Entrapment

She stared in horror and shock as the four kin let the carrying-things and mouth-controlling things be put on their backs and heads. The kin did not fight back, flame, pounce, or roar with defiance. Their thoughts were filled with only a simple need to obey Alpha and make Alpha pleased with them.

It was so wrong that these kin allowed two-legs to sit on their backs and give them commands. That must be what the false-vines going from the two-legs to the kin's mouths were for.

The kin flew out over the water, around the rock-spires, and back over land, where they flamed at boulders. Why would kin flame at rocks? No, why would the two-legs have them flame at rocks? The kin would not do that unless they were obeying commands.

She held in the growl as it became clear that the two-legs were using the kin as wings and fire. That is what kin were to two-legs: things to use for flight and flame.

All these kin were weak-thinking. Why? What had made their life-fires so dim and weak? Two-legs were responsible for certain, but how? How could two-legs rot a kin's thinking?

The traps. They keep kin in the traps until kin need the two-legs to give food!

It had lift. By trapping the kin, the two-legs forced the kin to need them and look to them for food and the freedom to be out of the traps.

All the other kin were free to walk around without their wings being tied up with false-vines. Why did they stay? The kin could just fly away or turn on the two-legs, so why did they not?

The answer felt very close, as though she could bite it from the air with one snap.

There was no single, dominant kin she could see that looked like an Alpha, so what were the kin thinking of being obedient to? The stinging-tail hunter-kin was nowhere nearby to give orders or threaten them into obedience.

The flight of four kin returned and landed, waiting calmly and submissively while the four two-legs got off their backs. A couple of the two-legs started grooming the kin's hides and scales. One of the two-legs went to Cunning, and they briefly spoke. She did not give much attention to them.

The thoughts in the kin were far more twisted. All four of them were pleased at a flight well-flown, and were glad that their Alpha was happy with them. But, seeing all four of the kin gathered here with the two-legs was different from the vaguer memories known in the trap. Each of their purrs or growls of pleasure was directed at the two-legs that had been flying on their backs. It was as though the kin were pleased that they had obeyed their-

She froze and slowly inhaled.

Oldest-Knower's lessons echoed in memory. Think only of duty to the pack. Hide from emotion. Feel nothing. Know motivation.

The fire and anger that wanted out was forced deep inside, buried under the surface of thought. Jumping, snapping, and flaming would not help, so she would not act as she wanted.

She slowly exhaled.

Each of the kin thought of the two-leg they carried as being their Alpha.

The two-legs on the kin were underlings of Cunning and Loud, who then controlled the kin through their two-leg underlings. The two-legs brought food and water to the kin when in the traps so the kin would come to think of the two-leg as the Alpha and provider. That trust from the kin let them be used by the two-legs. It was a very clever trap and trick. None of the kin could even think freely on their own. Compliance and obedience was all they knew.

The two-legs began leading her away from the other kin, back to the tree-den which had the traps. Finally back in her trap, the two-legs took off the false-vines from her wings and jaws. She immediately curled up and waited for the two-legs to leave.

Only then, alone in the tree-den, did the whine of chill come out after many dark-light cycles of growing inside.

Why had she not trusted her liver? It warned her that the two-legs were extremely dangerous, but she had been curious about them. She had wanted to know the truth of what two-legs were.

What could she do about them?

The two-legs did not have much for false-claws. The two-leg Fighters who moved her or the other kin in and out of the traps did have long false-claws, but the others did not. Two-legs had very small and weak bodies, lacking claws, scales, and big teeth. Maybe the two-legs did not think it possible for the kin to fight anymore. They certainly trusted that the kin would not fly away under their own will.

But if all the kin were to fight at once, were to turn on the two-legs and fight for freedom together, the fight would likely be over very quickly. The kin only needed someone to spark their life-fires hotter and give them a reason to act. They needed someone to lead them and help them fight for themselves! They needed an Alpha, a real Alpha which was not a small, weak, worthless two-leg controlling their flight and thoughts!

These kin had no one else who could be there for them.

