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@WillowWhisper Added! :) And that's so kind of you to say, thanks! I will try my best to live up to your expectations, haha.

[center][b]Chapter 9: The Kindness of Strangers, Part 2[/b] @LagMonster @Khoshekh @Twelvewishes @Stormsinger @starslang @Scyras @excessnight @pensandink @Solaristigres @Nihilo @WillowWhisper [size=2](disclaimer: I think I have the flu and possibly should not be trying to write at the moment)[/size] [/center] It would have been about a week’s walk over rough terrain – their destination was the very westernmost island, and the icepack always did strange things so close to land, piling up in erratic ways. It had taken two days of struggling over the daunting landscape for Clementine to propose an alternative route, and another before Shrike reluctantly agreed. Which was how the two of them came to be careening into Daedalus’ Outpost – one fledgling tundra who hadn’t quite gained control of her wings, and one fae with even less mobility, clinging desperately to the larger dragon’s back like an invalid. Humiliating didn’t even begin to cover it – she should be the one taking care of Clementine, not the other way around – but she had to admit this way had been much faster. Especially they’d been restricting travel to the night hours to spare Clem’s eyes. The tundra was coming in for the landing a little too quickly, and there was nothing Shrike could do but her fingers tighter into the golden fur and brace for impact. Clementine hit the platform with a [i]whump[/i], folding her wings in an ungainly fashion and looking very proud of herself. Shrike glided to the ground with no small amount of relief. Their arrival had attracted a few curious glances, but the onlookers quickly lost interest and moved on. Maybe it wasn’t that unusual for a species as small and weak as fae to hitch rides, although that didn’t make her feel any better about it. Clementine was standing very still with her mouth hanging slightly open. Shrike was about to ask her if anything was wrong when the young tundra suddenly burst into action. “There are [i]so many dragons[/i] here, Shrike,” she squeaked, bouncing from foot to foot as if she could barely contain herself. “And they all look so different!” Wide-eyed, she watched a pearlcatcher walk past; the dragon gave them a slightly scandalized look and began walking a little faster. “Just wait until you see an imperial,” Shrike replied, amused. “I’m going to look around for what we need. You can go look around, but stay on the platform for me. Don’t touch anything that’s not yours, and don’t bother anyone who doesn’t seem like they want to talk to you, ok?” She was suddenly realizing that Clementine had never even seen another dragon except for her - this all must be a bit of a shock. But she seemed pretty unperturbed as she grinned at her and nodded before frisking into the market, looking more excited than Shrike had ever seen her. Hopefully she had the social skills to match her enthusiasm. Shrike was trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she glanced around the bustling marketplace. The world was so much [i]bigger[/i] now; easy to forget when it was just her and Clem out on the ice, but not so much now. Dragons that she should be able to look in the eye wouldn’t even see her now unless they were looking down. If she wasn’t careful she might even get stepped on. Maybe by the big male mirror over by one of the stands, for instance. It was hard to ignore the bitter taste of envy as she spotted him; that was how she was supposed to be: powerful limbs and sinewy body, defined by the strength of her muscles and the sharpness of her teeth. But now was not the time to dwell on that. “Excuse me,” she called out as she approached the mirror – might as well seize the opportunity now. The bigger dragon had to glance around a bit before he noticed her. “Hello,” he replied as he peered down at her, friendly but bemused. “Can I help you?” “Yeah. Maybe, anyway. I know this is a bit of an odd question, but do you happen to know about any big mirror packs passing through here recently? I’m looking for one in particular. The Polar Night. You might have heard of them.” She hadn’t really noticed how flat her fae inflection was until the stranger had started speaking, and now the sound made her wince. She saw a look of confusion pass over the mirror’s face – [i]why was a fae looking for a mirror pack[/i]? – but then he just shook his head. “Sorry. The name sounds familiar, but I don’t know anything else about them. I’m just here with my family.” The dragon flashed a goofy smile in the direction of the pretty female mirror he’d been standing next to. “Maybe try asking some of the shopkeepers? They probably know the area.” She thanked him and went on her way. After a quick glance around to make sure Clementine wasn’t getting into trouble – the tundra was chatting animatedly with a few others of her kind, easy to spot with three of their four storm seekers perched on her back – Shrike turned her attention to the vendors. There were all manner of things for sale here, which was surprising for a little trading post at the edge of the world, but what she really needed