“Kaz?” Ija asked, and Kaz blinked open his eyes. He had asked for a little time to think about the new information she’d given him, and she allowed it. He’d been sitting with his back against the wall, eyes closed, for the last ten minutes, and his cousin looked both concerned and mildly irritated as she called to him.

Motioning behind her, she said, “Qhurg needs to fill me on what happened in the den while I was gone.”

Kaz shifted his focus, though it was difficult with Li taking up a large portion of his mind at the moment, and saw that Qhurg was the red-furred male Ija had spoken to so casually on the way down the stairs. The male stood at patient attention, his deep brown eyes calm and intelligent as they flicked between Kaz and Ija. He wasn’t particularly tall or muscular, but the confidence with which he held himself, even in the presence of a powerful female, was unusual.

“Go ahead,” Kaz managed, and Ija blinked in startlement, reminding Kaz that as far as she was concerned, he was her prisoner, albeit one she had chosen to treat kindly. Kaz cleared his throat, grateful that he was still seated, so he was lower than her, which made his words sound slightly less like he was granting her permission.

Reluctantly, he pulled his attention back as Li began to guide Lianhua toward the hidden den. In spite of the winding path Ija had led them down, they weren’t actually that far from the Goldcoat caverns. Taking shortcuts down unknown tunnels was risky, but Kaz was certain they had crossed their own path more than once, so if Li could use his memories to take the correct turns the first time, his rescuers should be here soon. The sensation of someone else flipping through his memories was distracting, but not as much as worrying about Li had been.

He stood, bowing his head so it remained lower than both Qhurg’s and Ija’s. “What should I do?” He chafed at resuming his subservient pose, even for a cousin who had treated him well, but he knew this would be necessary when he chose this path. He was certain he never would have found this den without guidance, and any Magmablades he questioned would never have revealed its existence. That meant guile was better than force, at least for now. Plus, he had far more experience at pretending to be something he wasn’t than in using violence to get his way.

Ija actually looked conflicted, so Kaz let his tail wag gently as he suggested, “I’m good with puppies. I could help Sika with them.” That would also allow him to protect the little ones when Lianhua and the others got here.

To his surprise, Qhurg looked unhappy at this suggestion, his ears folding back even as Ija looked intrigued. “It’s dangerous,” the male growled softly. “We don’t know him, and Chix-”

Ija hesitated, eyeing Kaz. “He can’t get out without help, and Sika is strong. If he tries anything, she can stop him.” Her words held an overtone of warning, and Kaz tucked his tail in response.

“I would never hurt a puppy,” he said, meeting her eyes, and whether she heard the sincerity in his voice, or saw it in his gaze, Ija nodded.

“All right,” she said, and held up a hand to stay Qhurg’s objection. There was sad fondness in the look she gave him before turning back to Kaz. “Chix is Qhurg’s little brother, and he’s very fragile. We don’t know why, but sometimes puppies are born weak. Most of them die quickly, but Chix…” She trailed off, eyes shifting away, and Kaz thought there was a great deal there that she wasn’t willing to say.

“I’ll be careful,” Kaz promised. He wanted to look at the puppy’s core more closely, too, and he could well lose his opportunity to do so if they talked much longer.

Ija nodded and turned her back on the hut full of fascinating books that Kaz couldn’t read, and he cast one last, lingering glance behind him before he followed, feeling frustration boil up inside him again. There always seemed to be something preventing him from learning to read, and the next time he had a chance to speak to Lianhua, he was going to put all of them aside and ask her to start teaching him. Surely one or two runes a day wouldn’t take too much time?

Qhurg brought up the rear of the little group, and soon they were passing back through the short tunnel to the base of the stairs. The sound of playful yelps and giggles reached their ears, echoing down the passage, and they were only in the dim tunnel for a moment before emerging into the cavern lit by bobbing little ki orbs. The puppies looked back at them in surprise, and then repeated the performance of last time, bounding and tumbling over each other to be the first to reach Ija.

Ija laughed and reached down to pick up a different puppy, this one a very young female with greenish-blue fur. The puppy’s core was mostly rich gold, but there was a strong ribbon of blue winding its way through as well. She clamped little hands around Ija’s muzzle as the older female pretended she was going to eat the little one’s belly. Giggles interspersed with yelps as they played, before Ija reluctantly placed the pup on the ground again. The little female wobbled on two legs, then shifted back to four, instantly looking more comfortable.

