The night on the shore was unpleasant, but Razorscale had spent worse. The first to wake, he wasted no time in rousing his apprentice and getting the handful of non-dragons ready to move. They were groggy and slow with the exception of Twig, and the pixie’s manic chatterbox nature wasn’t an improvement over the grumbling of the others.

There was no food left from the day before, which made the grumbling worse. Once Windmane had applied some pixie dust, she flew up to sample the grass by the roadside, and declare it barely edible with human taste buds. Stomp and Twig climbed up to try it too, while Beak reached for her own pixie dust with words about going fishing.

“There will be food in the city,” Razorscale snapped. “We are wasting time. Everyone grab your things and let’s move.”

They grumbled some more, but fell in line. The centaur and minotaur each snatched up handfuls of grass to eat on the way. Razorscale made a face at the idea. Even with a human digestive system, which could supposedly handle plants, he would never. Judging by Beak’s expression, she agreed.

At Razorscale’s directions, the group resumed the awkward high-speed arrangement they’d had before. Once the apprentice was airborne with the others in pursuit, Razorscale activated his speed charm and outpaced them all. He’d followed this road at night earlier, and knew the way now.

There were other people on the road during the daytime, which hadn’t been the case before, but none of them took up enough space to cause Razorscale more than a minor detour. Their reactions of surprise were irrelevant. No one got in his way or gave those in the sky trouble, and that was all that mattered.

After dodging umpteen carts and pedestrians, mostly human, Razorscale finally saw the city walls ahead. As agreed, the group gathered at the side of the road to proceed on foot for the last stretch. There was some minor complaining, but none from the apprentice, who looked more tired than they would likely admit.

“Can I keep hovering?” asked Windmane. “I still can’t walk on two legs.”

Razorscale sighed. “Use the carpet,” he said. “We want to be unremarkable. The humans have vehicles that fly, but I suspect that only their most powerful mages can move through the air on their own.”

She didn’t like it, but she took up a position on the flying carpet while the others stood. Razorscale urged them to pick up their share of the blanket bundles, then he led the way toward the human stronghold.

The people they passed on the road didn’t exclaim in shock now, though their gazes did linger. Razorscale was displeased to find that all of these humans were staring at his young apprentice. It didn’t bode well for an anonymous entrance.

He was right. The guards at the gate stopped them, while letting everyone else on the road pass. Razorscale waited with ill grace for the justification. These humans wore armor that was bedazzled with all manner of battle magics, but they clearly wielded none of their own.

“No dragons allowed in the city proper,” explained the shorter one. She addressed Razorscale, but pointed at his apprentice as if discussing a trained animal. “Not without special dispensation.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Why?” Razorscale demanded.

“They’re too big,” the guard said. “Knock things over. It was a problem in the past, so now there’s a law.”

“Knock things over?” Razorscale repeated. “You think any self-respecting dragon would be so clumsy?”

“I don’t make the rules, sir. But you can’t bring a dragon inside without permission, and I’m afraid there’s no loitering around the entrance either.”

Razorscale showed his teeth. “If you—”

“But it’s just a baby dragon!” Stomp interrupted. “It’s very well-behaved. Look.” She scooped up the youngling in question, who had the grace to keep quiet and play along. That was an ungainly armful for a human, but Stomp was muscled in minotaur fashion. She held the dragon without wavering. “I promise it won’t cause any trouble; we’re only here for a short visit. What if we use a leash? It’s as tame as a dog, I swear.”

Razorscale scowled and held his tongue while the minotaur convinced the pair of humans that the talented magician older than they were was in fact a helpless toddler. The indignity of it all.

But it worked. The guards agreed to make an exception “Just this once,” and said they’d hold her responsible if the young dragon ended up setting something on fire or eating things it shouldn’t. Stomp agreed.

Razorscale held his silence until they were about to be allowed in, and the guards took issue with the flying carpet.

“You’ll need a permit for that.”

“Really?” Razorscale said. “Do these knock things over too?”

“What about pixie dust instead?” Windmane asked quickly.

“Do you have some with you?” the guard asked sharply. “That’s banned outright.”

“No,” Windmane said. “There was … somebody selling it down the road a ways.” She pointed back the way they had come, with what seemed to Razorscale like an unconvincing expression.

“We’ll look into it. Now please dismount. If you don’t have a permit, we can hold the carpet for safekeeping while you’re here.”

“But I can’t walk!” Windmane wailed.

“She really can’t!” Stomp added.

Razorscale jabbed a finger toward the carpet. “That is a mobility aid,” he spat. “No one will be taking flights of fancy or knocking things over. Now if you don’t mind, we have business to attend to, and I’m sure you have much better things to be doing than harassing people for absurd reasons.” Fed up, he drew on a charm and flared his mage lines. “We will see you again soon when we leave. Good day.”

Like the previous pair had, these guards fell all over themselves to apologize at the sight. Razorscale just glared and led his group through the gates. The guards were whispering as soon as he passed, mage lines once again faded from sight. He knew full well that the humans wouldn’t keep this encounter to themselves. He would have to move quickly.

Thankfully the roads were wide and well-labeled, with a clear route toward the river. Razorscale set a quick pace in that direction.

He heard his apprentice say, “I appreciate your quick thinking, but I feel extremely insulted. Please put me down.”

“Yes of course, sorry,” Stomp replied.

Then the apprentice was trotting by Razorscale’s side, dignified as ever. The two dragons exchanged a nod of These people are all idiots, and continued in silence.

The river was easy to find, the direction was easy to figure out, and the trash-strewn park was right where Razorscale had left it. So was the shop. But it was closed.

Razorscale glared at the “closed for renovations” sign, and felt something akin to regret. Which is to say, he was angry that this was partly his fault.

“Wow,” Twig said, face pressed to a crack in the boarded-up windows. “Somebody really wrecked the place.”

“Yes,” Razorscale said. “Someone did.” He looked around with a silent snarl, thinking over what little he knew of the missing human. Not enough to find him.

Beak was the one to ask: “Now what?”

Razorscale checked the street sign. “Same plan, different route. We locate our enemies.”

“And how do we do that?”

“By locating theirs,” Razorscale said. “This way. According to the gorgons, there should be a rival faction in the southeast part of town.”

“Can we get food first?” asked Windmane, while Twig agreed heartily.

Razorscale sighed. “Yes, fine, we’ll get food on the way.”