A hum, then a whine, near the bell tower, near the coast. It fit too well. Too perfectly. The energy surge the Ventifact agents had detected before it vanished... was that the sound of the power being taken? Was that the dragon using the monolith's power for the first time? And if so, how did it sound so distant but also loud? What kind of power could make such a sound, and they said something about air traveling fast?
He wanted to talk about it right away, to Caracara, to anyone. But he clamped his jaws shut. Not here. Not in these halls. He forced himself to regulate his breathing, to walk as normally as he could, despite the fast beating of his heart. His eyes kept darting around, studying the dragons they passed. Could that be the one? The one who flew so fast they heard only a hum? The one with supernatural power? It seemed ridiculous, it was heard way back in Ventifact, but the King and Queen had said it themselves – the thief could look like anyone, and be anywhere.
They continued through the passages of the palace, the scents of baked goods gradually fading, replaced by the dry air of their assigned room. Finally, Fennec opened the familiar door and gestured them inside.
"Your rooms, Captain, Envoy," Fennec announced. "A messenger will come to retrieve you in an hour for the evening's banquet. Queen Sula insists on celebrating with a feast."
Very well," Caracara grunted, acknowledging the news. "Thank you, Fennec."
Fennec bowed slightly and closed the door behind them, leaving Vireo and Caracara alone once more in the room. Caracara immediately stretched his mighty wings, then walked over to the windows, gazing out at the vast city below as dusk began to fall.
Vireo moved to his own sleeping slab, but instead of collapsing onto it, he turned to Caracara, his words tumbling out faster than he intended. "Captain," he began, his voice low, "I heard something. Just now, in the hallway. Two of their dragons were actually talking about something."
Caracara turned from the window, his keen eyes fixed on Vireo. "Oh?" he rumbled. Vireo could see the sudden shift in his posture, the slight stiffening of his body.
"Captain," Vireo began, stumbling over his words. He averted his gaze to the closed door. "I... I heard them. They were talking about... about a sound. A really strange sound that was way out of the ordinary, and it was actually back in Ventifact."
Caracara didn't interrupt. His body, which had been relaxed just moments before, became much more alert. His reddish-brown eyes were narrowed with curiosity. "What kind of sound, Envoy?" he prompted.
Vireo took a deep breath. "They said it was a high-pitched hum. And then a whine. Like something moving through the air too fast to properly hear. Made their scales stand up." He paused, leaning in conspiratorially "And they said it was near our coast. Just past the bell tower. They said it felt distant, but loud. That's where the island is."
He slowly turned his head back towards the window, his on the dark horizon of the Inselberg desert. Vireo watched him, holding his breath, hoping he understood. The hum, the speed, the location... it all clicked into place with the King's theory. He could see Caracara's jaw tighten almost imperceptibly.
Finally, Caracara turned back. "A high-pitched hum. A whine. Fast movement near the bell tower, near the coast." He repeated the details, like he was memorizing them. "Yes. That," he said, "that could very well be it. The energy surge. The stolen power. They witnessed the thief's first flight, perhaps, or at least a powerful manifestation of whatever it took." A grim line settled around his mouth. "This changes things. We will complete our duties here, but the moment we return to Ventifact, you and I will have an immediate audience with Monarchs. This information is critical." He took a step towards Vireo and looked at him. "Are you sure you heard correctly? It wasn't just your imagination? Or maybe you're lying to me?"
Vireo quickly shook his head, waving his talons. "No, no! I'm serious. Really, I am!"
Vireo met his eyes, trying to show sincerity. The Captain slowly dipped his head in a nod. "Very well. Your perception is keen, Envoy. This is indeed valuable. I will consider its implications for our reports to the Monarchs." His tone indicated the topic was closed, for now.
He felt restless and confined. He looked towards the large windows, seeing the distant shine of the city lights beginning to emerge against the twilight sky. An a few hours until the banquet.
"Captain," Vireo said, "since we have a little time before the banquet, and... well, the city looks quite cool from up here. Would it be... okay for me to perhaps explore a small section of it? Just for a little while, to stretch my wings before dinner?"
Caracara turned back to the window. Vireo waited, holding his breath. He was an "Envoy," after all, technically on a mission, not a sightseeing tour.
