Kanin Fyre: Chapter 30 - Fight or Flight

The days start to pass in a steady rhythm. Each night, Dizzi and I meet back up in the Ruins to go over my spell circle design and Dizzi’s plan for converting the storm arcana into null arcana. Mirzayael and Fyre can’t always meet with us during the day, as they have their own duties to attend to, so Zyneth and I find ways to pass the time. Fyre gives me access to the small library she’s beginning to curate, and when Dizzi is awake (which isn’t often anymore, given our covert nightly meetings,) I let her show off all her inventions in her workshop. It’s a lot more chaotic than Caesius’s workshop, but I don’t think Dizzi is particularly interested in running a business.

When Zyneth isn’t exchanging artificer notes with Dizzi, he seems to enjoy talking to Ollie, which the dragon finds absolutely delightful.

“SORRY I CALLED YOU A DEMON PERSON,” Ollie says to Zyneth when we’re out on one of the dragon’s pavilions. When Ollie isn’t taking up the enormous, shaded platform, I’ve noticed kids repurpose it as a sports arena. His head is resting on the ground so he’s eye-level with Zyneth. “FYRE SAID IT’S RUDE TO REFER TO PEOPLE BASED ON APPEARANCES. I LIKE YOUR EYES.”

Zyneth chuckles. “Thank you. And no apologies needed. I don’t know what you were comparing me to, anyway.”

“OKAY GOOD.” Ollie’s tail happily wags back and forth, stirring up swirls of dust as it drags across the marble. “DO YOU WANT TO GO FLYING WIT ME?”

Zyneth appears entirely unfazed by the change in topic. “I’d love to, but I’m afraid I can’t fly.”

“THAT’S OKAY,” Ollie says. “I COULDN’T FLY WHEN I WAS A HUMAN, EITHER. BUT LOOK!” He turns his head to the side, showing off a few leather bands that are looped around his shoulders and neck spines. “YOU COULD RIDE ON MY BACK. I’VE GOT A SADDLE IN MY ROOM.”

“Then I’d love to,” Zyneth agrees.

Ollie lifts his head with a low rumble. “REALLY? YAY! OKAY I’LL BE RIGHT BACK. DON’T GO ANYWHERE!"

Zyneth laughs as Ollie bounds to his feet. “I won’t!”

We both duck as he whips around and his tail passes dangerously close overhead. The dragon child launches off the platform and coasts out of sight.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask Zyneth. “He seems a little… overeager.”

“Sounds fun,” Zyneth says. “How many people can say they’ve ridden a dragon?”

“Sounds life-threatening,” I reply. “What if the saddle isn’t secured properly? What if you fall? We have different definitions of fun.”

Zyneth just grins. Ollie’s comparison to a demon wasn’t totally off base given what an unabashed daredevil Zyneth has turned out to be.

Luckily, Ollie returns with a lithe dracid woman named Sora, who apparently helped design the saddle and knows how to fit it to his back properly. The kid complains and wiggles as she tightens down the straps, but I think it’s mostly for show. He seems eager to show off his flying abilities.

Sora helps Zyneth up into the saddle, and then all but ties him down to Ollie’s neck. His legs can’t budge an inch, which looks a bit uncomfortable, but also makes me feel a little better about this aerial adventure. I doubt he’d be able to fall if he tried.

And if he did, Ink thinks, we would catch him.

I chuckle. We would.

“READY?” Ollie asks Zyneth when Sora gives them both the OK.

“I believe so,” Zyneth says. “Let’s—”

“GO!” Ollie launches himself off the platform with breakneck speed, causing Sora and I to stumble back from the force of his wind. Ollie’s mischievous laughter chases him into the sky, and he immediately circles into a loop-de-loop before banking off across the valley.

“He always does that,” Sora says with a sigh. “He’s going to chase all our guests away if he’s not careful. That child is going to be a handful in his teenage years.”

“You don’t have to worry about Zyneth, at least,” I tell her. “I bet he asks Ollie to pull some more stunts.” Right then, the dragon passes back into view, spiraling into a barrel roll. “Do you know if he’s going to grow, still? I know his mind is seven, but is he in an adult body, or a seven-year-old dragon body.”

