The next week passed in something of a blur. Peril becoming-well, realizing she was-trans hadn't changed much of her life. The most she'd gotten were a few weird looks from Moon, but getting together with Clay definitely had changed things. Where before it seemed like they had to struggle to share any time at all, now chances just seemed to spring up constantly to run an errand together, or share a meal, or hide in a closet and rub noses. Admittedly, helping Clay grade his students' homework was difficult when she couldn't touch any of the assignments and knew just as little as any of them about herbology. Still, her input mostly made up for the time they wasted making doe-eyes at each other. Mostly
"What do you think, Peril? Can woad be used as a convenient stomachache cure when you're stuck out in the highlands?" Clay asked, dipping his claw in a bit of red ink and preparing to pass judgement on another student's essay.
Peril shrugged, laying back lazily against the cave wall and trying to catch a sunbeam coming in through the skylight. She managed to resist the urge to bat at the motes of dust floating through the air. "I don't even know what woad is."
There were a few drawings pinned to the wall of the herbology cave, along with a couple cases of pressed plants, and Clay pointed out a cluster of tiny yellow flowers with his dry claw. "That's woad. It is a good pain reducer, native to the highlands… and a good blue dye."
"How's that relevant?" she asked, craning her neck to see the drawing.
He grinned. "I hope anyone who takes Boto's advice doesn't have a hot date, because their smile will be extra colorful." Using his claw, he scratched out a few notes, advising Boto to think things through a little further, but complimenting his brevity. The paper went on the depressingly short stack in his inbox. Before he could take the next sheet, there was a knock at the door.
"I'll get it." Peril said, rolling over onto her belly and standing up. She plodded over to the door as Clay kept shuffling through the papers. Taking care to touch only the ceramic ring on the doorknob-installed after the third incident of melted fixtures in as many weeks-she gently opened the door. Just in time, she made sure to step back so whoever was on the other side wouldn't get too close.
"Mr. Clay-Oh! Peril!" yelped Boto, taking a step back. The ripple of green across his scales was unmistakable. "Y-you're actually the dragon I wanted to see." he stuttered, keeping a very safe distance from her.
"Well, you saw me. Did you want to say something too?" she asked, and Clay looked up from his desk for a moment.
"Y-yeah, there's a messenger from Queen Ruby out front, says they're looking for you."
Well, the hammer had to fall sometime. What would Ruby want with me now, though? She nodded. "Did they look like the 'you're under arrest' kind of messenger or the 'you're cordially invited' kind?" The answer didn't really matter to her; she'd killed plenty of the first sort of messenger for Scarlet, and the most annoying members of the second type. Clay and Ruby probably wouldn't like it if she did that, though.
"Uh… they weren't armed, if that's what you mean. At least, I think they weren't. Could be anything in that satchel." Boto replied, scratching his head.
She sighed in response, looking back to Clay. "I'll be just a minute. And, uh, you can go," she said, waving a claw at Boto. Before she could blink, he was gone.
"Okay, I'll be right here grading papers. Miss you already!" he joked, as she headed out into the hallway.
The messenger didn't appear to be here to haul her away. She'd never seen this SkyWing before, a skinny little slip of a drake with odd black marks on his toes and ankles, as if he'd been running in soot. There was indeed a satchel strapped over his shoulders, though, so he was definitely the messenger. From the satchel he pulled a little scroll, edged in gold, and made to hand it to her.
"That's probably not the best idea," she said, stepping back.
The messenger looked up and blinked. "Oh, yes… sorry, I'm wrecked. Been flying for eight hours all over the Sky Kingdom, you know how it is," he said, wobbling a little on his feet. His voice was significantly deeper than Peril had expected from such a fun-sized drake. "Anyway! I have here a message from Queen Ruby herself, addressed to Peril."
"That's me, yes."
"Okay, here's how it goes." He cleared his throat. "You are hereby invited to the second coronation of Queen Ruby, and the commemoration of the Sandwing War Memorial Garden. As an honored guest of the queen, rooms have already been set aside for you and a plus-one in the palace, and, as usual, the banquet halls will be open for all guests and well-wishers, along with any SkyWing who needs a warm meal."
