*****

Chapter Forty Seven

*****

Asterbury stood in the morning sunlight, shaping talismans. He wore only buckskin breeches, wanting to feel the wind ruffling his fur and the sun warming his back while he worked. He hummed as he twisted a piece of silver into a coiled loop, then ran his fingers around the circlet. The silver rippled, and braided itself together. He held it up to the sun, then tapped it in a few places. Tiny sigils appeared across it. He put it around his wrist.

The urd'thin bobbed his head in time to music only he could hear. No musicians to play today, no va'chaak to sing. He'd wanted solitude, and cleared the whole courtyard. He selected a silver necklace from the collection of trinkets and items lazily circling in the air around him. As his humming increased, the ground of the courtyard rose and fell, waves swelling in time with the music. With a twist of his fingers, the necklace unwound into long, thin strands of silver, and with another twist, they curled around one another to form a second braided circlet. He added the sigils, and put it around his other wrist.

He was the chief now.

A turquoise stone floated past, and Asterbury plucked it from the air. He flattened it out between his hands like soft clay, rolled it into a pale blue tube, and then deftly wove it into an intricate knot. He pressed it to his fur.  As it knit into place, he snatched another gem when it drifted by.

While he shaped the new rune, the music grew louder. Soon it wasn't just the ground dancing, but everything around him. The logs of the palisade wall around the courtyard rippled, an instrument's keys being pressed. The fortress he'd claimed as his own bounced and swayed back and forth like a children's drawing brought to joyful life. Somehow the strain of such motion did not damage it. Forms rose from the mud all around him, forming an earthen tribe dancing to his tune. Something click-clack-clattered behind him in perfect time to the song in his head.

Without looking up, Asterbury reached out and took another object out of the air. It was black and ridged, pointed at one end, sharp and broken at the other. Revaramek's lost horn. He trailed a finger over the ridges, smiling. Perfect. He sliced the horn into sections with his finger, parting it as a knife through soft flesh. Each piece of horn floated in front of him, waiting its turn to be shaped into something new.

The first two chunks of horn became identical historian's emblems that he worked into the gray fur of his neck. He twisted the third and fourth pieces of dragon horn into another set of bands to put around his wrists. The runes of the tribe's prime shaper. The final, and largest piece of Revaramek's horn he molded into something larger, a sigil of coiled shapes and loops akin to a tangled serpent. When it was done, he pressed it to the base of his throat, wove it into his fur. It symbolized something very important to his people. It made him their Teller of Tales.

He was the storyteller now.

A shadow swept over him, accompanied by wing beats that were irritatingly out of time to his song. Aylaryl really had to work on her timing, he thought. He ignored her as she thumped to the ground somewhere behind him, focusing instead on his music, and on the remaining items still lazily circling in the air around him. There was still something missing. The music grew agitated in his irritation. Things danced faster. Something behind him click-clack-clattered louder still.

“Asterbury…"

“I'm busy, Aylaryl." Asterbury waved her off.

“Why is there a dancing, headless skeleton behind you?"

Asterbury stopped. Something shifted in his head, shrinking away, and the music died. All the urd'thin made of dirt melted back into the ground. The wall stopped waving, the fortress stopped bobbing, and the skeleton behind him stopped dancing. A smile spread across his muzzle, and he spun around, waving at the blackened bones frozen in mid jig.

“Councilman Dead Asshole, take a bow!"

The charred skeleton bent forward, bones creaking. The skull sat on the ground, watching.

Aylaryl cringed, her frills all hanging limp. She turned her head away, covering it with a purple and black wing. “That's bad, Asterbury. Even for you. I think I might be sick if you don't put that thing back in the ground."

“Oh, don't so melodramatic. There's hardly even any flesh left on those bones! Besides…" He cackled, pirouetting on his bare gray-furred toes. “You're the one who charred it, remember?"

Aylaryl shifted her wing, still hiding her head. “I didn't expect you to bring it back later."

“Oh, it's not like I haven't stripped away all the rotting flesh." Asterbury just grunted, his tail tip twitching. “Well, most of it. But I needed bone. Speaking of which…Councilman Marl, won't you give me a hand?"

The skeleton's right hand tore free from its moorings, and floated towards the Urd'thin. He reached out, grasped the skeletal hand, and then shook it. “Nice to meet you! Quite the grip you've got. But…no, finger bones are better suited for a neck charm. I need something…bigger." He tossed the hand aside, the bones scattered across the dirt. “Let me try this again. Councilman Marl, won't you give me a skull?" The urd'thin scrunched his muzzle. “No, that's terrible." He turned away, tapping a finger against his muzzle. “I've got something for this, what was it…?"

Aylaryl folded her wing back, walking around the urd'thin. “At least you're in better spirits. Though I'm starting to worry you might unraveling."

“You say that like I was ever raveled in the first place." Asterbury's dark, inky eyes widened and he perked his ears. “I've got it!" He spun back towards the skeleton, holding his hand again. “Councilman Marl! You're so successful, surely you can help me get…" He paused, beaming at Aylaryl. “Ahead?"

The skull floated up from the ground, and drifted towards Asterbury. The rest of the skeleton crumpled.

