Twig huddled behind a tree while everyone else scattered. Pixie instincts said to hide, not to run. People could see you if you ran.

Pixie instincts were less than helpful at human size. Especially human size that glittered with pixie dust.

“Mommy! Big things! One up there!”

Oh no.

As something large crashed through the bushes to join the two little whatevers, Twig launched away in search of a bigger tree. A female voice behind him shouted for him to stop. He made several sharp turns and hid behind a bush instead.

So many voices were yelling. At least one was upset about the kids wandering off at night, but most were concerned with finding the intruders.

Someone whispered, “Fly upward, you idiot.”

Twig jerked in surprise, then nodded when he recognized the invisible dragon. A sudden breeze said Razorscale had taken his own advice. With a glance up to plan his flight path, Twig zoomed between the trees.

“That way!” a male voice yelled. “Climb on!”

Oh no. Twig thought of the wings he’d glimpsed. Big whatevers. He flew as fast as he could, dodging branches and shielding his head to plow through foliage. In moments he was out in the moonlit night, rising above the forest canopy alone.

Alone, and very visible. He looked down as he flew. Nothing had breached the tree line yet, but he knew it wouldn’t be long. Then what? There was nowhere to hide up here. What was Razorscale’s plan?

Twig spun around in an attempt to spot the invisible dragon. No luck, but he did see a human form that he recognized as Beak, spiraling upward in harpy fashion. She was watching the trees like she planned on attacking their pursuers with the talons she didn’t have at the moment.

Oh, there was the other dragon: Silver was high above everything, holding perfectly still and talking to someone.

So that’s where Razorscale went.

“Stop and talk, or die instantly!” shouted a voice from below. Leaves rustled as several other voices emerged to repeat the command.

Twig looked down to see ungainly pairs: each set of wings laboring in the moonlight held up a two-legger as well as a snake-bodied hitchhiker. Those were medusas, all right. More than close enough to kill.

“We’re sorry!” Twig shouted, zipping back and forth in agitation. “Please don’t kill us! Beak!” he twisted to yell upwards, “Come apologize too!”

“We don’t mean you harm,” Beak called down from her perch in the sky. “We didn’t know you were here.”

The pair in the lead flapped higher. “How many of you are there?” asked the medusa.

Even in the moonlight, Twig couldn’t pretend those snakelets were normal hair. He shuddered. “Five. Six?” He looked at Beak. “Six total. We’d all very much like to live, please.”

At that point Silver dropped low enough to be noticed. “Peaceful greetings,” they announced. “Can we move this conversation to the ground? Perhaps the beach, far from your young ones?”

They agreed to that. One winged duo led the way, while the rest of the increasingly numerous scary people watched. Twig flew politely. Beak and Silver did too. Twig could only assume that Razorscale was still nearby. Or maybe he wasn’t; maybe the sneaky old dragon was using this as an opportunity to scout around unnoticed. Either way, Silver seemed pretty calm. Twig did his best to take confidence from that. He shivered as he passed from the tropical air onto the beach.

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

“Where are the other three?” demanded a medusa as they landed. She unwrapped her tail from the flying whatever — gargoyle, that was the word! — and stood on her own. Her scales were black, or some other dark color that was near enough. Her skin was lighter, her head-snakes matched her tail, and her shirt nearly glowed in the moonlight. Even wearing what looked like a nightgown, she was very scary.

And she was waiting for an answer. “Um,” Twig said, looking around. “They didn’t—?”

“They fled out to sea,” Silver said. “Would you kindly send someone upward to see if you can spot them? They will look human, but are functioning on herd animal fear instincts. They fly quickly on pixie dust.”

“On it,” volunteered a slender gargoyle who looked fast. His skin was gray, with stonelike texture that Twig would have found fascinating under other circumstances. Now all that mattered was the fact that this guy had wings instead of death-vision. A tail too, though not a snakey one. Clawed feet of an entirely different sort from the harpies.

