laughing. “Not coincidentally seems to be the favorite among urd’thin.”

“Oh, perfect.” Airn clapped her hands in delight. “We’ll take two of those, then.” She glanced along the countertop at the meals the seated urd’thin were enjoying. The fish was grilled, and served atop savory flatbread with a host of chopped herbs and chopped hot peppers. “The same way everyone else is having them, I suppose.” She turned towards her brother. “I’m ordering for you, if that’s alright.”

Deg nodded. “Easier that way, yeah.”

“Very well, my lovelies. That’ll be just a tick.”

In a whirl of motion, the woman set to work. First, she scraped her cooking surfaces clean, and wiped down her cutting board. She snatched up a net in one hand, and a mallet in the other. The cook swiftly netted a long silvery fish from a tub of water, dispatched it with a solid thump to the skull, and then laid it out upon a cutting board. Just as quickly, she’d done the same to a second fish. She swapped her net and mallet for a knife from a nearby rack, scaling the fish in a scant few motions. Then she dusted them with salt, and dried spices from several containers. The fish were laid out on flat stones around smoldering coals, sizzling and popping. The wonderful aroma left Airn’s mouth watering so intensely she half-feared she’d embarrass herself and start drooling in front of the human.

While the fish cooked, the cook poured batter for the flatbread onto another set of stones. As that cooked, she melted butter in a little pan, then added minced garlic, and fresh lemon. Once the butter melted into a sauce, she used it to baste both the flatbread, and the fish. The cook flipped the fish, and squeezed more fresh lemon juice across the other side. Soon enough, everything was nearly ready. The flatbread was placed atop a wooden platter and basted a final time. Then the fish was laid atop it, and sprinkled anew with salt.

“Do you want everything on both of them, dearie?” The cook set the plate near an assortment of baked-clay pots and jars, each with its own little spoon. “I’d warn you the chopped chilies are quite hot, but I suspect you remember.”

“That I do,” Airn said, laughing. “And yes, please. We can handle it.”

“I’ve no doubt that you can.” The cook spooned ample measures of fresh chopped herbs and peppers, seasoning spices, and several different sauces all across the fish. Then she passed the platter to Airn. “There’s the first one. Let me fetch the second.”

Airn took the fish and offered it to her brother. “Here. You better go grab our seats again before someone else does.”

Deg carefully tucked his mug under an arm, freeing up both hands to hold the platter. “Got it.” He’d only taken a few steps before Nark intercepted him, offering to help carry things. Deg handed him the plate of food, and then took Airn’s mug of water for her. “I’ll get that. We’ll keep a spot open for you at the table.”

“Did you know, dearie,” the cook said as she plated the second fish. “I once served this very dish, to the Dragon’s Warden herself.” She set the plate down near the condiments, and quickly adorned the food with a little bit of everything. “The one who set him free, I mean.”

Airn blinked a few times, her ears up. “Did you really?”

“So goes the rumor, anyway.” The cook laughed. “That she’s the one who set him free, I mean. Not that I knew who she was, at the time.” She scrunched her face. “And I’ve no idea how she’d have brought that wall down. But I also don’t know who else could have done it. It’s funny, you know.” She finished topping the fish, and carried the plate back to Airn. “The Illandrans are angrily blaming the fact she was Aran’alian! And here we are, saying, damn right she was, and aren’t we ever so proud of her for it!” She set the plate down in front of Airn, laughing. “I should get a sign made, I think.” The cook swept her hand as if illustrating a grand placard. “The Dragon Warden’s favorite fish.”

Airn laughed with her. “Oh, I like that idea.” She dug out enough coins to pay for the meal, and also include a hefty tip. “Here. Keep the change, please.”

“Well thank you, my lovely!” The old woman swept the coins up, tucked them away, and offered Airn a stiff bow. “I do hope you enjoy it. Before you go, might I beg the smallest of favors?”

“Certainly,” Airn said. “What can I do for?”