Aylaryl flattened her ears back, hissing. She lashed her tail, her fangs on grimacing display. “That one just hurts."

“Oh don't worry, Aylaryl." Asterbury caught the skull, and waved it at Aylaryl. “Marl didn't feel a thing."

The dragon settled on her haunches, her head cocked. “What are you doing, anyway?"

“Taking my rightful place." He let the skull go. It floated before him while he showed off his new adornments to the dragon. “These are my shaper's runes."

“Like the ones from your old tribe?"

“Exactly." He tapped a few of them in order. “These mark me as chief, these as prime shaper, these call me out historian, and this one?" His ears splayed, a smile parted his muzzle. “This one says I'm the storyteller. I like that one the best, now." He took the skull again, flattening it out between his hands as though it were nothing but soft dough. “I'm the only one left. Only seems fitting that I take up my peoples' emblems for what's about to come." He twisted and re-shaped the skull, working the bone into something resembled curled talons clutching one another. When it was finished, it placed it over his heart. “There. I think that's the last of them."

“So what's that one? Is that one he used to wear, too?"

Asterbury ran a finger across the rune above his heart. “No. No, he never wore this one. This one means death."

“A little dark, isn't it? Not sure that's the memory they'd want you to carry on."

“They're dead, Aylaryl." Asterbury turned away from her. He waved his hand, and all the remaining trinkets flew off towards the vault, in the far corner. A wall of stone built itself up behind them, closing off the black cube. “It doesn't matter what they'd want. Death is all Jekk's people ever gave us. It only seems fitting I give it back."

Aylaryl grunted, kneading at the earth with her claws. “Perhaps so. You're not going to kill Revaramek, are you?"

“Rather do it yourself?" Asterbury gestured at the fortress. His gold-hemmed purple cloak drifted from a window, followed by his tunic, and his boots.  

“No." Aylaryl shifted her weight back and forth. “I don't…really want him to…"

“I know, I know." Asterbury rubbed a few of his new shaper's runes. “You want him to live. I'm not sure he accepted your offer for a place at our table, though. He does keep trying to kill me."

“Is that something I should be worried about?"

“I'm not sure." Asterbury spun back towards her, smiling. “I'm starting to wonder if I can die. If anyone can do it, it seems to be him. But who knows…maybe if he slays me I'll just…" His smile faded, ears splayed. “Wake up anew, in some other life…a newborn pup, in the desert…" He scratched at the base of one of his horns. “Till they come back, and ruin it all over again…"

“Are you sure you're not unraveling?" Aylaryl lowered her head, nudging his cheek. “Maybe you need more rest. We can wait till tomorrow." 

Her concern warmed him. Asterbury turned his head to give her nose a lick, then hugged the end of her muzzle. “Thank you dear, but I'm as right as poisoned rain." He patted her snout, then eased back to snatch his shirt out of the air. He pulled it on, ran his hands down it, altering it from a tunic into a vest to make sure all his adornments were on full display. Then he muted the golden color. “Too showy, today. I'm feeling…less a noble, more a war chief." He pulled his cloak out of the air next, tying it around his neck. “But the cloak stays." He stroked the golden edges of it, giving Aylaryl a grin. “I just can't part with this thing."

The dragon bowed her head in agreement. “It's just part of who you are, at this point."

“So it is." He flicked his fingers, and his boots dropped to the ground. He stepped into them, and they tied themselves.

“So about Revaramek…"

Asterbury glanced up at her again, reaching out to cup her scaled chin. “I promise not to kill him unless he makes me. He'd make a fine bodyguard for Enora in her new marsh empire. Besides, I sort of like him. He makes a fine nemesis, and he seems to truly understand. But if tries to kill me again…well, I'm going to hit him a whole lot harder."

Aylaryl nuzzled at his hand, then pulled her head back, neck curling. “You know he will. He's always been a stubborn ass." She canted her head, his purple frills rising. “Besides, you still need him, right?"

The urd'thin folded his arms over the death rune. “I do. Now that I know where he's from, I think I know how he got here, but I think I'm going to need him to keep breathing." He flicked an ear back, then snapped his finger in the air. Mirelle Two flew into his hand. “So as long as he doesn't push me too far, your boyfriend lives. Happy?"

“I was, until you called him my boyfriend." Aylaryl snorted, pawing at the earth.

“Not still carrying a flame for him? Well, that's a weight lifted from my soul." He put a hand over his chest. “Now that I know you've only got eyes for me, I can offer you my heart at last."

“That offer might be a lot more appealing, if you hadn't just covered your heart with a symbol that means death." Aylaryl twisted her head around, gazing at the crumbled skeleton. “Or…dug up a corpse to make it dance."

“I didn't dig up the corpse!" Asterbury gave a mock gasp, his ears back. “The skeleton dug itself up! And it decided to dance all on its own."

“That's not sweetening the pot."

“Then I am rejected!" Asterbury pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, just under the base of his horns. “Forever alone!"

“I wouldn't go that far."

 “Scorned, by my one true love!" The urd'thin wobbled around, feigning a near swoon. “Forced to alleviate my pain with mournful organ music, murderous rampages, soliloquies about the futility of existence, and other villainous tropes!"

