A/N: I know what you're all thinking: this was a faster update. And you're completely right! Yay! But...yeah...don't count too much on the rest being this quick.

This is also another long one (the second longest so far), so I'll get right to it with my reminder to favorite/follow and leave a review. Enjoy chapter 17!

Ch. 17: Confrontation

The festival outside the palace courtyard was truly a sight to behold. Star shaped lanterns gleamed on elaborate marble columns, blown glass statutes as large as dragons stood on prominent pedestals high above, glittering in the starlight, and hundreds of dragons wearing glimmering silver jewelry laughed and talked and ate and drank the night away as though it were to be the last celebration of their lives. In the city itself as well as the palace proper the party went on and on, a full tribe extravaganza honoring the queen.

Vigilance truly had pulled out all the stops for her Glass Jubilee.

Even where Darkstalker sat, in a rather modest pavilion (in comparison to the rest of the scene) meant for idle games, the fancifulness of the night shown through. Long white curtains with silver embroideries draped around the area, smaller glass statuettes adorned each table, and even the very outline of the pavilion had been adjusted to make a rough star shape when viewed from above.

Yes, even Darkstalker had to admit that the current queen knew how to throw a party. He just wished that Clearsight would hurry up and get here so they could actually start to enjoy it.

She'd told him that she'd be a little late, as she was meeting up with her friend Listener before coming, but he had no idea how long that would be. So for now, he and the rest of their little party were waiting in the large game pavilion where she said they'd meet them. And, just to pass the time, they found themselves playing a board game. A board game, in the middle of what would probably be the most elaborate party that year.

They'd chosen scales-and-squares, mainly because it was the one game that Fathom and Indigo were familiar with. Well, and because Whiteout had insisted. His little sister had joined them for now, although she said something about going off and doing something with Arctic later. Their father himself was around here somewhere, probably out enjoying the party like they should be doing, and Darkstalker actually wished a little bit that he could join him.

Just that little thought was a testament to how far Arctic had come; ever since Foeslayer had been saved he'd been so much less hostile to him and his sister, no longer lashing out hardly at all. He was more subdued, smiled just a little more, and visibly bit back comments about the Icewing tribe's superiority that Darkstalker knew for a fact that he'd say before. It was surprising—Darkstalker had expected his father to revert back to how he'd been before over time, but he hadn't—but also pleasant. Perhaps Darkstalker would spend a little time with him tonight himself, maybe that would be a good thing to do…

His thoughts were pulled away from his father and back to the game at claw as he watched Whiteout mercilessly jump three of his tokens, removing them from the board. "Watch your thought, brother," she told him, a little bit more smugly than she usually talked, "An hourglass empties fastest when no eyes see it's rain."

He tried to ignore her as he took his own turn, taking one of Fathom's pieces in a no-brainer move as he attempted to remember and revamp his strategy. As usual, Whiteout was winning. In fact, she'd already won the previous two games almost effortlessly. At least this one it looked like he might have stood a chance…or at least it did until her last turn nearly ruined him.

"Perhaps, Whiteout," Indigo said from next to him as she took her turn, pulling a piece back in a conservative move, "But an hourglass can always be flipped and made even again." She ruffled her wings a little, lowering her neck and head and focusing her eyes as though preparing for an intense attack on the game board itself.

Darkstalker smirked as he saw Whiteout narrow her eyes at the challenge. So far it was actually Indigo who'd given her the most trouble, lasting the majority of the first game and actually coming sort of close to winning (or at least as close as one could hope against Whiteout). He had a feeling that if she put a little more time in and got lucky, she might actually be able to beat his sister. Maybe he'd take a game and sacrifice his own chances of winning to attack Whiteout and help her; after all, by now Whiteout losing was kind of like everyone else winning.

