Ever listened to the noises crocodiles make? Kinda sounds like somebody started a chainsaw at the bottom of a well, but like... the audio is playing at a quarter of the speed. Or possibly time itself has slowed. And you know they're coming up to kill and eat you.

Also, I had someone ask me in a review whether I planned on including Clover and the Ace-Ops. Short answer... probably not, sorry. There are already so many people and dragons to keep track of (why do i keep doing this to myself?), and they didn't exist yet when I planned everything out, and we're getting into the endgame as it is.

101. Smoke

They were late. Very late.

A dark cloud hung over Mistral's wall, streaked with cherry red where the Dust hadn't yet burned itself out. And, as Scarlet got closer, he noticed that the river that snaked its way towards the city was shimmering with ominous ripples.

Port waved his arms, signaling for them to speed up. Nimbus was already way ahead of him. Scarlet crouched low in the saddle to shield himself from the wind, and tried not to panic too much when he realized they were now outpacing most of the others.

As they swept in closer, he spotted shadows in the smoke. Some were definitely dragons, but some of their shapes were... off. Nimbus dipped down even lower, and one of them burst out of the haze so quickly they almost collided.

Red eyes fixed on them. Not a dragon at all—the chaos must have attracted Lancers. Scarlet yelped as the stinger shot towards his chest. There wasn't time for him to duck, but Nimbus twisted in midair so that it flew harmlessly between the dragon's legs. Roaring indignantly, he crashed head-on into the Grimm and grabbed one of its legs in his teeth.

They slammed into the side of a building. At the same time, there was a sound like distant thunder that went on much too long. A plume of dust joined the smoke and ash in the distance, and broken glass and rubble rained down into the street. This close Scarlet could see people, fleeing in panic from the fight up above. But there was nowhere to go. More lancers swarmed down into the streets, their antennae bristling.

Nimbus jumped off the first Grimm, which had gotten unlucky with a bit of rebar and was already dissolving. More shadows fell across the street—friendly ones, this time. Huo landed heavily in the middle of the road, stood up on his hind legs, and bellowed a challenge that sent the civilians scattering for cover. They were not, admittedly, the most friendly-looking reinforcements.

"We're here to help!" Sun assured them. Huo spat fire at a Lancer that dipped a little too low, vaporizing it in a cloud of evil-looking steam. That seemed to win over most of the people still outside.

Zircon joined them seconds later. He quailed slightly in the face of the horde of Lancers—but soon occupied himself in sniffing at the buildings around them and, in the case of one that had collapsed, digging through the rubble. He lifted out a small child who didn't seem to realize he wasn't one of the Grimm, judging by how hard the boy was crying. Zircon dropped him on his back with Sage, who went to work soothing him.

"Where's Nymph?" Sun shouted, over the din of Huo grappling a small Lancer between his front paws. Scarlet looked up. A few Lancers were still hovering overhead... but most of them seemed to have vanished.

No, hang on. There they were—in a halo around a large black dot that was falling right towards them. "Crap!" Scarlet blurted, and urged Nimbus back into the air.

Too late. Nymph and the Lancer she was tangled up with slammed into the roof of a building, spilling brick shards everywhere, then landed in a heap on the asphalt. She twisted instinctively to shield Neptune from the impact, and paid for it when she landed much too hard on her front paw. Her grip slackened just a little, and that was enough for her opponent to escape.

It was bigger than the others, and armored from its head to its stinger. Definitely a queen. And it was getting to its feet only a few yards away from a throng of terrified civilians.

"Go!" Scarlet shouted, urging Nimbus into a leap. His wings flared, carrying him over the crowd and onto the Queen's back. Its stinger lashed out, but not before Huo grabbed one of the monster's legs and yanked it off. It screeched, its aim went wide, and the stinger struck a lamppost instead.

The Grimm heaved and struggled. Nimbus tipped sideways, and before either of them could try to correct their balance they were already rolling to one side. They hit the wall of a nearby house shoulder-first and caved the whole thing in. Parts of the second story rained down on their heads. Scarlet threw his arms up and flinched as something heavy struck his shoulder.

Nymph roared and launched herself back into the fight. Sprinting on her three good legs, she caught one of the Grimm's wings in her teeth. Huo lunged forward to grab the other, and the pair of them heaved in unison. It thrashed, which only made them come off faster.

