Now that they’d acquired the blessings from a dragon. It only seemed fair to try to discuss in depth everything they could do riding a dragon.

  Kriti suggested. “We could use it to remove an entire kingdom at will.”

  Laural snickered. Who would want to kill thousands of people? None of them took the cooks suggestion seriously. “I think we should use it to travel over vast distances quickly.”

  “No, we could only send those two and what good would that do the rest of us?”

  “Hey?” Nettle muttered. He still looked shellshocked after the entire event. He’d return to his off gray color, but his usually flat colored eyes had a new spark in them. A dragon blooded elf, not from a slain dragon, again walked the earth. Other than his recovery none of them quite knew what it meant.

  “Lots of good. Send messages, get back home after we’re tired, find help, build a small but elite guard to overthrow the king?” Unlike Nettle, Bodi while still exhausted had begun to perk up with Day’s efforts. She really had worked more of a miracle than healing him. What exactly did she have in that caravan? Nobody had seen into the cart yet.

  “Seems a little much.” Spoon shrugged. “What’s the good of being a King?

  “The King isn’t so bad.” Kriti spoke up. “Unless you are talking about Pliny the Eldest? That one’s a real schlub. I think there’s a ton of other kingdoms out here, but like who cares?”

  Laural squinted thinking. “I thought he was the great bard?”

  “You all are imbeciles.” Kriti shook her head. She’d not quite gotten over seeing a dragon lifted by sheer stupidity in not one but two people that she had to spend a lot of time still living with. Then they’d been given benefits from it! Horrible. What kind of world rewards foolishness?

  “What about that The Highes King? He names himself The Highes on account of building the largest tower of that time? He sounds like a jerk,” suggested Day.

  “Didn’t the tower fall down like two years later?” Bodi asked.

  Nettle sounded like he reached down deep answers about this tidbit. “Not even two, it wasn’t designed for wind sheer. The first storm that came in took it down. Just like leaving a giant gaping hole for –“

  “Shut up, Nettle.” Spoon had unexpected heat, because how do you keep your unknown protection subject from lifting a damn dragon and almost killing himself? “You’re always talking about obscurely old stuff the rest of us never heard about.”

  “You’re right,” Nettle grunted to himself. “You should all be working on your education instead of talking about dragons. It’s past time we have a history lesson about our quest item.”

  Laural gave a long hummmmm noise then shook her head. “No info dumps please. Not today. Do you think we could do dragon jousting?”

  Everyone reevaluated Laural’s animal friendliness.

  “Don’t you think that could constitute or be considered as animal abuse?” Day’s eyes squinted.

  “Dragon are sentient and anyway the ethics of jousting are a little different since both horse and rider risk their lives.” Laural clarified her stance.

  “How does that make it better?” Spoon found most sports to not be his style.

  “It just does.” Laural shrugged.

  “Dragons with lances seem like a stretch.” Kriti secretly had kill a jouster in front of a crowd on her fun kill list. Not because she wanted an alibi, just for the spectacular fun in controlling the joust event. Too many day poisonings though, if you had her skill, you’d have the death be falling into the hooves from a crushing death. Not slow acting at all, just timed well.

  “I bet we could wreck a lot of naval ships.” Spoon scratched the side of his head. “His Majesty’s Navy style.”

  “Ew, saltwater and boats, and the fact that it would seem like a bore to destroy a whole fleet before it touched down,” Bodi said this calmly. “And consider the ethics of killing all those men who are following orders.”

  “Hey now, in this hypothetical version of the world,” Day clarified they’d entered thought exercise more than real usage. “Sometimes there are just bad people. Off-worlder style.”

  “Before we get lost on if killing guards is alright,” cut in Kriti, “let me remind you we could call the dragon to do something outrageous like drink gallons of tea or enslave other dragons. Anything their better suited than simply eliminating sentient beings.”

  “What if the dragon is used to kill zombies?”

  “Now, now, it’s so much easier to kill the necromancer in the first place.” Day said with authority. “Why waste the time? And, anyway, with dragon versus ships we might need to consider that the dragon could get tired. According to the rules, it’s just for as long as we carried him.”

  “What if we force him to take us to another dragon so we can steal his hoard of gold become rich?” Kriti asked.

  “I’m not stealing,” Nettle grunted.

  “Doesn’t sit right with me,” complained Laural. “I’m not hugely a fan of killing people over pure greed.”

  “Nope,” said Bodi.

  Spoon shrugged. “I also would prefer not to interact with the dead body of a dragon.”

  They all gave him a weird look.

  “You’re worried about the body?” Day couldn’t keep the derision out of her tone.

  He frowned uncomfortably. “Well yes, it’s all toxic fumes, and fire and such. Not my favorite thing to get blood all over, and we’d be wasting it to not gain all the scales and such with us. Butchery isn’t my forte.”