“After you’ve eaten, would you be so kind as to gather up a few of those empty plates from the table?” She leaned forward across the counter, pointing to where all the urd’thin were eating. “I’m about to run out of clean plates, and I can’t wash the old ones until I get them back.”

Airn smiled and nodded. “That won’t be a problem. I’ll send my friends back with theirs, in the meantime.”

“Thank you so much!” The woman gave her a friendly wave, and then turned to take the orders of the next urd’thin in line.

Airn carried her fish back to the table. Some of the other urd’thin who’d been eating there earlier had already left, and been replaced by more of her kin. Deg, Livi, Nark, and Ven all remained where she’d left them, along with all their empty plates. Airn set her food down, and then squeezed into her seat alongside Livi, and another female she didn’t know. Old traditions once dictated that males sat at one side of a table and females at the other, unless they were a mated pair. Though such institutions were rarely followed too closely by modern urd’thin, those from the warrens sometimes fell back on them without really considering it.

“Hello!” Airn offered the unknown female a smile as she settled in.

“Hi there.” The female, with beige fur, returned her greeting with a friendly nod. Her eyes flicked to Airn’s fish. “Oh, I had that too. I had to skip some of the peppers, though. They’re so spicy.”

“I know,” Airn said, laughing. “And yet I can’t get enough of them.”

At her other side, Livi gave a happy with, and a delighted moan around another mouthful of fish. “Neither can I. I think the heat is making my mouth go numb, but I can’t stop.”

Airn glanced at Livi’s plate. Her second fish was mostly gone, and Livi was determinedly digging into what remained. “So I see. If you finish that, you’re probably going to explode.”

Livi took another bite, grinning. “A risk I’m willing to take.”

“Well, just be sure you get a safe distance away from me, first.” Airn plucked fish from the bone with the provided utensil, making sure to get some of everything in her first bite. “I don’t want your guts to stain my favorite dress.”

Livi patted her belly. “I’ll waddle as far away from you as I can, first. Though it might be tough… I already feel fatter than you’re getting.”

“Hey!” Airn dropped her food back down to glare at her friend. “You watch your muzzle! I’m not even showing yet.” Then she glanced down at herself. “Am I?”

Livi only giggled, eating another bite of fish. “I can’t tell.”

Deg cleared his throat with a playful growl. “Someone’s looking to get her ears bitten off.”

Airn chuckled, picking up her utensil again. “Not all the way off.” She popped the food into her muzzle, and almost immediately groaned, as if in ecstasy. “Oh, gods.”

Despite the quick and casual nature with which it was prepared, the fish was cooked perfectly. The well-scaled skin was seared slightly crispy, and the flesh beneath perfectly flaky. Its rich flavors were well accented by the array of spices, along with the citrus garlic butter sauce. And the diced peppers and herbs added a sharp pop of heat and savory flavors that melded perfectly with everything else. She swallowed it and quickly took another bite, even as the heat was already growing upon her tongue.

“See?” Livi nudged her with an elbow. “Told you!”

“Yes, yes.” Airn took another bite, savoring every flavor. “This is so good I forgive you for calling me fat.” Since Livi and her brother were still eating, she turned her attention to Nark, and Ven. “Could you two take some of these empty plates back? The woman running the stall asked if we could return them. She’s almost out.”

“Sure thing.” Nark gathered up a few plates, then handed them to Ven. “Here ya go, buddy.”

Ven glowered at him. “Why do I gotta take ‘em back by myself?”

Nark shrugged. “Because…” He stared at Ven, and took a slow drink of his beer. After a moment, he wiped his muzzle. “I had to go find Princess Plod-Along here.” He waved his mug at Airn.

Airn mostly ignored them at. Her meal was far too satisfying to let them distract her from it. She worked her way through it at a leisurely pace, both to savor it, and to keep the heat from melting her muzzle right off her face. Perhaps, she thought, a few less peppers next time. Or conversely, a few more to help build up her tolerance. By the time she was finished, the heat was not so intense as to leave her pads clammy or tears streaming down her face, but it did leave her panting. A quick glance at Deg revealed her brother was in the same boat.