“Where do you learn these things?"

He glanced up at her under his hand. “From all the books the storytellers had. Thousands of them, stories from world after world…you learn an awful lot about tropes and archetypes that way…oh anyway, woe is me! I shall now drink poison, and then you shall drink poison, and-"

“I'm not drinking any poison." Aylaryl glared at him, her tail twitching.

“It's from a classic story!" Asterbury straightened up, slapping the back of one hand against his palm. “The dragon and the urd'thin!"

“Is that a real story?"

He shrugged his furry shoulders. “It could be…"

“I think Mirelle Two would be jealous."

Asterbury examined the knife, then shoved it into his belt. “Mirelle Two and I are on break. She's giving me the silent treatment." He clapped his hands twice. “Enough games. Rally the troops! It's time to get them back their home."

The dragon nodded, and leapt towards the sky. She beat her wings, ascending in a tight spiral. Then she roared, a brassy call to arms that echoed across the village and the marshlands beyond. A signal for all the va'chaak warriors he had gathered to prepare themselves to attack.

While Aylaryl circled, Asterbury bent the world, and propelled himself into the air. He hurtled upwards, arching through the air. The urd'thin alighted upon the fortress's highest point, standing at the very tip of its roof, jutting above the riverside village. From there, he could a few hundred va'chaak warriors, two once-warring tribes now united in common cause, under his common banner.  Now, together, they were ready to take back their sacred hill.

To reclaim what the storytellers stole.

If only he had a home left to reclaim.

Asterbury bared his fangs in a silent snarl, flattening his ears. If he couldn't make it back to set his story right, he'd just have to keep freeing others from their chains. If he could use Revaramek to access the gates, then could follow the men in robes to every world, every story, every existence they had slipped into. And like rats, he would exterminate them. Asterbury threw his hands to the sky. Clouds erupted across its brilliant blue expanse.

“For every agony, I will cut you down!"

The clouds darkened, flashing with angry blue light.

“For every torment, I will ruin you!"

The storm birthed above him roiled as it grew, the colors changing.

“For every lost future…"

Hints of red and gold swirled through the growing tempest, overtaking it.

“I will rain calamity upon you."

He spread his hands, and clouds stretched across the sky, tendrils of ruination twisting above the marsh. The gold color spread through the clouds, churning sands spreading through his maelstrom of desolation.

“And for every stolen story, I shall erase you." 

Thunder rumbled, low and echoing, a howling moan of an anguished storm. Bolts of blue-white streaked across the sky, following in Aylaryl's wake as she cut through the red-gold clouds. Asterbury tracked her a moment, then sprang from his elevated position, crossing an impossible distance in an instant. He landed on her back, stood between her wings as she circled beneath his storm. Asterbury swept his hand across the horizon.

“Onward!" His voice was a drumbeat, rolling across the marshland. “To the storytellers' lair! To your sacred hill! Tear the men in robes from their rat holes, drag them out of hiding, and show them cost of their crimes! I promised you your homelands back, and if they will not offer it to you, then you will take it!"

Asterbury smiled as his army roared and hammered fists and weapons against bone-hewn armor. Groups of va'chaak broke into a run, charging down the roads beyond the village. Others marched in orderly processions, while more trotted alone between groups.

“They're going to wear themselves out, you know." Aylaryl glanced back at him, her silver-white eyes picking up the red-gold of the swirling clouds.

“Doesn't matter." Asterbury spread his hands, standing on her back. Lightning crackled between his fingers. “They couldn't march there in a day anyway, without my help. I'll bring them all up to speed soon enough. Heh, get it? Let them burn off a little energy, first, so they don't just charge headlong into Revaramek and whatever defenses he's assembled."

“Are you really planning to let them ransack the village?"

“Well that's up to them. And it may depend on how well the village behaves." Asterbury folded his arms as Aylaryl flew, pacing ahead of the charging lizards below.

“Enora won't like it if you let them-"

“And she won't like that I let you burn down their guard houses and their council, either. She'll get over it once she's in charge of everything." He snarled, then softened his tone. “She'll reconcile with the va'chaak after they've had their fun. I know Rekrek and Gavak will listen to her after we're gone, anyway."  

Aylaryl stared up at the furious sky, silent for a little while. When she finally glanced back at him, concern flickered in her eyes. “Are you alright?"

“Never better."

“That storm you made is different."

“I'm fine." He waved his hand at the clouds of red and gold and black that followed them, growing across the sky. “This is a little present for old Jekky. A little reminder of all our good, funny times together." He snorted, rubbing fingers against the emblem made from the councilman's skull. “It's time he understands exactly what he's made of me."

“So you're still planning to go, even though…"

When Aylaryl trailed off, Asterbury picked up for her. “Jekk may have made me ruin my home, but I still have Revaramek. You said yourself I needed him alive, and if he can come here, it means there's a way out. I just need him to open it for me. Because in this world, this nexus…there ought to be a way to get…anywhere. Every version, every story…I'm going to go to all of them, and I'm going to erase every version of the storytellers that ever existed. I'm going to ruin everything they've ever made. And then I'm going to rebuild my desert on their graves."