was a clothing booth. Her little satchel held a depressingly small amount of coin, but there should be enough to buy a hat or helmet or something to protect Clementine’s eyes. It definitely wouldn’t hurt to look around first, though. A booth off to her right caught her eye, and she wandered over, glancing over the selection of arcane items for sale – battle stones and potions, fertility amulets and…oh. The sight of the breed-change scrolls hit her like a punch in the gut. There, right on top, was a neatly rolled scroll with a mirror’s head lightly sketched on its surface. Mocking her. The answer to all her problems, and so far out of her price range she didn’t even want to think about it. “Excuse me, [i]mademoiselle,[/i] I think you may have dropped this?” The voice startled her out of her trance. Behind her stood an elegant spiral in a plumed hat, holding up a satchel that looked very familiar. “Oh. Thanks! I didn’t even realize I dropped it!” “No problem,” the spiral replied smoothly, passing it back to her. “Might want to keep a closer eye on it, though. Not every dragon is quite as virtuous as I am.” She smiled, and the expression was so charming that Shrike couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ll definitely take that under advisement.” The bigger dragon laughed – a pleasantly rich sound – and moved a little closer to the wares Shrike had been gazing so wistfully at. “Breed-change scrolls, huh? Not something I would go for, personally. I had a cousin who thought it might be fun to turn himself into a coatl – poor fellow had a [i]terrible[/i] headache afterwards, and he’s still having trouble re-learning draconic.” Shrike wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but the spiral spared her. “No, don’t feel too bad for him. My cousin is a pompous brat.” “Sounds like he had it coming, then,” Shrike remarked with a grin. [i]That was mean. Did I have it coming? No. I don’t think so. [/i] The spiral grinned back and extended a slender foreleg. “I think he most likely did. My name is Chime, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She said it like it really [i]was[/i] the best thing to have happened to her all day. “Shrike,” the fae replied, grasping the hand in her much smaller one to shake it. “Nice to meet you, too.” She was trying not to stare at the spiral’s tail, which was rippling slowly in the air above them. Like the other spirals she’d met, Chime was in constant motion – unlike them, however, there was nothing erratic in the way she moved. There was something more controlled and graceful about her, more like a rippling wave or a gust of wind than the jerky coiling Shrike had come to expect from her species. It wasn’t unpleasant to watch, actually. “Well, I should let you get on with your shopping in peace,” Chime said, excusing herself. “Keep a tight hold on that bag of yours, yes?” “Will do,” Shrike murmured in reply, a little distracted. What had she been about to do? Hat for Clem. Right. She called the tundra over and made for an apparel booth she’d spotted, at the very edge of the platform. “Ok. We’re looking for something that will keep some sun out of your eyes. A hat would work…a helmet, dark glasses…oh, and nothing too expensive, Clem. I don’t have a ton of money.” The tundra’s face fell a little bit as she put down the shiny gold bracelet she’d been admiring. Shrike began rifling through the various clothing items set out on the boulder. “What about this?” [center][img] http://i1383.photobucket.com/albums/ah298/fr_cerastes/hat_zpsccwsuoav.png[/img][/center] Clementine glanced at it, considering. “Um. Let’s keep looking, maybe.” Shrike had scarcely put the hat back on the pile when the shopkeeper popped up at her elbow. “Hello!” Shrike peered down – actually [i]down[/i] – at the tiny fae, who was maybe half her size. So she technically [i]could[/i] have been even worse off with the breed-change incident. “Can I help you find anything?” His frills moved in a subtle but complex way; he was clearly annoyed at something, but not at her, and was trying to forget about it so he could do his job. [i]Wait. How in the gods’ names do I know that?[/i] She unconsciously mirrored the gesture, and the shopkeeper frowned at her, confused. “Sorry,” she mumbled, forcing her frills to lie back down. “And, um, yes. I’m looking for something to protect her eyes?” Her voice may have sounded flat to her, but compared to the total atonality of the other fae’s voice, it was almost lilting. He fluttered his wings for a moment, looking puzzled, before turning back to his pile of goods. “Ah, the curse of the non-iceborn,” he buzzed, fans twirling sympathetically. “A common problem. This would be my recommendation…” The little dragon extracted a pair of tinted goggles, crafted from some burnished golden metal. “Ooh,” Shrike heard Clementine exclaim softly. The goggles would work perfectly, but she had a sinking feeling that they would be quite a bit more expensive than a hat. “How much?” The fae gave her a figure, less than Shrike was expecting but still almost as much as she had left. The tundra really did need something like this, though, so she passed the coin over with a sigh. The shopkeeper helped Clem fit the