Sora gives me a weary look. “We have no idea. Full sized dragons like Ollie haven’t existed for hundreds of years. We’ve found some old texts that have listed a range of sizes, but no one really knew exactly how old those dragons were, so the best we can do is guess. We only thought to get an exact size measurement on him, from tip to tail, last month, so it will be some time before we know if he’s growing.” She turns to me with a toothy smile. “But that’s parenting, isn’t it? You prepare as best you can, and make up everything else along the way.”

I’ve never been a parent—nor have I really considered it much—but I can relate to that sentiment, anyway. I’ll be doing as much prep work as I can to help the other Travelers, but I’m fully expecting to have to do some improv along the way.

After a half hour of aerial acrobatics, Ollie and Zyneth return to our pavilion. The dragon is heaving tired breaths, but his tail wags happily.

“THAT WAS FUN,” he says, laying his head down so Sora can help undo Zyneth’s restraints. “WANT TO GO AGAIN TOMORROW?”

“Perhaps,” Zyneth says, patting Ollie’s neck. That’s interesting. I thought it would be a resounding yes. “I will if I have time. Thank you for flying me around. That was wonderful.”

Ollie rumbles in what I’m coming to identify as a happy sound, like an enormous cat purr. “YOU’RE WELCOME!”

Zyneth hops down on stiff legs, his hair blown windblown and wild.

I laugh at the look. “You should keep that. Really accentuates the rogue aesthetic.”

He smiles, tousling a hand through his hair—but the smile fades all too quickly.

My soul sinks. “What’s wrong?”

He puts a hand on my shoulder and gives me a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. Talk about it later.” He turns back to Ollie with another big smile. “Now where was this hoard you were telling me about?”

Ollie bounces from foot to foot. “COME ON, I’LL SHOW YOU!”

Ollie leads us to a dragon-sized door in the side of the palace, where it appears a giant ballroom (or two) has been cleared out to be his own personal cave. It seems he’s done some decorating, with smears of paint doodled over the walls, only partially obscuring the gorgeous murals beneath. There’s a giant pile of junk in one corner, which is, apparently, his hoard.

Some sort of dragon instinct? That’s interesting. Does that mean these bodies affect our minds to some extent, too? I suppose that must be the case, given Sandro and Fyre arrived here being able to speak Dunmorish. What does that mean for me, with no body to speak of at all?

Ollie shows us his favorite pieces of treasure, which are mostly glittery rocks and seashells, but also a good variety of armor and weapons. Some of them are rotted through with rust, while others almost appear brand new. Sora tells us visitors have started a tradition of presenting an “offering” to the Fortress’s dragon.

“Sorry I didn’t get you anything,” Zyneth tells Ollie. “I’ll be sure to bring something back for you next time.”

“YAY! THANK YOU.” Ollie nuzzles Zyneth, who attempts to pat his nose without getting knocked over.

One of Ollie’s friends, a young harpy, stops by after that, and Zyneth and I head back up to the main levels of the palace.

“Bring something back?” I ask Zyneth, though I already have a sneaking suspicion what this is about.

He grimaces. “One of my tattoos activated while I was flying with Ollie. I should depart now while we’re still over Valenia.”

Shit. I suspected it was one of his debts. “I’m coming with you.”

“No,” Zyneth says. “You should stay here. We don’t know when Shirasil might be ready for you, and you’d never forgive yourself if you missed your window to free that Traveler—Anika. I can handle this job myself.”

“No way,” I object. I can’t risk losing the opportunity to retrieve Anika’s soul—even if she may already be a lost cause. But I can’t let Zyneth go on another potentially dangerous mission by himself, either. “We can be quick, right? It might not take long.”

Zyneth smiles sympathetically. “We don’t know that. Besides, it’s not like there’s much I can do while I’m here, since I can’t accompany you to the Heavens, anyway. I’ve done dozens of these types of jobs on my own before; I can do it on my own again. Just because we’re in a relationship doesn’t mean we have to do everything together.”

“I think that advice is meant more for hobbies than cases of ‘helping your boyfriend buy his freedom,’” I point out.