He found himself a bit distracted again as he glanced over at the Seawing dragoness. Her dark purple scales shone in the flickering lights provided by the large bonfire in the pavilion's center. She wore a long string of pearls twined twice around her neck that he'd never seen on her before that complemented those brilliant scales. It even looked as though she'd taken some polish to her horns and maybe even talons.

To put it most simply, he thought to himself as he looked her over, Indigo looked beautiful tonight.

"Your turn, Darkstalker," he heard Fathom say, and he once again had to pull himself out of his thoughts and focus on the game. This time he tried to keep them there, yet as soon as he'd move a piece his mind was away again.

I shouldn't be having these thoughts, were his thoughts this time, even if she is. It felt…well…it did feel right, but also wrong. She was a good dragon, a friend, someone that the future had showed him could be something more. Yet there were other factors to consider. Like Clearsight. He had a future with her. He had a wonderful future with Clearsight. An amazing one, truly brilliant. Outstanding, even.

Why does it sound so hard like I'm trying to convince myself of that? he wondered. He never had before. Of course, he'd never had any actual reason to doubt it before. But that was besides the point. The futures were still there; the most likely paths always had him with Clearsight. It was practically destiny.

Then again, he thought with another glance at the Seawing dragoness, I've always believed I control my own destiny.

He shook his head as he took another turn, not paying close enough attention and putting his piece where Fathom would easily take it on his turn.

Fathom, his mind said, That's another thing! He'd always known that Fathom cared deeply about Indigo, seeing her as more than a bodyguard. There were reasons why he never acted on those feelings, most of all concern for the safety of his tribe, but Darkstalker also knew that in the majority of the futures, the same bright ones where he and Clearsight became a wonderful pair, Fathom and Indigo also found themselves happily together. Could Darkstalker really dare to take that away from his friend, especially when he had his own future so clearly spelled out in front of him?

He looked at her and saw her giving him a mischievous grin as she took his pieces, her beautiful purple eyes glimmering. He looked into them in that moment and didn't want to look away.

Yes, he thought, Yes, he did. Or at least he wanted to. He could if he so chose, he knew that for almost certain. Indigo's attitude towards him had been shifting for some time now and, if her thoughts were any indication, it seemed she would probably be receptive to him should he decide to pursue those futures. And more and more it was tempting to do just that.

It was definite intriguing, to say the absolute least. The early visions had piqued his curiosity and the more and more he looked at futures with himself and Indigo the more fascinated and interested he became. Now he was actively indulging himself in them, both in future seeing and in actual act. For the past few days he'd been spending hours at a time with her, talking and laughing and showing her the sights of the kingdom as he looked on at the sight that was her. And the more he did that, the more he wanted to do it again, and again. Maybe even for the rest of his life.

He took another turn in his board game and felt his heart sink a little, and not just because he was now on the verge of being the first one to lose. No, he yelled at himself, No, no, no! He had a love of his life. He had Clearsight. While it was fun to court those other visions and make believe at what could be with Indigo, he never truly meant for it to be any more than that. He'd had his future planned out for so long now, he just couldn't throw all that away, even if he wanted to.

The game concluded not long later with another victory for Whiteout as Darkstalker continued to brood in silence, trying not to make it obvious to the others that his thoughts were far from the game. They set up one more round and were only a few turns into it when he heard a familiar mind, followed by wingbeats, followed finally by the arrival of Clearsight and Listener.

Yes, he told himself as Clearsight landed near the table, She's who I want to spend my life with. Clearsight, not Indigo.

Yet even in his own head it sounded far too much like a lie.

"You look like you're winning," Clearsight told him as she sprawled herself on a nearby cushion, watching the game. Listener opted to remain standing, but kept casting glances towards someone or something beyond them.

"Yeah, I guess so," he told her a bit noncommittally. Indeed, he'd gotten his best start of the night this round despite his distracted brain, but he had a feeling that luck would run out soon. She gave a hum and snuggled into the cushion more, her tail wrapping around to lay on his.