"Of course," she said, though she could not remember Scarlet allowing anyone without at least half a pound of gold on their person into her feasts. "So, when is this? Do I need to RSVP or something?"
Stifling a yawn, the messenger continued: "The queen has requested that all guests arrive by sunset tomorrow, though the coronation is three days after that. If you're sure you can't attend, though, I'd be happy to take a message back to her majesty explaining why you rejected her offer in favor of staying at home."
Ah, one of those requests. At least she probably wouldn't have me arrested. The messenger stared at her as she silently weighed the options. On the one hand, I'd be hanging out with a bunch of SkyWings that think I'm a monster. On the other, Ruby would probably tolerate me a lot more if I made a good showing, and I can take Clay along too. Oh, and Cliff would probably be happy to see me. "Alright, I'll be there. Hope nobody gets too scared."
He grinned wearily. "I'll relay that to her majesty, then. See you tomorrow-oh, and I'll just, er, leave this on the floor," he said, setting the scroll down in front of her.
"Thanks," she said as he turned and stumbled towards the cave opening. With a grunt, he tossed himself off the edge, wings catching the air and carrying him in a wobbly glide away from the mountain until he was just a little orange speck.
She sighed, staring down at the scroll, and turned back down the hallway. Time to break the news to Clay.
All in all, he took it pretty well. The Herbology class had just finished their first trimester evaluations anyway, so there wasn't much to do besides tend a couple of herb gardens and tend to the various headache and sprain patients that flew in from Sanctuary. "-and I'm sure the students can handle that. As long as Boto doesn't stain anyone's fangs blue by mistake." He'd sounded pretty eager for the break, too, or maybe just eager for the feast. And, of course, the opportunity to share a set of private rooms with her. Not that there was anything untoward going on, but they couldn't get very physical while Moon and Kinkajou were there, let alone the other four dragonets of destiny.
The flight was long, but not tiring. For the most part the summer sky stayed clear, and neither of them carried luggage-aside from a basket of snacks for Clay to graze from while they flew, which was an impressive display of coordination and appetite. They had been making small-talk, swapping little riddles and funny anecdotes, but as they drew close to the Skywing capital, he shuddered. Peril could tell he was nervous.
"What is it?" she asked, concerned. I hope he's not getting worn out. We've still got a few miles to go and those rocks do not look like a comfy place to spend the night.
"Nothing," he replied, but his eyes were fixed ahead. She couldn't tell on what, though-the palace had always looked like that.
Oh duh, the palace. Not exactly full of happy memories for him. Peril recalled, feeling a bit selfish for taking him along. "It's not the most attractive place, is it..."
"I forgot how tall the spires were… Or maybe I thought I would've grown."
If she hadn't been flying, she would've draped a wing over him. Maybe not for very long, though. "Well, you don't need to be nervous as long as I'm around. Anyone who tries to chain you up is gonna have to get through me!"
"Thanks." He smiled, but she could tell his thoughts were still elsewhere.
"Hmm… you've never been to a SkyWing feast, have you?" If nothing else, food will cheer him up.
"Not unless you count half-eaten carcasses and pigeons, no. Not that I resent the pigeons, of course, but I am a pretty big dragon. I'd need at least ten pigeons these days," he joked.
She chuckled, banking down towards the landing stage. "Usually we go with something bigger, like cave bears."
Clay's eyes went wide, and he nearly fell flat on his face as they landed. The landing stage was a simple affair, a claw-scratched cliff hanging from the upper terraces of the palace where dignitaries came and went. It wasn't empty, though-two soldiers arrayed in shining cuirasses and carrying gilded lances were standing vigil. One was holding a long scroll, so she trotted over to him, shaking her wings to get the weariness out. They drew close together as she walked up, crossing their spears to block the entrance.
"I'm here for the coronation," she said. He glared at her. "Well? Are you going to let me in or not?" Clay had mostly regained his composure by this point, and came up beside her.
