Dawn brought with it a drizzling fog. Cold drops of water dripped through the nearly nonexistent roof. Those who were already awake shook their fellows. There were grumbles, but they shrugged into overcoats and moved their gear below tarps.

Aytin's place near the wall gave him some protection from the rain. It was a small mercy.

The pain had receded. A little, at least. Enough that he had managed to nod off for a few hours.

Nonetheless, the whites of his eyes were shot with streaks of blue. His ears drooped and all he could bring himself to do was stare out into the mists.

They hadn't even tied him up. They hadn't needed to.

Wind blew through the hole in the keep's wall. It sent his half-extended wings fluttering and drew a hiss as the pain renewed. He wanted to furl them, but he knew from experience how badly it would hurt if he tried.

Vertical gashes ran down each wing, ending just shy of their lower edges. Each wound was twice as long as his hand, and swollen with angry bruising around it. Instead of blood, a pale-blue fluid oozed and crusted the cauterized membrane.

Aytin couldn't fly like that.

Even if the wing didn't tear, even if he could stand the agony, he would never be able to get off the ground. There would be no flying away. No escape into the forest. He was tied to the ground more firmly than any chains could hope to manage.

Talons clacked on stone as someone approached. It really didn't matter who. Some of the guards had wandered over to gawk at their crippled prisoner. Aytin had done his best to ignore them.

The figure stopped nearby. After a few moments of silence, he nudged Aytin in the side with his foot.

"You just going to stare out there forever?"

The question wasn't worth answering, so Aytin just grunted. He heard a snort in reply.

"Look, I don't really care. But Xantha told me to make sure you eat. So you're going to one way or another."

A bowl was waved in front of him. The scent of stewed grains and a hint of fat wafted from it. No meat, and the portion was meager; barely enough to live on. Aytin gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the food, but his stomach chose that moment to let out a deep gurgle.

"So, what's it gonna be? Feed yourself? Or will I have to pry your mouth open and dump it down your throat?" When he didn't get an answer the brigand gave him another nudge, this time a little more forcefully. "Well? I'd rather do this the easy way, but somehow I don't think you'd put up much of a fight."

For the first time, he turned to face his jailer. The stocky dragonette was vaguely recognizable as the male who had been at Xantha's side when he first woke up in this hell. He certainly looked like someone capable of tying the younger dragonette into knots. The male reminded Aytin of a shorter, older, and even more muscular version of his brother Stonar.

Outwardly, at least. 'Stonar would have died before joining these traitors.'

Resisting would probably be futile. It could be satisfying, though. Knocking the bowl into the bastard's face. A tiny bit of defiance, to prove at least to himself that he wasn't a coward.

In the end, though, hunger won out. He silently extended a hand, and the other dragonette deposited a bowl full of porridge into it.

"The new boss says you're gonna make us a lot of money," the so far unnamed brigand mentioned casually, as Aytin began to mechanically spoon gruel into his mouth.

When no response came, he went on like they were just a couple of acquaintances discussing the weather. "Personally, I'm not sure you're worth three hundred gold. We probably won't be able to get anywhere near that for the dragon's cargo once we find it. What do you think? How much are you worth to your family?"

Aytin felt the spoon scrape the bottom of the bowl. Despite everything, the meal was good. It helped cut back the gnawing hunger he hadn't even realized was building inside of him.

"Well, I figure Xantha probably knows what she's talking about, seeing as she used to be a noble and all."

Despite everything, a flicker of curiosity rose in the young dragonette. He squashed it, instead offering up the empty bowl.

His captor took it, seeming a little bemused. "You aren't much of a talker, are you?"

"You should have seen him yesterday, Tonin," Xantha said as she approached the pair. "He wouldn't shut up."

"Hells, I heard him last night. He might not be a talker, but he's definitely a screamer." The brigand - Tonin apparently - laughed at his own joke.

Xantha gave a small chuckle of her own. "Oh, that's certainly true. But I take it from the lack of any screams this morning that he ate his breakfast all on his own."

"Every last bite."

"Good. He'll need his strength." She took a step towards Aytin who couldn't suppress the flinch. "Oh, gods, you really are a coward. Listen, since Tonin here says you ate all your vegetables-" The dragonette in question nodded affably. "-I know you've been behaving. And as long as you behave, there won't be any consequences. Got it?"

When Aytin didn't answer, her eyes narrowed. "I asked if you understood?"

At the dangerous glint in her eyes, he gave a small nod.

"Good enough."

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"You sure that we can't just take him with us? He'll probably behave better with you to keep him in line." Xantha raised an eye ridge at Tonin, and he shrugged. "Just seems like it might be easier to drag him along, you know?"

"It's going to be a two week flight if we don't run into any trouble. Then at least a week of negotiation, if we're lucky. Do you want to have to deal with him taking up space on Kalthor's back that whole time? And even the most closed-mouthed settlements along the way will ask questions about him."

Her subordinate seemed to accept the argument at face value. "Fair enough. As long as I get paid, it doesn't mean much to me. And we've got to come back for that dragon's corpse, anyway."

Xantha scowled, and Aytin felt a tiny glow of satisfaction. Apparently they hadn't managed to locate Faelon's body or the cargo he had carried. Even having to go through the black market, the goods he had been carrying were worth enough for everyone in the band to live well for a year. Maybe more, if they had survived the crash in decent shape.