He tensed up at the unexpected touch. For the first time ever since he'd first met Clearsight, or even seen her in any of his visions, it felt wrong. Foreign and wrong. He resisted a sudden urge to pull his tail away and left it there. Despite what that part of his mind said, it was what he wanted in the end.

"Perhaps you are in this turn of the hourglass," Whiteout said, going back to her odd metaphor from earlier, "But when I crush you with my heart piece, then everything flips."

"Um…do you even know what you're playing," Listener asked her, speaking up, "This game doesn't have a heart piece."

Darkstalker rolled his eyes at Clearsight's friend, and not particularly in a good way. She was an annoying one—dull, too—and he was a bit surprised at why Clearsight kept her as a friend. She had a distaste for him that was hard not to take a little personally, and even though she had mindreading powers her own mind was always too jumbled for her to even make much use of those. Like now, for instance, where all she could think about was the sad looking dragon across the pavilion playing a scroll stacking game by himself that she had a massive crush on despite not knowing hardly a single thing about him.

"Did you see the Sunrise Ferns?" Fathom asked Clearsight, ignoring Listener's comment, "Those are my favorite statutes, so far at least."

"I haven't had a chance to look around yet," she answered, "Maybe when you finish this game we can all go check them out."

"And get something to eat," Darkstalker suggested, "I wouldn't mind a couple goats right now." He leaned over and nudged Indigo with a wing, "There's a lot of good food tonight, and I'm sure you can try plenty of new dishes."

She raised an eye ridge but grinned, and he could see she was excited at the prospect. He'd have to see if the palace staff were serving anything garlicy tonight; he'd seen from her thoughts how much she'd liked it on her day off earlier in the week.

"We don't have to go anywhere yet, though," Listener said, poking Clearsight with her tail.

"Just go talk to him already," Clearsight whispered, even though by now it was obvious to pretty much everyone at the game table what Listener was doing, or at least was trying to do. She wasn't exactly being subtle with her gazes, and it didn't take a mind reader to figure out what she was wanting.

"He's already looked at us like, twice," Listener hissed back, "I'm sure he'll come over any minute now…"

"Aha," Fathom chortled excitedly, taking one of Whiteout's squares, "I have totally figured out your mystifying game now. I am the new scales-and-squares champion!"

Whiteout gave a tisk in response as she effortless took three of his pieces in one move and the Seawing instantly deflated. "I think your tide is bluer than you see," she told him, "It will have to grow more so before you take my crown."

"Ow!"

Darkstalker's attention was turned back to Clearsight as she gave a yelp of protest. Listener was digging her claws into her shoulder as she looked excitedly past them again.

"Act normal," she barked at Clearsight, "Not weird! Totally completely normal!"

She'd be hard pressed to do that herself, Darkstalker thought to himself humorously. The mindreading Nightwing's mind was flashing excitement like the fireworks display that was planned for the party.

"You mean like you are?" Clearsight asked her friend, no doubt echoing his own thoughts.

"Hey," said a new voice to the table as the Nightwing Listener had had her eyes on approached. Her tail whacked against Clearsight's about eighty times in rapid succession as her wings fluttered. She looked almost like the hounds that some of the dragons kept as pets.

"Hey," Darkstalker responded politely, intentionally saying something before Listener could blurt out any of the ten thousand thoughts in her head and on her tongue, "I know you from…music class? Right? From back when I was in it? You're Thoughtful, aren't you."

"Yeah," he said, lacking a bit in confidence. He looked at each of them and tapped a talon a little nervously, "I just, uh—I was wondering if anyone wanted to try a scroll tower challenge with me?"

"Maybe…" Listener answered coyly, excitement coursing through her mind at the prospect.

Intrigued, Darkstalker took a moment to examine a future or two of this dragon, just to see if it would work out or fail like all of the potential mates Clearsight told him about that Listener fantasized over. To his surprise, this one was actually feasible. The poor drake must be about as desperate as she was.

