“Sazys was a pig. I’d almost have paid more for the destruction of his mansion if it hadn’t robbed Born of a valuable agent. But you did get the regalia, and I have the agency for the minor defiance of handing over this,” Krask said, holding out a folded paper with a wax seal and an imprint on one corner.

  “Ah… so the guy we stole from died?” Zia tried to sound surprised. She thought she’d succeeded until Krask raised an eyebrow and turned to Drexl.

  “We set him on fire.” Well thank you for the “we” I guess, but we could have blamed knocking over a candle or something. I mean, we kinda did, I was being a candle and then we set Sazys on fire. We. Not just me.

  “And why did you set him on fire, Drexl?” Oh good, the heat’s off me. Shame about Drexl but she’s done her part for this. Speaking of doing their part…

  “Zidrist, what was Sazys doing in his chambers?” Zia interrupted Drexl’s straightforward explanation to ask. “You were supposed to be distracting him.”

  “There’s only so much I can do to distract someone by calling them to the Church of Izkarzon when one of his house servants reports that someone knocked one of his butlers unconscious. And he had a knife. You said I wouldn’t be in danger, but his hand was straying to his waist when he was distracted.”

  “As I was saying,” Drexl cut in, “We set him on fire in self-defense. He was threatening us with the knife Zidrist mentions, and Zia, being a competent fire sorcerer—” I’m more than competent, thank you. I did set an entire man on fire. And his mansion. Maybe powerful applies more than skillful but that’s just a different competence. “—and so he was cinders before he hit the ground.” I missed some of that.

  Indulging some voyeuristic or self-righteous urge, Zia asked, “What made Sazys a pig?”

  Krask waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, he had no interest in passing along his wealth, so he treated women like he treated men. Poorly. Self-important dunderhead got what he deserved, death by fire is a terrifying way to go.” I really don’t like the gleam in her eye as she says that. I think I’ll look at this letter that Born left for us. He really could have just given it to us. To the Royal Society member—ooh, I like sound of that. Royal. Society. I like those things—known as Analytical Prowess, I, Dear Born of Dragold, commend and request aid to Zia’s Heirrors—that’s neat, we’ve got a little title now. We’re real adventurers, we’ve got a title—in their search for the lineage of the dragon formerly known as Izkarzon. I know you know a Historian or two, however tenuously—what’s a Historian? Zia looked up from the letter and saw that one of Krask’s choral singers was facing her very directly. She cocked her head, and when the choral singer smirked, she pressed the letter to Drexl, probably crumpling it in the process but there was someone to make out with and priorities were priorities.

  The choral singer was slender and fair, with long dark blond tresses and her white robe. Her lips were of greatest interest to Zia, seeing they were slightly thin but pink and cutely bowed, but she took the time to note that her eyes were an enchanting shade of hazel which looked almost amber in the lighting of Krask’s office. It was a mere afterthought that she was a wane. Zia followed her look to a side door, and followed her into what looked to be a records closet. Her soft soprano hushed, the singer said, “You killed Sazys and you’re a fire sorcerer. That alone speaks volumes.”

  Through the door of the closet, Zia heard what sounded like Zidrist trying to negotiate terms on the letter. That’s silly, it’s already written and sealed, we can hardly—hmmft! Zia’s train of thought was obliterated by the singer’s lips being pressed to hers, slightly cool to the feel. One of her hands cupped Zia’s jaw, the other wrapped around her waist and drew Zia close. She was grateful for the modifications to her father’s armor, they hid her more masculine attributes—though if her hand strays to my throat there’s not much to be done about my—again her train of thought was cut off by the singer’s tongue lapping at her lips. I’m not making out with someone I don’t know the name of again. Breaking off that kiss, she whispered, “I’m Zia. Which you know. What’s your name?”

  “Tixik. Why do you ask?”

  “Personal rule about learning the names of people I make out with.” Tixik shrugged, as though Zia were being the weird one. “Is it that hot that I killed Sazys with fire sorcery?” She grinned, hoping to incite a recitation of her virtues compared to the thug she had slain. You know, I’m not sure how I feel about having killed even a bad person… but Tixik was talking.

  “—absolutely enough to make me feel glad he’s dead. So yes, yes it is. Now stop talking and start kissing me!” Her whisper was strident and without waiting she once more pressed her lips to Zia’s and seamed her mouth before slipping her tongue into Zia’s mouth. When her tongue withdrew, she pulled Zia’s lower lip into her mouth, and applied a gentle pressure and touch. You know, I think I really do have no more pressing questions, and I do like being made out with.

  When Zia emerged from the closet some minutes later—Tixik would slip out later, they agreed—she saw her absence had been noted by the collective stares of the Heirrors and Krask. Should I be thinking “Madame Krask”? Drexl holds her in high esteem.