*****

Mirelle clung to Kurekka's neck as the village came into view. Even from a distance, it looked different, scarred somehow. Though she'd only glimpsed it from the air once before, it looked foreign now. It took her a moment to realize what was missing. The glorious silhouette of the Council's Hall of Law that once capped the hill was gone. Nothing lingered but a charred husk of the beautiful building she'd been so proud to be admitted to.  Her heart sank, and she buried her face in Kurekkea's feathers.

She didn't even want to look at it. How long had it been since she'd last set foot in that hall, arguing in defense of her decision to recruit Revaramek? And before that, nary a week had passed since she'd been officially welcomed as the newest council member. Now the robe of office they'd given her was all she had left of the place. She hadn't even worn it in an official capacity, just tried it on in front of her looking glass for her own satisfaction. It still hung in her closet.

The gryphon banked, and Mirelle lifted her face to gaze down at her village. She wiped a few tears from her eyes, forced herself to choke back a sob. She'd have plenty of time to mourn what they'd lost later. Or gods forbid, who they'd lost. She took a deep shuddering breath, watching the city spin beneath them as the gryphon circled. At least several long, rectangular guard barracks were burned down as well. The southern entry gate on the main road was also ruined, but already there were guards and workers trying to re-fortify the opening.

Near the burnt wreckage of the council's hall, there were new gaps in the inner palisade encircling its grounds. Some of the poles were inverted, stuck in the ground in a rough circle. A few of them looked to have been pushed over. And an immense hole in the earth sat open in the midst of the ruined hall, looking as though a giant had stuck a shovel in the ground right down to the bedrock. What the hell had Asterbury done here?

“Where are we landing?" Kurekka called back to her, his red crown feathers half raised, fluttering in the wind.

“Look for Revaramek, first!" Mirelle needed to be with her town, but she also knew there wasn't much she could do in the here and now. Her friend however, might need her help immediately. “If he isn't here, we'll ask if he's been here. Fly over to my tavern!" Mirelle pointed towards the far eastern edge of town. “It's over…oh, gods, what's happened?"

Mirelle squeezed the gryphon's feathers so hard he squawked and shot her a glare. She relaxed her grip, but one of the sobs she'd so recently swallowed forced its way back up her throat. Her beautiful tavern was in ruins. The bell tower she so loved was shorn off completely, with only a gaping hole in its wake. All the stained glass she'd paid so dearly for was shattered. At first, she wondered if Revaramek had gotten into a fight with Aylaryl again.

Then she saw the sand.

A whole golden ocean of it occupied what was once her private garden. She gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth. Oh, gods, what had Asterbury done? The last time she saw that happen, he'd put a knife to Revaramek's eye. It had taken everyone to pull him back, and now, if he'd lost it again, there was no one here to stop him from hurting Rev. Or worse. And what of Beka and Tavaat? What if they tried to stop Asterbury, not knowing who he was, what he was?

“Land!" Mirelle jabbed a finger at the ground behind her tavern. Her breath came in terrified pants. “My friends were there! Land! Land, land, land!"

“Saying it again doesn't speed me up!" The gryphon tucked his wings, hurtling over rooftops and trees towards her tavern.

“Just land!"

“If I go any faster than this, I won't be landing anymore, I'll be crashing!" Kurekka shot over the damaged roof of the Cathedral. “Hold on tight!"

Mirelle wrapped both arms around his neck, pressing herself to the gryphon. The feathered creature flared and dipped a wing, swooping back around just before the wall of pines and its unfamiliar gap. The force of his turn tugged and pulled at her, left her stomach doing loops even as he dropped down onto his hind paws. The landing jostled her against his back, yet even as he trotted to a stop, she was frantically undoing her safety rope.

“Revaramek!" Mirelle worked herself free and leapt off the gryphon's back, snatching her maul out from under the rope. She left her pack and the book behind. “Beka! Tavaat!" Clutching her maul in both hands, she ran towards the back of the Cathedral. Everything looked broken. The fence, her trellis, her patio furniture, the windows, all of it. Fear squeezed her heart so tightly it threatened to shatter like her stained glass. “Revarameeeek! Bekaaaaa! Tavaaaaaat!"

The back doors flew open, and a familiar, scaly, green lump emerged through them. “Cease your bellowing, you kick-happy harpy, it wasn't me this time!" An immense smile blossomed across the dragon's muzzle, his bronze eyes shining.

“You scaly son of a bitch!" Mirelle tossed her maul down to throw her arms around the dragon's neck, hugging him as tight as she could. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you? What happened? Where are-ACK!"

“Mirelle, you're back!" Revaramek snatched her up in both his forelegs, dropping onto his haunches to hug her. She gasped as he squeezed her against his chest plates, her boots hoisted off the ground and tapping against his belly scales. “Oh, Mirelle, I missed you! I was terrified, I could see other worlds through that lightning, and then I tried to kill him again and he punched me in the head and we all almost got sucked through a portal but we're all alright and I made you head councilwoman!"

“Can't!" Mirelle wheezed and wriggled, her ribs aching. “Breathe!"

