Adwyn was still talking. "…I ordered Kinri to return the corpse to Gwynt and Digrif, and I pursued the thief who still wore his cloak. At this point, a skein of guards was en route, with orders to split and pursue either thief.

"Chasing this thief took us out of the north end. At one point during the flight, about twenty dragons with identical cloaks flew to and around him and tried to let him escape in the confusion. It worked," — Adwyn smirked — "for a few moments. But the true thief was the only one flying away with support; the distractions all flew alone.

"The chase ended in the west end. The thief and his support landed in the a… brick yard. It was an ambush — of course it was an ambush — but I called off the guards too late, and we fought. The thieves produced another vial of the smoke mixture that allowed them escape from the market.

"The obvious effect of this was greatly increasing the danger of the ambush. We could not see, and the smoke grew thicker every moment. But this smoke carried along a sort of mold that clogs the throat and restricted movement. Water kills it, and this was the only thing that saved us.

"Many of the guards were injured in this, and it was for that reason I called a retreat, and allowed the thieves to escape.

"That is all."

The scribe scratched the last line with a flourish. "Hum. That's everyone?" A nod. "Shall I return to the hall, then?"

"Do." Adwyn waved the scribe off. He turned to us and said, "Thank you for your time, everyone. Gwynt, you may take the remainder of the day off. Digrif, you may back off from the operation now, conditional on your telling no one of it."

Digrif said, "And miss the real adventure? This just got interesting!" Digrif froze, and quickly added, "If that's alright you, Sofrani."

Gwynt said, "If Donio's fledge thinks he can handle this, what would I look like backing well enough off?"

"Very well. Go find Rhyfel-sofran and Hinte-ychy. They should be finished by now. Kinri, stay. We have something to discuss."

Digrif waved at me as he stepped away. I swallowed, and tried to wave back.

I turned to face Adwyn, and he wasn't even smirking. "Kinri. I'll look straight to the point. The purpose of a debriefing is to get a record of what happened, as it happened — even if that record is embarrassing. I saw what happened at the net: you reached the net first, but dropped your knife. I see that it is a small omission, but if we cannot trust you to speak honestly about the little things, how can we ever trust you with the bigger ones?"

I looked down, scratched the gravel, clouded my brilles, huffed. Even as it stung, I could taste that he was right. There were things I had good reasons for hiding, but this wasn't one of them. It's just… I wanted to be instead of a disgrace some kind of hero, and heroes don't drop their weapons, right? The Kinri who saved Hinte from rockwraiths, who stood against the humans, she wouldn't drop her weapon.

"I know why you did it, Kinri. You're transparent." I flinched, and he added, "And that's not a bad thing; it's a virtue. My point is, I know you want glory, and I want to tell you it doesn't matter. There are more things worthy of your time than the admiration of strangers. Do you have goals, Kinri? Ambitions?"

"I… had wanted to settle down, maybe find a cute drake and maybe lay a few eggs. Just live a simple life." A frill brushed my headband. "And, if I'm being really dreamy, maybe one reunite with my brother again, in the sky."

Adwyn nodded. "And none of that quite entails becoming some kind of hero, does it? Regardless of what you want, you can get more done in the shadows than in the light."

"Says Adwyn, the military adviser Adwyn, Rhyfel-sofran's second in command," I echoed Gwynt's words. I could make a good parrot.

"Yes. Note well: the military adviser Adwyn. Dragons recognize me for my position, but I am hardly famous in myself. The Rhyfel? Of course. The Ushra? Sure. The Aurisiuf? Unfortunately. But the Adwyn? You'll never hear it uttered. I'm middling significant here, and that's all I need for my ends."

"What are your ends, Sof — Gyf — Adwyn?"

"I love Dyfnder/Geunant, and I have grown to love Gwymr/Frina. I long to see them united."

I looked up at the clouds drifting by.

Adwyn cleared his throat, and I met his eyes. He said, "With that out of sight, there is a more important matter to address. What truly happened when you left Hinte and Digrif? I know you didn't just buy the book."