"Funny thing is, this list here has names on it, not portraits," the guard drawled, shaking his scroll a bit. His partner looked over at her, then did a double-take. She looked so desperate to say something, but that was probably against regulation.
Great, the one SkyWing who's never seen my face. I shouldn't be so ornery, really-he's probably the only one who'll tolerate me for the next few days. "I'm Peril, and Clay's my plus-one." The second guard did another double-take, her eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. If Peril didn't do something quick, there was going to be a serious friendly-fire incident.
"Oh, Peril. Peril, Peril…" He ran his claw down the list, making a show of looking through all of the names. There couldn't've been more than twenty on there. "Ah, there it is. You're sleeping in Room Thirty-Two, this floor, but right now the queen is expecting all her guests to come to the main hall for the reception." They raised their spears, finally, and Peril stepped through with a grumble.
The hallway beyond had changed a fair bit in her year and half of absence. Black rocks still burned in lanterns on the wall, but some sort of netting, held just above the fuel by metal frameworks, glowed even brighter than the flames, casting everything in stark white light. The floor glittered in red granite and white marble, and the tiles were impossibly well-polished for such a high-traffic area. Once they were a few strides into the mountain-and the second guard was telling off the first for "living in a cavern your whole life"-Clay spoke up.
"Are all SkyWings like that?" he asked.
"Nah, just most of us." She shrugged. "I don't know what that guy's deal was, though. He should treat his queen's guests with more respect. Or at least treat me with more respect."
"Maybe he's used to dealing with people who believe everyone should know them," he pondered. A servant poked their head out of a side door, but made the wise decision to let them pass.
"Well, he's pretty bad at it. And what about you? You're practically royalty yourself."
"I don't think they're as fond of me as you are."
"They better-" she cut herself off, realizing he'd been joking. "Oh, here's the main hall," she said, nodding to the doors ahead. They were large enough for two Darkstalkers to pass, if you stacked him, and encrusted with fine copper and bronze filigree. She'd seen them before, of course. Her eyes were drawn, as always, to the thin threads of gold that flowed up and out of the sun at the base, up into the Skywing seal to wrap around its diamond eyes. They reminded her of her own scales.
Through the doors, she could hear the din of conversation, so she paused for a moment outside. Giving Clay a moment to marvel at the doors was just a bonus. Then she set her claws on either side of the seam, and heaved. The doors opened soundlessly, but everyone in the room beyond turned to see who was coming in nevertheless. Force of habit drove her to take a quick headcount.
There was Ruby, holding a carefully neutral expression along with a canape, and clustered around her a gaggle of SkyWing nobles. Farther out were a number of dragons that she'd seen Scarlet browbeating once or twice-mine bosses, mostly. Then there were the other diplomats, one or two from each tribe-and was that a HiveWing, over in the corner?
After a moment, the conversations resumed, aside from a few odd looks, and they tiptoed in. "Well, nobody screamed or assumed they were being executed, so we're off to a good start," she said, quietly enough that only Clay could hear her.
He didn't return her smile, being too busy taking everything in. "Hey, are those snacks for-"
A SkyWing had broken loose from the second group, and ran over to them. "Peril! I'm so glad you could make it!" Do I know this guy? Oh wait, his feet-he was the messenger, wasn't he? Claws clattering on the tile, he stumbled to a halt in front of them, and held out a claw to shake.
Clay took it, and he seemed a bit less amused by that. Well, better than being on fire, dude. "Hi, I'm Clay, Peril's-."
"Cool, cool," he said, then turned back to Peril. "Hah, they said I couldn't get you to show up. 'Too busy at that silly school' my hindquarters! I'm Scorch, by the way." He held out his claw again, and Peril stared at him.
"You're gonna be scorched, if you keep trying to shake my claw."
He laughed. "There's that razor wit we all love! Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone!" he said, beckoning her to follow. Has this guy totally lost it? She glanced at Clay, trying to convey her confusion, but his only response was a shrug. Well, no point in throwing away what few allies I… apparently have.
