Two hours past sundown, the mountains thinned, and the occasional glow of houses grew more frequent. Dozens of lights signalled the edge of Minah. Only the larger moon decided to grace them that night, barely at a sliver. Other than the towns light, nothing else welcomed their approach.

They passed over a smattering of warm yellow lights, the oldest section of the city that still relied primarily on naked flames and candle lanterns. Buildings half carved into the edge of the side of the mountains, half constructed out of the layered stone. From the early days, when the primary inhabitants were dragons.

They banked over the keep, snaking out of the mountain it was carved into with more wings than a family of dragons. The lights shifted from warm yellow to a sharp red, though she never did understand the choice of colour, when the Olconic rock could be any colour they wanted.

Kinder on the eyes her ass.  

Lys began to descend. Her ears popped unpleasantly, as if the stinging in her eyes wasn’t bad enough. Flying with a dragon partner was amazing when one ignored all the unpleasant side effects. She couldn’t wait to stretch her legs.

Lys flew past one of the watch towers and down to a landing platform. She felt him touch down with a thud.

Para drooped her legs either side of Lys’s neck. “Finally,” she groaned.

“I want to sleep,” Lys complained loudly, lifting his head and flaring his crown of feathers.

She leaned forward and patted his neck. “You and me both.”

He stopped, and swung his head around to look directly at her with pale, grey eyes. “Last I checked, you were not the one flying.”

“Hey,” she slapped a hand against her chest, “I was navigating. It’s a very important job! How would you get anywhere without my centuries of knowledge?!”

He sung a couple notes of amusement, though they were low and rough.

“You shouldn’t make jokes when you’re tired, least someone take you seriously,” she said to the old dragon.

He snorted in response and made way into the cavern.

In the evening, the industrial end of the city looked almost pleasant. Lights dotted around the most important buildings, namely the pubs, inns, and various late night entertainment. The low hum of idle machinery against the sound of gravel cicadas kept her own mind occupied enough to keep her own thoughts at bay. 

They passed through the landing room unbothered by the two workers milling around. Both were slumping and only one bothered to glance their way, though their gaze was distant and disinterested. Fences were erected throughout to separate the spaces of the various traders who operated in this particular hub. Wooden, floor to ceiling, with a couple scorch marks here and there.

“I need a good meal and bucket of wine,” Lys vibrated with his deep hum. “Is that corner pub open?”

He was referring to the Green Feather, known for its vibrant nightly entertainment and hearty food. Stews loaded with game meats and mountain grown vegetation, suitable for both people and dragons.

“They’re open late tonight. Last day of the trading week.”

“Already?” Lys sounded surprised.

“Yep,” Para clicked her tongue. “We have been flying that long.”

The dragon swung his head back and forth and muttered, “well shit.”

Past all the fencing, at the back of the cavern, were large double doors. Twin Wing Traders was painted on the front in cursive, with the image of a dragon flying beneath. Para always thought whoever made it must’ve put a whole two seconds of thought in. She hoped they were paid suitably for their dismal efforts.

Lys knocked his tail against the bell hanging to left. It rung a deep sound, and from behind the doors, echoed the same ringing.

Not a second later the door swung open. Lys hissed and leapt out of the way, barely avoiding being struck.

“You’re late!”

Eliza clutched a bottle in one hand, the other propped on her hip. Her shirt was undone and hanging off her arms, and her hair had long fallen out of the braid she always wore.  

A Virga, her lineage too mixed to narrow down to one base species. The slight purple tint of her skin could be Nox heritage, but the bumps on her forearms were certainly not. Possibly underdeveloped spines, possibly fins, who knew. Brown hair, tall stature, thick skin on her legs like a Sil, but no clawed feet unless she managed to stuff them into leather boots.

And bright red scales all over her neck and torso.

Para’s eyes scanned over the expanse of scales, disappearing beneath her chest wrapping.

“Go on then, what’s your excuse?” Eliza never glanced at Para. It stung, but she expected it.

“Patrol,” Lys replied, “chased us through some mining tunnels, we had to reroute.”

Only then, did Eliza glance up at Para, and scowl. “Right, okay. Come in then and I’ll sort your pay first.” She gestured over her shoulder with the bottle.

Three of four desks inside were empty.

“Thank the Gods,” said the occupant of the last desk, “I thought I was going to have to go and retrieve your dead bodies.”

Lys scoffed, flaring his crown of feathers and immediately smoothing them down again.

The other dragon leaned over the desk, folding her huge legs and resting her chin on them. Waiting until Eliza stood in front of one of the bookshelves, arms folded and scowling, before extracting herself from her slouch.

Cora Ironclaw named by Keeava, one of two dragon partners that formed the Twin Wing Traders. Two dragons. Two people.