A noise stopped them cold. There was an old man in the room they'd just broken into, cowering under a coffee table. "Get out!" Sun shouted, as Huo clambered on top of the Grimm and tried to wrestle it to the ground. "Go!"

More Lancers converged on them. Nimbus pinned the Queen's stinger between his paws, to keep it from attacking anyone else. That freed up Nymph to shoot blasts of water at the smaller Lancers, but there were too many of them and the old guy still wasn't moving!

Scarlet opened his mouth to yell at him, but before he could Zircon thrust his head through the opening and grabbed him. Tucking him safe under one foreleg, he limped over to the rest of the civilians and gathered them under his belly. He flared his wings and bared his teeth at the Lancers, even though his ears were flat with terror.

A Lancer charged him. He swiped at it with a paw and backed away, curling his tail around his charges to keep them sheltered. A low growl built in the back of his throat.

Finally, Huo managed to pry loose some of the armor on the Queen's back. He blasted the weak spot with fire until the monster stopped struggling and crumbled away. He and Nimbus rushed outside to help the other two with the Lancers—the swarm was already thinning, and he could see more dragons in the sky overhead.

When the last Lancer turned to smoke, Zircon let out a little huff and collapsed onto his side, panting heavily. He licked at his paw, where one of the Lancers had manged to sting him. Sage patted his back. "Good boy," he said.

Zircon's tail gave a tired wag.

Despite herself, Pyrrha tightened her arms around Harpy's neck the instant she saw the wall. Or rather, the wreck of the wall. Grimm were already crawling out of the river and through the breach—and despite it being wide enough to fit Crucible quite comfortably, they were having some trouble squeezing through. Only three got in, that she could see, before a Council rider swept overhead. They didn't aim for the monsters—instead, one of them dropped a Dust bomb at the foot of a nearby building. There was a terrific crash, and a mountain of rubble tumbled down into the hole.

Harpy landed in a side-street a little ways away from the monsters, her ears perked tall, listening. It was all Pyrrha could do to hold on and try not to distract her at the wrong moment. She darted through an alley and sniffed the air.

Somewhere much too close, there came a sound like a motorcycle engine revving up—if that motorcycle was the size of a city bus and very, very angry. Pyrrha flinched and gestured frantically to Harpy to retreat, but the hybrid ignored her.

They darted down an alley, Harpy's footsteps so quiet that even right on her back Pyrrha could hardly hear them. She ducked behind a dumpster just in time. Something pale flashed by. A peek around the corner of the dumpster showed segment after segment of the Grimm's tail disappearing further into the city.

Harpy waited until its back legs came along. She dropped down, her hindquarters twitching in anticipation, and leaped before Pyrrha could so much as shout a warning. They collided with the monster right about where its 'knee' was, and Harpy's teeth clamped shut on vulnerable flesh.

It's tail lashed out. Harpy backed up to avoid it, which let the Grimm whirl around—tearing apart all the buildings facing them in the process.

It was fast. How on Remnant was something that big so fast?

"Up!" she shouted. Harpy was much too young to take off without a running start, but she seemed to understand what Pyrrha had meant. She scrabbled at the wall of a nearby shop, clambering up until she perched near the second story.

The Grimm's jaws opened wide enough that someone could have tossed a car inside without touching any of its teeth. Harpy lunged at the same time and blasted it full in the face with her powers. It reeled, bit down on nothing, and thrashed its head back and forth. Its eyes turned a much duller red that reminded her of dried blood. The Grimm drew itself up...

And Harpy darted up and over the roof, into the side-street, and vanished into the shadows. The Grimm lumbered after them. Just as it tried to cross the street, Harpy struck again, but this time her claws skittered harmlessly off its armor.

It reacted faster. The massive jaws were already slamming shut by the time Harpy tried to retreat. She threw herself backwards, so quickly that there was no hope of her staying on her feet—because she wasn't trying to. She was going to roll on her back to avoid the bite.

Pyrrha had just enough time to leap clear and avoid being squashed under Harpy. She landed hard on her tailbone, and for a horrible instant she lay prone on the ground with the Grimm looming over her. She could have counted its teeth.