goggles correctly, after which the tundra meandered off, looking around at her newly tinted world in wonder. [center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=9704104] [img] http://i1383.photobucket.com/albums/ah298/fr_cerastes/9704104_350_zps3tzxi4pl.png [/img] [/url][/center] “I hope this is not too direct of me, but can I ask you something?” It took Shrike a moment to realize the vendor was talking to her. “Uh, sure. Go ahead.” “What…what exactly happened to your wings?” His fans were gently waving with curiosity and a hint of something that she recognized as concern. Surprised, she glanced down at herself. Her frilly wings were in substantially worse condition than his – they’d gotten pretty scratched up, and were even torn along the edges in a few places. She hadn’t even realized. “Oh. Nothing in particular. Just a little banged up from hunting, I think.” “[i]Hunting.[/i]” The little fae looked mystified. “Wait. You mean to tell me you’re not a caster? You fight with…with claws?” He looked down at his own as if he couldn’t imagine using them as weapons. “Oh yeah. I was raised by mirrors, actually.” It wasn’t a lie, exactly. The fae’s eyes went huge. “Raised by…wait. Is your name Shrike, by any chance?” Taken aback, she could only nod in response. The fae turned to digging through his vest pockets. “I have something for you, then. A note. There was a big mirror pack that came through here a few weeks ago – one of them gave something to me to give to you, if you ever passed by.” His chest puffed out in self-importance as he passed out a much-folded wad of paper. “Here you are.” “Thank you,” she replied, startled. Her pack knew she had survived the exaltation? They were sending her notes? She tried to tamp down the rush of hope as she tucked the note into her satchel; every fiber of her was burning to read it, but now wasn’t the time. Later. In privacy. “I really appreciate it.” “Always happy to do a favor for a fellow fae.” He made a small movement like he had been about to reach out and touch her shoulder, but thought better of it. “You know what? I have something else for you. Wait here.” He zipped away and returned a few seconds later with an armful of armor. Definitely fae-sized. “Oh…no. I mean, thank you, but I couldn’t possibly afford this.” She poked at it with her toe, a little wistfully. It was very nice armor. The vendor shook his head at her. “No, you can have it. On the house.” Shrike started to protest, but he cut her off. “Really. And I’m not just being nice. You know how hard it is to move fae armor? I’ve been trying to sell this for months, and you’re the first I’ve come across so far that could make use of it.” He almost shoved it at her in his eagerness. Shrike argued with him only half-heartedly, and relented quickly; it [i]would[/i] make fighting a whole lot easier if she could defend herself. She was badgered into trying it on then and there; there were imposing wing guards, with large spikes she might be able to use to bash her enemies, and a sturdy wrap for her delicate tail. It felt good to be dressed for battle, fae or not. [center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=9340534] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/93406/9340534_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] “There,” the male fae said, stepping back. “If you want to fight like a mirror, you should at least be equipped like one." "Thanks..." she began, halting when she realized she haven't even asked his name. "Meridian," he replied after a beat. He was distracted, attention focused elsewhere. "Hey! I thought I told you to stay away from my booth!" Shrike was more than a little surprised to see that he was yelling at Clementine, or more specifically, the dragon she was currently giggling with. It was the charming spiral Shrike had met earlier - Chime? She couldn't picture the dragon being anything but likable. What problem could Meridian possibly have with her? Chime didn’t seem very perturbed. “Oh, don’t get your wings in a tangle. I have next to zero interest in you and your deceased birds.” She gave Clementine a sideways look, and the two of them grinned, as if sharing an inside joke. “I wanted to talk to your fae friend here, actually.” She flashed a smile in Shrike’s direction and started towards her. “[i]I mean it,[/i]” the shopkeeper hissed; the threat sounded a little funny in his high-pitched voice. “Don’t come any closer.” Shrike was wondering just how he was planning on backing this up when the clothing-strewn boulder [i]moved[/i]; somewhere a head distinguished itself from the mass and an eye blinked open. What she had mistaken for a large rock stuck in the ice was actually a huge stone-colored guardian. Shrike jumped back, and she could have sworn she saw Chime roll her eyes before moving away, beckoning her to follow. Clementine ambled back over, her eyed huge as she stared at the guardian. “She says she knows where the Polar Night is and can take you to them. I’m not sure what that means, but it sounds important.” Shrike’s heart skipped a beat at the words. “Shrike,” Meridian buzzed, frills moving somberly, “I like you. Chime is not a good dragon. She’s a liar and a thief, and you should not believe a word she says.” Shrike was about to argue with him, when she saw a flash of gold as Chime passed Clementine a very familiar-looking gold bracelet behind the shopkeeper’s back. Maybe more to her than met the eye, then. “Look,” she started, feeling a little guilty to be ignoring her advice after he’d been so kind to her. “I appreciate it, I really do, but she’s the best lead I have.” [i]Her and the note. Still need to read that.