Hello again, and happy Friday! This chapter we've got Ragnar in an argument, Sienna plotting, and Justice having a nice, polite chat.

38. A Traitor Among Us

"Gud-bye, Scarr."

"Ragnar..."

A hand reached out. Ragnar's head moved without thought, irresistibly. He breathed in the smell of hay and sweat and damp rich earth. It was nothing like Ozpin's scent, but somehow he'd associated them together. Maybe because it reminded him of sleeping in the earth stables, so very long ago.

"It's dangerous. You can't even fly yet."

There were a lot of things Ragnar could have said. He was a drain on the boy's farm—he never said anything, but he could tell he was struggling to keep up with a dragon's appetite. Oscar was in danger for hiding him. The council were already sniffing around, the boy had told him himself, it was only a matter of time before they found him.

But he didn't care about any of that. "Ozz."

Oscar looked down. Ragnar could see hesitation on his face... and then, a flash of something. A spark of determination that scared him more than any Grimm ever could. "I'm coming with you."

"No! Nnot safe."

"Of course I'll be safe." Oscar put his hands on his hips. "Unless you're saying that you won't be careful out there?"

Ragnar snorted indignantly. "Sscar... small. Rrak-narr old."

"And if you have to make sure I'm safe, you won't jump headfirst into a fight with the council."

He changed tack. "Ahnt."

"I'll write her a note."

Ragnar gave the boy a disapproving glare.

"Fine! I'll explain to her, in person, that there's something really important I need to do and I'll be gone for a while."

"Nno."

"But—"

"Scarr... no need... ffight. No..."

"I know I don't have to." Oscar reached up to scratch behind his ears. Ragnar lowered his head, hating the purr that started in his chest. "I want to. I've always wanted to do something, something that matters. And I think this is it."

Ragnar set his jaw stubbornly, pulling his head back so the pleasant scratches would stop interfering with his judgment. "Nno."

"Do you want to go alone?"

He was silent—he couldn't lie to the boy that had saved his life.

"So let me help you."

"Not... Nnot..."

Oscar reached up to stroke his muzzle, pressed his forehead against his nose. "Please? I can't help feeling like you need someone."

For an instant he saw silver eyes boring into his own. Remembered the rage that had swept over him, carried him away from the horror and grief, made it so easy. It was simpler to go alone. He wanted to throw himself at the murderers who had stolen his rider from him, and trade his own life for as many of theirs as he could. If he were alone...

But he wasn't. There was Oscar, yes... and his students. Ozpin's students. All those younglings, stuck fighting a battle he and their professors had failed to win for them.

"Go," Ragnar said. "Ahnt. Talk."

Hope lit up the boy's face. "You mean...?"

"Scarr... come. Nno ffight! Sstay safe."

Oscar wrapped his arms around Ragnar's neck, hanging from him for an instant before he jumped away. "I will."

Ragnar ached. He'd held Ozpin as he cried, let him scratch the ridges under his eyes, flown with him into battle... but it had been a very long time since his rider had been so playful. Carefree. Too many years spent fighting Grimm. Too many reminders that the creatures of darkness were the least of their problems.

He nudged Oscar. "Go. Ahnt. Go."

The boy sprinted away, vanishing between the trees. Ragnar waited until he was out of sight before he curled up, putting his paws over his head and shaking silently. Wishing for the years when he'd slept in that earth stable, smelled those familiar smells. Wishing for the silver-haired boy who wrestled with him and built tiny clockwork toys. And wishing for the old man he'd become, the one who always knew what to do.

"Any hatchings today?"

Sienna already knew the answer. Corsac shook his head anyway. "They could start as soon as tomorrow, or as late as next week. It's hard to be sure."

They'd had their new equipment set up for several days now. Injections had resumed as normal. But they were only just now feeling the gap that the fire had caused, when the eggs that should have been prepared during that time hadn't been injected. Two dragons had hatched—both untouched by Dust. They'd already had plenty of broodies.

Sienna took a deep breath. They would recover the operation. She'd already gotten a message from Hazel promising several pieces of injection equipment and almost half a ton of Dust, all liberated from Shade. It would go some way towards making up for the egg they'd lost. Things were getting better.

She saw Ilia coming from across the camp. A junior member followed her, his wrist in her hand, as she flashed red and yellow to startle people out of her way. Sienna groped for his name and came up blank. One look at his wild eyes and sweaty face had her dreading what he was about to say.

"Sienna!" Ilia stopped in front of her, slightly out of breath, and shoved him forward. "Tell her what you told me, Perry."

He pushed his glasses up with a shaky hand. "Trifa's missing."

"What?"

"I don't know what happened! We were on watch last night, and she went off to chase this rabbit—"

He quailed at the look Sienna was giving him.

"I know we're supposed to stay together, but we've been hungry! I looked, and I found... I found her knife."

Sienna tried not to explode at him. "Ilia, go tell the Albains and the Lieutenant. Perry, show me the knife."