Ija looked over at Sika, who watched this interaction with resigned amusement. The amusement shifted to something like alarm, however, when Ija said, “Kaz is going to stay here with you and the puppies. There are no other adult females who can watch him, and I’ll be busy for an hour or so.”

Sika’s gaze darted toward Chix, then the stairs, as if she wasn’t sure which she was more worried about. Ija gave a small shake of her head, and the two females exchanged a glance before Sika shook her head with a sigh. “As you say,” she murmured.

Ija looked at Kaz. “You’d never be able to get all the way up the stairs before someone caught you, and even if you did, only females can open the door.” Not quite true, and from the shadow in her eyes as she said it, Kaz wondered if she knew, but hoped Kaz didn’t. “Sika was the sister of our grandmother, and was nearly strong enough to become chief herself, so if you do anything she doesn’t like, she’ll stop you and howl for me. And I will not be pleased.”

Her lip lifted from her teeth, and Kaz let himself shrink back again. “I would never hurt a puppy,” he said again, “and the only way out is up the stairs or through the den. Either would be foolish.” He repeated what she wanted to hear, and Ija nodded in satisfaction before motioning for Qhurg to follow her back through the tunnel. Kaz’s eyes lifted to the rough, empty stone above that tunnel, where no arch had yet been carved when the ancients, Diushi or otherwise, stopped work on this staircase.

“You’re here now, so you might as well be useful and help me watch these scamps,” Sika said, and if her voice was slightly shaky with age, it was still commanding.

Kaz turned to look at her, then at the puppies gathered around her. Some of them tried to hide behind her legs, while others, like Gram, stood between her and Kaz, fur raised, looking protective. A few, too small to understand what was happening, were already wandering off, however, chasing after bones or pieces of fur that had been sewn into the rough shapes of fuergar or other small, weak beasts.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Kaz crouched, bringing himself down as close to the puppies’ level as he could, and nodded to Gram. Offering a small yip of greeting, one pup to another, he said, “My name is Kaz. You’re Gram?”

Gram’s eyes instantly went to Kaz’s bare throat, and his blue eyes widened. “You’re a puppy?” he squeaked.

Kaz grinned, letting his tongue loll out, and nodded. “I am. My chief never sent me on a spirit hunt, so I’m still a gatherer.”

Gram drew himself up, puffing out his chest as a few of the other pups began to creep forward. “I’m a gatherer, too,” Gram said proudly. “I just started, but Ija says I’m just as good as the older pups.” He glanced at another puppy and said, “Shoc picked duyu the other day, and it was only because I saw the red nodes that it didn’t go into the soup.”

Shoc glared at Gram. “That was yumao! You just told everyone it was duyu because you wanted to get me in trouble!”

“Did not!” Gram yelped, lunging at the bigger puppy. The two rolled away in a flurry of teeth and fur, but Sika just shook her head.

Looking down at Kaz, the old female spoke wistfully. “You remind me of your mother.”

Slowly, Kaz stood, and the puppies who had been warily watching him scattered, most returning to whatever they had been doing before he came in. Only Chix remained, little fingers clinging to the fur of Sika’s legs.

“Rega?” Kaz asked, and Sika nodded as easily as if that confirmation didn’t shake Kaz’s world once again. Kaz cleared his throat, but his voice was rough when he said, “I thought Oda was my mother.”

Sika sighed, leaning down to pat Chix. Her back popped several times as she did so, and she grimaced in pain. Straightening back up, she reached into the pouch at her waist and extracted a small ball of moss, which she popped into her mouth. The shape of the fronds and the distinctive purple color allowed Kaz to identify it as zhitong, which worked as a pain-killer when used correctly, but could easily kill if a patient was given too much. This seemed like a large dose for a female Sika’s age and size, and Kaz frowned.

The old kobold chuckled. “You look a great deal like Ghazt, but I know that look. Rega gave Mother the same one when she came back from her training and found Lizha taking zhitong. I’ll tell you what my mother told yours.”

She set her expression in a scowl and said, “Let an old kobold have what relief she can find. If I take too much, that’s my business, and at least I’ll finally get some rest.”

Kaz blinked, then managed to laugh and ask, “So you knew Rega and Ghazt? Oda, too?”

Sika obviously saw through Kaz’s attempt at nonchalance, because she looked down at Chix, then called, “Gram! Chix needs to rest. Take him to his bed.”

Gram broke off from his scuffle with Shoc, both of them sending puppy growls at each other as Gram backed away. Finally, Gram spun and ran back to Sika, tail and ears high and triumphant, even as Shoc looked just as proud while approaching a pair of young females who were playing together.