“Good thing they give us one of these,” Deg said, holding up the fork. “If I had to eat this stuff with my hands, I just know I’d end up blinding myself five minutes later when I rubbed my eyes.”

“No kidding.” Airn pushed her plate away, now topped only with the skeleton remains of a fish, a few smears of sauce, and a couple crumbs of flatbread. “I’m stuffed. I dunno how the hell Livi and Ven ate two of those things.”

“Easily,” Livi said. “A complete and total disregard for my future comfort.” She shifted on the bench, wincing, her ears shifting to odd angles. “Which, in hindsight, may have been a mistake. I think I’m going to be rooted to this bench for a while.”

Airn drained the last of her silver water. It helped to quench the burn, if only for a moment. “Just don’t expect the rest of us to roll you home.”

Livi glanced at her, white-tipped ears perked. “Perhaps you could purchase a wheelbarrow, and take me home in that.” She giggled to herself. “Or better yet, hire me a carriage with all that extra money you’ve made lately.”

Airn chuckled, poking her shoulder. “Oh no. If you want to splurge on that kind of extravagance, you can use your own damn money. I didn’t cut you all in on those jobs just so I could spend my money, on you. Besides, the extra is supposed to go to the Warren, remember?”

Livi just smiled at her, her tail twitching. “How could we forget, when you’re always reminding us?”

Ven leaned across the table, lowering his voice to a playful whisper. “We all know Airn spent all her money on fancy blankets for her sleeping berth, anyway.”

Deg swatted Ven’s shoulder. “She did not!” Then he smirked at his sister. “She also spent it on pretty tapestries.”

Airn giggled with her companions. “And on nice clothes.” She stood up, hefting her mug to punctuate her words. “And doors! Don’t forget doors.” She glanced down at Livi. “Besides, a wheelbarrow would never make it through a warrens entrance, let alone a carriage.”

“Oh, very well.” Livi pressed the back a hand to her head, just below her horns. “Then I shall just have to curl up under the table, and die here.”

“That’s basically what I said.” Deg picked up a couple other empty plates left nearby, then stacked them together. “Other than the dying part.” He offered the plates to his sister. “You want help carrying these back?”

Airn shook her head, adding her own plate atop the stack. “I think I can manage, but thank you.”

She carried the plates back up to the aging fish stall. By now, the line was even shorter, with only a few urd’thin still waiting for food, and a few more in the counter seats. A second, younger woman now occupied the stall alongside the elder cook. Airn assumed it to be the assistant she’d mentioned earlier. Working together probably allowed them to get orders out twice as fast, and cut down on waiting times. W

When the cook saw Airn coming, she leaned over the counter with her usual smile. “Oh, thank you so much, my little lovely. Would you be so kind as to bring those around the back, for me? I’ll come and get them.”

Airn agreed, and made her way around the back of the stall. The cook had a sizable garden and storage area there, ringed by a battered wooden fence at least as old as the shop itself. The gate hung open on rusted hinges. Lichen and moss crept across the fence’s crumbling wooden boards. A well-worn trail ran from the little shop’s back door, and into the garden, branching off in either direction.

On one side of the garden, pots and pans rested in disorderly rows and piles beneath faded a faded blue rain tarp, while a stacked cord of firewood sat beneath another. Locked storage bins bookended the two tarp-covered spaces. Several old stone benches with legs like scalloped wings occupied an area beneath the leafy, overhanging canopy of one of the market’s monolith oaks. A hand operated water pump sat near the corner of the fence, with a green-tinted basin beneath it.

Planters of every shape and size occupied at least half the garden. Some were made of baked clay with stylized dragons sculpted across them. They held an immense variety of herbs, vegetables, and more. Airn smelled sage and basil, rosemary, coriander, thyme, and many more she could not easily identify. A great, leafy pepper plant towered over Airn, its leafy boughs weighed down by a bevvy of pointed, bright red fruit. A much larger lemon tree grew from a wooden, barrel-shaped planter buckling beneath the strain of ancient roots ever seeking escape. Countless bright yellow lemons dangled from its branches, with plenty more of them still green and growing. Airn smiled to herself, turning in place as she took it all in. Despite the rambunctious festival crowd, it was quite peaceful there. The encircling fence, and the rustling oak leaves above her helped to cut a fraction of the noise. With the barrier’s help, Airn could almost imagine she was in the garden of some country tavern, far from Illandra. She wondered if the old cook ever simply sat upon her benches, and listened to the breeze whisper.