  “What is?” Laural asked. He shrugged so she continued without an answer. “Now here me out. Maybe we can bond with our dragon and then find other people who do too and then make like this huge school where we can all learn together?”

  “That sounds terrible.” Spoon moaned.

  “Who would want to do a thing like that?” Under his breath, Bodi muttered darkly, “Chosen ones?”

  “Ugg, no more school for me, thanks.” Day fired off.

  “Fae aren’t really into that type of formal group education, we’re more of self-paced learners, you know?”

  Laural gave a sigh. “It was just a thought you don’t all have to shut me down so hard.”

  “Why don’t we sleep on it?” offered Day sensibly. “I don’t think we have any idea what to do with the dragon’s so help so let’s table it for now.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Laural stomped off to complain about the group to the horses. Kriti went off to gather cow chips for a new fire. They bedded down out on the open but didn’t sleep well with the many flapping wing sounds of large cowboy dragons.

  Nettle had greater concerns than all the rest and resting though. Until now, he’d counted himself lucky to be in a party that knew relatively little about Fae. But now he needed advice. He’d not wanted Bodi, the only one he specifically chosen, to die out of sheer stupidity. It had been a mistake to use his powers outside the city. A more knowledgeable friend could have told him how bad it might get. None of the party could help with that though. Most of them had been so shocked or unaware they didn’t seem to know what he was now a dragon blooded Fae. The focus of what to do with the dragon call had been hard to converse in when he’d been confident in not mattering much to him. For now, his focus must be on using alternative spells only.

  He stared at his hands, wondering what magic he could do now. And just when he might tear the world apart. Would it be today? Tomorrow? His real skills, his actual ways, even Kriti had been locked in on Bodi’s feat of strength. Nobody had seen the shoemaker’s feet moving.

  #

  Out on the western planes, the influence of the off-worlder waned as the darkness covered the short grass. They prepared to rest hearing the Fire-Bran cattle lowing in the distance. Their first day without a horse dying and already a boon offered had been a nice bonus. Bodi and Nettle sat by the fire exhausted. Laural and Day bedded down the horses and set up the tents meaning she could finally be alone with the buckboard and various supplies. From the well, the others drew up buckets water to fill the canteens and supply the horses.

  As she hefted the bag of dried apples, she noticed the smell first. The supplies had been tampered with. Her decision to keep Spoon had been purely because she didn’t want to seem like she’d rejected a second guard for Nettle. If she could garner enough trust, it would make things much easier for her later. Now though, she considered could he be not an assassin, just a troublemaker. Intending to kill Nettle for no reason at all. She could tell the apples with a too sharp a smell were gone, but what else? She found clear injection marks in a few of the oil containers. Particular powder on some of the flours and a few weevils. This level of effort could only mean overkill.

  Taking her time, the experienced assassin went through the foodstuffs and everything else, removing any contamination before she finally settled on eating a few of the perishable rolls and other snacks with cheese wedges. It occurred to her she’d often have to repeat this process. While covered in a massive Western, you could virtually never poison anyone. Three day old deer, rotten fruit, things like that simply were swept away. Before that, she’d been in supplies not deep down. This had been intended to kill Nettle outside the city and away from the possibility of help in town. She knew he had a very high price on his head, but just how much competition did she have?

  With her new food pile, she put out the platter of the apples, cheeses, and the last of the rolls they had. With everything she had to throw out, they already needed more supplies. For now, she’d see what happened and how far they’d go.

  Everyone else had completed their tasks before her, so her late dinner was accepted with excitement. As they ate, Kriti decided to find out more about her companions if she could. Especially that Spoon. Was he part of the barriers for her Fae kill? With cow chips fuel, the fire did not burn as badly as the pine sap smoke, and they’d used their own empty supply bags, marked by the green Fetching Fae Feastieries logo, as picnic blankets to sit on.

  “Spoon, are you vampires undead?” Kriti asked, biting into her apple.

  “It’s a bit of a gray area. We don’t want to get associated with necromancy. Not all species can even become a vampire. Dragons for instance and orcs, something to do with underbites and overbites. The argument of if it’s a parasite, a disease, or separate species if very complex.”

  In between bite, Nettle said, “Were you bitten?”

  “I am a born vampire.”

  “Doesn’t that mean you have to be a species?” Laural glanced at Sleepnir. “Sleepy agrees with me.”

  “Not necessarily.” Day lifted up one finger like she might break into a lecture on the finer points of finger breaking. “This is a very complex topic. That does nothing about making us get to know him better. Spoon, tell us something we don’t know.”

  “I’m a pescatarian.”

  “I didn’t ask you about your religion.”

  He gave Day a flat look. “It means I don’t eat fish. Other meats are fine, but I just stick to that.”