"Lead on, I guess," she replied. The yip of excitement Scorch uttered was practically deafening, and there were a few laughs from the noble crowd. As it turned out, that was where he was taking her. Despite their humor, the noble SkyWings parted instantly as they saw who was approaching, splitting the crowd open so wide it was practically a line. In the middle stood only Queen Ruby and a few others, presumably her bravest(or most ignorant) generals.
"Peril…" the queen ventured, and the awkwardness was palpable. "Oh, and Clay!" she continued, seizing on his presence to defuse things. "I've heard… well, I haven't heard much, but all of it is good! How is the, er, school going these days?" Unlike Scorch, she prudently avoided extending a claw to Peril and went straight for Clay.
Though Ruby was clearly no threat to him, there was still fear in his eyes as he took her hand, but it faded a little as he shook. "Pretty good, I'd say. Nobody's unleashed a sealed ancient evil from its resting place under the mountain for nearly two trimesters."
"That's a relief." From somewhere behind her, there was a little squeak. As it grew in intensity, she shifted uncomfortably and for a moment Peril thought there was something amiss. Then Prince Cliff bounded over her shoulder, straight for Peril. She shouted and cringed back, but Ruby caught him deftly, holding the yearling in one claw like a particularly excitable scavenger. "Dear, you know it's rude to jump on our guests. Especially the ones that would set you on fire."
"But mom, I haven't seen Peril in months," he protested, wriggling in his mother's grasp.
Peril herself was feeling very strange at the moment. She really wanted to give the prince a hug, for one thing, but obviously that was impossible. Also, he'd definitely improved his grammar, which was a little disconcerting. "Sorry, Cliff, but I'm really very hot. Not good climbing material."
The prince grumbled as Ruby set him down, but made no move towards Peril. "I'll just stand right here so we can catch up. Um, um, what to say first…" He seemed flummoxed by the sheer number of things that had undoubtedly happened in the past few months.
"There certainly are a lot of interesting dragons at this party, huh?" she prompted.
"Not really. Mostly just SkyWings who don't want to talk. Ooh, but the dipple-uh, diplomats are all really cool! One of them's a real live HiveWing; do you think he can shoot acid, or is that just a story?"
"I'm not really sure, I haven't met him yet. Clay's sister can shoot acid, though."
Clay froze, realizing that Cliff was now staring squarely at him. "Hi, I'm Clay. Peril and I are… good friends. And Glory almost never spits acid," he said, scratching his neck with one wing.
"Your sister is Queen Glory? That's almost at good as being Peril's friend!" Suddenly, Cliff sprang to his feet. "Hey, wanna see something cool?" he asked, leaning in conspiratorially.
"Uh… yes?" Clay ventured, and Peril nodded.
"Yes! Come on!" He took a few steps towards a side door, but before he could lead them away, one of the generals who'd been politely avoiding looking at Peril stepped forward. Scorch was beside her, confusion on his face.
"Now hold on, I think we should finish introducing everyone first," he ventured, and the dragoness nodded. She was bigger than Ruby by far, but impossibly lithe, and her scales shimmered with unusual blue barring. Under her left eye, a scar pushed through the scales, thin and puckered like a line of molten copper. "Peril, this is General Scoria."
"Nice to meet you. I think the prince is getting impatient, though." Indeed, Cliff was glaring at the general with the hatred only a frustrated child could muster. Ruby wouldn't have stood for this, but she'd already moved to the newest set of guests to enter. At least that meant that she still trusted Peril with her kid-probably a poor judgement.
"The prince can wait a little while, surely?" Scoria asked, patting him on the head. He grumbled, but sat down. Still, his wings shifted uncomfortably. "That's better." She turned to Peril. "My, how you've grown!"
"I don't think we've met."
"Who else would've given me this?" she said, gesturing to her scar. Peril flinched, and Clay tensed. Scoria waved dismissively. "It's nothing, really, just a love-tap from a very young and clumsy firescales. I've felt far worse." The scar looked a little too precise for Peril to believe that, though.