[/i] “And it’s not like I have anything worth stealing, anyway.” The fae was still, expression unreadable. “I can’t stop you,” he said finally. “Just watch yourself around her. Be careful.” After assurances that she would be, she left the fae and his giant guardian behind to follow the spiral into the crowd. She was more hopeful than she’d been in weeks, and yet Meridian’s words were still hanging in the air behind her, a breath of menace. [i]Be careful. [/i]

[center][b]Chapter 10: Sleight of Hand[/b] @LagMonster @Khoshekh @Twelvewishes @Stormsinger @starslang @Scyras @excessnight @pensandink @Solaristigres @Nihilo @WillowWhisper [/center] “And then what happened?” Clementine sounded completely entranced with the story. “And then? Our brave, daring [i]héroïne[/i] had actually hidden a very small knife underneath one of her horns, so she was able to cut the ropes and escape from the room before it completely filled up with water. Only to break in again later that night and make off with half the treasure.” “Allegedly,” Shrike added, amused. It was a common theme in Chime’s stories. “But of course,” the spiral purred, flashing her a devious grin. “Allegedly.” Despite Shrike’s misgivings, Chime was proving to be a very entertaining travelling companion. She was a fantastic conversationalist and always full of stories to fill the silence – not just about previous heists she may or may not have had a hand in, but about the many sights she had seen in her travels through faraway lands. Her voice had grown a little wistful earlier, when Clementine had asked her to describe the Cloudsong for them. Her eyes took on a different cast when she talked about the floating city – a little faraway, a little lost – and for a second it was if it Shrike could see the dragon behind the sophisticated mask. That feeling was gone a moment later, though, as Chime finished her story with a joke and slipped easily back into her suave persona. An interesting dragon, and a little closed-off, but Shrike was honestly having trouble [i]not[/i] liking her. Chime was more than open about her past criminal endeavors – [i]alleged[/i] criminal endeavors – which Shrike found strangely comforting, whether or not the spiral was just doing so because she’d already been outed by Meridian. Besides, thieves weren’t dangerous if you had nothing they wanted. [center][img]http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JUtDBTct_0Q/UQlPKIEt-KI/AAAAAAAALEQ/_G9dBj28G44/s1600/snowflake_divider.gif[/img][/center] Clementine [i]still[/i] hadn’t noticed that she’d neatly slipped the gold bracelet off her foreleg. Again. Chime tapped the tundra with it, grinning as she watched her eyes widen in surprise. “How do you keep doing this? I thought I was keeping both of your hands in sight this time!” “The Windsinger giveth, and the Windsinger giveth away,” Chime quipped as she handed the bangle back. “It’s just sleight of hand. You might think you’re watching me closely, but all I need to do is draw your attention away for one second, which lets me just…” She pulled back a bit, letting the bracelet dangle once again from her hand. Clementine made a sound somewhere between disbelief and delight. They’d only been travelling together for half a day, but Chime was genuinely enjoying the tundra’s company; Clementine was kind but not stupid, which seemed to be a rare combination of traits these days. She might make a good thief, even, with some training and a recalibration of her moral compass. Not that Chime would be getting too attached, though – this was just a job like any other. “How far away did you say they were, again?” she heard Shrike ask gruffly over the meal she was preparing. “Not sure,” Chime replied cheerfully, “I just know which direction they were headed. They’re going to be following a pretty haphazard path after the charger herds, so if we cut straight across I imagine we can catch up in a week or so.” “Good.” The fae was quiet, and didn’t say another word as she passed them food and gathered their things, so that they could start forward again across the ice. It would be smoother going once they got to the mainland, but for now they were hopping from one island to the next. Chime wasn’t sure she was exactly cut out for this trekking business. She hung back a little with Clementine, letting the smaller dragon get comfortably out of earshot before she spoke. “Is she always so, ah…child-of-the-Icewarden?” The question prompted a frown from the gold dragon; Chime could read the concern in her eyes even through the goggles. “No. She can be a little serious, but not…I think something’s upsetting her. The last time she was like this was after that big wooden monster…” Chime’s interest sharpened. “Big wooden monster? Intriguing.” “You’d have to ask her about that,” Clementine replied, waving it off distractedly. “I think it might be that note, this time.” “Note?” [i]What note? How didn’t I notice a note?