Then, even as he was looking at them, the futures vanished. One moment they were there, then the next they weren't. And he had no idea why until an instant later he heard Clearsight speaking.

"I'm Clearsight," she introduced herself to Thoughtful, "Our Seawing friends are Fathom and Indigo," she gave a nod to each and took a hesitant breath, "And have you, um…have you met Whiteout?"

Well, that's interesting, Darkstalker thought as he looked at her. Clearsight had someone in one move just erased her friend's future with this dragon. He wasn't sure how, but he was more curious as to why. From what he'd seen they would have had a good enough life together, not like some of the other males Listener had tried to court.

The best he could figure it, Clearsight had somehow seen a better future, either for Listener or for Thoughtful, and pushed them towards it. Perhaps Thoughtful was destined to have a great romance with some other dragoness, maybe one of adventure and excitement. Or maybe there was simply a greater love than that one. Maybe Clearsight had seen that there was a dragon that he could be so much more happy with, even if it was unlikely or hard to occur, and had chosen to give him a chance at that one instead of a life with Listener.

He felt his eyes flicker to the purple Seawing next to him. Would it be worth it to set aside goodness to pursue something greater? Would it be wrong to set aside what could be certain and easy for the uncertain and difficult but better? Apparently, Clearsight seemed to think so, and he wondered just how much she'd hold it against him if…

"Winner!" Whiteout shouted, nearly overturning the board as she shot up to all fours in celebration of yet another victory, "Empress of all scales and queen of all squares. Weep for your tokens, adversaries!" She shook her wings as she beamed, then paused as she finally noticed Thoughtful standing there.

"Oh," she said with wonder, "Look how shiny you are."

An alarm suddenly went off in Darkstalker's mind, one of danger but not the life-threatening kind. Not for him, though, but for his sister. He didn't quite like the way that Whiteout was suddenly looking at this dragon, nor how he suddenly looked at her. An urge to protect suddenly filled his body, the feeling of the older brother looking out for their sibling.

What did you do, Clearsight? he thought in horror, suddenly realizing what exactly might have happened to erase the futures where Thoughtful and Listener were together. Had Clearsight done away with them by instead directing the drake at his little sister!?

His thoughts were so focused on that, he didn't see the true danger coming. As he opened his mouth to say some protest, a rustling came from the edge of the pavilion. He looked to see a dragon tear through the curtains and vault into the pavilion.

He saw the spear.

He saw the deadly point aimed at him, coming closer.

He saw the murderous intent in the other dragon's eyes.

No, he thought in an instant of terror, I didn't put on my…

A flash of purple scales blocked his vision as they flew towards the attacker, knocking him off his feet. He heard Fathom, Whiteout, Clearsight, and Listener all yelling as the spear skidded across the floor and away from them all. There was a roar and the sound of thrashing as the attacker struggled to get free of the Seawing pinning him down, but when reinforcements in the form of Wharf and Lionfish arrived from the other ends of the pavilion where they'd been standing guard it was all over for him.

Darkstalker blinked. It had all happened so fast; he could hardly process it. One moment things were going fine as they played their game, the next moment a dragon had tried to kill him. The attacker probably would have succeeded, too, if not for Indigo.

"Ah, that felt good," she hissed as she stepped away from the assailant as the other two guards held him down. There was a bit of blood on her that wasn't hers. "It's nice to actually put that bodyguard training to use."

Darkstalker shook his head, coming back to himself as he regained his composure. "Thanks," he murmured, intent on giving her a more proper thank you later. For now his attention was focused on the large Nightwing that still lay thrashing on the ground, trying and failing to get out from under Wharf and Lionfish's grip. He approached him and the attacker ceased to struggle as their eyes met.

"Well?" Darkstalker growled, the question clear enough. This dragon had tried to kill him, and he was going to figure out why.