I could have broken eye with him. I could have hugged my wings to me. I could have scratched my headband. Instead, I stole my face into a mask, swallowed hard, clouded my brilles, and thought. Then, abruptly, "Do you know of the capabilities of a Specter cloak?"

Adwyn furrowed his brow. "Is that what you're wearing?"

"Mine doesn't work." I glanced away. How would I explain this?

I pointed a wing at the alleyway where the pumice cart still sat. "Can we have some privacy?"

The military adviser nodded.

Standing in the alley, in sight of no one but him, I began, "After I bought the scroll, I was sitting out of sight, flipping through it, I was alone, I — I had wanted to get away from the crowd. Well, as I was alone, the shadows near me swirled and gulfed…

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It was a very clear day, and a cloud had just passed in front of the sun.

I was in the middle of the east market bustling with dragons, and I couldn't see anyone else.

I was all alone, and she said, "Hello Kinri, the Specter with no cloak." Behind me, her voice was a wind from the shadows. On the nape of my neck, her perfumed breath was a shiver.

On the front of my neck, her cool edge was fear.

Any other day, I might have yelped and pressed myself — fatally — onto the knife. Maybe it was the stars, maybe it was the pitch perfect pronunciation of my name, and maybe it was the unmistakable way the shadows swirled and gulfed around me.

But regardless, I knew the time had come.

Underneath every mask, I'd seen this confrontation coming, and so I composed myself. The second it took for me to do that, however, was enough for my instincts to squeak and flinch and draw a biting red line on my neck.

Breathe.

A wet tongue flicked, and then came the report of a murmuring voice so motionless, so glassblown, so familiar in its inflection, that the confirmation quickened my heart further, flushed the blood from my brilles, and scared me. I shifted my face out of phase of my mind. It turned to a door, behind which things are heard but not seen.

It all felt very dramatic. What they said was, "Is that blood? Such a delectable scent." What made it so vitrifying, though, was how it was said.

She spoke in Käärmkieli.

I was in control — of myself — as she turned my head, and lifted her knife, and licked her tongue at the red line. I didn't shiver or squirm, I didn't squeak, and I held eye with a blue-scaled face half-hidden under a wearable, shifting mosaic that could have been a cloak.

I was in control, but behind my door I shrieked, bile rose in my throat and I threw off the Specter and flew so far away. None of these things happened, but I could imagine them.

My door was shut, and the voice that left my throat was very level as it said, "Please release me. We both serve Highness Ashaine."

"I serve the Highness, yet thou appearest to have more loyalty to these mudly dragons than to the Constellation — than to thine only family. Such a disgrace."

Just above, above the — silver edge, I stared intently at the mess of colors that was her cloak's sleeve, letting it take up my field of view completely. I spoke again, drawling, "Is this an illusionmaster chiding me about appearances?"

The silver returned to my neck, quick. "It is a manner of speaking, my pedant. Thou dancest with my words; for thine actions speak against thee. Or rather, they remain silent; for thou hast done nothing to further our ends. Thou disappointest even thy brother. As is to be expected from such a disgrace."

"What would you have me do? The faer does not trust me." I heard her sniff. "Yet," I added.

"Spoken like no Specter at all. We can scent a bevy of options from even our distant position. Thou hast made no advances with Bariaeth, whom thou knowest holds much power and no loyalty to the faer. Thou hast made no effort to capitalize upon thy relation with the high alchemist's heir — which would be effortless on thy part. Thou art entertaining that vexsome canyon-dweller who stands in way of our plans. Thou seest the faer's brother everyday, and thou hast not even noticed."

"So I haven't rushed my results. I was not aware we had a timetable."

"Indeed thou art not." The Specter dragged their blade along my throat, scraping just shallow enough no blood squirmed forth. It was a continuous thing, their blade dragging steadily and tracing patterns. "Highness Ashaine grows impatient, Kinri. He entrusted thee with thine inheritance, and after all the dancing it took for him to allow thee to keep it, thou hast wasted it."

