I pulled the handle at the door’s base, and was onto the Gären’s porch. By now the suns had emerged from behind the buttes, shining right into my face. My frills folded over my eyes blocking the light. Though I couldn’t see, an aroma of the nuts and feathers lighted on my tongue and wings were flapping.

Versta had gone past some hatch to see that Monsun, and, having sneaked away once, Gronte would have ensured it couldn’t happen again. Would she?

“Staune?” I called.

The fluttering left. When I cleared my eyes again, there was no red and blue bird.

“You sort of disappeared from the room and you weren’t with Ushra. Is something wrong?”

No response. As I rolled my head, I waved my tongue. “I’m a dragon, Staune. I can smell you.” My head turned and my tongue waved until I lighted on a gradient of nuts and feathers. I lifted myself into a high-walk as I tracked the parrot.

When I stepped from the porch, I crept along the trail. At the base of the tree the trail rose into the leaves of the willow.

The tree had grown thicker around its trunk than I had. I climbed onto the tree, testing my weight. Then I gripped the bark harder.

Out of habit, I glanced back at the ground. But it sat solid and complete in every direction. I loved climbing trees as a fledgling, but I had fallen from Tädet/Pimeys twice. First the guards had caught me, and the second time the netting below had caught me. Because of it, I’d hatched a healthy amount of caution.

I took beats to climb to the near-top of the tree, where a red and blue bird lay prone in a nest. The nest sat on a branch above me, blocking the body of the bird, but her head peeked over the top.

“Hi, Staune.”

“Go away, Stargazer.”

“What’s wrong?” I climbed onto a branch and sat there, steadying myself with my forelegs. When a wind blew, the branches swayed and my weight fell behind me. I yelped and threw my weight to and fro until I settled again.

I looked back to the bird and smiled, but my expanded frills and half-spread wings gave me a wuthered look.

“Not a thing.”

“Okay,” I said. She didn’t want to share her dewings. I had dealt with this before, I’ll just have to be indirect. “What are you doing up here, then?”

Staune spread her wings. “Sparrow couple once lived up here, yes, and they had this nest.”

I tilted my head. “Once?”

“A nasty wildcat ate them.” Staune made a vicious snarling sound.

“Oh no.” I let my frills droop. “That drags.”

“Minnow grounded it. Wouldn’t shut about it. Demanded I call him Catkiller.”

“Minnow?”

Staune paused before saying, “Wrinklyfrills calls him Versta. You do too.”

A giggle escaped my lips. I looked up. If I wanted Staune to open up, what else could I ask? “So, what do you think of that Adwyn character?

“He is annoying, yes. Slicktongue spent a longer time thinking than Citrusface yet he didn’t even lick Slicktongue’s words. So annoying.”

I mouthed ‘Citrusface.’ Citrus, what was a kind of fruit, right? Like lemons or orange. Oh. I strangled a giggle while I asked, “Why do you have so many names for everybody?”

“It is faster to say, yes.”

“Faster?”

“I don’t have to gather of all the little titles you dragons have and say them right. Sofrani, Gyfari, Ychyr, brak brak brak. Faster to say Citrusface or Minnow.”

I looked up, the shadows of leaves dancing about my face. “Well, I don’t see how Stargazer is any easier to remember than Kinri-sofran.”

“Tricky, ueh. My only Sofrani are Slicktongue and Wrinklyfrills,” she said, then added in Gronte’s voice, “Kinri-ychy.”

“Fine, fine. I still don’t see how it’s easier to say than just plain Kinri.”

“You look like someone scratched up your face with stars and also you look up at the sky whenever you don’t know what to say, yes.”

I looked back at the bird. “How did you even notice that?”

“I notice a whole flock of things. Like how Nestling covers up one foot when she’s hiding something. Or how Slicktongue uses big words when he’s upset. Or how Wrinklyfrills touches her locket when she’s worried about Nestling.”

Some part of me whispered,She could be useful when dealing with the Frinan administration. I scratched my headband, and looked away, not up. “So um, what’s it like to know what everyone’s thinking?”

“It’s annoying. Citrusface is up to something, yes, and no one hears it, no.”

“Well, I don’t like Citri⁠ ⁠—⁠ Adwyn either. He wants something from me, and I owe him. It feels like…”

Staune cocked her head. “A stormy-cloud on the way?”

“Like a stomcloud, that’s it.”

Staune hopped out of the abandoned nest, and climbed on the trunk of the tree. A short trill escaped her beak, warbling up in pitch. She repeated it before waving her wings at me. “What do you owe Citrusface?” she said in a sharp, clipped voice.

I looked away. “The administration controls who gets to enter the town and how. Sky-dwellers”⁠ ⁠—⁠ I glanced at the bird and its head⁠ ⁠—⁠ “erm, dragons with blue scales, are kinda suspicious because we live in the sky and you only see a sky-dweller on the surface if they’ve been exiled.”

“They are blue,” the parrot said in Ushra’s voice, followed by his laugh.

“That was a little weird.”

“It was a joke, yes.”

“It didn’t sound like a joke.”

“That makes it better,” Staune said in a high voice, followed by a smart cluck. “Slicktongue makes the best jokes.”

