Swimming as a kobold was unlike anything I could have imagined. My body responded instinctively as I tipped forward into a horizontal position, something I hadn’t bothered to do in the much smaller bathing pools of the suites.

Clear nicitating membranes I didn’t know I had closed over my eyes. I didn’t even have to think about the best way to swim with my new anatomy, my body just…did it. My tail flowed powerfully from side to side behind me, helping to propel me through the water. My feet—though not exactly webbed—were far-better adapted to swimming than a human’s. What’s more, holding my breath was actually…fairly comfortable.

It made it easy to appreciate the beauty around me. Through the schools of flitting fish that pulsated in varying hues of pastel light and the tiny eels like tinsel confetti come to life, I made out row-upon-row of channels carved into lengths of the stone, and filling those channels were shellfish of at least five different varieties. One of them even bore the distinctive blue-crystal swirling I’d come to recognize. There were traps for fish too, and another sort for something which resembled a cross between a small blue lobster and a crab.

And everywhere I looked, there were worms.

I knew they had to be the ones the steward was talking about. First, because they were the only things really resembling worms around. Secondly, because it was very, very clear that they were a problem. Their thin bodies flitted in and out of yellowish-green hardened tubes, their heads topped with a plume of brilliantly blue feather gills. And they were everywhere, on everything. Fused to the shells of clams, snails, oysters, and crab-things. Crowding out every bit of space in the tiers as they could.

I swam on, to the spot that Saltris had indicated. Squinting, I tried to see through the encrustation of kipse worms to the sigil below, but couldn’t make out enough of it for any information to come up. What I could tell was that it was fully charged—for all the good it did. I resurfaced and shook the water from my head.

“Do you have anything to scrape these worms off with?” I called.

He grunted and, pulling something from his belt, chucked it at me. Busy treading water, I fumbled the catch and had to dive in after it.

It was like a paint scraper, but made of lacquered wood. I grumbled silently to myself, releasing the occasional burst of bubbles from my nostrils as I struggled to pry the cement-like worm husks free.

About twenty minutes and three resurfaces into the endeavor, I felt the movement of something larger in the water, caught darkness out of the corner of my eye. I whipped my head around, the sudden movement sending bubbles dancing through the water and fish flitting in all directions. My heart practically dropped out of my body, because at first all I recognized was how big it was.

I thrashed wildly for a few seconds of absolute panic before my brain processed the fact that not only was the thing incredibly awkward and slow-moving in the water—with four legs, a skinny tail, and a pair of wings—but it was already turning around. As if the sight of me had scared it off.

Or perhaps some protective sigil I haven’t seen yet. I resurfaced, giving my hammering heart a moment to calm before dipping back under to the sounds of Saltris’s scolding.

Another ten minutes or so of anxious, labored scraping, and I at last managed to clear the damned thing off completely. You’d think I’d have been able to get a full read on it, then. But no.

The impression-translation came through, and I was not pleased.

All —— in balance

— — excess

— — — — harmony

Cull — — —

Only bits and pieces of the intended meaning were clear. It was almost like my Innate Abilities or the translation magic itself was glitching out. But, given the situation, I guessed that wasn’t the case. I resurfaced.

“You finally get them all off there?” wondered Steward Saltris, sounding exasperated. I repressed a scowl. You could have helped.

“Yes,” I called back. “How old is this sigil?”

Saltris snorted. “At a guess? Half as old as the school itself.”

I’m gonna guess that’s really, really old.

I swam back the way I had come until my feet could touch the bottom of the tier.

“In that case I’m guessing the language has slid out of sync with the intent. I’m going to need to come up with a full replacement. After that, it’ll probably be at least a week, maybe a little more until the school can implement the change, at a guess.”

I actually had no idea how long it would take, but what I’d said at least seemed reasonable. It was at once gratifying and disconcerting, actually, how easily I found myself falling into the role of sigil authority. I honestly couldn’t tell if it was just a false sense of confidence based on my recent reading and experiences with my earthly version of the craft, or something of the old Zia bleeding through again.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Over a week?” The steward looked offended. Aghast, even.

“I mean, that’s nothing compared to how long it’s been degrading, right?”

“Perhaps not, but these waters are a crucial food source, crucial! Output is dwindling already, and—”

“I’m sorry,” I said, flinching as he prickled at my interruption. “I really can’t be sure exactly how long it’ll take, but it will get done as quickly as it can be done.”

Steward Saltris straightened his stance.

“It had better,” he grumbled, before turning his back on me and bending over to pluck up a crab trap.

More than happy to leave the grumpy old deepborn behind, I snatched up my furhide and hurried back to my room to puzzle over possible solutions to the pest control sigil. As unlikely as I knew it was that I’d be able to come up with a viable plan before getting Other Zia’s memories back, I had to at least try. And honestly…the challenge had me intrigued.

After changing into dry clothes and clasping Vyr’s gift around my shoulders once more, I spent the rest of my service hours pouring over my books of sigilcraft and Gem Types, scribbling ideas and notes on a blank page in Other Zia’s latest and least-finished journal. By the end of it, I was feeling hopeful…if not entirely confident that my attempts might end in unforeseen disaster and/or chaos.

I’d barely set my research aside, growling stomach demanding my attention, when there was a knock at my door.