Caracara looked indecisive. Finally, he let out his answer. "No," Caracara stated, "I understand the wish to get out and explore, but right now, I think we should rest. We must be up on our best game." He turned his head slightly.
"Understood," Vireo said defeated.
Caracara just grunted, turning back to his view at the window. His form was a silhouette against the low light. Vireo trotted up to his bed. He lied flat on his back, his wings covering a large portion of the room's floor.
The soft cotton felt cool against his scales, it was a great contrast to the padding of his bed at home. He stretched his hind legs out, feeling the pull in his muscles. His cut arm still throbbed, which made him scoff. He looked up at the high ceiling with embedded glowing crystals emitting a soft light.
His talons, resting on his chest, began to fiddle. He rubbed the tips of them against each other, the small sound a quiet scratch in the otherwise silent room. He thought of his home city, Chert. He thought of Peyote, probably coaxing Leafy to perform another trick. This city, Solifuge, was so different. So vast, so vertical, its stone polished and adorned with hints of gold. He had only seen a tiny fraction of it, and already, he had an absurd amount of questions. What was it like to live in a city half-carved into a mountain, to fly between soaring spires instead of skimming over flat rooftops? He wished that he could experience this place as a normal dragon. Just wander, observe, maybe even haggle for some strange local fruit in a market. Not as a disguised spy, constantly on edge, searching for a ghost.
The thought of the "thief" and the stolen power did nothing to ease his anxiety. A hum and a whine. It was terrifyingly vague, yet terrifyingly precise. He squeezed his eyes shut. This whole mission, his mother's cold look, the King and Queen's demands – it was too much. He wanted to escape, even for a moment. The soft bedding, the quiet of the palace itself, slowly began to coax him to relax. His thoughts, still racing, became more muffled in the back of his mind. He drifted, not into a deep, dreamless sleep, but a light, shallow doze, one ear always half-listening, one part of him still tense and aware.
A firm tap on his chest startled him. Vireo flinched, groaning as his body protested the sudden movement. His eyes, heavy and crusty with sleep, slowly fluttered open. Caracara stood over him, his reddish-brown scales gleaming slightly in the glow of the crystals.
"Time to rise, Envoy," Caracara's voice rumbled. "The messenger came. We are expected for the banquet now."
Vireo pushed himself up, wincing as every muscle in his back and wings stretched. He let out a long, shuddering yawn that felt like it cracked his jaw. He stretched his wings out slowly, feeling the pop of joints, trying to shake off the last lingering sleepiness. He ran a talon over his scales, smoothing them down. He probably looked a mess, definitely not fit for a royal feast. But Caracara, already turning towards the door, clearly didn't care.
He moved quickly to follow. Fennec, the pale gold guide, was already waiting just outside the door, his posture as composed as ever. He seemed to float through the palace halls, with how sharp he was. Vireo trailed slightly behind Caracara, his claws clicking on the stone floors. The sound from the clicks of his claws almost felt too loud, so he tried to quiet it down but to no avail. The air still had the scent of baked goods and spices, now with a new, richer aroma – roasted meats, perhaps, or exotic wines? Vireo couldn't tell.
They passed by occasional side chambers, some with massive doors, revealing rooms with more ornate decor. He noticed other dragons moving through the palace, some in formal robes adorned with shimmering threads, others with intricate jewelry glinting on their scales. He felt a sudden pang of self-consciousness. His simple travel pouch, his still-aching body, his raw cut, his fnags and stinger – he looked utterly out of place among this regal display.
As they walked Vireo had a question about the protocols of Inselberg's single monarchy. "Captain," Vireo said, trying to keep his voice respectful, "will Queen Sula... will she be at the banquet?" He hadn't seen her at the morning meeting, only her diplomats. Facing another monarch, especially one with "absolute authority" as his mother had put it, was quite intense.
Caracara continued walking, his pace not change at all. He didn't turn his head even in the slightest. "She will be present, Envoy." His tone was obvious; Don't ask me any more questions.
Finally, Fennec stopped before a set of huge, double doors, carved from dark, wood and engraved with patterns of gold. Two large guards stood silent sentinel on either side, both with tan scales. Fennec gave a subtle dip of his head, and one of the guards, with a synchronized movement, pushed open the massive doors.