“Was the interrogation a joke?”

Staune cocked her head. “No no, Slicktongue had to ensure you were you.”

“What about your question? The one about angles and horizons.”

“I had to be sure you were you, too. Nestling said you were obsessed with stars.”

“What?” My frills burst wide. “Astronomy is a perfectly acceptable hobby for a young wiver!”

Staune’s wings burst wide. “Perfectly acceptable hobby!”

I poked Staune with my alula. Staune squawked and loosened her hold on the truck and fell to the branch I sat on. I huffed and drew my wings back, looking away again.

“As I was saying, sky-dwellers are suspicious because you had to do something to get exiled from the sky, maybe something illegal.”

“Did you do something illegal?” she asked, head cocked.

“No!”

“Perfectly acceptable!”

“What?” I rolled my head. “Anyway, I requested an audience to discuss my admission into Gwymr/Frina. I… hadn’t made a very good impression. But then Adwyn stepped up for me! He convinced the faer to admit me.”

“Nmm,” the bird hummed. Her head cocked further.

“So now I owe him for letting me into town, and my six cycle examination is coming up. I might end up owing him even more.”

Staune stepped toward me. “You could screech.”

“Screech?”

“Yes. Whenever someone is bothering me, I screech until they go away. It sounds like,” the parrot cut into an intense clicking, warbling sound that shredded my frills! I yelled, and my wings and forelegs flew up to cover my frills.

Without my legs steadying me, I fell over and dropped through the trees, slamming against three branches. They snapped and punctuated the hitches in my yelling.

My legs flailed with my wings. They caught on two branches. My fall slowed enough for me to pull myself up. I wrapped my legs around a thick branch and lay on top of it.

My breath caught up with me. I sat there, breathing until a blue and red bird lighted down in front of my snout.

She touched her break to my muzzle, a light peck. “You fell.”

“You were so loud! Please don’t do that again.”

“I will if Citrusface comes back.”

“Okay.” I looked up at the sky. A few pterosaurs and birds soared under clouds and skylands. Below that, a few dragons flew about on their business. Staune looked about too, and like a suggestion, the came a certain trill on the winds. The fourth short ring. “Oh!” I said. “I need to go fly to work.” I looked back to the bird. She faced me, but turned again when I spoke. “Bye Staune. You’re pretty starly. Better than Versta.”

Staune clucked and mimed, “You’re pretty starly.” Then she switched to her normal voice, “Better than that”⁠ ⁠—⁠ she shook, seeming to vibrate⁠ ⁠—⁠ “‘Wow! Totally Adventurers’ drake.”

I drew in my wings. “Digrif is alright.”

“I need to fly to work,” Staune echoed.

“Oh yeah! Thanks.”

Staune trilled and shifted onto one talon, holding out her other talon to me.

I flicked my tongue. But my eyes cleared after a beat, and I extended my pointer toe. She wrapped her talon around it and shook it.

Then a flutter of purple and screeches interrupted us. It came up beside my face, talons scratching and scoring my face. I yelped. When I lost my balance, no branches broke my fall. I landed hard on my back, sprawling on the soft dirt. An up-jutting rock punched into my back, forcing a final yell from my throat.

Above me, I heard a tossering trill, following by the voice of Versta, “Was this wretched que-re-me minnow ruffling you, O Toastyfeathers?”

“You’re the ruffling minnow, ueh! Starsnout was just leaving, you tongueless quah!” The larger parrot lunged, swiping the smaller with a talon.

Versta warbled. “Well, I helped her to the ground. She should show thanks.”

I stood up, saying, “Thank you, Versta. Let me replay the favor.” I grabbed the rock I fell on and yank it out of the ground. It flew from my foot at the purple parrot. He dropped from the branch just in time. Oh well.

“Ground yourself, ueh!” Staune’s voice said.

I flicked my tongue, looking at the descending parrot, trilling, then back up to the red and blue parrot. Her break was closed, and she lifted her head when I met her eye.

“Don’t do that!” I jabbed with my foreleg.

“What?” the smaller parrot asked.

“Mimic each other’s voices. It’s confusing!”

Versta clucked at me.

“You stinky little bird!” I leapt at Versta.

“Kinri!” a familiar growling voice called out. Hinte was slinking out of the house, faltering on her injured hindlegs.

I stopped short of Versta, waiting for her to reach me by the tree.

She waved a faded blue bag, tied closed. “Have this. It is keimfrei dust. Sometimes used in perfumes.”

“Thank you,” I said. But I waved my tongue. “That’s not all it’s used for, is it?”

Hinte smiled. “Of course. Nothing has one use. It is also a coagulant for the descrying mixture, the very sensitive kind. The forest had stargazers too, you know.”

“It’s a nice gift. Thank you, Hinte.”

“You already said that.” But Hinte smiled very slightly, before turning and limping back to her house.

In the doorway of the Gären manor, Ushra stood and watched Hinte approach. I turned to leave again, but caught the ancient alchemist’s gaze as I did. His impassive, disdainful look hadn’t changed. Yet there was a twinkle of something in his eyes, just this once. He licked his eyes and it was gone.

* * *