She growled in pleasure while considering what to do next. The kin which were brought into the other traps in here were different kin every dark-light cycle, which was fortunate as it would let her speak with more kin over time. One at a time, she would speak to the kin, convince them that she was their new Alpha, show her strength, and-

And they could pretend to be obedient. They would keep carrying the two-legs and doing whatever the two-legs had them do. The two-legs would not know anything had changed.

She stayed awake into the dark part of the cycle. There were no two-legs in the very big tree-den. Their absence gave her the time she needed.

She got to her paws and faced the fire-scale in the trap next to hers. A gentle prod against its life-fire woke it up.

'Fire-scale! Wake!'

It yawned widely and faced her, its eyes very dimly shining in the little light.

'Why do you have a two-leg Alpha? Bad! Wrong!'

'Obey Alpha... Alpha approve make...'

She snarled, 'You need a strong Alpha. Yes, right, good?'

'Alpha have. Need approve. Obey Alpha.'

She stretched wide her wings. The burning need to protect flared to life in her liver as it had before in meetings with monsters. Her wings glowed from within with white light which made the whole inside of the tree-den brighter.

'You have a new Alpha. Me!'

The fire-scale stared at her in shock as its eyes glowed with reflected light.

'You Alpha what? Confusion two-leg Alpha yes no confusion...'

'Alpha me! You are strong, not weak! You obey a two-leg. Bad. Why why why?'

The fire-scale looked away from her, as if in pain or... disturbed. It was not comfortable at all. Good! Comfort made for weakness!

It whined, 'Make Alpha approve... no?'

'Two-legs are not Alphas! I am Alpha!'

It looked back at her, 'Alpha in trap? Weak yes maybe confusion...'

The fire-scale thought she was not an Alpha because she was also in a trap. That was fair and wrong of it. Yes, she was trapped for now, but what was more important was that her life-fire was not dim and weak. Her liver had not gone cold. Its liver had gone cold, and it had forgotten what it was to be a kin.

Into its liver flew thoughts of the open sky and the clouds, the warming sky-light-rock, fish jumping out of the waters, and light-rocks in deep caves... all with no two-legs.

'Good, yes? You want! Free!'

'Free?'

'Free!'

The fire-scale rumbled and snorted flame. In its liver another fire began burning brighter! The dim, flickering flame that had been there was now stronger and more willful and wondering.

Stronger, questioning, and defiant kin were much more than those that were not!

'Free? Fight now?' it rumbled.

'No. Fight no. Pretend the two-leg is still Alpha. Pretend to obey.'

It huffed, 'Want fight, kill, flame, bite. Fight when?'

'When all kin are one flight! We will fight the two-legs. Slow hunt.'

'Understand. Slow hunt. Obey Alpha.'

The fire-scale bent its head toward her in a respect-sign. Then it curled up and went back to sleep. She felt its understanding of the plan: pretend to be obedient to the two-legs, and wait until the time to strike.

She blinked and saw the rock-belly and a spine-tail, the only other kin in the traps at the moment, staring at her in shock. They were just like the fire-scale had been: weak, submissive, and compliant. But, just like the fire-scale and despite the thought-twisting the two-legs must have done to them, a spark still burned in their livers. They would be free in thought soon, ready to join the fight against the two-leg monsters when the time was right.

The two-legs must have forgotten to bring the fish and water this dark-light cycle. The other kin got water and fish, but the two-legs brought nothing for her. That was a change from the regular routine, and she doubted it was a mistake. They had never failed to keep to the routine when on the floating-tree-den.

They had brought her out into the clearing again to see a flight of thrall-kin carrying the two-legs. Why they took her out there was obvious. They wanted her to see the other kin carrying the two-legs and come to think of that as normal. This was probably because they wanted her to eventually carry a two-leg.

No. That was a line not to cross. Letting a two-leg foul her back with its waste-end was wrong. There was no reason to compromise or make such a wrong sacrifice.

By her count and from what she had seen from the other kin's memories, there were just over four tens of kin. Five of them now secretly looked to her as their Alpha, though they knew to pretend to be obedient to the two-legs.

One paw at a time.

Did they want her to die?

Why else would they have given no food and almost no water for several dark-light cycles?

There had to be a reason.

Her head hurt, but not too much to drive out memories, both her own and those from the kin. This not giving of food and water was just a test. This was like the long swim in the water and up into this above. Just a test of will and wanting.

