Everything was blurry when Sherry opened her eyes; she was lying in a bed with the usual weight of her armor gone, and even more surprisingly, no pain.

“Easy, Sherr,” Mort said as she came to, her eyes adjusting to the light. “You took a lot of damage, burned off some of your hair too, but I fixed it up nice for you. 

Sherry noticed the missing length of her raven hair, it was shorter now, hanging more from the right side it was parted to. She could use the magic to grow it back but felt it was a fitting scar from her battle. She winced as she stood upright, taking Mort’s hand for support.

“I’m afraid not even magic can fully take away a headache that bad.”

“It is a minor thing,” Sherry protested, shaking off the stress in her limbs. Her sight cleared and she saw they were in the office of the Chief, with his mountain of gold glimmering at her left. Mort sat by her side, his face relieved to see her.

“The last time I awoke in this room, you were not here,” Sherry said, remembering the horrible night.

“I’m still not,” Mort said, his words stinging Sherry.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Mort said gently. “I’ll linger on until you see that, but for now I’m just glad you didn’t join me.”

“Indeed,” came the booming voice of the Chief from above, and only now did she notice him. She had mistaken his head for the ceiling.

“Sir,” Sherry struggled upwards, putting her feet on the polished marble floor. There was little pain as she did so, which meant they had already healed most of the damage and burns she had sustained in her fight. “What happened? How bad is it out there?”

“They hit us hard,” the Chief voice growled, anger clear as day. “We have had violence in this city before, but never an attack like this.”

“It was the people of this city who attacked us, sir.”

“Criminals.”

“No sir, not just criminals,” Sherry insisted. “Most of them had never committed a crime before this Deadbone told them to. Just a few words from a gruesome stranger got them to join in the madness…why do you think that is?”

“You’re defending them?” the Chief growled incredulously.

“I think Sherr has a point, Chief,” Mort said, coming to her defense. “The imbalance of magic in this society, in fact, the entire kingdom, is not a new issue.”

“That is not something we decide.”

“Then perhaps we need to have that conversation with those who do,” Sherry said impatiently. “Where is the Queen now?”

“On her way here,” the Chief admitted reluctantly, “but your job is not politics, Sherr’Yand’Rull, only to find those responsible for this act of destruction upon our city and bring them here.”

“Ignoring the problem will not make it go away,” Sherry said stubbornly.

“You are the last person who can say that when you have him walking around.”

The words sank in her heart like a dagger, especially from the Chief, one of the only two beings who had given Sherry space to grieve. However, her hypocrisy didn’t diminish the issue at hand, and the Chief knew it, he just didn’t want to deal with it either.

“Perhaps you have been standing on gold too long, Chief Roraima.” 

Mort gasped behind her, and the Chief coiled back his long neck in surprise. No one used the names of dragons outside their kind, or those special enough to have been permitted by them to do so. Sherry knew the Chief’s name from the war, her father being one of the few who could use it, but he had never officially extended that privilege to her.

“My kind has eaten yours for that level of disrespect,” the Chief said, keeping his voice as neutral as he could.

“I thought we were family,” Sherry said calmly, “at least that’s what you told my father so long ago. I am trying to reach you on this issue because it falls to us to do something about it. Would you ignore my words?”

The Chief said nothing, looking down at her for a moment before spreading his wings and making a small jump down from his treasure hoard onto the floor to stand before her. Their eyes met as close as they could be, and Mort shifted nervously but ready to try anything to break them off if needed.

“The woman you defeated claims to have been raised by dragons, that she understands them, but I think you have a better grasp of them, Sherr’Yand’Rull…at least of this dragon.”

The Chief smiled, and Sherry couldn’t help but return the courtesy. “It seems we have a lot of work to do, and I will stand by you when this issue is raised with Her Majesty, but right now we need to start with the problem at hand, and find out what that woman knows. Are you up for it?”

“I have already shown I can handle her,” Sherry replied cooly.

“Then have at it,” the Chief said with a pleased huff, “and do only call me that when we’re alone, please.” 

* * *

Taniwha was sitting comfortably in the interrogation room despite being shackled head to toe with heavy chains, enchanted to prevent her from using magic, even her particular dragon brand. She was more relaxed than Sherry would have expected, given her circumstances.

They had healed the worst of her burns, but left the rest of her injuries untouched, which seemed incredibly cruel even if she had killed many of their own. Her body was badly bruised, and Sherry could see she had a slight discomfort when moving, which indicated her ribs were still broken. Regardless, Taniwha played it off like it was no big deal, and smiled pleased with herself as she could feel Sherry watching from the other side of the enchanted glass.

“How does she still have access to your magic when she’s a criminal?” Mort asked not bothering to hide his disapproval.

“She is not one according to our laws,” Chief Roraima said.

“She murdered over a dozen of us.”

In combat,” the Chief pointed out. “It is normal for our kind to seek battle within our own, to prove our mettle or take leadership.”

“Even when it’s against the citizens of the kingdom?” Sherry asked angrily.

“If a dragon did that, you know we would handle it internally,” Chief Roraima said, trying to sound placating. “I do not know what thunder she belonged to, but it’s obviously one very far away.”

“How do you know?

“Her name is the word for us in the far southeast, in the culture of the sea. We use the word in whatever language we are in as a title for the very few among you two-legged ones to have served us like no other.”

