“You’re going to want to eat all of that,” said Thors, tilting his spear in the direction of my bowl. I’d been sitting in total silence for almost five minutes, at a loss for what to think, do, or say. The thunder and lightning had grown more frequent, the heavy rain drumming the rooftop.

I grimaced.

“I’m not so hungry anymore.”

“Trust me,” he insisted.

There was something about the way he said it that made me nervous.

“Why? What exactly does this initiation entail? Are they going to make us fast or something?”

“I can’t say more than I have.”

“What? you want more Favor?”

“Always, but even if you offered it, I couldn’t. I’m not allowed.”

I twisted my lip, or what passed for lips in this species, considering him.

“I’m honestly surprised you answered as many questions for free as you did. Why are you being so nice to me?”

He swallowed the bite of food he’d taken as I spoke.

“Because you really have lost your memories. In a way, you’re like a whole different person. Besides, you’ve been held accountable for what you did already.”

“Really, that’s it? You feel bad for me?”

Thors’ gaze skirted past me, over to the panoramic view I was studiously avoiding.

“That, and you don’t know anything about me. So you treat me like…like a normal person, I suppose.”

“What’s not normal about you?”

He laughed and a took another bite of fish.

“You really should eat.”

Fine. Be that way. I’ll just ask someone else later.

Setting my drink down, I considered the bowl in my lap. If I was going to force myself to eat, I might as well find out what the deal was with that glittery black pie.

Plucking it up, I brought it up close to my snout, sniffed, and frowned.

“You’re sure this is food?” I asked, glancing up at Thors.

“Very,” he replied.

I took a bite.

Oh. Oh wow.

First of all, the pastry—though it looked nothing like any pie crust I had ever seen—was next-level delicious. Buttery, flaky, moist, salty and slightly sweet, with a little pop of an unfamiliar mineral flavor that appealed to my kobold taste buds just as much as all those other qualities.

Then there were the insides. The earthy, umami richness of eel paired with some kind of fig-like fruit, onions and a root vegetable like a potato…the combination every bit as delicious as it was bizarre. And I knew the meat was eel because, as I took my first bite of it, the upper half of one drooped out of the remaining pie, head and all.

For half a second, the still-human part of my mind felt a little queasy again. Then my body took over with a vengeance—appetite renewed as it pushed aside all of my mental turmoil in favor of satisfying its baser needs.

The blue fruit was next, and turned out to be kind of like taro on the inside, with an edible seed at the center that tasted like a roasted chestnut. The scallop-like shells sported veins of turquoise-colored crystal in pretty, swirling patterns, and I stuck them into my dress pocket after sucking out their briny contents.

Across from me, Thors finished his own food and proceeded to chew on his bowl.

He raised a scaly brow as I stared at him.

“H-what?” he wondered around a large chunk of dinnerware.

“Er, nothing.”

Having killed entirely too many hours of my previous life watching YouTube videos about medieval cooking, among many other things, it didn’t take me too long to understand.

Must be something like a trencher.

Experimentally, I broke off a bit of my own bowl and nibbled at the edge of it.

Yup. Tastes kind of like the pie crust.

I’d polished off my skewered seafood and was halfway through finishing my bowl when the horns sounded. I hadn’t noticed them before, but there were four of them—one at each of the inner corners of the roof, fashioned to look like roaring dragon heads, their mouthpieces emerging from the bases of the pillars below them, played at by older kobolds.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

They were very, very loud.

All chatter ceased at once. The better part of the crowd directed their attention to the main entrance of the sheltered portion of the tier, where a large winged figure stood, a void-black kobold dressed in layered leather tunics and armor of the same midnight shade as his scales. His milky eyes stood out in stark contrast, despite the hood he wore.

I assumed by his air of authority and the regard of the others that he must be some sort of headmaster or dean, introduced before the arrival of my consciousness. As I focused on him, the only glyph that came into view was one that pulsed in the upper right-hand corner of my vision.

Shroud of Secrecy

“The time has come. Masters and returning students, rise. Those who have spent this day or parts of it in service, I thank you. Take what remains of your food and return to your quarters and commons.”

Everyone in question hurried to follow his orders, and Thors turned to me. Sliding his spear under his armpit to free his hand, he reached out to briefly squeeze my shoulder. It took me by surprise, and my scales where he touched me flushed with heat.

“Good luck,” he said, giving me what I think was supposed to be a reassuring smile…but his tail was stock-still. And then he turned to stream along behind all the other older students, leaving me on my own again.

When the others had gone, there were only around sixty or so of us white-clad initiates left—those first years who’d occupied other tiers having joined us up top. The hooded one spoke again, his voice amplified by the vaulted structure of the roof’s interior. Or possibly even by all the sigils.

“Good evening, initiates. I hope you have all enjoyed the feast.”