The other dragon shifted and was pushed back down by the Seawings. He spat and hissed. "I have nothing to say to you," he finally growled.

"Who are you?" Darkstalker demanded.

The Nightwing stayed silent but Clearsight stepped forward. "I think I know…" she told him, "This is Quickdeath, the assassin."

"How do you know that?" Indigo questioned.

Clearsight faltered a little, hesitating, "Queen Vigilance has employed him before…" she trailed off.

Darkstalker gave a puff of smoke out of his nostrils. "Interesting," he hissed, before turning his gaze back to the assassin, making no effort to hide the anger in his eyes. "Who hired you?"

Quickdeath remained silent.

"Answer me!" he yelled at the dragon, lashing his tail in anger. By all the moons, he was not about to take this!

Still the assassin refused to speak. A smirk crossed his muzzle as he saw Darkstalker's frustration.

A grin came upon his own muzzle as Darkstalker decided to change tactics. "Very well, if you will not speak, I will make you." He took a few steps forward towards the assassin, "…And if you know anything about the dragon you just tried to kill, then you know that I of all dragons am capable of doing just that."

Quickdeath's smirk quickly faded. "You wouldn't…"

"Now, I could just enchant you to answer my every question, but where's the fun in that," he purred, enjoying the look of fear now present in the assassin's eyes, "So here's what we'll do. You tell me who hired you right now, or things will become very…unpleasant for you."

Quickdeath gulped but still said nothing. He had to give the dragon credit for being a professional. Not that it would help him any.

"The hard way, then," Darkstalker told him, the smirk now on his face in full. He looped a claw in the air a few times. "Now, I enchant this dragon so that when I touch my claw to his snout, the scales on his back will feel as though he's rolled in the hottest flames, and that those on his belly will feel as though they were exposed to the harshest cold of the Ice Kingdom. Also, when I touch his snout, he will first pull out every one of his teeth, one at a time, followed by each talon. Then, starting at the tail, he will begin to pry off every single scale on his body until he is as bare as a plucked goose."

He heard thoughts of alarm going off in the minds of all the dragons around him save for Whiteout, who looked on in idle interest (well, and Clearsight, who of course had her bracelet on). Listener and Thoughtful were terrified and Wharf and Lionfish were sufficiently unnerved. Fathom, however, went into full blown panic mode as he heard what Darkstalker was saying.

No, no, no, no, no! He heard his Seawing friend's mind screaming. How could he do that? How could he enchant a dragon to do that? His soul! What has he done? Fathom's mind went on and on with horrific thoughts of world-ending scenarios.

Of the dragons witnessing his words, only Indigo's thoughts stood out. As the only one there except Clearsight that knew of his scroll, her alarmed thoughts suddenly turned away from horror and to amusement as she realized what he was doing. Clever, he heard her think, and his grin widened.

He turned to her. "Anything else?" he asked, inviting suggestions.

She took a step forward, positioning herself next to him as she looked down at where the assassin was still pinned by her fellow guards. "Perhaps make him have the feeling of drowning, of gasping for air but getting none. And the choking taste of octopus ink in his mouth, gagging every breath he tries to take."

"Excellent," he told her, adding those to the list of what would happen upon touching Quickdeath's snout. Of course, he didn't miss how Fathom looked at Indigo like she'd grown an addition two heads and five tails, nor how his thoughts wondered how she could possibly suggest something like that to happen to another dragon, not to mention how she could support Darkstalker in doing that in the first place!

"Now," Darkstalker finished, taking another few steps towards the assassin, who tried again to pull away with renewed vigor, absolute terror on his face. "Tell. Me. Who. Hired. You."

Quickdeath shook his head, still refusing despite the danger.

Darkstalker reached out his claw, lifting a talon to tap the assassin's snout. He moved it closer and closer, and Quickdeath craned his neck back as far as he could to evade, but at last there was no farther it could go. Darkstalker's talon was inches away when he finally broke.