"Whatever you say, general. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about, or can we-"
"Yes, actually. I'd like to clear the air on something." One of Peril's eye ridges crept upward, and after a moment Scoria continued. "I think that you might be under the impression that the SkyWings still regard you with fear and distrust."
"Most everyone else does, yeah."
"Ah, but some of us have seen through Scarlet's trickery." Scorch nodded furiously as she spoke. "By all accounts, you have become quite the hero at that… academy."
"Peril is a student like any other. Er, she follows the same rules,that is." Clay said, fumbling slightly.
"How nice. My point is, a lot of SkyWings look up to you, now. You've become something of a celebrity." Peril could almost hear the dramatic pause that Scoria was trying to leave out. "And I'm afraid you aren't at all prepared to deal with that."
"Nice to know you have faith in me."
"I wasn't finished," she growled, and for a moment, black smoke came from her nostrils. "That is to say, I'd like to help you. Understanding the vagaries of fame among the SkyWings is a challenge, but it carries with it great rewards."
Listening to you pontificate is a challenge. "Cool. I'd like to see what the prince has to show me, so one of us isn't getting what they want." As Peril turned to leave, she let her tail whip around just far enough that it passed within a hair's breadth of Scoria's un-scarred cheek. The general showed no fear, only annoyance. "Lead on, Cliff."
Clay glanced back, but Peril refused to look as they walked away and Scoria followed, pushing through the crowd as it closed up behind the firescales. "I don't think you quite-oof-understand what I'm-'scuse me-offering. Joining the SkyWing elite-ach-is a privilege for only the most beloved. You could-move over-be respected and adored by-"
Scoria was finally shut up by the side door slamming shut in her face. Peril jumped, and finally looked was a slight smirk on Clay's face as his tail retreated from whacking the door shut. "What a piece of work."
"Scori's usually not so nice. Maybe she likes you?" Cliff wondered, as he led them down the hallway to a central flight of stairs, open in the middle to let dragons fly up, if they wanted to. "My room is all the way on the tippy-top floor, right next to mom's." Leaping into the air, he flapped up the shaft much more adeptly than Peril remembered, and Clay had some trouble keeping up.
The top floor was wider than the others, and its roof was a large dome of glass and iron, through which Peril could see the stars, as well as the thin drifts of snow heaped up on the glass. Despite the altitude, though, it was warm and easy to breathe. "Wow…" Peril said, staring up through the roof. She'd never seen the night sky so clearly before. And yet Cliff barely glanced up, hurrying them to his room.
They followed him into the palatial space, and she realized what he'd been so excited about. Most of the room was pretty standard opulence, all gilded wood and wrought-iron, but in one corner was a little wooden easel. The ten or so paintings next to it weren't amazing, but Cliff still rushed over to them.
"I'm an artist now! Look, here's one of mom, and one of the Milky Way, ooh, and this one's Jade Mountain!" He pointed to one of the portrait-style canvases, which held a somewhat lopsided recreation of the twin peaks. They looked a lot friendlier than in real life, and Peril could see a few dragons flitting about in the background. "I never saw it though, so I just guessed what it was like."
Clay stepped forward to examine the painting more closely. "It's certainly the best painting of Jade Mountain I've ever seen. How long have you been doing this?"
"Just a few months. My art tutor says I have 'natural talent'." Clay set the painting down, and Cliff immediately handed him another (a SkyWing in flight) before moving over to his sleeping area. It was covered in enough cushions and blankets to wholly engulf the poor boy, but he slipped under them instead, lifting the mattress and searching for something underneath. "There's a few that she doesn't like. I don't know why, I tried really hard!"
Peril looked a little closer, making sure not to ignite any of his bedding or the canvases; which was no easy feat. What would a SkyWing teacher think is inappropriate? Did he draw someone in a good mood?
With a final grunt, Cliff yanked out two more paintings, one in each claw, and showed them to her. "See? Pretty good.'
"They're… wow." Peril was no art critic, but she could tell that there was something distinct about these two images. The strokes were broader, more punchy, and the colors were a lot darker, drawing attention to only the highlights. The subjects, though… she saw the tutor's point. One showed Ruby's victory over Scarlet, here rendered much larger than she'd been in real life, and Peril could tell that both of the combatant's scales were soaked in gore. The other was a portrait.