There was some tentative murmuring of affirmation at the hooded kobold’s words, but for the most part everyone was silent.

“It will be the last time for the next eight nights that anyone else cooks for you or provides you with food. From this moment until the end of your initiation, you will acquire and cook your own meals. You will stoke your own fires. You will maintain the sigils which dampen winds and ward the edges.”

There was a lot of whispering at that, which I took to mean that the secrets of initiation had been well-kept. Lightning flashed again, close this time, the resulting thunder almost deafeningly loud.

“For your guides, you will have your instincts, your existing knowledge, and each other. For the next eight days, you will see and speak to no other kobolds, save one another. You may not go inside, but you may gather food from whatever parts of the mountain or lakes of the school grounds your natural abilities allow you to access from here. Those who do foray outward must return here to sleep. Wherever you roam, you will be observed at all times by way of the birds, which are off-limits to all tampering and hunting. Any violation of these rules, school rules, or of territorial law during this time will result in immediate expulsion. Am I understood by all?”

It seemed he was, but by the looks on some of the other first years’ faces, not everyone was very happy about it.

“Most excellent,” he said. Clasping his hands together, he inclined his head, his glossy horns gleaming in the light of the oil lanterns that hung from the pillars to either side of him. “I bid you all a most revealing initiation. I shall see you again in eight nights.”

Then he turned and disappeared down the stairs. Some of the initiates near that edge of the platform watched his progress through the rest of the tiers. Others sat, frozen and dumbstruck. Most, however—including myself—rushed to the cookpit to snatch up what was left of the food.

Unfortunately, what was left wasn’t much. I made a beeline for the very last fish-skewer, only to get shoved out of the way by a much larger skyborn. By the time I’d regained my footing, everything was taken or already had people arguing and bartering over it.

The shover smirked, skewer clutched in his claw as he waved it over at me.

“You can have it, for promise of five Favor or fifty garnet chips when this is over.”

“Fuck off,” I told him, happy to find that the curse had a direct and satisfying equivalent in their language.

Sometimes my anxiety-induced impulsiveness went in the opposite direction of people-pleasing, when the person I was being impulsive at was a jerk. Unfortunately, I was encountering a lot of those lately.

The jerk scoffed.

“Good luck getting your own then, groundling.”

He stomped off, joining one of the many groups that had already begun to form. In fact, every cluster of seats on the tier now had a small crowd packed around it, including the one I’d previously occupied.

Damnit.

There was warmth coming up from the floor too, but it was faint compared to that of the seats. And there were more of those seats on the other tiers…but they were exposed to the rain. So I waited near the cookpit until the very last bit of food had been claimed and only a few Diamond initiates still lingered to tend sections of the fire. Then I huddled up on the ashy stone beside it, as far away as I could from the fire-tenders and their disapproving looks, and watched the embers die as I tried to work out a plan.

Or at least, I did for a while. Until footsteps sounded behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to meet the stare of a winged kobold who was colored strikingly in stripes of champagne and gold. From their scent and the flush of their face, they’d had their fair share of booze. Their glyphs flickered up.

1Gem Topaz

Huh. That’s it?

“You,” they growled.

“Yes?” I set my cup down beside me. It was empty anyway.

“You should not be here. After what you’ve done, how can you even stand to show yourself?”

“Er…”

Thesaurus-mode engaged as my anxiety hit maximum levels.

“With great contrition and humility?”

From somewhere not too far away, an owl hooted. Or something that sounded just like one, anyway.

“Your presence here is an insult to Seri’s memory,” snarled the shiny skyborn. “But it will not extend beyond initiation.”

“Look, I’m truly sorry for wha—“

The Golden One emitted a harsh peal of laughter.

“Your apologies are as worthless as all the rest of your words,” they said. “So don’t you dare spit them at me again. And get away from the fire. Can’t you see that you’re making the Diamonds uncomfortable?”

I sucked in a long breath through my teeth, hoping they couldn’t hear how shaky it was.

“I’m not going to move, and I’m pretty sure it’s against the rules for you to hurt me. So…”

Of course I had no idea if it was against the rules for us to hurt each other or not, but I sure as hell hoped it was. And yeah, Banana Guy had clawed me, but he wasn’t an initiate, and we hadn’t been under observation yet. That I knew of.

“To deliberately hurt you? Yes. To simply remove you? No.”

And then, moving so fast they were just a gold-ish blur, they lunged forward and snatched me up in their arms.

“Hey!” I kicked and writhed. “Put me down, asshole!”

And they did, past the overhang of the rooftop and out in the rain. Right at the very edge of the tier, where level stone gave way to steep incline. Back under the roof an instant later, they turned around to face me again, arms crossed, wings spread. As if challenging me to try to pass them. Somewhere in the near distance behind me, lightning struck again.