"Vigilance!" the would-be killer cried in desperation, "Queen Vigilance hired me!"

"There," Darkstalker crooned, removing his claw, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

He glanced over at Clearsight, who had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole thing. There was a look of extreme concern on her face. "Darkstalker…" she breathed, "…Don't."

"Don't what?" he growled, louder than he intended.

"I know what you're thinking," she told him, reaching out to set a claw on his but failing as he pulled his away, "Please don't go to Queen Vigilance. Not now. There's so much that can go wrong—"

"Why shouldn't he," Indigo spoke up, interrupting her, "If she sent this dragon to kill him, then why shouldn't he confront her?"

"Indigo's right," Darkstalker spoke with confidence, "I see no reason to wait. If she did do this, then why sit and wait for another assassin to try again. I'm going to see her." He motioned to the other two Seawing guards, who hauled Quickdeath onto his feet. "Bring him, too." He turned and began walking away towards the palace, where Vigilance was sure to be.

"No, Darkstalker," Clearsight insisted, running up alongside him, "Don't do this…"

"I just want to talk with her," he growled, although his voice made it sound as though he wanted to do anything but.

"What's going on here?" a new voice entered the pavilion, and Darkstalker looked back to see Arctic dashing towards him, "What happened?"

"This dragon tried to kill Darkstalker," Indigo explained simply, gesturing to Quickdeath, "We stopped him."

"Three moons! Are you okay?" he asked hurriedly, looking over Darkstalker quickly and then, seeing that he was, rushing over to check Whiteout. She calmly lifted her wings and let him examine her. Once satisfied, he whipped around to Quickdeath, bringing his tail up and around and delivering a slash to the Nightwing's snout. "You sickening, moons-cursed, son-of-a—" his father let out barrage of curses and insults at Quickdeath, many of which Darkstalker had never even heard before, "I should kill you where you stand," he finished with a roar. Perhaps it was all for show for the other dragons here, but it seemed in that moment that, when it came down to it, Arctic actually cared about his children a lot more than he let on. Darkstalker was a little touched, but his mind was on more important matters.

"He'll be dealt with," Darkstalker assured his father, the Icewing still simmering.

"Is there anything I can do?" Arctic asked, continuing to sneer at the assassin as the blood from the cuts from his tail whip dripped down Quickdeath's snout.

"Stay here and look after Whiteout," Darkstalker instructed him, "Make sure nothing happens to her while I'm gone. I have something important to do…"

Arctic gave a nod and put his wings around his daughter as Darkstalker resumed his walk towards the palace. Listener and Thoughtful stayed where they were, but Wharf and Lionfish dragged Quickdeath along behind him, Indigo leading them. Clearsight held herself back at first but reluctantly followed, while Fathom hurriedly caught up to him and struggled to keep pace aside him.

"What did you do?" the Seawing prince demanded, "Enchanting that dragon like that! Have you listened to nothing I've said since I got here? Do you have any idea what that may have done to your soul? And that's not just the spell casting, but what you were trying to have him do? Darkstalker, you just about condemned that dragon to a fate worse than death!"

"How could you have even done that?" he went on, "After everything…I…I thought I could trust you. I thought you were a good dragon, and now you've gone and done that."

"I didn't do anything," he hissed, low so Quickdeath behind them wouldn't hear, "I didn't actually enchant anything. I only—I'll tell you later. Now's not the time."

"This is serious!" Fathom continued, not listenting, "I can't let you just—"

"Not now!" Darkstalker hissed again, silencing him. He had enough to worry about right now without trying to explain that he couldn't actually enchant without his scroll to a Seawing half out of his mind with panic. He was beginning to regret now not taking the time to inform him of it before, but the time had never seemed right. He had a feeling that he'd have to tell him after tonight, though, whether he liked it or not.

Thankfully, that shut Fathom up, although his mind continued to be full of thoughts of doom and gloom. The glances he continued to give Darkstalker were full of worry and even fear.