  “And you’re presecretory because of why? Or a pre-secretary?” Bodi rubbed a hand over his bald head.

  “I’m allergic to fish,” he explained calmly. “Just doesn’t go well for me.”

  “Whoever heard of a normal person allergic to fish? Are you royal?” Kriti didn’t know how they expected her to make good meals with no fish, no meat, and inaccurate supplies bought by Nettle, a Fae shut-in. The poison she didn’t mind. That was easy to fix.

  Spoon choked on his soup. “Why does a fish allergy have to do with nobility?

  Day attempted to sooth both of them before it got out of hand. “I’ve only heard of royals having the fish allergies myself. I suppose it can happen to normal people.

  “As you can clearly see, a regular person with allergies. It’s probably because of my mixed heritage. You know that can have all sorts of weird effects on people. One of the many reasons people still argue interspecies shouldn’t mix.”

  “I would think” Nettle offered with his pointy face, “that should be an argument for it. New abilities, new world views.”

  Kriti turned a sharp gaze on him. “Not what you’d expect from a Fae. Don’t you guys have all sorts of weirdness about having kids? I assumed you were the pure bloodlines types? Clearly not with you?

  “Fae are prickly on this matter, but the truth is with our struggle to have kids it’s even less likely with other species. If there ever was situation where we thought we could have more children, we’d have already married in everyone we could find.” He paused scowling. “Suppose it’s possible someone might have already done so. Keeping such a resource to themselves would be a generational campaign to gain power. Just have more sons and daughters than average.” Nettle frowned to himself deep in thought. “No. By now that must be obvious, right?”

  “Not if it’s a relatively rare other species and the birthrate is only slightly better.”

  Nettle steepled his fingers. “There is always a Fae cabal or Fae conspiracy. It’s because Adville counts on the airship’s supplies. That’s all.”

  Day could probably tell he was done talking about this. “What about you, cart driver? Tell us about yourself.”

  Kriti relished an opportunity to get one problem out of her way. She showcased her headscarf carefully, making sure her hair wouldn’t move as she pointed it out.

  “I wear this because of my devotion to Stheno and Euryale. The gorgon sisters, forever seeking their youngest sister. If any person were to remove it, there is a dire consequence, but so too may you receive the consequence when you force a woman to wear a ceremonial garb like mine, if Stheno and Euryale take notice of the girl that is. The gorgon sister strike all, no matter you’re ignorance.

  They didn’t immediately try to change topic. Very annoying, usually her ultra-religious approach stopped all the questions. Better get more extreme and see if that worked.

  “My deity, my spiritual godhead, my ally my friend. Sometimes as a great figure over us, but never as two twin waterfalls, speaking in soft tones. They despite the greater gods and goddesses, who rally their stories and make lies for all to believe. The triplets do not act as other goddesses. currying favor and grandstanding, but they too would not to be of this place. The gorgon sisters are mine and I am there’s. It’s the call of my people.”

  Fear of religion had been useful to her on many occasions. Kriti practiced this speech in different levels of fervor on various audiences often. She wore her headscarf only because it was practical.

  “That’s cool for you.” Bodi stretched his shoulders. “Belief and faith are important.”

  Kriti didn’t like where this was heading. They were supposed to be afraid of the revival. People always stopped asking questions when you claimed to be devout.

  “I’m ultra devout. Practically a nun or acolyte. Eager to convert others.”

  Laural perked up. “Maybe that’s what I need. Religion. I’ve been trying really hard to be bad. To just hate people, but I think I might just naturally want to be good. Stealing didn’t work for me. And I feel really bad thinking about killing anyone or animals. I wanted to be more hardened, but I think I just can’t. Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” Bodi didn’t sound fine with it, “just so long as you don’t try pushing your beliefs on others or converting everyone to only your morally good stance. The rest of us have different opinions. You know how the history of orc’s is. Army, army. Lose war, lose war. Maybe a one-off good guy, but a lot of dying. I don’t want you think I’ll be able to uphold an elf’s standards of acceptable.”

  “Of course not. I have a debt to pay Nettle for taking the wrong path, and you can do what you want. It’s just time I stuck to my true ideals about the environment and animals and you know myself.”

  Kriti heard snoring and winced, but Nettle was curled up on a blanket looking pathetic. Day blinking far too often and her head lolled a few times. It’d been hard days of traveling.

  Bodi yawned and nodded. He spoke in a softer tone. “I understand. Being who you really want to be is important. But I don’t want to wake anyone else up talking.”

  Laural also pitched her voice quieter. “I just wanted to get that off my chest. Let’s get some sleep instead.”

  Kriti would have liked more information, but then she always did. While everyone else bedded down, she very carefully removed the supplies. Nobody gets to poison anybody except her. They’ll just have to find more food later.