“Come in!” I called, dragging myself up from my bed scoop.

The door opened partway, and Jenner’s head appeared around the edge of it.

“We’re going to dinner now,” he said. “If you’d like to come.” He was looking at me like he’d never really seen me before, and I didn’t know how I felt about it. How had his view of me changed, since he’d learned the truth? Am I an alien to him now? My stomach twisted fitfully at the thought.

“Er,” I was starving, and after my earlier encounter with Imbris, a little time with my coven didn’t actually sound so bad. And the fact that he was still including me in things, like I was a normal part of the group, was a good sign. If only it didn’t include Reve or Erik. “Yes, thanks. I’m coming.”

Hopefully not everyone’s going.

Unfortunately, everyone was going. And somehow, I ended up sitting between Reve and Destrien and directly across from Erek as we gathered in one of the outdoor scoops on the dining ledge. But past them and beyond the figures of the guards, briefly blocking out the stars in their passage, I made out the silhouettes of several skyborn approaching the academy, making quick progress with the wind at their backs.

“Hey,” whispered Destrien from beside me. “You gonna keep those? They were all out by the time I got to them.”

I glanced down to where he was pointing—at the crystal-embedded Peshiri shells in my trencher bowl, their salty-sweet contents already sucked out. Something clicked into place. I glanced around. Everyone else was deep in conversation with one another, even Erek…though he still threw periodic glances my way.

“Was that Scruffy I saw in the water earlier? You sent him in to get these?”

Destrien shrugged, not quite meeting my eyes.

“Sssshhh,” he hissed, flicking a sideways glance at Jenner before lowering his voice until I could hardly hear it at all. “Can I have them or no?”

“Guessing you’re keeping this hush from him, huh? You know, Keshry isn’t—“

“I didn’t ask for your opinions,” Destrien snapped under his breath. “I asked for the shells.”

I shook my head.

“Fine. Here. Have them.” Snatching them up from my bowl, I drop them discreetly into his lap. “Good luck. And don’t say I didn’t try to tell you. Or that she hasn’t tried to tell you.”

Pocketing the shells in a flash, Destrien ignored my words and turned his attention back to his food. Which was for the best, because that’s when I caught a scent which made me freeze.

Thors emerged onto the ledge, his aroma of sun-warmed sand taunting me with its strength and appeal. He was alone, and didn’t so much as look at me…though I was staring straight at him. Instead he continued on with his food until he was out of sight. My insides constricted, and suddenly I wasn’t sure I wanted to finish my meal.

“Is that over then?” Reve’s voice spoke softly from beside me. I snapped my head around to glare at them.

“None of your business.”

After my exchange with Destrien, that may have been a little hypocritical of me, but I didn’t care. This was Reve, after all.

Their eyes went wide, and then they chuckled.

“You forget very quickly that we are coven-mates.”

“I wish,” I spat back. “I really, really wish I could forget that, Reve. I could use the peace of mind.”

“Yes,” their turquoise eyes studied me in a way they never had before. “I’m sure you could.”

“Right. Because you’re still somehow convinced I deliberately killed my sister and still blame me even knowing that I…knowing what you know. And with everything I’ve told you all. I mean, depths. I knew your scales were soft, but I didn’t know they were so paper-thin that every bit of information that enters your brain just slops right back out again!”

Reve’s wings flexed.

“That wasn’t what I—“

“Zia.”

At Jenner’s calm interruption I looked up and over to see that not only he, but all the rest of the coven were watching us now with rapt attention. Slowly, their orange eyes still flicking between the two of us, Asho reached into their bowl to pluck out a bit of food and stick it in their mouth, munching noisily.

“S-sorry,” I said. “Didn’t realized we’d gotten so loud.”

Jenner’s eyebrow scales rose, looking from one to the other of us.

“What’s the dispute here? Reve,” his voice dropped until it was just above a whisper. “You know who she is,” he said, tone thick with unspoken meaning. “And you know the truth about what happened with Seri, besides. Why—”

Asho popped another bit of food in their mouth. Reve flushed, rushing to speak in their own defense.

“I wasn’t antagonizing her, I swear it. I—”

The Topaz fell suddenly silent. Erek, Imbris, Asho—everyone sitting across from us had all taken on the same look of wide-eyed shock. I blinked, and, following their collective stare, twisted my head around to look behind me. As I did, before my eyes settled on the object of my coven’s focus, I saw that every other kobold around was looking that way too.

“Zia and Reve, of Coven Raystone, Clans Ashri and Soltras?”

Before me, from my seated perspective, was a pair of blue-black taloned feet and a lashing tail. I peered upward from there, past gray-black leather breeches and streamlined tunic. Past a grand mantle of silver links and glinting blue gemstones, linked over the shoulders to a set of decorative pauldrons. The kobold flexed her enormous wings, and at last I looked up to meet her eyes. They were a cold, colorless gray, their pupils narrowing to slits as I met her gaze, processing her glyphs at the same time. A Sapphire. And to either side of her stood two more—almost identically dressed, but with nowhere near the presence.

I swallowed past what felt like a jagged rock jammed in my throat.

“Y-yes?” I croaked.

Beside me, Reve merely gave a small nod.

“I am Caravis of the Clanless, Crown Truthseer Premier. If you would both come with us, please?”