“Oh, right." Revaramek sat her back down onto her feet, still beaming. “Sorry! I was just so happy to see you!"

Mirelle rubbed her side. A smile soon overcame her grimace. “I'm happy to see you too, Rev." She hugged him again, this time wrapping her arms as far around his scaled body as she could reach. “You sure you're alright? Where are Beka and Tavaat?"

“Inside. They can't wait to see you too, but they wanted to give us a moment, first." He glanced back at the doors, flaring his spines. “And I don't think I like what Beka was insinuating about that moment. All I did was tell her we slept together!"

“Didn't miss that, though." Mirelle patted his scales, shaking her head.

“Oh!" Revaramek's gold-edged frills shot out to full, spiny display. “You'll never guess what else I discovered!"

“What is it?" Mirelle eased back from him, adjusting her clothes. “Is it about Asterbury? Because I-"

“The Tea Kettle has a mustache!" Revaramek clapped his forepaws.

Mirelle blinked, half-way bent over to pick her maul. “What?"

“It's huuuuuuuge!"

Mirelle shook her head, laughing as she retrieved her weapon. “That's hardly important news, Rev. What have you learned about Asterbury?"

“How does he keep that thing in there?" He stared off into the distance, grinning like a drunken va'chaak.

“Okay, Rev, that's wonderful, but-"

“It's magnificent! Oh, and he's got enormous mutton chops!" He put his forepaws at the sides of his head, waggling his fingers. “It's as though he's invited an entire nest of humungous red wooly caterpillars to live on his face for the summer!"

Though she tried to fight it, Mirelle found herself giggling. “That…actually does sound worth seeing. But what have you learned-"

“It looks like he's chopped off a red urd'thin's bushy tail and affixed it to his lip!" The dragon tilted his head, ears perked as he grinned down at her. “You could put him on display in your tavern and charge admission!"

“You're just doing this to irritate me, aren't you."

“Yes!" Revaramek clapped his paws again, cackling like a mad lizard. “I am!"

Mirelle sighed, and when she was sure no one was looking, she leaned her forehead against the dragon's scales. She stroked his chest plates with her free hand. “I missed you too, ya big scaly ass." Then she glanced up at him, glowering. “Tell no one I said that."

“Mirelle has a boyfriend!" Kurekka warbled laughter from somewhere behind her.

Mirelle shot him a rude gesture over her shoulder. “Shut it, bird!"

Revaramek rubbed Mirelle's back with a paw, but something in his voice hardened as he gazed over her towards his friend. “Kurekka! I need a word with you."

“Can it wait?" The gryphon settled himself, preening a wing. “Slow-wings and Enora should be here shortly."

“Oh, I've got some words for them too, but I'd rather start with you."

Mirelle pulled away from the dragon, glancing up at his face. A strange sort of anger burned in his bronze eyes. The way his spines all stood on end suddenly seemed less like excitement and more like threat display. She'd seen that look before, but never given to one of the gryphons. She glanced back and forth between them a few times, and when Kurekka's posture changed to something more defensive, she spun round to stand alongside the dragon, her maul in her grasp.

“Revaramek, what is it?"

“Probably nothing." The dragon snorted, pushing himself to all four paws. His voice said otherwise. So did the fact he'd unsheathed his claws. “Maybe an imminent ass-kicking."

“What are you talking about, Rev?" Kurekka cocked his head, his hazel eyes flicking to the dragon's claws.

“Asterbury said Enora's coming for a coup." Revaramek growled, his webbed tail thrashing the air.

“What?" Mirelle's belly tightened. Her sore arms ached from swinging the maul around the day before, but she was more than ready to swing it again. “Is that what all that blackmail was about?"

“No!" Kurekka squawked in disdain, his scarlet crown feathers flared out around his out.

“You blackmailed her?" Revaramek glanced down at Mirelle, arching his neck.

She nodded, inclining her head towards the gryphons. “They threatened to leave me behind and just take Enora if I didn't offer them an official truce with the city!"

“It wasn't blackmail-"

“Sounds more like extortion to me." Revaramek's growl rose, and he took a single, threatening step towards the gryphon. Kurekka matched it with two backwards steps of his own. “I get kidnapped for one minute, and you're already extorting her?"

“It wasn't like that!" Kurekka flared his wings out.

“It was exactly like that!" Mirelle followed along at the dragon's side. “What if I'd said no, were you really going to leave me there?"

“Just because you two are my friends doesn't mean you get a free pass to stab my other friends in the back!" Revaramek took another step towards the gryphon, and Mirelle matched it. “I've been through an awful lot lately, and I've discovered that what few friends I have, have been hiding an awful lot from me for a very long time!" He waved his paw at Mirelle, hissing. “She might be a harpy sometimes, but at least she's been honest with me!"

“Yeah, I…wait, what?" Mirelle grit her teeth, pushing her thought about the harpy comment aside. She twisted her anger back towards the gryphon. “What are you and Enora planning? What if I hadn't come with you, were you going to help Asterbury attack this town?"

“No!" Kurekka gave another squawk of protest, glancing at the sky.

“Don't you even think about taking off!" Revaramek snapped his jaws. “I love you like a brother, Kurekka, but if you're part of Asterbury's plan, I will yank you out of the sky and beat you with your own beak!"