The main palace entrance was not far from the pavilion they'd been in, so Darkstalker didn't bother trying to fly to it. He led his procession through the main entrance and towards the largest palace ballroom where he imagined Vigilance would be, earning looks of confusion from all that he passed. It was certainly a sight to see: an animus, a seer, and four Seawings walking down the palace hallways, two of the latter of which were restraining a third Nightwing. Some dragons stopped and stared, others just shrugged their wings and went back to their food and drinks as they passed.

Clearsight made one more effort as they reached the grand ballroom and he caught sight of Vigilance at the other end, talking with a few nobles as they drank out of elaborate golden chalices. "Please," she pleaded again, putting herself in front of him, "Not now…"

He ignored her, pushing her aside as he made away across the room and through the crowd of richly ornamented dragons. While the courtyard outside was open to the public, the palace itself was reserved for those that the queen had invited to celebrate with her (Luckily, he himself was on that list or he probably wouldn't have been allowed in). Namely, the dragons here were the barons and lords of the kingdom. But Darkstalker didn't really care if he was pushing aside some of the most powerful Nightwings around, his focus was on Vigilance.

"Vigilance," he called out to her as he made his way closer, distracting her from her conversation with two nobles that he recognized but couldn't quite name at the moment, "I need to speak with you!"

"Ah, Darkstalker," she said, turning towards him in only mild annoyance, "It's good to see you decided to drop in. Although I thought you were staying out with your friends, not here with us older dragons." She lifted a claw and gestured around the ballroom. "But I do suppose it would be a shame to miss this. The decorators did an excellent job, wouldn't you agree?"

His eyes flickered only briefly to the elaborate decorations around him, the thousands of tiny gold and silver stars that lined the columns and walls, the magnificent glass statues at each corner of the room, and the splendorous bowls and dinnerware at the tables. But that was not why he was here, and he fixed his gaze back on the queen. He heard the rest of his party approaching behind him now and only then realized he'd left them a little behind.

"Yes, that's all well and good," he did his best not to growl, "But I have something that I need to discuss with you."

"Can't it wait," Vigilance sighed, "We're in the middle of my party."

He gave a motion with his head to Wharf and Lionfish, and they pushed Quickdeath forward. "This dragon just tried to kill me," he told her.

She gave a hummpf. "Good to see he failed," she said, "But this is a matter for the palace or city guard, not for me."

"He says you're the one who hired him." Darkstalker spat, noticing how the crowd around, growing quieter before as they listened, now fell silent.

Vigilance paused, looking him, Clearsight, Quickdeath, and the Seawings over. "Oh, very well," she sighed. "But not here. Come with me."

She gave a motion to two of her own royal guard to follow and led them all out of the ballroom and through the palace, eventually ending up in her throne room. He thought that she was taking all this rather calmly, all things considered. He probably wouldn't be so collected if someone had accused him of trying to kill them. It made him a little wary, actually.

"Now," she said once she was sure none had followed their group from the ballroom, "You say this assassin said I hired him to kill you?"

"Yes," Darkstalker answered with a hiss.

"And you actually believed him?"

He was taken aback for a moment. She'd said that as if it were the most ridiculous notion imaginable.

"…I had no reason not to," he ventured.

"If I may," Indigo suddenly spoke, "The information was obtained through threat of…well…horrible consequences should he have refused. It seemed reasonable enough to believe he was truthful."

"Ha," Vigilance barked, "Assassins are not trustworthy when it comes to such things. I would not believe him so easily. After all, why would I want to kill off my favorite animus?"

"I couldn't see any lie in his mind when he said it," Darkstalker argued back.

"Then look into my mind right now and see if I'm lying when I say this: I did not hire him." She opened her mind, so often closed and protected, as she spoke, and indeed he couldn't see any lie in it.

