Creative Corner

“We’ve got a problem.”

The sentence left their mouths almost simultaneously, and Raust blinked in irritation. Both started to speak again at the same time, but Chime waved a claw at him to carry on. “Go on,” she murmured, sounding as though she thought she was being very gracious. “You first.”

“Very well,” he told her, primly refolding his wings behind him. “I don’t think going out after Shrike will be as easy as we’d hoped. A bad storm’s picked up – I couldn’t even get the door-hatch open. I think we may be snowed in.”

“Snowed in,” the spiral repeated, a look of concern passing over her face. “That...ah. That might present us with some interesting challenges in the near future.”

Interesting challenges? Raust waved that away. “We’ve got plenty of provisions. It’s that fae we should be worried about. If she’s caught outside in these conditions, there’s no telling what will happen, iceborn or no—“

“Mon vieil ami. As much as I do truly care about Shrike, we have something more immediate to deal with.” Chime gestured behind her with a back wing, and for the first time he noticed Quint hovering in the air above something bloody and misshapen. Raust raised an eyebrow, reaching out to prevent his young warcat from scampering over to investigate. “What exactly...is that?”

“That is a nochnyr,” Chime told him, with no small amount of distaste in her voice.

“Yeah,” Quint piped up from above them. “We killed it! We took care of it, no problem.”

“Oui. No problem. Yet.” The spiral delicately raised a claw to her lips, urging silence. “Do you hear that?”

Raust shifted his focus and picked up on the sound immediately: click-click-click, a threatening scrabble that echoed from somewhere below, sending tiny vibrations from the stone into his claws. He shivered, crest flicking in discomfort. “What...?”


“To give an educated guess,” Chime replied grimly, glancing back at the nochnyr, “more of those. Many, many more. If there’s a storm outside, as you say, they must have decided the lair would be a nice, warm place to hide from it...”

“All right,” Raust muttered, half to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose. How quickly everything had gone to hell. “All right. How dangerous are these creatures? Can we get them to leave us alone?”

“Optimistically? Non. From what I have heard, they are not overly fond of dragons. If we’re lucky, there might be some impalers down there as well. Twice as big, three times as mean.”

Raust’s warcat gave a yowl, finally ignoring the nochnyr carcass to hide behind the skydancer’s front legs. He stared down at it absently. “Can we fight our way out? There’s no chance of using the door by the armory. The caves are our only other option.”

The spiral didn’t answer him right away, but averted her eyes, coils twisting slowly in thought. “Quint,” she said suddenly, “be a dear and pack up some provisions. We may have to hold out somewhere for a while.” Although he rolled his eyes, the little plague dragon grudgingly moved away to the back of the kitchen to do as she asked. As soon as he was out of sight, Chime moved closer to Raust, lowering her voice. “It might be possible, depending on just how many there are, but...” She glanced up, making sure Quint was still out of earshot, “he’s a liability. Quint is too young for this kind of fight, and I would rather not see blood spilled unnecessarily. We try to fight, he gets himself killed, maybe gets us killed as well.”

Lips pressed into a thin line, Raust thought it over. As much as he hated to admit it, the thief may have had a point. “Very well. But—“

There was a sudden rustle of wings behind him. “Um. Not to interrupt you guys, or anything,” Quint interrupted. “But those things downstairs. What do we do?”

Raust and Chime exchanged glances. “We will go up to the armory,” the spiral announced. “Make sure we cannot get out that way.”

“I’m telling you—“ Raust objected, but Chime cut him off with a warning glare and began striding purposefully out of the kitchen, leaving him little choice but to follow. The scratching noise grew fainter as the three of them made their way up through the tunnels, but it never quite went away.

When they reached the well-camouflaged door at the end of their ascent, Chime gave it a firm push – first with her front claws, and then with her shoulder, digging her back claws into the ground to try and gain some purchase. As Raust could have told her, the door didn’t budge, staying stubbornly shut under the weight of the snow. “Well,” Chime huffed. “That’s that. Quint, the two of us are going down below to try and get eyes on the situation. I want you to stay here – go in the armory and lock the door.”