The next heartbeat, Harpy scooped her up and darted away again—this time remembering that Pyrrha was on her back in time to duck under a bit of rebar that jutted from a nearby wall. The Grimm tried to follow, but they were smaller and could make sharper turns, and it soon lost track of them.

Harpy had done what she could—it would take a much bigger dragon to land a killing blow through all that armor.

"This is the worst idea I've ever had!" Whitley screamed into the wind. His new riding goggles were askew, and he had to duck his head to keep his face from going numb. There was a saddle now, at least—and unlike the blanket, it had straps for his legs. That way, he could be securely attached to Glacier while he dropped headfirst towards the demon crocodiles invading Mistral.

"What are we doing?!"

Too late to stop, now. And Winter and Weiss had both told him not to touch the reins. Though, now that Whitley thought about it... why would dragon saddles even have reins if they weren't supposed to do something? What if they had to make a sharp turn?!

A horrible bellow from right below them, as one of the Grimm crashed through a shop front. It thrashed and hissed, lunging erratically at anything around it that moved, as if it had been blinded. Ragnar, who was just ahead of them, landed on the monster with a thud that shook the ground.

Glacier tried to follow his example, but this time it was ready. The instant he hit the ground, its head snapped around, snake-like, and its jaws clamped down on his hind leg. He howled and thrashed, but it wouldn't let go. His claws raked across its back, tearing furrows in its bone armor, but not reaching anything vital.

Ragnar roared something, and Glacier started to steam. Condensation beaded and froze on his scales. Whitley hunched in on himself as the cold sank into his bones and, one by one, the Grimm's teeth started to crack. Finally it drew back.

Glacier pounced, slamming a paw down on its jaw to hold it shut. Ragnar grabbed its tail in his forepaws. They held it there for a moment, as a strange whistling sound grew louder and louder. Then something struck the monster's back and detonated with a crack of thunder, blasting apart several bone plates and leaving an opening on its back. Ragnar lunged, and the Grimm went limp.

The Council dragon that had dropped the bomb was already shrinking back into a speck. With the Grimm gone, the street was eerily quiet. Glacier sat on his haunches and snapped at the dark flakes rising around them.

"Glacier," Whitley sighed, "please don't eat the Grimm smoke."

Oscar burst out laughing. Whitley glared at him, his arms folded. It was not funny. Even if it was easily the most absurd thing he'd ever said, and even if the fact that they were here in the first place was ridiculous. It still wasn't funny, and he did not crack a smile.

A startled yip drew both dragons' attention. Several blocks away, Specter had gotten into a wrestling match with one of the Lancers. Glacier scrabbled to his feet and took off, bellowing a challenge.

Whitley groaned and wrapped his arms around his stomach. All this mortal danger was making him nauseous.

Glynda strode through the smoke and chaos in Mistral's streets with a bag of medical supplies slung over her shoulder, following her ears to the wounded.

A dragon shrieked somewhere to her left. She jogged towards the sound, careful to keep an eye out for the Grimm. It was still a struggle to remember the danger they posed—she was used to thinking of Lancers as mild annoyances at worst, even in a swarm, but even one would be more than she could handle right now. And the River Dragons... well, those were a problem by anyone's standards.

But when she found the source of the noise, there wasn't a Grimm in sight. Instead she found a Council rider with a whip in his hand, and three dragons. One lay pinned under the other two. Glynda's eyes narrowed. The dark scales... that was Tar. Wearing a saddle, too, though there was no sign of a rider.

"What is going on here?" she snapped. Both free dragons snapped to attention—one was a vageuly familiar fire dragon that blinked at her with only one eye. The other she assumed was partnered with the Council rider.

"Trying to get a shot," the rider grumbled. "Whirlwind, move."

"Absolutely not." Glynda glanced towards the riderless dragon. He had something to do with Tai... ah, yes. "York, was it?"

He snorted and tossed his head in surprise.

"Well done." She rounded on the rider and held out her hand. "Your whip."

"What?"

"I thought it might be prudent to muzzle her."

"Oh." He held it out. "Wait. Fuck. I didn't agree to let you—"

She slapped the gun out of line when he tried to point it at Tar. "Make yourself useful and go shoot some of the Grimm."