“We're not part of any plan!"

“Then why the hell were you blackmailing me?" Mirelle stepped closer the gryphon, making sure not to impede Revaramek's path, just in case.

“Because forcing someone's hand seems to be the only thing your council understands!" Kurekka waved his paw at her, half-unsheathed claws whistling in the air. “Our parents' only choices were to leave, or die! They forced Rev to sign a truce at sword point! They banished Enora on penalty of death!" He snapped his beak. “Death! They told her if she set foot in this town again without express permission, they'd hang her. Does that sound like the sort of council who I should expect to listen to reasonable arguments? I had an in, and I took it!" He shook himself, snarling. “So yes, I blackmailed her into offering a truce, with pending citizenship! So that Chir'raal and I-"

“Oh, mount your damn citizenship!" Revaramek stormed past her and snatched the gryphon by the beak. Kurekka's eyes widened and he pried at Revaramek's paw, but the dragon's grip was an iron prison, inescapable. “Maybe you haven't got it through your thick gryphon skull, but the person wo healed your damn wing isn't there anymore. Whoever Asterbury was to you is gone. Little Vakaal is gone! Whatever you knew him as has been swallowed by the cackling monster who tried to take my eye out!"

Mirelle followed Revaramek's lead, and grabbed the gryphon's ear. “Even Enora knows it's true! She might want to run this village for her own reasons, but she's as much as admitted to me that the friend you all had in him has been devoured by the monster who nearly killed Rev! She thinks Aylaryl's been pulling on that strand for years without ever knowing what she's unraveling. Whatever he saw in that book probably washed away any lingering traces of goodness still there."

“His home, Mirelle." Revaramek spoke without releasing the gryphon's beak, his eyes boring into Kurekka's. “He saw his home, his desert, washed away by a tide of grief. Of poison rain wrought from sorrow. He made my swamp, and he never even knew…"

“What?" Mirelle's grip on the gryphon's ears wavered. A fluttering coldness filled her belly, raising goosebumps all across her. “He…made…"

“Jekk told me the truth last night." Revaramek lowered his head, speaking to both yet keeping his glare leveled with Kurekka. “Asterbury…Vakaal…his people were given the powers of a god to rebuild their world. And Jekk's forebearers caught them, tortured them, and drove them mad. The four stories, Mirelle, they all end in Asterbury, and he's…filled with the pain they've all felt."

Mirelle's grip slackened on both the gryphon's ear and her maul. “Oh…Oh, no…Enora called his power…miracles…"

“There's no miracles left in him." Revaramek released the gryphon's beak, and circled his arm around Mirelle instead, hugging her against him. “Only calamities."

Mirelle pressed herself against the dragon's warmth. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against him. Terrible ideas swirled in her mind, fear and confusion whirling into one horrible whole. “How…how is that…Why doesn't he just…"

“Right now, it doesn't matter." The dragon tightened his grip around her, and she wrapped her arms around his foreleg, hugging it. “I'll explain what I know when I can. But first…"

Mirelle twisted around in the dragon's grip, pushing her fear aside. It wouldn't do her any good right now. “Are you with us or not, Kurekka?"

Now that Kurekka's head was free, he seemed unable to meet their gazes. He stared at his tan-furred forepaws, shifting them against the grass. “I didn't come here for a coup. I came here to make sure Rev was safe, and to protect Enora."

“Why does Enora need protecting?" Mirelle leaned across the dragon's foreleg, snatching up a handful of gryphon feathers.

He squawked and pulled away, then turned his head to gaze at the miniature desert marking Mirelle's yard. “Because Asterbury wants to make her Head Councilwoman, and put the town in her hands."

“How is that not a coup?" Mirelle snatched another handful of feathers, and this time yanked them free.

“Ow!" Kurekka hissed, rubbing his neck. “Stop that!"

“You're lucky Revaramek is holding me back or I'd grab something far more tender and start yanking on that!"

Revaramek eased his foreleg enough to let her go free. “Oops, paw slipped. Better talk, bird."

Kurekka clacked his beak, his ears splayed. “She never agreed to it! He's talked about things like that before but never actually…I mean, up until yesterday we had no idea he was going through with any of it! I was afraid for you, Rev, and for Enora. I knew she'd follow you, and I wanted to make sure she's safe. I didn't know what would happen if Asterbury went to cast out the council and they thought she was with him!"

Mirelle snatched both the gryphon's ears, one in each hand. She twisted till he yowled. “So he's staging a coup in her name, whether she likes it or not?"

“If the council's dead, she can't exactly refuse the position!" He pulled his head back from her. “But we have a truce, don't we?"

“A truce dependent on you helping us save this town!"

Kurekka rubbed his ears, grimacing, the mobile half of his beak twisting up. He glanced at the dragon, and set his paws down. His crown feathers slicked back against his neck, and his ears sagged. “Look, Revaramek. I apologize if you feel mislead."

“Feel mislead?" Mirelle stomped on the grass, resisting the urge to slam her boot into something Kurekka would really feel. “That seems like all you three have done to him since we first came to you for help!"