Yet, at the same time there was something else there. Something that said it wasn't quite that simple. Yes, Vigilance had not hired him, but maybe she knew who had…

"See," she spoke, interrupting his thoughts, "He lied to you to deflect blame. It's a classic trick of his kind. Now," she approached Quickdeath, who was still restrained by the two Seawing guards, "Tell me: who really hired you."

The assassin looked down and swallowed. "My queen," he spoke, his voice trembling, "You know I can't—"

"I am your queen!" she shouted at him suddenly, "You will answer me truthfully, or I will take whatever peril Darkstalker has threatened you with and multiply it a hundred times! Don't think I wouldn't!"

Quickdeath took a shaky breath and seemed to slump down where he stood, defeated. "The Icewings," he finally answered, "The Icewings hired me."

"You see," she said, turning to Darkstalker triumphantly, "There's a very simple explanation for all this. Being caught, he naturally tells you the exact opposite of what happened, trying to sow discord among us. Tell me, you didn't see any falsehood in him this time either, did you?"

He shook his head. Indeed, he hadn't. That the Icewings had hired him did seem to be the truth. But, as with Vigilance, there still seemed to be something there. Another lingering thought that indicated that maybe that wasn't the full story.

"Excellent," she said, and turned to her own royal guard, "Now, guards, take this assassin outside of the palace and kill him."

Quickdeath's eyes grew wide. "No!" he shouted, "You can't—"

She hushed him, raising a claw. "It's sad, I know," she said, "You served me so faithfully in the past, Quickdeath. Few were better than you. But I can't have dragons selling themselves out to our enemy and let them go unpunished, can I?" She waved her claw and her royal guard took over for Wharf and Lionfish, grabbing him and pulling him out of the throne room.

"No!" Quickdeath cried again as they dragged him away. "I've always been faithful, my queen! Always! You can't—" his protest were muffled as he disappeared into the hallway and out of sight.

Vigilance shook her wings. "Now, is that all?" her voice sounded annoyed and exasperated, as if this whole thing was an unreasonable waste of time.

Darkstalker glanced back at his friends. Something still didn't seem right, but he didn't know what. Despite hearing the truth, he still felt as though he was being lied to, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. Part of him wanted to confront Vigilance right now, perhaps to finally have that fight that would give him the crown, but with nothing on her he couldn't. Not in front of Fathom or Clearsight. Especially not in front of Indigo.

He nodded. "Yes, I think that's all."

He heard Clearsight behind him give a massive sigh of relief.

"Very good, now go enjoy the party. The night's still young and there's plenty to do for young drakes such as yourself." she dismissed them with a wave of a wing and they all turned to go. Darkstalker was the last one to leave, but he was stopped before he could exit by the queen, who called his name before he could go.

"Just a thought, while I have you here," she said, stepping towards him, "Have you done much work on what I asked you for? The enchantments?"

"A little," he half-lied, "…But you work Clearsight so hard, there's hardly a chance to check things with her. I'm afraid I can't say for certain that any spell would work right now."

The queen frowned and tapped a talon on the floor. "That is…distressing," she said with a bit of a growl, "You've had plenty of time to figure something out. I'm a patient dragon, but I must say that this is trying me. Have Clearsight make time and figure something out. I want no less than five options by next week!"

He nodded. "I'll do my best." That one was a complete lie.

"Good, now one last thing," she told him, beginning to move towards the exit to rejoin the party herself, "I know the Seawing are here to be a positive influence on you, or whatever whatnot it was Queen Pearl wrote in her letter, but that doesn't mean you have to spend all of your time with them. They're just Seawings, after all, not Nightwings," she gave an amused puff of smoke out of her nostrils, "From what I've heard, if you spend much more time around that purple one, people are going to think she's your bodyguard, not the prince's."

She left him there without another word and he watched her go, wondering if he was that obvious, or if Vigilance was subtly saying that she kept a very close eye on him. Whichever one it was, it left a pit in his stomach.