  “As we were saying,” Zidrist said after a pregnant pause, “the letter will have to do as is, then. If you’re absolutely certain Dear Born won’t write us a more favorable one.”

  “Oh, I’m quite certain of that. He’d probably rather I didn’t give you that one but not all of us are cowed by the nephilim Royal Society member, and it’s part of the game to let him know that.”

  “It will have to do, then,” Zidrist said with a sigh.

  “Thank you for your courtesy, Madame Krask,” Drexl said with a small bow.

  Krask waved a dismissive hand. “Bah. I’m not being courteous, I’m poking the bear.”

  “Born doesn’t have some way of revoking this letter?” Darka asked.

  “Oh, he could absolutely send a ‘Loon courier around with a negation, but just think the loss of status to admit that his seal was put on a letter beyond his control. His dreams of expanding into Fief would be dashed for a good decade. Not to mention, men and saving face in general. They’re not the least bit sensible about that sort of thing, he’d rather be defied a little bit than admit he was defied at all.”

  Zia laughed. “Well, that sounds like a guy problem.” Which I am not, and have now identified myself as not. Hah. Wait, was Tixik interested in me as a guy or as a girl? Or just as the fire sorcerer who fried someone she disliked? I’ll have to ask Drexl.

  Krask raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. Now then, I hear that Darka here sung outside of Sazys’ mansion, so if Zia is done dallying with my chorus, I would appreciate a duet before you jump town. Which I do recommend you do, having killed a small household and burned down half a mansion.”

  “Only half?!” Zia protested. “They must have gotten a bucket chain going, that thing should have burned to the ground!” Wait, that was self defense. And I’m not feeling great about having killed a bunch of servants, even if half of them were thugs. “I mean… I hope they can salvage something from the wreckage.”

  “Well, what I suspect they’ll search most avidly for they won’t find,” Krask said, holding up the segmented bronze mantlet that Sazys had crafted for himself as a sign of status. Each section held a semiprecious stone of either blue or amber color, and Zia felt a twinge of regret that she couldn’t wear such an ostentatious piece of jewelry anymore. I’ll find the heir, be rewarded, and then a decoration such as that will be pocket change. That’s the plan. It’s a solid plan. And we just took the next step. What’s a few casualties in the name of restoring order and stability to all of Dragold? Besides, he was a criminal, and buildings have burned down all the time since the civil war started. This person is a heretic, that one a pretender, all sentenced to death. No wonder my parents just stay out of it and cling to the fringes of society without expressing any strong views. Of course, if they were brave like me they’d have sought out the heir instead of fleeing to their country estate. I was nineteen, I was ready for an adventure.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Zia preened inwardly at this statement of virtuous intent. She would restore order and stability. The Heirrors were her adventuring party, and she was its leader, and wouldn’t it just be the most romantic thing if, in the course of this little adventure, she found love? It would be just like the romances! Of course, outside Dragold nobody would have a caste… but surely an ouroboros brand wouldn’t be too much to ask of the newly installed Queen or King.

  “Just serve Izkarzon, it’s too good to believe,” the choir followed Darka through the final strains of Serving Great Izkarzon. “Dragold is forever, who would want to be free?” A beautiful hymn of the draconic Church. I’m glad I didn’t miss that while I was with Tixik. Oh, right. As they walked out, Zia came up next to Drexl, who shot her a faintly irritated look. What? What are you irritated about? You get so touchy sometimes! I don’t deserve that. I’m asking just because you look cranky.

  “Hey, Drexl. The singer. Tixik. She’s gay, right?”

  “What? How would I know that?” You don’t know?! What if she was straight? What if she… that would be awful!

  “I mean, you work for the same boss. Presumably you’ve socialized.” Maybe she could go back and ask.

  “So you know the orientations of all of your staff back up in your mansion?” What does that have to do with anything?

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Well then there you are. Wouldn’t this have been better to worry about before you made out with her, anyway?” Oh, that’s not fair. It’s hardly as though we spent long talking. She was insistent upon not, in fact.

  “I forgot! I’d care less if she were straight if she were an ouroboros but she was just a wane. Zidrist was managing and couldn’t change the letter anyway. And I thought it looked fine, to boot. So what’s it matter I spent a sandglass—”

  “At least three.”

  “Oh wow. I’m good.”

  “And she was managing fine without you. Why are you coming along, again? You set Sazys on fire, burned down plenty of innocent minions with his mansion, and cost us a more favorable letter.” Hey! I am the leader! I am the idea person, and the leader, and we are Zia’s Heirrors!

  Darka cut in, “Much as I’d love to listen to you two needle each other, we need to work as a team if we’re going to succeed. And we need Zia along to handle the financial aspects of things. I know I don’t have a ton of silver on hand to bribe Prowess. Weird name. Just a Loon word.”