“I can come fight too,” the fae objected. His voice was as monotonous as ever, but his fans were waving in a slow manner that struck Raust as sullen.

“Ah!” Chime cut in before Raust could respond. “I know this, mon jeune ami. That is we why have given you the most important job of all! We have been storing some of our things up here, oui? Weapons, food...these things must be kept well-guarded. And besides, this is the only other possible way out, so we cannot be overtaken here. Stay here and keep the door locked, but if those creatures breach it, are you prepared to defend these rooms?”

Raust felt it was a rather obvious ploy, but the little dragon seemed to take the bait, puffing out his chest and nodding. “I can do it.”

“Merveilleux. We will be counting on you.” She gave him a mock salute, which he returned enthusiastically before following her instructions and pulling the heavy door closed. Raust couldn’t be sure, but the spiral looked a little paler than usual. “Well handled,” he muttered to her, “but what now?”

“Well, we might as well go see what it looks like down there,” Chime mused, her tone uncharacteristically somber. “Maybe there are openings we can block off. Just do that dissolve-y thing you did on the mushroom, and we’ll be fine.”

The two of them lapsed into silence as they continued through the tunnels; Raust felt a wariness he had never felt here before. Part of him wanted to cast about for a weapon as the scrabbling grew louder and louder, filling his ears. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Chime laid a hand lightly on his shoulder, gesturing with the other to a rusted grate in the floor. Together, they peered down through it, and the sight below made Raust’s heart stutter in his chest. The chute below was a veritable sea of nochnyr, one blending into another until all he could see was a mass of white and red fur. They moved almost like insects, or even machines, bone-like legs marching with a rhythmic precision. When Chime glanced up at him, he saw his own fear mirrored in her eyes. “Fighting may be...not an option,” she mouthed at him.

“Where does this chute lead? Can we stop them from getting in here?” he whispered back. The spiral was silent for a moment, gears turning in her head. “Garbage chute,” she hissed. “Kitchen.”

The two of them raced down the hall, skidding into the cavernous room where the clicking was now almost unbearably loud. Chime made a beeline for the corner by the oven, where he could see a small entrance in the wall. As they approached it, a single bony leg protruded hesitantly from the darkness beyond...

“Chime! Wait!” Raust shouted, diverting his path to one of the older, more rotted cabinets. The hinges were almost rusted through, and the door came off easily when he tugged at it. “Here!” he called out, tossing the heavy wooden panel to her – and belatedly realizing that she was substantially smaller than he was. Thankfully, she dodged out of the way with a scowl before it hit her, letting it clatter to the floor. “Use it to block the chute!”

“Yes, I am not stupid,” he heard her mutter; she was already dragging the panel over the chute, slamming it over the dark entrance just as the first nochnyr muzzle appeared. ”Merci,” she called out, but her smirk was wiped away as something banged forcefully against the panel, nearly knocking it over. Chime threw her weight against it, eyes wide as the creatures furiously scratched and pushed at the sudden impediment. Raust rushed to help, adding his weight to the panel. While they hadn’t looked very large, the nochnyr were surprisingly strong, and it took both of them to keep the cabinet door vertical. “This isn’t going to work,” Chime said through gritted teeth. “Go find something heavier. I can hold them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go!” she snarled, bracing her coils against the corner wall. “Hurry!”

Needing no other prompting, Raust left her holding the door and began to look frantically around the kitchen. Counters? No, they were bolted to the floor. None of the their cooking implements were large or heavy enough. Maybe they could pull up floorboards, use them to prop the cabinet door...

“The oven!” Chime shouted at him. “Right here!”

Raust turned his attention to the appliance in question; carved from stone, it was certainly heavy enough to do the trick. He put a shoulder against it and pushed, but it didn’t budge.

