Norgash stood with her arms crossed over a thick, fiery orange robe. It was perhaps the boldest fabric Amo had ever seen, but such fabric surrounded them here. Bright red tail swinging calmly from side to side behind her, Norgash watched Amo with brilliant yellow eyes and red lips flat.

Amo felt the heat of magic rising off the door behind them. Some kind of magic lock? Amo chuckled nervously and stepped away from it, finding themself staring at Norgash. “Hey, we’ve got the same eye color.”

Norgash squinted. “No we don’t. You’ve got pitch in your eyes.”

“Huh?” Amo’s black-flecked ochre probably wasn’t quite a match for the brightness of Norgash’s sunglow eyes. Amo shrugged it off. “Anyway, it’s not like I’ve got some secret identity to hide. Not like you.”

“Oh, I do?” She smirked unkindly. Her huge tail swung with power. It wasn’t an anthral tail, those lengthy, modest banners of long fur. This was a beastly tail, powerful, heavy, its fur tapering to its tip. Its movement stirred the air.

“Not just that you’re Othrizen.” Amo tried to disarm her with a friendly smile, even as the words set out a challenge. “Not even just that you are the mysterious firedancer Norgash. Oh, there’s more, but I’ve got secrets, too. Maybe we can trade.”

Norgash hummed. Her hair moved, hinting at Othrizen ears swiveling beneath her mane. Then she laughed. “Oh, I’m recognized! Now, now, you must be such a fan.” She side-stepped toward Amo, a move a bit like a dance. “What should I do with you, then?”

* * *

Indirk roared, "Don't run from me, Nymir!"

And the worm of a man cried out, "Keep her away from me!"

Outside of the Warring Lands, few of Gray Watch's soldiers ever saw what an infuriated littorn was capable of. Now, they glimpsed the beast of the deepwood inside of Indirk as she ducked her shoulder beneath a desk and sent it flying toward where Nymir stood beside the Commodore and their Foremost guards. The two Foremost fired their crossbows, but one bolt hit the desk and the other flew off mark.

Half-face Mirian, standing still near the fireplace, calmly watched the misfired bolt fly past their head and fall into the blaze behind him.

One of the Foremost pulled the Commodore out of the way of the thrown desk while the other got in front and took the hit, knocked hard to the floor. Indirk rushed past them all, leaping through the air to pounce on Nymir's fleeing form. She threw him to the ground, snarling, "Beg, coward!"

Nymir grit his teeth, shouting in fear, "Someone get her off me!" at the same time that he pulled a fish-gutting knife from his belt and lifted it to stab at Indirk's side.

Laying sideways on the floor, Mardo barely managed to get his chiming orb out of his pocket in time to put its clattering song to work. A simple note of magic, a little bolt of force, sent Nymir's knife flying out of his hand.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

As Nymir grabbed at the air in confusion and desperation, Indirk hauled him off the floor and slammed him down on a desk. He writhed for another moment, and then Indirk pulled her pistol from under her coat and pushed it in his face. "You have no idea."

"Wait, wait!" He grabbed at her arm, but he didn't have the strength to move her at all.

"What I had," she hissed. "What you've ruined."

"Listen to me! I'll tell them to trust you! They'll make you a deal!"

An arm reached around Indirk and a fist grabbed her collar, twisting tight to choke her. She didn't flinch, reaching out to grab the offender by their own collar. Hissing, "If you wanted to stop me you should've brought a littorn guard," she turned to the offender and found herself looking into the face of a well-aged sollin, white-haired and pale-eyed, thin-lipped and smirking.

Hanging from Indirk's fist, the Commodore said, "Feedback duly received, Miss Correlon. I'm afraid I assumed you'd be more reasonable."

Indirk stared, her fury toward Nymir receding so suddenly that it left her light-headed. Then she forgot Nymir completely. As the terrified man wormed out from beneath her, Indirk twisted her fist on the Commodore's collar and moved her pistol to point it in their face. "You caught me on a bad day. Did you have a plan when you grabbed me just now?"

"I'm a negotiator." They let go of Indirk and spread their arms to either side, then let them hang casually.

"You're a murderer." Indirk lifted her voice so the two Foremost could hear her, "If any of you fucks shoot me in the back, I'm pulling the trigger and killing your Commodore. You keep back."

"Why don't you just kill me?" said the smirking Commodore. "What better prize could there be for a spy than to kill the head of state?"

Finally back on his feet, chiming orb held in his hands, Mardo lifted his voice. "She doesn't want that. She'll make a deal, still, I promise you. Make her an offer!"

Indirk snapped, "Shut your damn mouth, Mardo! You don't know me!" She turned back on the Commodore and pushed her pistol against their forehead. "I hate all of you. From the Rhyqir Valley to Nor Sator, I hate you. Running the machine, churning people into blood and money and power so you can just sit on it. You're really so comfortable up there on that bed of death looking down on the rest of us."

The Commodore huffed, "You misjudge me, Miss Correlon."

"I've seen how you live!" She pressed the barrel of the pistol so hard against the Commodore's skin that they twisted their head away from it, and there was a red gouge on their skin. "I've watched you every fucking day for years! So happy with your damn war, just like everyone before you."

"I'm trying to end the war." The Commodore showed their first sign of annoyance, bitterly side-eying Indirk. "Of course, there's only one way to do that. And the daughter of the August Seat of the Warmaker should know that best of all."

Indirk growled and ground her teeth. "You've a million murders on your head. If you're the last person I ever kill..."

"Then kill me. Let my office make rich some other captain. Do you think they'd wear the guilt as well as I do?"

Indirk held her place, snarling. She thought neither about killing nor about sparing the Commodore. She didn't think at all. She tried, with everything she could, to sink into that place inside of her where she was no longer person. She tried to slough her sapience, to let the beast rise so that its instincts could guide her. In the Deepwood, they are told as children that instincts are wise, that their fear and anger are part of the primal heart of the world. But Indirk had long ago put aside that part of herself, and it did not come so readily when called.

Instead, she found herself staring past the Commodore, toward the fireplace. There, the spymaster of Gray Watch still stood so calmly, having taken no step, having lifted no finger. The man with half a face watched her dispassionately, like this was all a play and he the audience wondering how much longer it could possibly go on.

"She's not going to do it." The Commodore snarled, ducking to a side to shout commands past her. "Just shoot her!"