Lys stepped back as she passed, her huge black form slinking past like an oversized cat. Her tail gave a slight flick far too close to them, and Lys tensed. Cora stood on her back legs and put her shoulder to the bookcase. One heave and the case slid with ease.

Most people may stare at the revealed door and ponder what was on the other side. Para had no time for theatrics and was partway through untying boxes from Lysander’s back when she heard the click of the lock.

The moment the first crate was untied from Lysander’s back, Eliza was on it with a crowbar and a gleam in her eyes. Para shook her head, even in private company, it was ill advised to show so much interest. Least it be used against you.  

From inside the box, she pulled out a bone. It had a sheen like the finest pearl, pale like moonlight from the larger moon, and polished like marble one would find in the palace itself. Para’s breath caught at the sight and she felt the overwhelming temptation to snatch one when Eliza wasn’t looking. Just one for herself. One wouldn’t be missed.

She clenched her teeth until her jaw ached. Trying to sell them herself would never work, for a myriad of reasons.

“Siren bones,” Eliza turned it over, despite nothing differing from one side to another. “How long ago were these killed?”

“Two weeks,” Para popped open one of the pouches on her hips and extracted a notebook. “And dried in the sun. The two blue boxes are a month old but dried in a cave, which I’m told would mean something.” She tore out the piece of paper and handed it to the recipient.

Eliza’s smile sharpened. “Oh, my dear, these are worth a small fortune.”

Her heart rapped against her ribs. She licked her lips, watching Eliza pull up the corner of her shirt to expose the flat purse tied around her waist. Digging around, she extracted a closed fist.

Para was practically vibrating in place as Eliza handed her twice her usual pay. They were eating well tonight, and maybe they could splurge on a proper inn room rather than using the stop over bays. She plucked at her shirt. The hem was loose again and needed restitching. New threading perhaps? Or she could splurge on a whole new wardrobe.

As much as she could pack in her clothing bag anyway.  

Half she handed to Lys who tucked it away in the coin purse strapped to chest.

They made short work of removing the crates and pushing them into the hidden storeroom, swapping them out for identical looking crates that had a slight musty odour. Probably fabrics or something equally uninteresting.

One boring crate remained all lonesome in the corner of the hidden room. Was there a point in divulging their accidental loss along the way? Eliza was clever enough to put two and two together, and was more than well equipped for any law enforcement knocking at her door.

She exchanged a glace with Lys, standing over the remaining crate. Best not, least Eliza dock it from their pay.

Room closed up, and cupboard blocking the door, all was said and done, and Para was beginning to drool over the thoughts of their evening meal. Dry carrots, leaks, potatoes, and corn, squished into a bar with oats and eaten with dry strips of pork, were about as appetising as chewing on her saddle harness.

“Unload in the usual spot,” Eliza turned partway through speaking and retreated to her desk, to pack her bags and collect her coat. Not sparing so much as a gesture of dismissal.

“A moment, before you go.”

Oh? Para paused, one hand on the door.

Eliza was rubbing her forehead with a pained expression. Her brow furrowed as she sought the words that didn’t seem to be coming.

“Come back tomorrow,” she announced finally.

Para clicked her tongue. “You don’t operate tomorrow.” As much as Para daydreamed about pinning Eliza to a wall and having her way, there was no way that was going to happen. Eliza barely remembered her existence long enough to form an opinion, let alone an attachment.

“We don’t do back to back jobs.” Lys raised his head high and sunk a low note that could come off as threatening. Oh yes, that too.

“I know,” Eliza dropped her hand. “I wasn’t going to ask you to,” she stepped back to lean against her desk, digging her hands into the edges. “There’s delicate cargo we’ve been asked to move. Caire organised the run but I don’t like his choice of teams. It’s different to your usual work, and will require working with two other teams – “

“And we do not do teamwork,” Para huffed, half amused that Eliza would ask. They were the single fastest, most reliable team she had. To potentially compromise their working relationship was quite the move. “Must be some expensive cargo if you’re asking us to collaborate.”

Eliza raised a brow. After a moment, she stated “A high profile one.” She stepped away from the desk. “Look, it pays better than the one you just finished. You’ll be there and back in three days. That’s all you two want, isn’t it? Quick money. Nothing quicker than three days for full purses.”

A deep rumble came from Lys, followed by a couple notes that jumped from one pitch to another.

Lys lowered his head and worked his jaw. She knew anticipation when she saw it in her oldest friend. The tightness in his muscles, the way his eyes narrowed, and how he worked out building energy through subtle movements. A jaw movement. A repositioning of his wing.

She rolled her shoulders to release the strain. “Your decision Lys.”

“We will do it,” he responded immediately.

Para raised a brow, seems Lys had made up his mind already.

“First light tomorrow, don’t be late!”