“Hurry up!” the spiral called out to him, which wasn’t particularly helpful. He put his shoulder against the oven again and threw his weight behind it, gritting his teeth as the edge of his wing was pinched between the stone and his body. To his relief, it moved this time. He kept pushing, and the oven grated slowly against the floor, sliding inch by inch over to the corner. A grunt of pain sounded to his left; Chime was still holding the chute closed, but her forelegs were trembling from exertion. “If you could go any faster,” she said in a deceivingly calm voice, “that would be lovely.”

“It’s very heavy,” he snapped, shoving the oven forward another measly inch. It was only a foot away from the chute, but it might as well have been a mile.

“Oh, for Windsinger’s sake,” the spiral snapped back, letting the cabinet door fall with a clatter. Before he could ask what she was doing, she had joined him in a flash, adding her weight to the oven as nochnyr streamed out of the chute. They closed the space before them – three, two, one – and the oven slammed against the wall with a satisfying thud, forcing some of the nochnyr back in the entrance. Raust immediately leapt into the air – even with its arching ceiling, the kitchen afforded little room for flight, but there was no other way to escape the creatures lunging for his legs. A rustle of wings behind him indicated that Chime had done the same.

Unable to stay in the air without his wings scraping the ceiling, Raust landed heavily on a countertop, assessing their situation. Four nochnyr had made it out before they’d closed the chute, and they were clearly not happy about the situation, closing in on Raust while making an eerie crackling hiss. “Only four!” he called out. “We can take them!”

“Way ahead of you,” came a voice from above; Chime shot past him and made for one of the nochnyr, snatching it off the ground and grappling with it for just moments before it fell to the floor, dead. This did little to subdue the others; one crouched, preparing to leap at Chime, while the other two stalked toward Raust, their legs clicking against the flagstone. Trying to quell his nervousness, Raust reached desperately for the quiet place at the back of his mind. His magic wasn’t coming as readily as it had before; it was like a fading plant, left too long without the sun. The nochnyr seemed to sense his struggle and one leapt for him, skeletal mouth open in a grimace. Jerking backward, he tried casting again – this time it worked, an ooze of green magic that left his fingers and stopped the creature in its tracks.

Before he could celebrate, he felt a sudden weight on his flank; the remaining nochnyr had launched itself at him, burying its spear-like front legs in his side. A fiery pain came a second later, and he cried out involuntarily, trying to shake the thing off. Instantly, there was a dark shape next to him; Chime pulled the creature away and swiftly dispatched it. “I think the fae might have been more useful in a fight, actually,” she sighed, adjusting her scarf from where it had come undone around her neck. “At least he’s good with a frying pan. Are you all right?”

Raust hissed through his teeth. “Ahhh. Don’t know.”

Her face expressionless, Chime drew closer, examining the place the nochnyr had gored him. “Well, you’ve got two holes in your nice cloak,” he heard her murmur, and then felt gentle hands pulling back the fabric. “That bad?” he asked as she hissed under her breath.

“You’ll live,” she muttered, “nowhere as bad as what I got escaping a stronghold in the Lightning Farm once. I shut down the electricity to the security fence, which was well and good, but I’d forgotten that the spires were still very...how do you say it...pointy—“

“Chime. Maybe another time.”

“Oui. I suppose you’d like me to, ah, do something about this...” He felt fabric being wound across his midsection; the spiral pulled it tight to tie it off, making him wince. “I only have the one scarf,” she told him, sounding put out, “so don’t hurt yourself again. Quite an expensive bandage, so you should be grateful. I imagine not many dragons have had to get bloodstains out of Passade originals...”

“Thanks,” he grunted, uncomfortable with the thought of being grateful to the thief for anything. “We should get back up to Quint, let him know that the problem’s taken care of.”

Chime nodded, falling silent. Raust gingerly made his way down from the counter and padded for the kitchen entrance; even though he kept his steps short and slow, every movement exacerbated the fire in his side. Between this injury and the scratch he’d received from the warcat, this journey was shaping up to be one of his most hazardous yet. And he’d spent time communing with the Plaguebringer at the Wyrmwound. Gladekeeper take those nochnyr. At least we’re finished with them now.