“Which you didn't even tell us about until-"

“That's different!" She thrust her finger at the dragon, anger scorching her blood. “You owe him a far bigger apology than that if you expect him to accept it!"

“I'll decide when an apology is good enough for me, Mirelle." Revaramek snaked his foreleg around her middle. She took it as suggestion to withdrawn, and eased back against his body, exhaling a sigh. He stretched his neck, glaring at the gryphon. “Which it was not. But given the chance that we're all about to die, I shall accept it and forgive you nonetheless." A hint of smugness crept into his voice. “Because that's what a hero does. Forgives his friends no matter how they may have wronged him. Which you did."

Kurekka stared at his paws again, sweeping the grass with his feathered tail. “We never meant to-"

“It doesn't matter, Kurekka. All that matters is-"

“Are you going to help us save this town or not?" Mirelle snatched for his feathers again.

Revaramek grunted, arching his neck to peer down at her. “You're stepping on my moment, Mirelle. But yes. What Mirelle said."

The gryphon gave a long sigh. “Yes. Yes, I'll help protect your town, if it means-"

“No!" Mirelle ducked out from under the dragon's grasp. She put her face right up against Kurekka's beak, her furious glare burning into his eyes. She thumped a finger against his furred chest. “No! Did you not hear a word Rev just said? I'm not playing this game with you. You either help us protect this town against Asterbury and whatever army he's bringing, or you can get the hell out of my village right now!"

Revaramek arched his neck. He patted her back with a paw. “Well said, Mirelle. Though, about the coup bit. Funny you should say your village, but I think you missed it before when I said-"

“Not now, Rev." Mirelle waved him off.

“But this is pertinent to-"

“I'm conducting negotiations!"

The dragon shifted behind her, his wing rustling. “More than you realize."

Mirelle finally spun around again, waving her arms. “What is it, Rev?"

“I've made you Head Councilwoman. So, your negotiations with him are official."

Mirelle rolled her eyes and turned back to the gryphon, waving off the dragon. “Now you listen here, Bird, I'm Head Councilwoman, and-" When she realized what they'd both just said, she spun right back around. “You did what?!"

Revaramek flattened back his ears and spines even as his smile grew so wide it threatened to split his head in half. He looked like he couldn't decide between being delighted with himself and fearing for his most tender parts. “I've relieved Jekk and everyone else of command. I put myself in charge last night, but that was only until you returned. Technically…" He flicked his tail towards his feet. “You were Head Councilwoman as soon as you stepped off Kurekka."

“You…did…what?" Mirelle worked her jaw, unable to comprehend it at first.

“That's the hardest part for you to grasp?" Revaramek curled his neck, spines wavering around his head. “I just told you Asterbury's some kind of god, and it's your promotion that baffles you?"

Mirelle ground her palms into her eyes. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hug him, or kick him. Or both. “How can you even…there's no way anyone…they'd have to vote and…"

“It's all done. Asterbury said Enora was coming to throw a coup, and I decided to cut her off at the pass." The dragon reached out and set his paw on her shoulder and upper arm with as much gentleness as she'd ever known from him. “You're the best person for the job, Mirelle. You're the only one who came to me." His voice softened, little more than a whisper. “The only one who ever asked me to be a hero. It's your city now. Even the Tea Kettle agrees. It's already official. You can assemble your own council. You can have Jekk there, or not. You can invite Enora to join you or…" His voice tightened. “Even tell her to get the hell out. They're your decisions to make. And I'll back them for as long as I can."

Mirelle buried her face in her hands for a moment. It was so overwhelming, it almost was harder to believe than she heard about Asterbury. At least with the urd'thin, she'd seen his powers first hand. But this was so out of the blue, so seemingly unbelievable that she almost missed the last thing Revaramek said.

She lifted her face again, her eyes widening. “What did you say?"

“I said I'll back you-"

“What do you mean as long as you can?"

Revaramek glanced away, his ears drooping.

“What...what are you…"

The growing sound of feathered wing beats resounded out over the village. The dragon glanced up, the sudden cheerfulness in his voice was too syrupy. It rang hollow, even for him. “And there's my other friends at last! Kurekka, I'm going to go take Mirelle in to Beka and Tavaat! Do tell Chir'raal and Enora how you're all sworn to protect the town now, won't you?"

Mirelle spun back around to hoist up her maul. She prodded Kurekka's chest with the handle of it. “You want your people and ours to get along? So do I. You want gryphons, dragons, va'chaak, urd'thin and everyone else to coexist in this village? To live in peace with us? Me too." She thumped the head of her maul against the ground. “I'll tell you the same thing I'm going to tell everyone else. This is where it starts! Right here, right now, with us. With you and your mate helping my people survive whatever comes next! You two have grievances with us and our council, I know that. But it runs both ways! I'm sorry about what happened to you, Kurekka, but it didn't happen by accident. You were raiding them. But that's over."