Gram took Chix’s hand, letting the frail gray pup lean on him as they walked off toward a side of the cavern where Kaz could see a few small piles of moss. That must be where the puppies rested when they got too tired to play any longer, and Kaz couldn’t help but wish he’d had something similar when he was little. He had often fallen asleep directly on the stone floor, and he was always cold and a little stiff when he woke.

Turning so she could lean against the wall and watch the puppies at the same time, Sika said, “Of course I knew them. I’m the healer for females, and Rega was under my paws more often than not, excited as a fuergar in a patch of tanuo. My mate was a Woodblade by way of the Woodclaws, so when she was old enough, I got the Woodblade healer to train her. In a way, I suppose it was my fault that she ever met Ghazt at all.”

She barked softly at two embattled males whose bites were becoming a little too serious, and they broke off, walking stiff-legged around each other as they glared. Sika shook her head, but her voice was fond when she continued speaking. “When she got back, Ghazt was all she could talk about. He was a great artist, but also a strong warrior, and he was so kind and smart. It took a bit to work up the courage to ask if she could take him as mate, but her mother agreed, so Oda was sent to make the offer.”

“Ghazt was supposed to be Rega’s mate?” Kaz asked, shocked.

“That was the plan,” Sika said, voice turning melancholy, “but Oda… She was always a difficult pup. By the time she was born, her oldest sister, Guil, had already been chosen as the next chief. Vega, Oda, and Rega were only meant to support Guil, and their mother both ignored them and allowed them too much freedom.

“Vega was enough older that she didn’t spend much time with the other two, but Oda and Rega were close, at least when they were young. Rega was always gentle and quiet, while Oda was a Magmablade through and through. As they got older, Rega made friends as easily as breathing, but even then, Oda was headstrong and selfish. She grew more and more jealous of Rega, so after Guil died on her spirit hunt, Rega announced that she would be a healer, and had no interest in being chief. As soon as she became an adult, she went to live with the Woodblades, where she was finally able to be herself without fear of Oda’s spite.

“But when Rega’s training was complete and she returned, it was like the two sisters had returned to their youth. During Rega’s absence, Oda had finally found her own place in the tribe, and without Rega there to compare herself to, it seemed to be enough. They were all but inseparable again, until Rega told her mother that she wanted to take Ghazt as her mate and join the Woodblades.”

Sika sighed and shook her head. “Oda wanted Rega to stay, and she was furious when she found out their mother had approved the match. By then, it was obvious that either she or Vega would be chief, and Oda demanded that she take the offer to the Woodblades as a sign of respect. She was always scheming, but I truly believe that she simply meant to sabotage the trade, rather than taking Ghazt for herself.

“Unfortunately, as soon as she saw Ghazt, she decided she wanted him for herself, so she pretended the offer was from her, not Rega. She thought that if the Woodblades wanted the prestige of having a great chief’s daughter take Ghazt as mate, it wouldn’t really matter which daughter it was. But Oda didn’t know that among the Woodblades, the opinions of males were as important as those of females. Ghazt had been waiting for an offer from Rega, so he turned Oda down flat.”

Kaz could imagine the scene all too well. A young Ghazt, excited and ready to accept an offer from the female he cared for, only to be surprised by an entirely different one. Many males might have accepted the change, would even have been glad to have a stronger, higher-ranked mate who might someday be chief, but Ghazt wasn’t that type. How disappointed and angry must he have been, and what might he have said when he denied Oda to her face?

“I think that was the moment it all went wrong,” Sika said, eyes fixed on Gram and Chix, who were now curled up together on a messy pile of moss. “Oda began to find reasons to be anywhere Ghazt was. And then, of course, Vega found out that her chief rival was courting the son of the Woodblade chief, someone who would outrank her own mate, and she decided to do something about it.”

A dark premonition filled Kaz as Sika’s voice fell abruptly silent. He looked over to see that her lips were clamped tightly shut, and she pushed away from the wall, refusing to look at him. Clearly, she had said something she didn’t mean to, and decided it was time to find something else to do.

“Sika!” Kaz called after her, sensing that his time to speak to her while she thought of him as a future member of her tribe was growing short. Li and the others were approaching, and when they arrived, anything could happen.

Reluctantly, Sika glanced back at him, and Kaz asked the one question he truly needed an answer to. “Are you certain Rega was my mother? Not Oda?”

Sika chuffed a laugh as she patted one of the little females on the head. “Of course. I was the one who delivered you, after all.”