“ALLORY FAE, NO!”

“Eep!” Galzune had her in a stranglehold. She coughed past his brawny arm, “Please, let me … I have to … do this.”

Harzune said, “Hold your fire, Ashueli. Allory, you can’t – that creature’s a Fae-eater and a nasty piece of work at that.”

Yet Monsteron Realm-Waster had sworn his kind were no enemies of the Faerie. They had no love of the Marakusians and their ilk, but their true ire was reserved for those who had stolen many thousands of Fire Raptor eggs over the years. She did not know this creature, but she had seen how the other Raptors had reacted to the psychic command with unquestioning obedience. This one had not.

Could he be a spy? A turncoat?

That, or he was an enemy deadlier than most. One who could smell or sense his way straight through a Chameleon illusion.

She heard herself say, “I know what I’m doing. Cover me. Galzune?”

“My sap, Allory …”

Her hero could not have sounded less certain. Great. Little Allory would … naa naa suggids!

Galzune released her. “Sorry.”

Unable to feel her wings, the Scintillant flew forward a dozen feet or so before bowing aerially. In a wobbly voice, she called, “Rancorous greetings, o stupendously abhorrent paradigm of devastation! Truly, your reek gusts over this miserable hovel like the miasma of a graveyard’s suppurating underbelly.”

The creature’s outsized jaw sagged open, clanking down atop one of the cages. She read untold malice mingled with clear astonishment in its glowing eyes.

Suggids, public speaking is a whole lot easier when I’m insulting creatures. Actually impressed myself there.

The creature still gaped at her. More fuel needed for the fire?

Behind her, Allory heard someone – probably Harzune – struggling not to choke at her mode of speech. Snigger. Aye, this wild Scintillant warrior used adjectives as her primary weapons. Lots of adjectives.

“It knowsss Raptor culturesss?”

“I am personally acquainted with the irredeemably vicious Monsteron Realm-Waster, pernicious overlord of the Canyonlands,” Allory managed to boast in her strongest voice, frantically trying to recall what the beast had taught her. “May Monsteron’s thrice-fold banes of woe fall upon thee, o vitriolic spawn of the netherworld! Let every Middlesun-occluding beat of your majestic wings spawn whirlwinds of scorching brimstone, o horrific harbinger of disaster!”

“Isss … impressive.” The creature acted both surprised and crestfallen by her introduction. “What it wantsss?”

Ha. There! She had actually sounded pompous! Sort of. Eleven-and-a-quarter-inch titchy-pompous. Besides, boasting was a strong cultural value for his kind, as was her claim to know Monsteron. He had suggested – with the utmost arrogance, of course – that the very mention of his nefarious name and title would unclench talons and avert rapacious wings, even for a Scintillant Faerie. So proven.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Said Fae could easily have vomited with relief just now, but she managed to keep control of her stomach.

“Monsteron?” she sneered, curling her upper lip as if to display fangs. “I promised that loathsome brute I would investigate the problem of egg-stealing from the –”

GNARRR!! he thundered, indulging in a spectacular paroxysm of rage. Never mind that half of the Faerie stuck in those cages below its massive chest fainted outright, his bellow actually blew the tile roof right off the next house over. A few Marakusians who must have been hiding or lurking beneath its eaves in the hope of swooping to claim some booty, fled with howls of terror. Rubble crashed and clattered as the Raptor climbed up atop the cages, gripping with all six paws. His massive muzzle homed in unerringly upon the tiny, flitting Scintillant.

Allory counted the remaining seconds of her life. Her relief and courage had just absconded for Centresky.

“WHAT IT WANTSSS?”

Suddenly, a fighting wedge of Chameleons formed around her, plus Ashueli directly behind and Sabline steady beneath her feet. Sweet friends! A girlfae could feel dangerous after all. She took a deep, rasping breath … which, in retrospect, also sounded like a decent imitation of Raptor conversational methods.

She cried, as furiously as she was able, “I demand your noxious name, o thunderous leveller of cities! I am called Allory Fae, Life-Weaver and Lightning-Bringer, Cleaver of Realms!”

Epic fabricator might be more accurate.

At once, he hissed poisonously, “Isss one ssseen but never found, isss one heard but never detected, isss death upon wings! Iss minne foodsss!”

The talons clenched possessively upon the cages.

Dissembling? That meant she had to go on the attack.

“Leave these pitiful Fae,” she ordered. “They are nothing but helpless motes swept before the terrifying tempest of your hideous majesty.”

“MINE! FOODSSS!”

Allory glared at the Raptor, clenching her gleaming right fist – mostly to stop it from shaking too obviously, and on second thoughts, shaking it in his direction. Aye. The titch threatened the mountain. “Leave them, or I swear, I shall whisper sickly secrets into Monsteron’s abominable ear holes …”

The creature juddered with visible, smoking rage as he clearly made some calculation before he snarled, “The realmsss of Wraithsss approachesss, little Fae. You mussst flee! Find the eggsss … or OBLITERON FINDSSS YOU!”

Frozen lead infused her bones. The realm of the Wraith? No!

Yet, she had his name. Monsteron had suggested that signified a victory, an acknowledgement of affiliation to a beast of superior status in Raptor culture.

It was also the only reason he did not attack her and her companions.

With that, the incensed creature kicked, twisted and tore at several of the cages until they spilled their Faerie prisoners. Obliteron was not careful. He dropped the cages on at least five Fae that she noticed. He snarled and raged as if the idea of abandoning a free lunch pained him abominably. Either that, or he was as cranky as he looked, which was to say, his smile could crack a pane of glass at a hundred paces. Raptor paces. Shovelling aside the rubble with irritable swipes, the beast hurled great pawfuls of rock and timbers down the alleyway and over the nearer rooftops, keeping any loitering Marakusians honest. Then, with another bellow that shook the city – this one proclaiming the failure of his mission, her stunned eardrums informed her – he took off with a mighty whoosh and shot away low over the green rooftops, winking out of sight by his fourth wingbeat.

Sneaky.

All for show? One had to wonder.

“Allory Fae, you are nothing short of incredible,” Harzune said, clapping her upon the shoulder.

She promptly deposited the contents of her stomach upon Sabline’s neck.

Aye. That heroic.

The sable Dragoness did not bat so much as an eyelid. Instead, she glared after the Raptor as if her heart burned with the same questions that Allory’s did. What manner of creature commanded Dragons? Who snuffed out the fires of their eyes and left them hapless thralls to its power?

Allory gasped, “I … I think I need to … sit down. One minute.”

“We don’t have a minute,” Yaarah called, pointing behind them. “One of those whirlwinds is heading straight for the town. Maybe a mile away and closing fast.”

Harzune rushed forward. “Let’s get these Fae out!”

“Two more cages under here!” Sabline roared. “The – huh? Where did they go?”

Most of the light green Faerie had just changed into rubble!