The backdoor opened, and the elderly woman emerged. She wiped her hands off on her apron, heedless of the small splatters of grease and batter, and the dusting of flour and spices. Despite her age, she still moved with grace, and a sense of self-assurance that spoke of life perhaps once more interesting, and dangerous, then a fish cook. She strode up to Airn, a smile on her face, as always.

The cook took the plates from Airn, carrying them towards the water pump. “Thank you again. We’ve had quite the rush today! We’re completely out of darter now. And until you and your friend brought back some of our plates, we only had three or four of those, left.”

“I’m not surprised, given the crowd. You’ve been working your ass off, in there.” Airn chuckled to herself.

The older woman glanced at herself over her shoulder. “Not quite. It’s still there.” She laughed to herself, scrapping the plates off into a refuse bin. Given the general lack of odor, Airn assumed it must only be the day’s remains. “And if I might be so bold, we’ve also turned quite the tidy profit, today. Might not make the aches and pains seem worth it tomorrow, but it certainly helps.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Airn glanced at her hands, scowling. Bits of food and smears of sauce now clung to her fur. “I hate to impose, but would it be alright if I used your water pump to wash my hands before I go?”

“Of course, my dear.” The cook fetched a clean basin, and stuck it under the pump. She worked the handle a few times, grunting in effort. After a few attempts, water soon gushed out, quickly filling her basin. She dropped the plates in, and then swept it aside. “Give me a moment, and I’ll work it for you.” The cook worked some soap into the water, and then returned to the pump. “Ready when you are.”

Airn followed her to the water pump. She held her hands out beneath the spigot, and soon water rushed across them. It was surprisingly cold. She worked her hands together in the flow, rinsing them. By the time they were clean, her fingers ached from the chill.

She stepped back, shaking them off. “Thank you! That’s ever so cold.”

“That it is,” the cook said, chuckling. “Must be something about the wells around here. No idea where it comes from. Was there when I moved in. Your hands adjust to it, though.” She smirked at the urd’thin as she returned to her washing. “After a few decades or so, anyway.”

“I’m sure.” Airn made sure her hands were clean, then wiped them off on her dress, trying to dry them. “Thank you again. I should let you get back to work.” She turned away, only for the older woman to speak up again.

“Airn, was it?” She paused in the middle of scrubbing a plate, watching the urd’thin closely.

Airn froze. She hadn’t ever given the old lady her name, had she? Slowly, she turned back around. “I’m sorry, have I-”

“I hear it, you know. In their whispers.” The older woman finished washing the plate, and set it aside in a second basin. “Your name, I mean.”

Airn flattened her ears. A shiver racked her, her tail bristling up. “Whose whispers?”

“Oh, I think you’re quite aware.” With a wet, soapy finger, she traced a raindrop with a sharp, angular edge on the side of her basin.

Airn’s eyes flicked to the image. “I see. They’ve been whispering my name to you?”

“To me?” The old woman laughed, a hearty but half-cackled sound. “No, dear. But my ears and eyes are always open. You’d be surprised the things you overhear when people don’t properly respect you.”

Somewhere deep inside Airn’s heart, her soul smiled. “No, ma’am. I wouldn’t.”

A crooked grin overtook the woman’s face. “I suppose not.” She put another clean plate away. “It’s funny, you know. For all their secrecy, all their codes and bluster and all their networks of spies and eavesdroppers…” She clucked her tongue, shaking her head. “They still act as if they think they’re the only eyes watching from the darkness, the only ears sifting through the noise, and the silence.”