They hadn’t made it far down the hallway when Chime paused, ears pricking up under the brim of her hat. “Attends. Am I just hearing things, or...?”

With a sense of dread, Raust turned slowly. At the very end of the hall, one slender, bony leg appeared around the corner, quickly followed by the nochnyr’s misshapen body. “Didn’t we block off the tunnel?” Raust whispered, not daring to raise his voice more than a breath.

The spiral’s coils froze in place. “Ah. Well. I maybe forgot about the dungeons. The trash chute just might have another entrance down there.”

“You...” Raust’s retort died in his throat as the first nochnyr was joined by another, and then another. In seconds, dozens were spilling down the corridor, headed straight for them. “Run.”

They turned and fled, Raust biting back a cry as his wound protested the movement. He was running as fast as his body would let him, but he realized quickly that it wasn’t fast enough – the nochnyr were gaining on them every second. Time for a change of plan. “This way!”

He veered down a hallway to their left, Chime close behind, for once lacking in snappy remarks. By the time they made it to the temple, the creatures were nearly on their heels. “This way,” he repeated, snapping his wings open and taking to the air. He would have felt a sense of relief at getting out of the nochnyrs’ reach, if it wasn’t for the burst of pain in his side.

“Are we here to pray for divine help?” Chime panted, twisting through the air around him. “You know those things can climb, right? And jump? We can’t stay in the air forever.”

Ignoring her, he cast about for the wood carvings he’d been deciphering a few days ago – there they were, close to the ground, not far from the grand figures of the Icewarden and Flamecaller. A little part of him died as he watched a nochnyr skewer a page of meticulous notes, but that was a problem for another time. “Down there!” he called out, making a beeline for the section of wall.

“Have you lost your mind?” he heard the spiral call back, but she followed anyway.

“Cover me!” he shouted as soon as his claws touched the floor; he pushed for the wall, trying not to let fear overwhelm him as he fended off angry nochnyr left and right. Chime arrived at his back a moment later, slashing at the creatures with sharp claws; they fell back in surprise, giving him the second’s reprieve he needed. Hopefully he could remember what to do – if only he still had his notes.

Muttering to himself, Raust traced one section of the carving with a claw, and then another section. Nothing happened. Trying not to panic, he repeated the gesture, and this time was rewarded with a clanking noise from within the wall. A section of heavy planks popped out; he dug his claws into the edge and heaved it open. “Come on!” he called to the spiral; she turned, eyes widening in surprise at the doorway that had suddenly appeared. Chime didn’t need to be told twice – in seconds she had shot past him into the space beyond, and he quickly followed, slamming the door shut before the nochnyr could follow.

The sudden stillness and total darkness were jarring; Raust slumped back against the door, trying to catch his breath. He could hear Chime breathing heavily somewhere in front of him; there was a rustle as she moved around the chamber, investigating. “What...is this place?”

“Bolthole,” Raust grunted in reply. “They were common enough in more warlike clans. In times of danger, the priest would have hid here with any valuable religious writings or objects.”

“Well, I guess none of their priests were bigger than a mirror.” It was true; there was very little space in the chamber for both of them. As Chime turned, her tail brushed against Raust’s wing. “Pardon. Well. Nice to be not about to die. Cramped or not, nice to have some company, non?”

“Stop doing that.”

“What?”

“Pretending we’re friends.”

The spiral fell silent at his remark; he could hear her coiling herself up in the opposite corner. For a moment, he sensed her composure slipping, giving way to something turbulent below. He’d been harsh, maybe – the stress was making him snappy – but he wasn’t about to take it back. She’d been acting more and more friendly toward him lately, and while there was a part of him that did badly want to trust her, he knew better. They were sharing a common goal, that was all; Chime would turn on him the instant it benefitted her. Dragons didn’t change.

When she spoke again, her tone was even, emotions once again unreadable. “If you’ll permit me asking, monsieur, did your plan have a follow-up? Or are we just trying to wait out our new guests?”