"Have you come to chastise me only?" I affected my tone, the best I could do to sound bored. I looked around, as if not caring about the deadly blade by my throat, or the trained assassin in killing distance of me. My eyes darted to her cloak, and I contemplated intently the colors. My brow furrowed as I noticed how they seemed… less vivid, almost distorted, compared to the other cloaks I'd seen, in the sky.

She was saying, "No. I have also come to decide whether I should kill thee where thou standest. Or not"

"You–you couldn't. You wouldn't."

The knife under my neck turned, caught a sunbeam and reflected it right at my eye. It shouldn't have worked at all in the shade beneath my muzzle, but that didn't matter so much this close to a lucent Specter cloak. "Oh, thou art correct. I wouldn't make it so quick and boring."

"If–if my brother truly ordered me dead — and he would never — even you wouldn't have made such a game of it."

I felt the blade press deeper. "It is disgusting to listen to such a disgrace pretend to know me. Thou shalt quiet thyself, and I will fulfill my mission."

I said nothing. If I did die here, would I lose so much? Hinte barely considered me a friend, and even Digrif or Uvidet and I aren't close at all. They'd get over me, forget me. Maybe — even the endless stars realized how useless I am.

"Is that defeat in thine eyes? It suits thee." The knife's pressure eased by the smallest. She continued, "We have an immediate task for thee and an immediate reward, something even the Specter with no cloak will find within her minuscule capability." She reached in her robes, grabbing a familiar white crystal. "This is a shard of star-blessèd Stellaine. The very same which was confiscated from thee after thou had vandalized —"

"I told you all it was like that when I found it! For all the things I did that you all couldn't appreciate, I really didn't do this one."

Even as the knife licked me further, I glanced back at her. "I wish I did, though. It was an ugly statue. I just didn't have enough paint. Or any slugs. Or a lightning rod! And therefore I couldn't have — and didn't — do it."

More blood had oozed out from my neck. Instead of the responding, the Specter licked it.

I sniffed. "Could you not? It isn't very conducive to civil conversation." I paused for a second while my frills worked. I gambled with, "I know you're better than this."

"And thy hatchly caterwauling is even less conducive. I tend not to converse with hatchlings hatchlings — they say I'm a poor influence."

There was a time when it would have been natural to counter her words with a false barb like, 'I can't imagine why.' The Specter had made it so easy to fall back into that habit of familiarity. So easy — as if it were a trap.

It had only been cycles; I was still a Specter.

The sky-dweller pulled their head back, a drop of my blood still on their lip. "So why shouldn't I entertain myself? Particularly when you're doing such a disgraceful job of it."

Sniffing, I said, "Why did you come here, Uane? If it's not the chastise me, then tell me why. You've told me the reward, but what's the mission?"

Behind me, Uane grinned; and I could tell so easily, from the pinch of her knife pressing closer, from that twitch in her shadow, from that same pop of her frills flexing, and from that single drop of sweet joy that lighted on her fangs.

It had been gyras. Even knowing what had come before and what came after, it had been gyras. I let her near forgotten scent draw out a smile on my face.

Even knowing what had come before and what came after, I had missed my little sister.

----------------------------------------

Adwyn's frown was waxing deeper, and he cut my story off with a wing. His voice was soft, dangerous. "There is another Specter in Gwymr/Frina?"

I tossed my head without looking at Adwyn. "I don't know! She might be gone by now.

"Yet they were here." Adwyn stood straighter. He said, "Kinri, tell me exactly what is happening, concisely. This is now a matter of Frinan security."

"Uh, you know how you thought I was some kind of Specter agent? Well… that isn't very far from the truth. I had a sort of… mission in coming here. I don't know what they're plotting, but they — my brother wanted me to get the frill of a faer, gain some kind of influence in the land of glass and secrets. It's why I tried to become a secretary or something for Mlaen-sofran."

"So you have been in contact with the Specters?"

"No! This is the first time something like this has happened."

"What is this new order of yours?"

I held my breath. I didn't look at him when I spoke. I didn't speak louder than a murmur. I dragged the words out of my throat like weights, and let them plummet.

I said, "I have to kill you."

* * *