Something unpleasant scraped against Airn’s mind, like the bristles of a brush dragged across her brain. Who the hell was this woman, and what was she hinting at? She stepped closer, gritting her teeth. “You’ve been ever so sweet to me, and my friends, and I thank you for that. Genuinely.” Airn pinned her ears. “But if you’ve asked me back here to play games with me, and dance around secrets and drag me into some ill-fated attempt to force me to choose sides, then-”

“No, dear.” The woman scowled, setting aside her washing. She settled onto one of her benches. All at once, her shoulders slumped. She hunched forward with a long sigh, looking as if every single year of her long life had suddenly piled its weight upon her shoulders, all at once. “Nothing like that, at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.” She took a slow, shuddering breath. “It’s been one of the great joys of the later years of my life to extend a hand of friendship to the urd’thin. You know, years ago…” She trailed off, staring at her own shaking hands. “Actually, my lovely. Your friends are probably wondering where you are. You should return to them. Forgive the ramblings of an old woman, tired of watching her world turn back towards the darkness she thought she’d left behind.” She rubbed her face, sighing into her hand.

Airn stared at the woman in silence, a whirl of confused emotions roiling her heart. Her sudden suspicion was quickly draining away, replaced by a nagging sense of pity she doubted the old woman would appreciate. Though Airn still didn’t know what the woman wanted, she believed her to deserve better than to be left alone, in her moment of doubt. She fetched herself a large, empty planter, and then carried it over to the woman. Airn turned it upside down, and sat upon it.

“My friends can wait.” Airn reached up, and gently squeezed the older woman’s hand, smiling at her. “What’s your name?”

The cook slowly lifted her head, until her eyes met Airn’s. Something strange and lost turned inside them, like a forgotten memory she’d only just rediscovered, and now found confusing. “My name?” Her eyes narrowed, but the corners of her mouth twitched into an odd smile. “Do you really want to know?”

Airn nodded. “Certainly. You know my name, after all, so it only seems fitting.”

“Amira, dear.” The old woman lightly patted Airn’s smaller hand. “You can call me Amira.”

Airn’s smile faltered. It couldn’t be. Surely, she thought, there had to be more than one Amira throughout the city. For all Airn knew, it might well be a common Aran’alian name. “You’re not…” She licked her muzzle, then swallowed. “You’re not the Amira, are you? The author?”

The old woman went still.

Airn’s breath caught. “You…” Airn’s grip tightened around her hand. “You are, aren’t you?”

The woman glanced away, then closed her eyes. A near-silent sigh escaped her.

Airn leaned forward. “Amira Brightcloud?”

Her eyes shot open, fixed on Airn in an instant. “Amira Brightcloud is a dragon.”

Airn met her gaze with defiance, and fire. “Kylaryn is a dragon. Amira Brightcloud wrote a book, called-”

“The Uncaring Sky.” The woman tilted her head back, staring up at oak leaves, rustling far above them. “I know, my lovely. I know.”

Airn’s smile returned, her ears lifted. “You are her, aren’t you!”

“I was.” The old woman’s hands trembled. “Once.”

Gentle as could be, Airn grasped her other hand, too, steadying them. “You’d never have given me your name if you knew I’d recognize it, would you.”

“No, my lovely,” Amira said, chuckling softly. “I would not have. But…” She sighed again, this time sounding almost relieved. “It’s good to feel that name upon my tongue, again.”

Airn furrowed her brows, her ears splayed. “You don’t normally call yourself that?”

Bitterness drifted across Amira’s eyes. “Not for a long time. That life has been all but erased.”

“What do you mean?” Airn tilted her head.

“I mean, dear…” She lowered her voice, as if afraid that even now, they were being eavesdropped upon. “That according to Death in the Night, there is no Amira Brightcloud.”

Airn flattened her ears. “I see.” She scrunched her muzzle. “You needn’t worry, though. I certainly won’t tell them who you are. I promise, your secret is safe with me.”

“I appreciate that,” Amira said, straightening up. “But it’s not necessarily. I assure you, they know exactly who I am.” Her composure darkened. Dark clouds drifted behind her eyes. “After all, who do you think it was, that erased me?”