The fire-scale in the trap next to hers saved one of its fish and tossed the fish to her after the two-legs had gone.

That it did so was very good and reassuring. Working as one flight to endure was far better than trying to do this entirely alone.

Viggo wanted to be there to see the Spine Fury's reaction. Five days of no food and only minimal water was as far as the training plan allowed. Any further than five days risked death or permanent damage. This was the perfect time to begin the next phase.

If only his brother could manage to not screw this up, which was doubtful.

He slapped Ryker's shoulder, "All you. Good luck."

He dodged Ryker's elbow to the gut, and watched from outside the cell as Ryker and the handlers moved in. They quickly immobilized the Spine Fury, though it didn't do much to resist.

Ryker waved around a large fish, getting the Spine Fury's attention. Its jaw hung open slightly, and it deftly snapped the fish from the air after he tossed it the fish. Ryker brought in a couple large buckets of water which the dragon quickly drank. Meanwhile, Ryker removed most of the bindings which the other handlers had bound the dragon with.

This had been very successful. The Spine Fury now knew to associate Ryker with food and relief.

Ryker and the handlers came back outside, locked the door, and looked pleased with themselves.

"Well done, boss!" "Yer a real professional!" "Fine wrangling!" "Good job."

Ryker punched the nearest man, doubling him over, "Stuff it! I need to duel something! Let's go!"

"Hells yea!" "Yessir!" "On it!" "Lezgo!"

Ryker left with everyone else following him. So typical of him to only be interested in the violent and aggressive, which this Spine Fury was not.

Viggo remained behind, leaning against the empty cages on the other side of the stables building. He considered the calm Spine Fury already curled up in its cage, apparently asleep. It was docile as always.

He frowned when he saw the other three dragons: a Nadder, a Gronkle, and a Rumblehorn. They were all staring or glaring his direction.

That was a curious behavior. He couldn't recall these assets acting up recently. Dragons did not care for other kinds. That was another matter to consider later.

He left the stables and went to the nearest guards. There was always a pair of men on patrol on the perimeter.

"Sirr!" "Sir!"

They were both drunk on duty. Unacceptable, and their supervisor would hear of this.

"Have you seen anything strange around the stables?" he asked.

"Sstrrange?" "Whuzzat?"

"Anything out of the ordinary... that you can recall?"

The men scratched their beards, which were ragged and probably flea-infested. But they were guards, so not much could be expected of them.

"I... uh, Ulfgarr said something bout seeing a disappearin' light in there a few nights back."

A light? Disappearing? Unlikely. Ulfgarr was probably drunk too.

"Thank you for telling me. I'll be sure to mention your diligence to your supervisor. Dismissed."

Both men saluted and swayed slightly.

He left them and idly paced throughout the village. Walking was an excellent way to let his thoughts wander and connect disparate information. The chill wind began picking up as evening drew nearer.

He was probably just being paranoid and too observant. It was a known fault of his. He tried to see connections and patterns even when they were not truly there. His time was better spent planning for the future and arranging the alliances that would form after the reset of power in the region.

She blinked the sleep from her eyes when she saw the two-legs outside the trap. There was something very different about many of these two-legs. Yes, there were Fighters among them, but there were also young two-legs.

Young two-legs were so small and weak compared to their sires and dams, which were also small and weak. They kept pointing at her with their little paws and squealing or grumbling.

It took many wingbeats, but the Fighter two-legs pushed the young along to see the kin in other traps. The young did more of the same: pointing at the kin and squealing.

What were the young two-legs thinking? Were they curious about kin? Could they have warm livers?

That was twisted thought. Grown two-legs were just what young two-legs grew into. No, young two-legs were no different from their sires and dams. The young two-legs were eager to see what kin they would eventually claim as their own to fly on as things to use.

Did that make these fledgling or hatchling two-legs monsters like the grown two-legs were? Even if fledgling two-legs were not like monsters as their parents were, did that mean they could care for or be kind toward kin? On the other paw, none of the young saw anything bad about kin being in traps.

The closest comparison she could think of was the hatchling stinging-tail hunter-kin now in Ice-Water-Pack. They were hatched to be kin-hunters, but did that mean they must be kin-hunters? It was an unanswered question for now.