Zyneth chuckles. “I suppose you have me there.”

He doesn’t have any counterarguments, but in my soul, I know he’s already won. He needs to reply soon if he doesn’t want the tattoo to start causing him any pain. I have to stay to work with Dizzi and be ready to retrieve Anika with only a day or two’s notice.

Ink is equally bothered by this development. It’s annoyed we’ve already let other members of our pack depart. It does not want to give up any more. If these individuals hold power over Zyneth, then they should be disposed of.

I slump, defeated. “Ink wants you to know we can kill Vardi for you if that helps.”

Zyneth laughs. “I appreciate the offer, Ink, but that won’t be necessary. After Yedzaquib’s disappearance, I expect I won’t be hearing from her for quite some time. I only owe her one last debt, and I doubt she wants to lose her sway over me anytime soon, so she’ll probably save it until she’s desperate. No, this time it’s for Clement.”

“Ink says we could kill him, too.”

Zyneth only gives a grimacing smile this time. “I should probably go to the docks now and investigate their planned departures.”

“Alright,” I say, resigned. “I’ll walk you there.”

We haven’t even been here a week, and already he has to leave. I feel bad about dragging him all over the world since we left Simora. I guess we lucked out that we made it this long without any of his employers calling him in before now. I knew he only had a couple jobs left before he’s free from the rest of his debts, but I assumed I’d be there to help make them easier. He shouldn’t have to do this alone.

Then again, I bet he feels much the same about me.

Man, how did we get here?

Zyneth speaks with a group of temporary visitors who plan to depart before dusk, and agree to take him on. Zyneth heads back to our room, packs up his few belongings, and then we inform Fyre and Mirzayael of his departure. I think Mirzayael is even a little disappointed; I know she’s been itching for a rematch.

The rest of the hours between now and then pass far too quickly. Before I know it, I’m walking him back down to the docks.

“Be careful,” I tell him.

“I can promise I’ll be more careful than you,” he teases.

I shake my head. “Not reassuring. That’s a low bar.”

Zyneth stops abruptly to pull me into a hug, leaning his head against mine. Wordlessly, I squeeze him back.

“Make it back in one piece,” he tells me, pulling away.

I snort. “Have you seen me? I’m already in about a hundred different pieces.”

He smiles wryly. “Make it back in enough pieces we don’t need to make another trip to Caecius’s workshop.”

“Alright, that’s something I can commit to.” I take his hand as we finish our trek to the dock. “You be careful, too, okay? Make it back here soon.”

“I will,” he promises.

My soul aches as I watch him board the airship, and Ink paces in distressed agitation within my mind.

#

“Kanin?” Dizzi snaps her fingers. “Hey, you with me? Or is this Ink? Kanink? Do you guys go by that? Missed opportunity if you don’t.”

I wrench my attention back to Dizzi. “Sorry, what? I was distracted.”

I can’t make out her eyes behind the bug-eyed goggles she’s wearing, but her grin is apparent enough, even in the dark. “Yeah, no kidding. What’s on your mind? Besides a monster.” She snickers before stopping herself. “Sorry. Was that insensitive?”

Kind of refreshing, actually. The young harpy is sort of like if Rezira’s snark and Noli’s enthusiasm got thrown in together. With maybe some of Zyneth’s artificing dumped in as well.

My amusement fades as I think of Zyneth. “It’s nothing important,” I tell her. “I was just wondering how Zyneth was doing. He should have landed a few hours ago.”

Dizzi, who’s crouched rather bird-like over the spell circle drawings we have spread over the stone between us, sits back on her haunches. “Wow. It’s got you bad, huh?”

“What?” I ask, legitimately not following.

“Your boyfriend!” she cries, perhaps a little too loud, as she immediately drops her volume. “He’s been gone for four hours and you can’t stop thinking about him.”

“It’s not like that,” I say, equal parts annoyed and embarrassed. “He’s doing something dangerous. I think I’m allowed to worry.”

“Uh huh.” Dizzi puts her elbows on her knees and rests her chin on her hands. “Alright, spill.”

I tip my head. “Spill what?”