It was worse than she'd thought. Scraps of webbing hung between two trees, shredded by something sharp. And Trifa's knife lay in the dirt, a trace of red on the tip. Blood, not ichor.

"Not a Grimm." A human, or a faunus, must have been trapped in that webbing, and cut themselves free. Trifa had wounded them, whoever they were... and there was more webbing a little further along. Trampled undergrowth. She'd dropped the knife, maybe, and tried to run. Could she have gotten away?

No. She would have come back to the camp by now.

Sienna whirled on Perry. "Did you see anything?"

"I thought I heard a noise, but by the time I got here she was gone."

First Thistle, and now Trifa. The first disappearance she'd thought was probably a Grimm, but now... Someone was ambushing their people in the woods. Someone was sabotaging their equipment. And she was willing to bet the two were one and the same.

"Ilia," she snapped, and jerked her head off to the left. They followed Trifa's trail as far as they could, but it didn't take long for them to run out of clues to follow. By then they . "This is too much to be coincidence. We've moved twice now, and it hasn't helped."

Supplies kept going missing, then turning up days later, torn to shreds. Someone knew exactly where they were, exactly where they kept everything... either there was someone following them—and camping out right under their noses without anyone noticing, which was impossible. Or...

"It's one of us."

Ilia turned a sickly shade of green. "I... I thought it might be, but..."

Sienna started to pace. "There aren't many people I can eliminate as suspects. I doubt the Lieutenant would work with humans, and you've been loyal to the organization for years."

"You can trust me."

"Don't," Sienna snapped. "Just... don't. I am trusting you. And you're the only one that can do this, anyway."

"Do... what?"

"Prepare. I don't want to break with Cinder yet—not when we have so few dragons—but if things keep going the way they are, she'll drop us. So we do damage control. I'll go to the Albains and the Lieutenant, and we'll arrange for some of the incubators to go missing. It won't look out of place, at this rate. Some of the eggs will hatch prematurely."

Ilia nodded slowly. "And Fennac and the Lieutenant will get some of those 'premature' eggs."

"Exactly. On your end..." Sienna paused, watching the girl's face carefully. "I need you to pay a visit to Blake Belladonna."

The reaction was violent, and immediate. She went stoplight red, then paper white, and finally settled on a fluorescent shade of pink. "I don't—"

Sienna relaxed slightly. The connection between the two made her uneasy... but the fact that Ilia was so transparent about it was good. She didn't seem like she'd even be capable of lying. "Take Justice. I managed to wheedle a rough location for Raven's next campsite from Hazel, so it shouldn't take too long to find them. Don't let anyone else see you."

"But... what do you want me to do?"

"My job is to strengthen us. Yours is to weaken Cinder."

Suspicion buzzed at the back of Justice's mind all evening, until he finally slunk away from the camp and found the tree covered in shredded webs. He sniffed the base.

Sand. Dead grass. Ash.

His head rose, his eyes straining in the dark. Justice followed his nose. He kept bumping into trees, but the smell grew stronger and stronger, until he stopped dead next to a small stream. The smell ended there. Had she walked through the water? Or...

Another sniff. Sand. Dried leaves. Blood. There was a dark stain on a nearby rock, where a drop of blood had fallen. The shadows were so thick he could hardly see, but he could make out the shape of a fallen tree. He set his foot against it, to turn it over—

Pain. Claws raked across his foreleg, and a blast of dry air hit his chest. Scales cracked. Justice strangled his roar. "Wait!" he hissed. A flash of pale yellow, catching a shaft of moonlight that penetrated the canopy of leaves overhead. Claws raked across his nose.

He tried to pin her. She twisted out of his grasp and pelted towards the stream on three legs, the fourth curled against her chest. Justice pounced.

They rolled over one another, hit the water. Mud flew everywhere. He ended up on top of her, pinning her against the riverbed, while she hissed and spat and struggled. Seconds later he realized her growling was pained, not angry.

The water?

Justice grabbed her in his jaws by the base of her neck and lifted her out of the stream. The water evaporated off her in a burst of steam. She twisted and bit him just under the jaw, and he finally whipped his head to the side and flung her away from him.

"Stop it!" he roared, putting a paw to the bite on his neck. "I just want to talk to you!"

She rose, her legs shaking under her. Now that she was standing nearer to the water, a little light came through the trees and he could see that there was a cut in her right foreleg. He remembered the knife. She bared her teeth, her head fins flaring.

"Why?" He moved to step forward, but froze when she crouched down as if to pounce. "Why are you doing this?"

All he got for an answer was a growl.

Justice wanted to be angry. He wanted to pin her down and grab her by the scruff and drag her back to the camp. But seeing her standing there, one leg folded under her, shaking, poised to flee... he just felt sad. "You can come back," he said, but he wasn't so sure that was true anymore. Sienna was so angry... and he'd be leaving soon, with Ilia.

"Can... can we talk?" He sat on his haunches. "Not about anything important. Just... for a little while, can we pretend none of it ever happened?"

Her ears twitched, and there was a hitch in her growl. "...Why?"