He looked down at the weapon, then back at Tar. Glynda wound the whip around her muzzle, and York helped her pull it shut. That shouldn't have worked. None of this should have worked—her struggles were weak and sluggish despite the device.

"There's something wrong with that thing. Looks half-dead, but it almost gutted itself trying to get away from them. Fucker scratched me, too." He held out his arm. His sleeve was red to the elbow.

"Desperation is a funny thing," Glynda said tersely.

"You're taking them." He jabbed a finger at her. "You're taking them so you can set them on us again later."

Glynda rolled her eyes skyward. "The city is overrun by Grimm. Prioritize." She smiled sweetly. "Unless you want to fight us, too?"

He eyed York nervously and lowered his rifle.

"Whirlwind, would you help us escort this dragon to the west? There's a carrier there that should be able to hold her." The wind dragon glanced at her rider, who groaned and nodded.

"There was someone else," he said, when they arrived at the carrier. "Just so you know."

"I noticed the saddle."

He flushed. "She got away before I could get a good look, but I'm pretty sure she had a dragon. Not this one—a little one."

Glynda dug a roll of bandages out of her bag and wrapped up his arm while York and Whirlwind wrestled Tar into the back of the ship. She fought doggedly every step of the way, right up until one of the stall doors closed behind her and Glynda shoved a rake into the door to keep it shut. Shoddy, maybe, but it seemed to work well enough when Tar was this weak.

"Shoot the Grimm," she reminded the rider, when he and Whirlwind left. He didn't reply.

It was because she was watching the sky that she saw it—a flash of movement off to the west, heading away from her. A glint of light by the dragon's head as it swerved around a Lancer. One of the pit dragons... but where was it going? There was no wall that way, only the harbor.

No bombs had dropped there. The steel grate that blocked off the sea was almost as thick as the main walls, and regularly treated with Dust to keep it from weathering. A necessity when storms sometimes washed deep-sea Grimm out into the shallows. A few bombs wouldn't make any noticeable dent in it. Unless they knew where to find the gate to let out ships—and, more importantly, where the locking mechanism was. Then they might be able to get it open, but could they lock it open? She didn't think so... but that didn't mean it was impossible.

A bark behind her startled her so much she dropped the bag of supplies. York was staring at her, his head cocked to one side in concern.

"They're going after the harbor gate," she blurted.

He pondered that for a moment, then crouched down.

"Are you sure?"

Another bark.

Glynda dropped the bag—with no saddle, she didn't want to risk its weight pulling her off-balance. Then she slid into place behind York and pointed after the pit dragon. "That way."

He hesitated, and craned his neck to look over his shoulder. When he started to bark, she twisted around and found Quake, Salty, and Tempest winging towards them.

"Excellent," she said, giving him a pat. "Reinforcements."

Pit dug his claws into the side of a building, resting his head on its roof and panting with his tongue hanging out. Specter landed beside him to lick at a scratch on his hind leg, while Fang and Storm sat two stories below them in the street.

"Sorry," he managed, between breaths.

Specter nudged him with his nose. "It's okay. We needed a break, too."

"There's so many of them..." Pit's ears drooped as he stared up at the sky. There were more of the Grimm Blake had called Lancers—so many that it felt like every time he killed one, there were two more shooting their stupid stingers at him. One of them was still stuck in his side. Blake had told him not to take it out, because they were barbed and he would hurt himself worse. He hadn't known anything could be this annoying.

Specter looked up, too. Then he went stiff, his wings partly unfurled, his tail curling around his legs. "That dragon!"

"What dragon?" Fang put his paws up on the building and stood, stretching his neck towards them. "I can't see!"

Pit's eyes narrowed, and he scrabbled the rest of the way up onto the roof so that he could get a better look. It was hard to see the other dragon very well, but there was something about the way it flew...

It was headed their way. And the closer it got, the more sure he was. "It's her, isn't it? Strike."

Fang snarled and hurled himself at the wall, clambering just high enough to poke his head up over the edge of the roof. "Yeah," he agreed.

"What are we gonna do?" Specter blurted, his tail lashing anxiously. "If she's here then that means Cinder is, too!"

Fang bared his teeth. "Good," he growled.