[/i] Clementine paused for a beat, as if she wasn’t sure if she should have said anything. “…Yeah. That mirror shopkeeper handed to her back at the outpost. I know she read it this morning while you were off buying supplies…and she’d been kind of weird ever since.” Chime couldn’t recall a mirror shopkeeper, but there was no reason to doubt the story. This was just getting more and more interesting. Chances were that the note had nothing to do with her, but there was also the possibility that whatever was in the note could jeopardize her task. If she had to trudge around in this godforsaken wasteland, she was going to get the payment promised for delivering the dragon to her family. [i]And if everything goes right, the reward will be greater than any amount of treasure.[/i] The three of them continued across the precarious landscape, sometimes picking their way through the ice, sometimes flying; Shrike, Chime noticed, never flew, but instead elected to ride on Clementine’s back. Curious. Her wings might be a little ragged but they [i]looked[/i] functional enough. “I think we can probably make the coast by tonight,” Shrike called from up ahead, sounding pleased. Chime hoped she was right, and hoped that travelling over tundra would be better than travelling over ice. She knew that there were dragons who lived their whole lives on the floes, but she could not comprehend [i]why[/i]. “Good news,” she called back, wincing as her foot unexpectedly broke through a thin crust. What she wouldn’t steal to be back on a Cloudsong veranda right now. [center][img]http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JUtDBTct_0Q/UQlPKIEt-KI/AAAAAAAALEQ/_G9dBj28G44/s1600/snowflake_divider.gif[/img][/center] Shrike said they’d had a stroke of luck; Chime was less than thrilled. They’d come across an old mauler den, carved into the rocky cliffs that delineated land from frozen sea. It was clean, roomy, and long-abandoned, but it was essentially a hole in the ground. Which Shrike and Clementine wanted to sleep in for the night. Lovely. The two of them were happily exploring the den, picking sleeping quarters; their little flock of storm seekers looked content as well, huddled up together as they perched on a stone ledge. Didn’t any of them realize it was [i]freezing[/i]? “So…are we going to light a fire or something?” Shrike made a soft [i]hrrr[/i] that Chime took to be laughter. “A fire? With what? You hiding some firewood under that hat?” Chime pouted. “You may not have noticed, [i]mon ami,[/i] but there is exactly one dragon here who is not iceborn and does not have a nice fluffy tundra coat. I am cold.” “Very sad,” Shrike said, and then relented a second later. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that. It’s still light outside – I can go help you look for some driftwood to burn.” There was an unexpected rush of guilt at this show of kindness, which Chime quickly tamped down. Guilt was the quickest way to ruin a con, and she couldn’t risk that. Not when the stakes were this high. [i]Come on, pull it together, this is nothing you haven’t done countless times. [/i] The two of them returned later with a few armfuls of driftwood bits; Clementine was already asleep in a corner, so they built the fire quietly, Shrike lighting the little pile with the flint and steel she kept in her satchel. Chime thanked her, her coils slithering up to the welcome warmth of their own accord. She curled herself into a neater pile, and the spiral and fae sat in silence for a while, watching the orange glow of the flames. It was Shrike that broke the silence, eventually. “Chime, can I trust you?” The spiral took a moment to consider her reply. Shrike was not an idiot, so she’d avoid an outright lie and settle for a half-truth. “No,” she murmured, “but you have to. This is to our mutual benefit – you get your family, I get paid.” “Right.” Her frills moved for a moment in an emotion Chime wasn’t familiar with. She needed to get better at reading faes. When it seemed clear that Shrike was not going to offer any more conversation for the night, Chime settled down farther in her coils. “[i]Bonne nuite,[/i] Shrike.” And now she would wait. She sat still and silent until the fae’s breathing deepened in sleep, then waited a bit longer just for good measure before carefully rippling over to her. The note wouldn’t be in her satchel – too obvious a hiding place – so Chime carefully began to look through her armor.[i] Quiet as the snow, light as the breeze.[/i] Nothing in the wing guards, but [i]there,[/i] under part of the tail guard, was a promising lump. Chime didn’t dare to breathe as she gently worked the piece of paper free, and then drifted away so the sound of crinkling paper didn’t wake the fae. The note was written in a shaky hand, but it was legible enough in the firelight. [center][i] Shrike, I hope this reaches you alive and well. This note is a risk for me, but you need to be warned. What happened to you was NOT an accident. Do not come after us. Too dangerous for you here. Your friend always, Splinter[/i][/center]