  “That’s how Fief is,” Drexl said. “Like Dear Born. As for Zia… I just don’t appreciate her abandoning the dealings midway through because a pretty face wanted to give her attention.”

  “Alright, so I need to stay on task. Next time I’ll wait until we have gotten the letter of recommendation that we already had before I get my just desserts for ridding the world of a pest. But meantime, let’s get one thing straight—”

  “Like you’re worried Tixik might be?” That was a low blow.

  “I am the leader, and that is what I bring to the table. Sure, I have silver, but this whole adventure was my idea, I brought everyone together, and we are ‘Zia’s Heirrors’ on the letter of introduction. So you need me regardless of my silver, because I am the leader!”

  “I could see going by ‘Zia’ in a pinch,” Zidrist said dryly, “But she is ouroboros, and therefore better suited to leadership. I’m sure a hunger like me could do in a pinch, but I prefer to think that Zia delegated a lost cause to a lower caste while she pursued her pleasures.”

  “Thank you, Zidrist. I had no idea you thought so highly of me.”

  “You made the valid point that you had the idea of finding Izkarzon’s heir, and the caste system was implemented by Him, so clearly it must have some merit.” That’s a less-strong declaration of support than I would have liked, but I’ll take it. “Anyway, we do need a leader, and Darka doesn’t want the role, and I don’t want the role, there’s a reason I’m just a deacon. And as for Drexl…”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m mere bread. I’m not suited to it.” She still sounds cranky.

  “It’s nothing against you!” Zia protested. “Each caste just has their own strengths and weaknesses. I wouldn’t know which kind of club to bring to a heist for knocking people unconscious, or how to watch a street for troublemakers, but I can certainly bring people together for a good cause. And it was absolutely a vote of confidence in you all to deal with Krask that I slipped away for a few moments. Although honestly I figured you,” Zia was addressing Drexl, “would handle it. Hungers are great managers, but you’re the career criminal.” Zia slapped her on the back. “And I mean that in the best way. We’ve got our letter of introduction thanks to your contacts! Not to mention, you saved our expedition into Sazys’ mansion! Imagine if I’d burned down the butler instead of the boss guy and we never found the regalia! We’d have no letter!”

  “Have you considered fire being a second resort?” Zidrist asked. Well what the sarx do you mean by that? Oh, whatever. Everyone is on my side, which they should be, I’m not going to worry about it.

  “Alright. Thank you, Zia. I’m glad I’m valued, and not just brain-dead muscle.”

  “Not at all! That’s a common misconception, caste isn’t about ability—” Zidrist and Darka had curious coughing fits, “—it’s about what you’re suited to! Why do you think most breads are criminals?” And now Drexl looks dyspeptic again. Oh well. “So we’re off to Fief! Anyone ever been?” The assembled Heirrors shook their heads. “Neither have I! So this will be an adventure! An adventure fit for a romance novel! Zia’s Heirrors Seeking Adventure and Romance!” Now why are they shaking their heads again?

  Serving Great Izkarzon

  There’s only one great draconic Church here, worship others if you dare.

  They’re nowhere as righteous, no their leaders don’t care.

  If you follow them then you’ll be damned. They’re evil without a doubt.

  We know we hold a monopoly on truth, oh now heretics don’t you pout!

  There’s only one door to Heaven, this isn’t a hard sell.

  But there’s a wide roads that leads straight, into the bowels of Hell.

  So we serve great Izkarzon, He is the only way.

  We lift our voices to praise Him, on each and every day!

  We all love serving great Izkarzon

  It’s a lovely life

  Marvelously free of strife.

  There’s no better way than serving great Izkarzon

  All through the year

  We hold Him dear!

  Swear your oaths of fealty, inscribe their words on your heart.

  Offer everything you can to Izkarzon, whether it be labor or art.

  Attend the services offered every day, no don’t forget.

  When your poor soul is burning, you will surely regret!

  We live to serve Izkarzon! It’s simply sublime!

  He might respond to you with, a moment of his time.

  And still we serve great Izkarzon, He is the only way.

  We toil at our labors to please him, each and every day!

  We all love serving great Izkarzon

  It’s a lovely life

  Marvelously free of strife.

  Nothing’s better to do than serving great Izkarzon

  He is all we need,

  He is great indeed!

  Service here is freeing, lack of questions is nice

  If you don’t offer all you have, you’ll pay the ultimate price.

  And as services to kings go, our God-King is great

  We love the freedom of our service here, the rewards are first rate.

  There’s no need to remember, the time that came before.

  The Age of Loss ate up all our sin, lost knowledge we abhor.

  Just serve Izkarzon, it’s too good to believe,

  Dragold is forever, who would want to be free?