"It's a picture of you! I tried to, uh, make it more interesting."
It certainly was. Peril could see her figure, certainly, but the scene failed to fit into her mind. In the painting, she was laying in a little forest clearing with Cliff, staring up at the clouds. There was no smoke or flame around her, no heaps of ash and bone, just trees and flowers. This is... no, I never could've…
"Uh, Peril, are you okay?"
"Y-yeah, I just really like it, is all." She looked over at Clay, and he smiled back at her. I made my choice. No going back. Hesitating only a little, she held out a claw towards Cliff. "Could I get a better look?"
"Sure!" Cliff replied, happily. Clay yelped, but before he could do anything the painting was in her hand. It burned quickly, the fire spreading from her clawtips across the canvas, which snapped and tore and flickered in all sorts of curious colors as it burned away. Then there was only the frame, and after a moment that too crumbled into ash.
"Peril!" Clay shouted, and she blinked.
"I-sorry, that was…" Cliff let out a loud squeal, and she cringed. Her wings were nearly over her eyes when she realized that he was poking at the ashes, not just bawling. "Uh, Cliff? You good?"
"I just wanted to show you my paintings but this is so much better!" He scooped up a clawful of ash and carried it over to his easel. "Real ash from the coolest dragon in Pyrrhia! Oh, this is the best thing ever!"
"Hang on, you're not mad that Peril just obliterated one of your paintings?" Clay asked. She glared at him, and he shrugged back.
"No way!" he replied, pouring out a bit of the darker ash into a small cup and mixing it with a bit of mineral oil. What came out when he dipped the brush in was a striking red paint, which he began slapping onto the canvas happily. "All my paints are made from ash, but usually it's from, uh… those big metal ovens. This is way better!"
"Huh. I didn't know ash was so useful." That explained the dustiness of the corner where the easel was kept, at least. Peril was happy to watch Cliff paint, but Clay trotted over to her. A shiver ran through her as he whispered in her ear.
"What was that about, Peril? Are you doing okay?" he asked.
She turned to reply, still keeping one eye on the visage forming on Cliff's canvas. "It just reminded me of the last time I was here. The worst parts of it, that is."
"The worst part was sitting in a clearing with your friend?"
"If it reminds me of the fact that I can never do that again, and I once had the chance to? Yeah." Clay grimaced, and she realized Cliff was staring at them curiously. "We were just… talking about some grown-up stuff. Nothing for princes to worry about." After a moment, Cliff shrugged and turned back to the painting. It was only then that Peril noticed Clay's wing laying over her back, just gingerly enough to avoid the worst of her heat. She snuggled a little closer, savoring the river-rock smoothness of his armor plates.
They were forced to separate in a hurry as a knock came at the door. "Ah! Just a sec!" yelped Clay, running over to the door as fast as his bum leg could carry him. As Peril drew up behind him, he cracked it open and saw an unfamiliar face waiting on the other side. The HiveWing from earlier was standing there, looking very bored. His scales were beige and tan, with only the barest black streaks, and despite his alien appearance Peril could already tell he was no looker.
"You are needed downstairs. The queen wants all her guests present for as long as possible," he announced, and they stepped out into the hallway.
"See you tomorrow, Cliff! Don't stay up too late painting!" Peril shouted over her shoulder as she left. Clay mumbled a goodbye too, but he was mostly staring at the HiveWing.
The foreigner returned his examination, then held out a hand. "I am Anopheles, and you two are?"
"I'm Clay, and this is Peril," he replied, returning the handshake. "She can't shake hands with you, I'm afraid."
He let out a buzzing sigh. "Is that a cultural more here, or simply a deliberate snub?"
"I'm a firescales. If I shook your hand, you'd lose it."
"Oh!" he said, recoiling suddenly and examining her with fresh eyes. "A Pyrrhian abberation? And you are allowed to roam free?"