The longer they sat exposed to the elements, the less that these brigands would be able to profit from their murders. That was worth something, at least.

"They'll find it while we're gone. Then we drop him," Xantha nudged Aytin with a foot, "off at Lazon's Rest."

"Or into the ocean."

"Or that." Xantha agreed. "We'll drop him somewhere on the way to find an out of the way keep to pass the winter at."

"Works for me, boss," Tonin said, not really sounding like he cared one way or another.

"Now, Zan is about to get started working on Jenessium. Her wound needs cleaning out, and he'll need help holding her down."

The male stretched in response, coincidentally showing off his muscular form. "I guess I can help with that. Good talking to ya, kid." With an ironic salute, Tonin turned and walked back over to the fire, leaving Xantha alone with Aytin.

She watched as he walked away before speaking. "Bush managed to cut her leg to the bone. Zan thinks he can save it, but we might have to drop her off at a settlement along the way. There are a couple with decent healers that won't ask any questions. Not magical, sadly, but properly trained at least."

The brigand leader actually sounded a little concerned for her subordinate. That was a big change from her sadistic mania of the day before. She almost sounded like her old self from the journey.

'Her fake self,' Aytin reminded himself. 'Her mask.'

"Zan's good at what he does, though. Pity he can't come along, but I need someone here I can trust."

"Why?"

It was the first word Aytin had spoken since they had recaptured him. Since Xantha had mutilated him. She raised an eyeridge in surprise.

"Well, that should be pretty obvious, even for you. I can't exactly go running off to the royal guard if someone screws me over."

"No." Aytin shook his head slowly, then raised it to take in the surrounding camp.

"You mean why did I join a trade crew, befriend them, then lead them into an ambush at the edge of the frontier?"

The young dragonette just glared at her.

"Well, it's not exactly the first time we've pulled off this particular plan. Been a few years, but a dragon-load of cargo will last a long time. Especially when you know where all the good stuff is." She pulled a small key from a pouch at her belt. It looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place where he had seen it before.

"Reed kept all the good stuff locked away. But with this, I won't need to find a mage to break the lockbox's enchantments. Those bitches are always expensive."

Now Aytin remembered where he had seen it. Back when he and Bush had gone to the silver mines all those weeks ago. The young trader had used the key to store away their payment for the equipment delivery.

"Now, you did make things a bit more complicated, but it'll all be worth it. Either we get paid twice, or..." She trailed off suggestively, and a bit of the sadistic glee from the night before returned.

Aytin's face must have betrayed the question he wanted to ask, because Xantha snorted. "Don't tell me. You want to know 'Why?'"

His mute nod was enough.

"I'll tell you why. You nobles are all the same. None of you ever did a gods damn thing to earn your place above all the rest of us.

"I fought tooth and talon to get to where you were born to! I joined the guard, hunted down the well connected officers, sucked up to them until I got into the right circles. Found a young noble from House Carnot and got him to fall in love with me. I made it! Understand?!" She grabbed Aytin and shook him violently. "I made it!

"And then the idiot snags his wing on a tree and breaks his back in the fall." Releasing her captive, she clinched her hands into fists and brought her lips back in a snarl.

"His family wanted me gone, of course. They couldn't tolerate someone like me invading their safe little space. But Kesti had hatched by then. Our daughter. They couldn't throw her out as well.

"So they sent us out to one of their keeps. Made me leader of a group of huntresses there and set me up to fail. They second guessed everything I did. Tried to mess with my girls. Sent my huntresses out to meet impossible goals and berated me when they couldn't meet them. All out in the middle of fucking nowhere.

"The only chance I get to see civilization again is arranging a shipment of supplies in the capital. And I get it done with gold to spare! But it was the fucking dry season, so of course there shouldn't have been any storm! You wondered how I got this?" Xantha yanked up her sleeve to expose the burn scar he had seen the first day they met. It was a flowing patch of silvery hide that covered most of the underside of her left forearm.

"The damn alchemist probably knew. Why else would he ask for so much frost powder? Enough that when it got wet, it froze half the cargo solid!

"The fucking Carnot's didn't even have the decency to get a healer for me, even if I got injured trying to save their damn stuff. They just kicked me out. No warning. No consideration for years of work. Just handed me a couple of gold and told me to leave.

"And then they stole my fucking daughter!"

Aytin jerked back as spittle spattered his face. The entire camp went silent, staring their way.

Finally realizing how far she had gone, Xantha twisted to glare at her subordinates. Under her withering gaze, most immediately turned to look at anything else. Once she was satisfied, she returned her attention to the young dragonette in front of her.

"You wanted to know why?" she asked, quieter but with no less malice. "That's why."

"I've never even met a Carnot!" Aytin protested, finally finding his voice.

In response, Xantha grabbed him by the horn and pulled his face close. "Do you think I give a single gods damn shit about that?!"

He found himself thrown back hard and his skull cracked against the stone wall.

"Carnot, Luffin, I got to know enough noble trash to know the truth. You're all the same. Overconfident. Lazy. Worthless. Cowards."

She stalked off, leaving Aytin shaking his head as stars danced across his vision.