“Like the Queen,” Sherry said, feeling the weight of what he was saying. “Even if she is our enemy here, whatever she did to earn that title and our magic, was not nothing.”

“Right now it means nothing,” Sherry said, fuming, and then entered the room. Her cape flapped as she threw the door open more angrily than she intended.

“Easy there, you don't have to worry about getting in trouble with me, Guerrera,” Taniwha said, greeting her enthusiastically.

“You call me that in my old tongue?” Sherry asked, trying to keep her own feelings masked.

“What else should I call you but warrior? That was a good fight! Best I've had in at least two decades, so the job was well worth it.” 

Taniwha sounded delighted, which bothered Sherry. “That being to kill as many knights as possible,” Sherry stated coldly.

“And to lead that little riot,” Taniwha added with a chuckle. “I mean, if you want mayhem and dead bodies, I’m the one you hire.” 

She spoke with pride, which only angered Sherry more. “There are many in this building who want you dead for what you did.”

“There are many across the kingdoms who want me dead for all manner of things, such is the life of a mercenary.”

“So you have no regret?”

“Only that I didn't win our fight,” Taniwha added, more amused than anything.

Sherry gritted her teeth, her utter lack of feeling infuriated her deeply. “What was the point of all this? What did that man want?”

“Who knows what that pale freak wants, but to me, it seemed he only wanted chaos…well, that and to deliver a message to you, since you bring it up.” 

Sherry's ears perked up, as they often did when she was finally getting somewhere.

“I told him I would only do it if you defeated me, or else you’d be dead to hear it, but here we are so I suppose I get to fulfill my contract.” Taniwha straighted, which despite her best efforts, showed how much it pained her to do so.

“Your people took my pouch, can you bring it here?”

Sherry nodded cautiously and motioned with her hand for Mort to enter with it. He and The Chief had been watching from outside the room, even if designed specially for him, the hallway was still barely big enough for a dragon to cram his head, so no one else could fit in at the time.

Mort entered, her pouch in hand, and placed it on the table. He threw Taniwha a dirty look which she ignored. “There’s nothing dangerous in there, but I’d be careful, there’s a box we couldn’t open.”

“That’s because it’s magically sealed, only I can open it,” Taniwha replied, reaching inside the pouch to pull the metal box in question. At her touch, it clicked open immediately, revealing a…jawbone.

“What is this?” Sherry asked, anger flaring.

“This is part of the message,” Taniwha said, offering her the old bone. “He said you’d knew who it belonged to and could seek his wisdom.”

Sherry’s heart skipped a beat, that could mean the jawbone once belonged to her grandfather. The missing piece she thought was long lost during the war, but that was impossible. She had looked everywhere, but only the top of the skull was all that was left. How could that monster have found it…or did he have it all along somehow?

“How did he find this?” Sherry asked, trying not to let her voice break.

“Hell if I know, man has a thing for bones in case the name didn’t tip you off,” Taniwha said, uncaring. “He seems to like giving them to people, so I’m assuming this belonged to a loved one of yours, yes?”

Sherry didnt answer, she couldn't stop looking at the old thing with horror. Mort, who was still in the room, tried to approach her, but she motioned him to not do so.

“I would have thought he was trying to intimidate you if it wasn’t for the other half of the message.”

Sherry looked back at her, apprehensive. “There is more?”

“Just five words: ‘Make peace with the boy.’”

The words might as well have been a gut punch; she felt her stomach recoil, and she felt sick. Sherry tried to stand up, but her legs were suddenly like jelly and almost stumbled. Mort rushed to her side and helped her up.

“Oh, wow, didn’t think that would cut so deep,” Taniwha said, laughing. “I have no idea what that means, but you have to respect the skill from Deadbone if he can hurt you this bad with just a few words and an old piece of people.”

“Shut up!” Mort shouted, and for once he wasn’t trying to be the voice of reason. “I don’t care that you’re a prisoner, you open your mouth again and I’ll finish that fight myself.”

Taniwha laughed, uncaring. “Oh, are you worried about your friend? What a good zombie you are; I can see why she keeps you around.”

“You know the one good thing about being dead?” Mort said, standing up even as Sherry remained paralyzed on the floor. “I don’t have to care about rules anymore, like not harming those in custody.”

“Mort, stop,” Sherry said, but her voice was weak.

“I grew up with dragons, little man.” Taniwha rose to meet Mort face to face, even if she had to look down having a full head in size on him. “Some even bigger than your boss out there. I have broken every bone in my body and felt more pain than you ever did when you could still feel anything.”

Even shackled, Taniwha was still dangerous, and although she knew Mort was in no real danger given his condition, Sherry still could not allow them to fight.

“You're right, I don’t feel anything, but eventually you will,” Mort said, clenching his fists.

“Enough!” Sherry yelled, getting to her feet. Her hand was shaking, but she was prepared to summon magic with it if she needed to. “Mort, you are not the bad knight, do not play the role.”

Mort relented and backed away, while Taniwha still smiled eagerly for the fight. “That's a shame, never have killed something dead before. Would have been fun to try.”

“Be quiet,” Sherry said, out of patience. “You obviously do not know anything else of value, so I have nothing left to ask you. Guards, take back to her cell, and make sure she has more restrains.”

“My role in this might be over, but you best believe yours is just beginning,” Taniwha said, with more than a little satisfaction. “Now I don’t know why our mutual friend is so interested in you, but from what I’ve seen him to do to people, I would not want to be right now.”