Clenching my jaw, I pulled in a hard breath. "That's not the same as harmless."

"Ah, and now we get to the part you were trying to avoid, hm?"

Rymar flailed both hands at Drozel. "Because you already laid it out!"

"Enough!" the Mayor snapped. Then he lifted a hand to rub at the bridge of his striped nose. "The three of you are going to give me a headache."

"Killing her is a mistake," I told him again.

"So I gather," Jerlis assured me. "Keeping her in a city building is a worse one, as far as I care. That means you have two options, Zasen. You can either keep her at your own home as a refugee, or you can build a containment facility for her somewhere else." He ducked his head and gave me a pointed look. "Far-from-town kind of somewhere else."

"Where she'd be eaten by predators," I grumbled.

Rymar groaned loudly. "C'mon, Jerlis. You know Zasen's right about this. There's no way he'd risk anyone here in Lorsa. All we need is a room with a lock, a bed, and a toilet. There has to be something."

"There's one at your place," Drozel taunted.

"That we're all using!" I sneered. "And unless you think I'm going to keep her chained up, she could easily walk out the door - or did you not think about that?"

"With the three of you keeping an eye on her?" Drozel taunted.

Jerlis just lifted a hand, halting our bickering. "He's right, Zasen. Never mind that your house is at the edge of town. She wouldn't see where, how, or even when our people move around. She wouldn't get her eyes on any of the city facilities."

"So I'm supposed to make my home into her prison?"

"As a refugee," the Mayor reminded me. "Just know that if she wanders on her own, there's a good chance someone will kill her, and I will not press charges for it."

"For murder?" Rymar snapped.

"Is it murder if we're at war?" Jerlis countered. "No, she's a Mole. If you three think she has such valuable information, then keep her safe. Otherwise, the problem will solve itself, hm?" Then he flicked his hand at the group of us. "Now get the hell out of my office and stop making my life harder."

I just looked at Drozel. "I'll remember this."

"And maybe even learn from it," he replied. "I'd think that with a sister like Jeera, you'd be the one to understand why I don't trust that pale bitch."

"Because the orin isn't anything like Jeera," I reminded him. "If she was, I would've killed her already."

"And instead, you get to test your theory. Win-win, right?" Drozel smiled, stood, and marched out of the room. "I still expect overtime for the trip, Zasen!"

I snarled under my breath, but Rymar shoved a hand into my back and propelled me forward. Together, the pair of us made our way out of the City Hall without a word. Mostly because the words I wanted to use were all going to be loud. But once we made it outside, we both turned for the clinic.

"Kanik's gonna love this," Rymar said around a chuckle.

"About as much as I do," I pointed out. "Fuck! What the hell was Drozel thinking!"

"That he hates Moles." Rymar gently reached up to rub my shoulder. "It's okay, we'll figure it out. If she's classified as a refugee, then that means she's not a prisoner, which should make turning her easier."

"And controlling her less so," I countered. "It also means she's about to be living with us."

"Then kill her," Rymar said.

I was starting to think that might be the best idea. My gut said she wasn't a threat, but I knew better. I'd studied the wars of history and had read too many examples of infiltrators who seemed harmless enough. Still, the things in her head?

"No," I decided. "If she'll talk, then that girl is worth her weight in gold."

"And if she won't?"

I scoffed at that. "Then I'll break her neck out of sheer frustration. Or you will."

"Not Kanik, though," he said.

"Nope," I agreed. "But that might work in our favor as well. After all, if she's living with us, then someone has to be the nice one, and I'm not sure I can pull off that act long enough to figure out what the fuck she's even saying."

Which made Rymar look at me, jerking his chin as if he had an idea. "You know what we need? Jeera's help. And clothes. Definitely clothes, because Orin's starting to stink."

I had to chuckle, because he wasn't wrong. "And what is Jeera supposed to help with?"

But Rymar was starting to smile in that way he had. "Oh, just giving her a female friend. Someone else to trust. Someone a bit less threatening than any of us."

"My sister?" I scoffed.

"Your little sister," he agreed. "She's small, she's grey, and she's almost as devious as you. Yeah, I think she's exactly who we need, because every girl I've ever known is more likely to talk to another woman than she is to spill her guts to a man."

I murmured because he did have a point. "And she's just as poisonous as we are. You know, Rymar, that might actually work."

"I didn't get where I am because I'm an idiot," he assured me. "Now let's go see if Orin is healthy enough to leave the clinic yet and break the news to Kanik."

Twenty-FourAyla

Iwoke to the sound of voices again. Unlike this morning, when I'd been chained to the tree, these weren't whispers. No, men were grumbling, their voices loud enough to verge on shouting. Sucking in a breath, I tried to sit up even as I opened my eyes.

"Shh..." a woman said as she gently pushed me back against the mostly upright bed-chair.

My head jerked over to find the grey Dragon woman smiling kindly at me. Confused, I looked the other way, trying to find the men who sounded so angry. They weren't in the room, but through the partially open door, I could see someone moving.

Blue.

The flash of color was enough to let me know the Wyvern was back. A moment later, I saw yellow. Then the brown one moved into sight, standing at the opening with his back towards me and his arms crossed. The men just kept talking.

But when a gentle hand smoothed my hair down on the top of my head, I looked at the grey Dragon again. Once more, she smiled. That seemed to be the best communication method she had. Although, just like the men, her teeth had those gaps in them, the ones where the fangs descended. It wasn't as reassuring as she probably hoped.

Confused, and still muddled by the poison, I couldn't quite figure out what to do. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long for my fate to be decided. The door creaked as it opened wider, and all three men made their way in. The Wyvern only glanced at me as he walked to the side.

There, he opened one of those glass jars and pulled out a wooden stick. Not that it was like a stick in the forest, but I didn't have a better word for it. The thing was flat, narrow, and not that big. While I watched, he snapped a third off, then moved to my side.

"Orin?" he asked, making my eyes jump up to his face.

Orange. His eyes were vibrantly orange, almost a match to the spots on the yellow one. The color was so pretty, but also a little intimidating for some reason. Or maybe it was just the way he looked at me? I'd read about snakes with that power. Their gaze could befuddle their prey, and that was the effect his eye color always seemed to have on me.