*It’s still too early. I don’t want to tempt fate. Besides, Archie was there.*
A slight tinge of worry entered his mental voice.*You think he might take it badly?*
*No.*She turned her head to kiss the silvery scar of his mate mark.*But I know he’s just going to be so excited about being an uncle, he’ll blurt it out to the entire world. Let’s keep it our secret for a little while longer.*
Zephyr politely cleared his throat.
Paige flushed, realizing that everyone else had been patiently waiting for her to finish her private conversation. “Sorry. I got distracted. Conleth said you had something for me?”
“Yes, though it’s really from Blaise.” Zephyr shifted his slumbering daughter, pulling out a feather that had been tucked under a strap of the baby sling. He handed it to her, smiling. “For your nature table.”
Paige ran her finger along the edge of the feather. It was over a foot long; soot-black at the base, shifting through dark blues and purples to a glowing, fiery orange at the tip. Warmth radiated from it, like heat from a banked campfire.
She shook her head in amazement. “Between this and the other donations, I’m going to have quite a display.”
“Leave a space for one of mine,” Conleth said. “I’ve got a primary almost ready to molt. It might not be quite as impressive, but you should still have a pegasus feather too.”
“I also have a gift for your new hoard, shield-sister!” Ragvald announced. He reached behind his back. “As both a small token of my unending respect, and for the benefit of the children. I am sure they will find it most educational.”
Paige had expected him to pull out a scale, or possibly a piece of shed skin (though she had no idea if wyrms were like snakes in that regard). Instead, Ragvald produced a sealed glass jar. It was the approximate size of a human torso, and filled with dark, murky liquid.
And also, apparently, tentacles.
“Uh,” Paige said cautiously. “What is it?”
“In wyrmish, it is a—” Ragvald made a noise like a cat horking up a hairball. “I think in your tongue, you call them cockroaches, yes?”
“No,” Conleth said. “No, we do not. Thankfully.”
Ragvald’s brow furrowed. “But I had assumed they were the same thing. Are not your cockroaches a common pest that infests dark spaces? Difficult to kill?”
“They are,” Paige said. “But our cockroaches are a lot smaller. With fewer…suckers.”
“How very odd.” Ragvald shook the jar, making the tentacles swirl. A taloned wing briefly drifted into view, along with a round, staring eye. “You are sure you do not have this creature here?”
Moira started back. “Did it just blink?”
Ragvald frowned at his specimen. “They areverydifficult to kill.”
“Thank you, Ragvald,” Paige said as the lid of the jar rattled. She took a prudent step back. “Maybe you could keep hold of it for now? Until I, um, have a suitable place to display it.”
“Zephyr,” Conleth said suddenly. Along among all of them, his attention wasn’t fixed on Ragvald’s mysterious jar, but rather on the sky. “Look.”
Zephyr looked up too, and stiffened, one hand going protectively to his daughter. Paige tried to see what had caught their attention, but her eyesight was no match for either of theirs. All she could make out was a distant speck; a bird of prey, perhaps.
Then she realized it was much too large to be a mere bird.
“Is that who I think it is?” Zephyr murmured to Conleth.
Conleth nodded, still focussed on that remote form. “Did you call them?”
“No.” Zephyr turned to Ragvald and Moira. “It may be a coincidence, but please get that jar out of sight. And make sure it’s secure. I’d rather not show our visitor that we have an unknown crawling horror on site.”
“Who is it?” Paige asked as Moira hurried Ragvald away. She shaded her eyes, trying to make out any details of the rapidly approaching shape. “One of the camp investors?”
“No,” Conleth replied. She could feel from the mate bond that he wasn’talarmed, precisely, but there was a tense readiness to his stance. “An old acquaintance. Let’s hope he’s not here on official business.”
Their visitor swooped down, back winging to land in the central square. From the huge wings and feline tail, at first Paige thought it must be a griffin—but its orange flanks were striped, and it didn’t have a beak.