There were only about two tens more kin to meet with and convince to obey her as their new Alpha, thus freeing them from the two-legs. A small problem was that the two-legs had not brought her to see new kin in the last pawful of dark-light cycles. It might take many dark-light cycles before she was brought to the other kin. Meeting the same kin that already listened to her did not help.

Where were the other kin? Wherever they were, she would wait, find them, free their thinking, and, when enough of them answered to her, they would break free. Any two-legs that tried to stop them or fought would die. After the liver-warming fighting, they could... that part was unclear. Food would force the kin from this island for sure.

That brought up an amusing thought. Some of the two-legs were bigger than others and had more meat on them. Did it truly matter that two-legs were strong-thinking? Was that a reason to not make them prey?

No, that they were strong-thinking was not a reason to not kill and eat. Several of the two-legs she had seen had kin-bones hanging on small false-vines. There was even a kin-skull hanging from one of their tree-dens in the nest. The two-legs were willing to use the bodies of kin when alive and dead. They likely ate kin-meat too.

On the other paw, freedom alone was the primary goal. If she could just get all these kin to freedom, out of this two-leg trap, that was enough of a goal. But if the kin wanted to kill all the two-legs on the island, just for the wrong of being two-legs and thrall-makers, then she did not feel like objecting at all. Kin would be kin and do whatever they wanted.

She yawned and noticed the approaching group of two-legs. This was similar to what they had done before: depriving her of food and water, and then having Loud bring her food and water. They were likely trying to make her think of the Loud as her Alpha and provider.

Let them think that could work. The longer they trusted that she was weak and compliant... the better!

She remained still as they opened the trap and came inside. They did not even bother holding her down this time. Good. They walked right into her trap.

That was an amusing thought, though she did not laugh or chuckle. She was the one trapping them, though they did not know it!

Loud pointed down at the ground, so she lay down as it wished. There were no other kin in the other traps, which was a relief since they could not see her pretending to obey. An Alpha should not show weakness or make those she was responsible for doubt her.

Pleased with her obedience, the two-legs brought fish and water. But something else happened. They threw something made of hides over her back. It was a sitting-on thing! They wanted to put on of those on her like they did with the other kin that carried two-legs!

Never!

She grumbled and shook off the sitting-on thing.

The two-legs were not happy about that. They started growling at each other and pointing at her. Loud silenced them with a gesture of its paw, and then gave a command. They took away the sitting-on thing and the water holding-thing, and left her alone. Fortunately, she got most of the water first.

Loud remained outside the trap, growling at her and very displeased. Let it be unhappy with her, even if that meant a little more suffering herself. Suffering only made her stronger.

Giving away her back to a two-leg was too much. Allowing Loud to foul her back, to truly submit to it and take it into the sky, was unacceptable. Compromise felt like a defeat.

Viggo was busy drafting a letter to the warlords with instructions for where everyone was to meet up. The plan was to have them meet at a neutral location and go through a brief set of tests and oaths, all to make them comfortable. Oaths publicly sworn on the balls of their gods would never be broken.

Not by those who believed in the gods, anyway.

The door swung open, and Ryker stormed in. He went straight to the cabinet of liquor and began chugging some very potent, clear drink.

"Bad hair day?"

Ryker rudely gestured at him before collapsing in a chair, "Shite."

He calmly put away the feather pen, kicked the chair back, and propped up his boots on the table, "What's so bad about it?"

"The blasted dragon!"

"What about it?"

"The regular treatment isn't working on it."

"More details."

Ryker took a long swig before grumbling, "Three weeks with limited food and water. It isn't violent or anything, but it refuses the saddle. We tried everything. Saddling other dragons while it watches, having a woman try to saddle it, even trying to saddle it while it's asleep. Nothing works."

That behavior from the dragon was curious. Most stubborn dragons, when presented with the saddle, would be violent at first but would become calm after building up some trust with the handler. None of that was apparently happening in this case.

This was probably Ryker's fault, since he had a known issue with yelling and shouting. His attitude toward dragon training appeared to devolve into shouting at the dragon to make it obey, and then using violence if still necessary.