"As of last year, yeah. Got a problem with that?" She said, pushing towards him even as he drew back.
"I, ah, meant no offense. It is simply the way things are done in my country. Pantala is a very flammable place." Anopheles shrugged, already turning away from them to leap down the shaft. They followed after him, and for a moment the rushing air wiped out any other sound. Then they fluttered to a stop at the bottom, and he continued. "So, what do you two make of this affair?"
"Certainly the best formal reception I've ever been to," Clay joked.
"Really? I find the enclosed space quite… oh, I see. You were being humorous to disguise a lack of experience."
"Yeah…"
"Kind of rude to point that out, don't you think?" Peril asked, rudely.
Anopheles cringed, and a sharp scent of licorice filled the air. "Apologies. The HiveWings have more… subtle ways of communicating our emotion than sarcasm. I am still developing an understanding of the Pyrrhian way of doing things, even with my unique talents in the area."
"Unique talents?" Clay asked, as they passed through the servant's entrance and back into the grand hall. Nobody paid much notice to this time, though Ruby did look away from her brothers to nod in their direction.
"I am very sensitive to certain emotional indicators, even more so than other HiveWings," With an odd snuffle, he flared a second pair of nostrils behind his first. "That is why Queen Wasp assigned me… here…" He trailed off as Scoria and Scorch approached again, looking slightly irritated. Of course, "slightly irritated" for a SkyWing was "murderously enraged" in any other tribe.
"Thank you for fetching Peril. You're dismissed," she said, and Anopheles sighed before trotting off. Scorch handed him a canape. Then Scoria turned to the two of them, and the flame in her eyes was reduced to mere coals. "Welcome back to the reception, you two."
"Have you got anything else to say? Or did you just want to bother us?" Peril asked
"Peril…" Clay murmured, bumping his wing against her flank.
Scoria leaned in, and Peril felt a bit uneasy as her own body language was turned against her. They were eye to eye; she could've killed Scoria with a twitch but the fear wasn't in her opponent's eyes. "You really have no idea what you're doing, do you?" A sigh almost forced its way out of her as Scoria pulled back. "Fine. You don't want my help, then make do on your own. I've got other proteges anyway. Come on, Scorch." Her tail nearly whacked Clay in the face as she turned around and strolled off.
Scorch didn't follow her right away. Instead, he scurried over to them, wings pulled in tight. "I'm really sorry about her, guys, but she's been under a lot of stress lately. With Scarlet's challenge, and the new tariffs, and all that."
And why should I care? Peril wondered, but said nothing.
"You should really consider her offer, though. Scoria is one of the most influential people in the kingdom, especially now that Scarlet's gone. And if you two worked together… well, that'd just be great for everyone!"
"Hm. See, I don't think you're grasping what I'm trying to communicate. I. Don't. Care." Taking Clay's hand, she tried to walk away but Scorch cut them off.
"Please, just give her a chance-"The next few seconds passed faster than usual. All Peril had time to notice was a sudden cool pressure against her scales, too far forward to be Clay, and then the screaming started. Scorch fell back, and she could see that a huge patch of his scales were, well, scorched away.
Peril shouted incoherently, trying not to look at the gruesome scene in front of her. Without even looking at her, Clay charged into action, pointing at a few shocked nobles who were looking on. "You two, I need one of those curtains! And you, a pitcher of cold water!" They stared at him, confused. "Do you want this guy to die? Go, now!" She didn't see them rush into action, as she was too busy wrapping her wings over her head, trying very hard to be as small as she could. The only thing she could focus on, in that moment, was the hint of a grin on Scoria's face.
Author's Notes:Thanks for reading! This chapter is the beginning of a new arc for the story which should carry us through the end of the year. After that, I plan on taking a bit of a hiatus to work on other projects and/or sleep 16 hours a day.
As always, any comments are appreciated, even a simple "good job". Or a simple "bad job", though if you post that I will probably reply and ask what your criticisms are.
PS: a special thanks to all you people on FF.N. the response to this story has been great-a better engagement rate than anything else i've published. hopefully not just because i made the summary sound really smutty.