Twig thought in the back of his mind that he would be fascinated later. When the threat of death-by-statue wasn’t so near.

The fast gargoyle gestured to two others, and they launched skyward in a tornado of wingbeats. When Twig opened his eyes and lowered his hands, they were up among the stars.

“So talk,” said the same medusa. “Why are you here?”

Twig looked to Silver.

“We’re looking for some human wizards,” the dragon said. “I don’t suppose you know of any living around here?”

The medusa laughed once, though her head-snakes continued hissing in amusement. “Child, nothing lives around here for long.”

“Yes, we came to that conclusion,” Silver admitted.

Twig didn’t know how the dragon kept from looking down at the vast expanse of sand that had once been living creatures. Twig himself shuffled his feet, then lifted off just an inch or so out of principle.

Silver was still talking, the very spirit of humility. “I beg your pardon, but is it possible that powerful magic-users could have escaped your notice? I don’t presume to know the extent of your own magical abilities.”

“I’m going to go with no, that’s not possible,” the medusa said. She exchanged glances with the gargoyle at her side. “This island has been ours for generations, longer than the humans have claimed the land across the water. We know what we’re about.”

Silver started to insist, only to pause mid-word.

What was that breeze? And whispering? Oh, right.

“Sorry,” Silver continued smoothly, “But the sixth member of our group has returned. He’s invisible, and asks your permission to return to visibility without startling anyone.”

“Where is he now?” the lead medusa demanded.

Silver extended both clawed hands to the side, indicating empty air. “May he?”

She nodded. “He may.”

Between one blink and the next, Razorscale’s human form popped into view beside Silver, looking as regal and disagreeable as ever.

“Greetings,” he said. “I have come to realize that we were given severely bad directions by a certain human of my acquaintance.”

A different medusa chuckled. “Wouldn’t be the first time one of them pulled that trick.”

The gargoyle who’d spoken earlier frowned and added, “Yes, and we don’t appreciate them using our children as an assassination method.”

Razorscale smiled like the dragon he was. “I’ll be sure to pass on the message.”

“You do that,” the first medusa said. “There haven’t been any recent incidents, since the merfolk laid claim to the waters between here and the harbor, but obviously someone needs reminding.”

“Human memories are short,” Razorscale declared. “Like their lifespans and their intelligence.”

The medusa gave him an odd look. “Are you including yourself in that?”

“No.”

Silver spoke up. “None of our group are actually human. Those wizards we’re hoping to find have a lot to answer for.”

“Really.”

“Yes,” Silver said. “My mentor here is a dragon. Twig—”

“I’m a pixie!” Twig exclaimed, glad to have something to contribute. “I got us all the pixie dust!”

Beak raised a hand. “Harpy.”

“And our missing two are a centaur and a minotaur,” Silver finished.

Razorscale crossed his arms. “Everything about this is a headache and an insult, and I have someone to bite in half now for the misdirections. I’ll find his masters one way or another.”

The gargoyle leaned in. “Which masters are those?”

Razorscale rattled off a handful of names that Twig had never heard before. The gargoyle consulted with the other gorgons.

“Yeah, pretty sure those are made up too,” he said. “The powerful wizards in that nation all tend to be high-profile, and if we haven’t heard of a single one of them, then it’s a load of seaspray.”

The lead medusa added, at Razorscale’s skeptical expression, “We keep in touch with the rest of society, even when raising kids out here. And our society is keeping a weather eye on theirs.”

The dragon nodded. “As you should.” He looked thoughtful. “What else can you tell us about those powerful wizards? Any chance there’s a group of five that have been looking to show off shapeshifting abilities they haven’t earned?”

The answer wasn’t no. As the gorgons debated the likely identities of the wizards, Twig realized he wasn’t afraid for his life anymore.

He happily let the others handle the conversation. He had some fascinating people to stare at.

Dragon feet, that’s what they remind me of. The gargoyles have feet like Silver. Mostly. Though their faces are more standard two-legger, just with little horns, and…