"Are you sure it has been properly socialized?" he asked.

"Sure. It's even got other dragons looking out for it."

That was news he hadn't heard about yet. He had been more concerned with managing affairs related to the organization and the alliances.

"What?"

Ryker took another long drink, "Yeah, heard from Ungi or Urgi, whoever, that one of the dragons tossed it a few fish when it thought no one was looking."

Dragons, Furies being the exception, could not talk to each other. But this Spine Fury was almost a Fury, and he had his suspicions that it might be smarter than a common dragon. It could not be very smart, else it would not have been caught.

"Interesting. A dragon shared fish? They don't share food."

"Nah, but that one did. Probably why the training didn't work. Spikey wasn't as hungry as we thought."

Sometimes the leaps of imagination his brother was capable of were incomprehensible and wrong. There were other times when Ryker impressed him with logical, reasoned conclusions; this was one of those times.

"Good point. How about take her to zone one instead?"

"Think that's all the good it's for?"

"No, not breeding. We don't have anything to cross with her anyway."

"Who said anything about crossing? Some of the bulls might want to have some fun."

Those privileges were a type of reward that had worked in the past. But that was always within the same species. There was no natural interest between a Nadder and a Nightmare, for example. At least, nothing had happened as far as he was aware of from the few times such crosses were attempted.

"Just give her solitary where none of the others can feed her. If that still doesn't work, I've got one more plan."

"The venom?"

"Yes. Shouldn't be hard to calibrate an appropriate dosage. I'll start on that just in case and get it to you."

Ryker got up and swayed slightly, still holding the half-empty bottle, "Alright, I'll get on moving it up there."

He got up and took back the bottle while frowning at Ryker. Drinking to build up tolerance and endurance was understandable and even necessary, given the future need to interact with Chiefs and warlords. Drinking to escape frustration was pointless and just made the drinker dependent on the drink. That was the same as to be weaker overall, since the need for drink as comfort was a vulnerability.

"You drink too much."

Ryker rolled his eyes, "Eh, I'm not even seeing triple yet!"

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm seeing double looking at you, but I do wonder if Spikey can even carry you."

"What!"

"You've gone soft... er."

Ryker lunged at him, grabbed him in a headlock, and pulled him onto the floor. So he tickled Ryker's belly, which never failed to help him escape such tussles.

"Gods, I never learn, huh?" Ryker grumbled.

"No, you don't. Go on."

"Yeah... I... I should."

Ryker stumbled out of the room, which let him return to the letter. His plan was foolproof. They needed a way to kill all three warlords, ideally at once. Fortunately, he had a way to do just that, though it would not be pleasant at all.

There would be a feast to welcome the three warlords on Falke Island. Everyone on the island would be disarmed, as was the normal for peace-talks. Together, he and the three warlords would all drink the same liquor to open the negotiations. He would drink first, as he was to be the host.

Deathgripper venom, in low doses, caused extreme suggestibility, compliance, and desire to please any source of authority. Higher doses were fatal without having built up some resistant and taking other precautions. Only he would have already ingested charcoal before the feast and have built up the necessary tolerance to the venom the liquor would be poisoned with. Meanwhile, the dragon squadrons would eliminate any personal guards the warlords brought with them on the ships. The warlords' vessels and assets would be added to the fleet.

But there were still several weeks before that meeting, and there were fine details still to figure out.

She warily looked around, seeing as much as possible as the two-legs led her somewhere new: toward the mountain. This was a change from the routine, so she was alert. Why were they taking her there?

Loud was not happy and kept growling while pointing at her or swaying from side to side. That was a very twisted display, whatever it was for.

A cave came into view ahead, and they led her into it. Just being back in a cave and under the ground was comforting, though it changed nothing about being trapped.

The cave opened into a wide chamber with smaller caves, all of which had strong bars blocking the paths. There were a pawful of two-legs standing guard, but what was more important was the scents in the air.

There were other kin here, mostly females. There was no more time to wonder about that before the two-legs pushed her into one of the open caves. They left after closing the trap-mouth.

The cave did not go back very far, as she quickly found out. The cave itself was a trap. But there was something else in the cave: a pile of sticks, branches, and long-dead grass. The pile was almost like a nest.