"I just... want to."

She bristled, bared her teeth again.

Justice let his ears droop. "I want to talk to someone. Like I used to talk to..."

"Rudder."

He jumped back as if she'd bitten him again. "How did you—?!"

"Heard." She started to pace back and forth, still limping, watching him. "Talk. Want. Want..."

It seemed neither of them could put it into words.

So Justice started to talk about Haven. About Rudder and Jade and Whisper. About Brand and Harbinger. About Ilia. But never about the Dust explosions, the missing supplies. The missing people. At the thought, he broke off mid-sentence.

She still hadn't said more than five words to him. Her eyes gleamed in the dark as she tilted her head, waiting.

"You need to stop." He backed up. "You have to stop attacking them. I don't—why?"

Her injured foreleg flexed. "Hunters. Bad. Hurts..."

"No more," he said firmly. "If we're going to talk again, no more. You run away."

"Run." Her head bobbed, the tip of her tongue darting out like a snake's. "Do. Do run. They chase."

"I can keep visiting you, but only if you don't hurt them anymore. Please?"

She shuffled her wings. "Try. Will try."

"That's good." He shifted from paw to paw. "And you need to stop blowing up the camp, too. And no more stealing."

"No."

He reared back, startled. "I can't talk to you if you're—"

"No!" Her eyes glittered. "Bad. Bad tent. Evil."

"It's not evil. It's just their lab."

"Go," she hissed. "Look."

"I'm not supposed to."

"No. No stop."

"Fine," he snarled, and turned to go. She bit the tip of his tail. "Hey!"

"Come. Talk. Talk more."

"I have to go now."

She pounced, her wings flapping wildly. Justice flared his own to knock her away. She landed on her feet and skidded in the dirt. Crouched. Poised to leap at him again.

"I'll come back later!" he said hurriedly. "As long as you don't hurt anyone, I'll come back. Okay?"

She hissed at him and vanished into the brush.

Ilia met Justice on his way back to camp, her skin shifting rapidly from red to yellow to orange. He told her it had been a Grimm. "Dead," he said, over and over, but the panicked look in her eyes only grew. He didn't let her try to bandage his cuts, for fear she'd notice the dried, cracked scales on his chest.

That night he lay down, wide awake, even though Ilia had told him they were waking up early tomorrow, because Sienna had an important mission for them. Justice whimpered to himself and put his paws over his head. Now he was lying to his rider. He should tell her... tell her...

"Come. Talk. Talk more."

He wasn't a traitor. He wasn't bad... but he wanted. He wanted so badly it felt like he was boiling. And no matter how much he shouldn't, he couldn't stop.

She won't hurt the faunus anymore, he told himself. And if she does... He'd have to tell them, then. Justice curled into a ball and let out a low, piteous whine.

"Blake. I'm here because... there's something you need to know."

Ilia groaned and buried her head in her hands. "Idiot. She's going to ask why you're telling her all this."

She kept her voice low, addressing her hands where they tangled together in her lap. She'd tried to sleep, she really had—but at some point she'd given up and sat up on her sleeping bag, whispering so quietly that her voice hardly reached her own ears.

"You need to know who you're working for." She clenched her hands into fists. "So you can run off and leave everyone you know behind! Again!"

Her voice rose. Justice stirred where he slept, curled around his injuries, smoke billowing between his jaws when he snored. An ear flicked once. Ilia stayed silent, watching him in case he moved again. Her heart clenched at the sight of the long scratches on his nose.

"Dead," he'd said. Killed a Grimm all alone in the woods. No hesitation. No fear. And she wasn't even surprised. She remembered him looming in a haze of smoke, an ominous glow coming from the back of his throat. Sweat beading on her forehead as she stood between him and the human that had tried to kill her. "Bad," he'd said.

"Sienna is trying to get rid of them," she tried instead. "Because they're... meddling, they want to make us go faster—"

Her skin turned a putrid yellow-green. She couldn't lie to Blake. Not when she'd seen Sienna fuming, the desperate light in her eyes as she talked about the sabotage. "I'll deal with the traitor." And after a whole week without a single dead hatchling, all anyone wanted to do was get things back on schedule.

Ilia forced herself to take a deep breath. "You didn't want to be part of what they were doing in the labs anymore, but you still are. Except now it's some human calling the shots and not—"

She choked on the words. On the memory of a tungsten chain winding around Brand's forepaws, the lean and sullen look that had haunted him for years. They'd tended to him together. She'd thought that was what fire dragons were like, what Brand was like. With Hazel...

He was gaining weight. The growling and snarling whenever someone reached out a hand had turned into wary sniffs and, rarely, a light touch of his nose. He still slept long into the afternoon and spent his nights tossing and turning and blowing smoke... but he was better. And it seemed like he was getting gentler every day, while Justice was only getting wilder.

I can't.

She didn't dare mouth the words.

There was no right way to say this. No right way to lie—by omission or otherwise. Not when she already owed Blake so much, for never saying those things she'd thought were jealousy. She just couldn't do it.