She glanced up at the sky where Chi'raal was circling with Enora, descending in a slow spiral. “Here, and now, I'm offering…no, I'm giving you a chance to put that behind you. A clean slate, for all of us. I made a truce with you, however forced." She hefted her maul again, waving it at the dragon. “And apparently I'm in charge now, which means by the terms of that truce I can give you orders. So I hereby order you to fulfill your end of our bargain, and help protect my city. Help me start something beautiful. Or leave now, and never come back." She tossed the maul over her shoulder, then turned to follow Revaramek. “Choice is yours. Talk it over with your mate, and make your decision."

Mirelle hurried after the dragon. She ran in front of him just before he reached the back doors, barring his way. Inside the tavern, she glimpsed Beka and Tavaat. They both waved and smiled at her. Beka bounced on the balls of her feet. The sight warmed Mirelle's soul, and left her longing to go embrace her friends. But she knew they'd be patient, and she had something else to ask Revaramek first.

“Don't you want to go see your friends, Mirelle?" The dragon lowered his head, nudging her with his muzzle towards the entryway. “They've been so worried about you!"

“And they know I'm safe." Mirelle reached cupped the dragon's pebbly, green scaled chin. “Now it's you I'm worried about. Why did you say that a minute ago? For as long as you can? I mean…you…you're going to live longer than me, Rev." She gave a nervous laugh, staring into the dragon's bronze eyes. They shone and glimmered, wet and scared. “I mean…aren't you?"

The dragon blinked, and a single tear rolled down his muzzle.

“Rev…" Mirelle's voice shook. She swallowed against the sudden, hot tightening of her throat. Oh, gods, what was he planning? “What…what is it? What's wrong?"

Revaramek sucked in a half-choked breath. “I can't beat him, Mirelle." He looked away, sniffing, blinking away more tears. “I've tried, and I…I can't. But I have a plan. I'm…I'm going to be a hero…"

Oh. Oh, god. No.

The dragon's voice broke. “You're going to be so mad at me." A wrenching noise came from him, a laugh and a sob twisted into one pained sound.

“No, Rev!" Mirelle grabbed his head, hugging it tightly. She pressed her face to his scales, sniffing. “We'll think of something! You don't-"

“I have thought of something." The dragon put a paw on her back, stroking her as he broke down, crying into her clothes. “Thank you…thank you for being my friend, Mirelle."

“No! Rev…" She fought for words, only to lose them to a choking sob of her own.

“You…you never knew…how long I waited to be a hero. To be your hero." The dragon's whole body shook, his tears soaked through her blouse. “You pulled me, from an ocean of loneliness…"

“Stop!" Mirelle squeezed his head tighter, unable to prevent her own tears now.

“I thought you hated me, and…still, I was…so excited to be…helping you! To be wanted, to be needed! And now…now I get to be a hero, at last! And I got to call you friend, and…" He gestured with his wing to Kurekka, staring from a distance. “And I got to see them one last time, and…thank you, Mirelle, for asking me to be your hero."

“Rev, please…"

 “My mother would be so proud of me now."

Mirelle lost it. Sobs wracked her, and for long moments she just sobbed against the dragon's scales. She rubbed his jaw, stroked his neck. He cried against her, even as she leaned into him, her knees wobbling. His paw brushed her back, gentle, tender. She finally forced herself to lift her face from him.

“I don't…you haven't…" A nervous laugh escaped her, bookended by sniffles and sobs. “You…stupid dragon. We're crying, and you haven't even told me your plan…"

Revaramek gave a pained laugh of his own, easing his head back. “I can't. If you know, then he might know. I talked to Jekk, he thinks it-"

“You told Jekk, but you won't tell me?" Mirelle wiped her eyes, gave the dragon the closet thing she could to a smile, and brushed a fat tear from his pebbly scales.

“Jekk's not from this story." The dragon sniffed, and then swallowed hard. “Asterbury can't…read him any easier than he can read me. Which means…for all his power, he doesn't know. But neither can you."

“But…I don't understand. What good is sacrificing yourself going to do? I mean, is that even what you're talking about?"

“I-" Revaramek opened and closed his jaw a few times, bronze ghosts shivering behind his eyes. “You just…please, Mirelle. Trust me. I think I know how I hurt him those other times, but…I don't think it'll ever be enough. Maybe one day I could kill him but…your village is out of time. I have a plan, though…the only way I can think to stop him."

“Rev…whatever you're planning, there has to be another way…"

“Maybe." The dragon sniffed again, then gave a shuddering sigh, laying his chin against her shoulder. “But we don't have time. I…I didn't…want to tell you this way, but…it slipped out. So…if you want my backing on your decisions…you'd better make them soon." The dragon's quaking laugh turned into a whimper. “I'm…I'm scared, Mirelle."

Just when Mirelle thought her heart couldn't possible break any further. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. Gods, what was he planning? “There's…still time…We'll…we'll think of something, you and I."

“Promise me something?"

“Of course! Of course, anything!"

Revaramek pulled back from her. He held out his paw, and Mirelle took it between her hands, squeezed it. “Swear to me I won't be forgotten. My mother brought me here for this, I know it now. To be your hero. Promise me you'll tell my story."

“I promise, Rev." With nothing left to say, Mirelle lifted his forepaw, and gave it a gentle kiss. She tried to offer him a comforting smile, but another sob stole it from her. “I promise you, everyone will know who the hero was."