She blinked and gently nudged the nest with a paw.

There had been a dam in this trap. Probably a spine-tail from the scent.

Did this mean there were hatchlings? Were the two-legs rotting the life-fires of even hatchlings and fledglings? The young were much easier to twist and rot than were adults who knew what two-legs were.

She spun away from the empty nest and trotted to the trap-mouth. Outside she could see several of the other trap-caves and the female kin inside, most of which were sleeping. There were two-legs still on guard here, so she could not display her power-light to the other kin without also showing that to the two-legs. The two-legs would have to ask themselves what was happening.

No, she could not show any true strength. Even refusing the carrying-thing was a risk, since doing that made Loud angry with her. Was that why they brought her up here away from many kin, or at least where there were no other traps immediately beside hers? Probably.

She lay down and covered her head with her tailfins. The entire cave was much darker than the big tree-den from before. The two-legs had a fire burning for warmth in the middle of the chamber, and that fire was the only source of light.

If she was going to be in this trap from now on, she should at least learn how the routine had changed. Further, the nearly ten kin she could feel around her were probably all ones which she had not met or thought-spoken with. Her flickering shadow on the wall behind her was the only company in her trap-cave.

But she purred with pleasure. Being brought up here only brought her closer to the other kin. This was working out very well.

The other kin had slightly different life-fires, and there was just enough difference to know, from their life-fires and small flashes of memory, what the female kin were. Three fire-scales, two spine-tails, two rock-bellies, and one club-tail. There were also three young fledglings: two fire-scales and a spine-tail, all with their dams.

More surprising and liver-chilling was that the dams which most recently dropped eggs had intentionally let them go cold or had crushed them. Fear, wrongness, and defiance had been burning in those memories. The dams had known that two-legs could not be allowed to have more kin, so they did whatever was necessary to stop the two-legs from getting more kin. There was no hope for the future, since none of the kin thought much of the world outside of the traps anymore.

Those memories of the open sky and the long waters had faded from memory. This was true except for one of the dams, which was a tail-twisting problem.

One of the fire-scales had bad-wrong memories. It remembered a big land and a two-leg nest on the land. There were also kin in that nest. The fire-scale remembered two-leg paws on her nose and a two-leg on her back. But there was no hate, anger, or great need to obey her Alpha in those memories. The two-leg was not a dominant Alpha.

She grumbled, her tail tapping on the ground as she considered those memories. What the fire-scale remembered, a shared-nest of two-legs and kin, was impossible. This was twisted thought from the fire-scale, but the truth might even be worse than that. Could two-legs give kin false memories? Could two-legs trick kin into false-bonding? That was the only explanation that had any lift.

What kind of monster would twist and rot the thoughts of others just to get its way?

Thought-speaking with them individually would take time, but it would happen. They would all listen to her liver-warming words and would see shared thought-pictures. Only the thought-rotted one might not want to listen, but even it would want to follow its kin and join the fighting.

All she needed was an opportunity to show off her power-light when the two-legs were away. That would convince all of them to bend their wings to her as their new Alpha. There would certainly be an opportunity.

Loud kept coming to the cave-trap every dark-light cycle. She could barely see the light from outside the mouth that led into the bigger cave.

Loud dropped two fish, a holding-thing filled with water, and the sitting-on furs on the ground outside the trap. He would stare at her in defiance, even showing his tiny, harmless teeth. Then he went away without giving her the fish or water. One of the guards would walk over there later and would take the fish to throw to another kin in a different trap-cave.

This was more of the same testing of her will. Show weakness, drool for the fish, or whine in pleading and she would probably get the fish and water. But the sitting-on furs would follow. That was a clear trade.

Let them test her. Suffering was only a way to grow stronger!

She woke up, yelped, and jumped to her paws in surprise. Two-legs were in the cave-trap and were poking her with sticks, but not hard enough to hurt or break hide. Then they left the cave-trap and walked away without bothering any of the other kin.

What was wrong with these two-legs? It was as if they just wanted to wake her up.

She growled freely and clawed at the rock underpaw.

The two-legs just woke her up only to stop her from sleeping. This was just another type of testing how strong her will was.

Let them try.