“Your feelings! Whatever’s bugging you,” she says. “Come on, you’re going to be a useless lab partner until you get this off your chest.”

“I’d rather not,” I say. I hardly know the harpy, and ‘feelings’ aren’t exactly a subject I’m particularly thrilled to discuss anyway. “We should get back to the mana filter plan you were talking about. What—”

“Nuh uh,” Dizzi says, shaking her head. “Stupid romance stuff first. Then work.”

Ink scowls at the developing conversation. It agrees this romance stuff does seem to be stupid. If I’m going to make it experience all of my uncomfortable emotions again, Ink would rather go do something more interesting.

Before I can object, void spills out my coat and reforms nearby, mostly amorphous without my glass to give it a shape to form around. Dizzi watches with complete fascination as the blob of void lopes off, and for a brief moment, I consider escaping with it.

Of course, Ink is still in my mind, but it’s turned its full attention toward the volume of void it’s using to go slinking around the area, as if the distraction can drown me out. It’s a valiant effort, anyway.

“So cool,” Dizzi wistfully sighs.

“You don’t have to live with it.” But I’m amused by her admiration more than anything. She’s an odd one, that’s for sure.

Dizzi turns her attention back to me. “So! What’s bugging you?”

She really won’t let this go, will she? “I don’t know what you want from me.”

She gives an exasperated sigh. “Are you in love?”

Now is one of the few times I’m happy to no longer have a face. “I don’t know,” I snap, a little defensively. “What does it mean to be in love, anyway?”

“You don’t know?” Dizzi raises her hands defensively, as if she can sense the mental glare I’m leveling at her. “Hey, no judgement, I’m not entirely sure, either. Never been in love, myself.”

“You haven’t?” I asked, a little surprised. She’s so personable and outgoing, I find that hard to believe.

Dizzi shrugs. “Not really a priority for me. Maybe someday it would be nice, but if it doesn’t happen, that’s alright too. I’m happy with my life either way—I mean, I live in a flying city, for crying out loud! How cool is that?”

I find myself relaxing a bit as I chuckle. “Pretty cool.” I chew on her words for a moment; I guess I hadn’t ever really considered relationships a priority before, either. I mean, hook-ups were fun and all, but I’d never really connected on an emotional level—at least, not before Zyneth.

I recall something else he said as I’m thinking about it. “Is a year a long time to not know if you love someone?”

Dizzi shrugs. “I dunno. Probably longer than most. Maybe you’re aromantic—or demiromantic. That’s kind of what I figure I am. Those feelings take a long time to develop, or only happen once in a blue moon, or maybe never at all. But hey, does it matter?” she adds. “As long as you’re happy being with the person you’re with, who cares what those feelings are called?”

It’s kind of nice to know I’m not weird for struggling with this. “Yeah. Well, thanks for talking about it with me.” Even if she did most of the talking. I tip my head. “You’re not like some kind of councilor, are you?”

Dizzi grins, starlight twinkling in her goggles. “Just your friendly neighborhood scientist. Now! Ready to get back to it?” As if she wasn’t the one to pause our work in the first place. “I’ve got an idea for the storm mana adapter. I think I can funnel it into a collection cube first, then redirect it into a spell with no specific arcana field requirement. We can then use that to power an inefficiently designed null-type spell, and you could collect the ambient mana radiating from that to power your spell circle. Or stick it in a collection cube of your own. It’s a bit of a process, and we’re going to lose a lot of mana from start to finish, but by the end it should be compatible with the arcana type you need. I’m calling this whole system a mana refiner.”

Back to business, I guess. “Sounds like it’s worth a shot. But let’s call it something else. I don’t like that term.”

Dizzi tips her head, perplexed. “Oh, uh, sure. A filter, then?”

“That works.”

“Great!” She dives back into the schematics. “So here’s what I’m thinking…”

I offer suggestions where I can, but her arcana knowledge is leagues ahead of my own. As she sets about designing some spell circles for her work, I go back to the Dimensional Bridge spell circle, which I slowly and carefully started to trace out over the ground. It’s far from complete, but we’ve got time.

I hope.