Raust’s reply was interrupted by a new sound outside; something scraped against the door, softly at first, then more insistently. Bone against wood. “They’re trying to get through the door.”

“Trying?” Chime whispered back as the ancient wood shook under the impact. “They are getting through the door.”

They sat frozen for a moment; Raust felt himself able to do little else but stare at the door, listening to the tap of pointed legs against the barrier. The sound was like a ticking clock. A countdown. “We’re going to die.”

“With that attitude, sure. Go pray to your gods or something.” He could hear a click of claws from her corner, as if she were pacing in a very small circle. “We cannot wait for them to get in here and corner us. We face them on our own terms, we have more of a chance.”

Raust didn’t want to think about what kind of chance that was, but they were out of options. “Agreed.”

”Oui. Count of three, we fling open this door, fly up. Make for the highest crossbeam. We will figure out our next step from there.” Raust nodded resolutely, then realized she couldn’t see the motion in the darkness. “Okay.”

The thief joined him at the door; this close, he could hear how rapidly her heart was beating. “One. Two. Three—“

Together, they pulled the bar down and pushed the door open; Raust narrowly dodged snapping jaws and unfurled his wings, launching into the air. He made a beeline for the crossbeam they’d planned on, but as soon as his claws touched wood, there was a cry behind him. Jerking his head around, he turned just in time to see Chime yanked out of the air by her tail, dragged down by a pack of nochnyr and nearly disappearing under them. Fear blossomed in his chest. “Chime!”

Barely registering what he was doing, Raust launched from the crossbeam and plummeted to earth, landing among a writhing mass of the creatures. He could see Chime in the melee, coils frantically twisting in an effort to shake off the pouncing monsters. Jaws closed on him – a wingtip, a leg – but he barely registered the bites as he pushed his way toward her, reaching for an outstretched hand. The second he had a firm grip, he snapped his wings open with force, buffeting the nochnyr as he struggled to lift off. Below him, Chime struggled and snapped at the offending creatures, fighting to free herself. He adjusted his grip on her and pushed off again, this time somehow gaining purchase. Shaking away the lights dancing in his vision, he limped through the air to the beam, where he laid the spiral down as best he could before landing heavily beside her. “Chime,” he said frantically, “are you hurt?”

The spiral found her feet, looking down at herself. “No,” he heard her say eventually, and was surprised by the relief that washed over him. “Just scratches. Evading injury is something of a specialty I have.” She paused, looking at him uncertainly. “Thank you, by the way. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he heard himself say, suddenly feeling exhausted, “and it’s nothing. What now?” The nochbyr below were regarding them with beady eyes; some of the more adventurous were attempting to climb up the walls, goatlike. It wouldn’t be long before they reached them.

“We will worry about that in a second. Here, your bandage has come undone – if you could crouch down a moment, I can reach it...”

He obliged, and a moment later felt deft hands adjusting the scarf around his torso. “There,” Chime said authoritatively. “Listen. Quint is still up in the armory, and they might be able to get at him too. We need to reach him first – out and over this pack, best we can.”

Raust knew it was a fool’s errand – they’d be taken down before they got out of the temple. But there was little else for it. “Let’s go.”

Chime took off with a ripple of wings, but when he went to follow her, he found himself somehow unable to move from his position. As he struggled to get free, the spiral turned back to look at him with a smirk. “Désolée. Had to be done. I am good at making these things angry, so I will see if I can get them to chase me back into the tunnels. Maybe find a way to block them off. You go to Quint, oui? Keep him safe.”

Craning his neck back, Raust finally realized that she’d tied him to the beam with the scarf, using a series of intricate knots. “You’re going to get yourself killed,” he shouted, trying to adjust his body to reach the knots. “This wasn’t your decision to make!”

Chime shrugged merrily, twisting her body through the air in a complicated pattern. “Ah, I will be just fine. You know much more about that egg business. Go save the world.” She flew low above the nochnyr pack, staying just out of reach of their teeth.

“Chime!” She paused, turning back. “I’m sorry about...what I said earlier.”

As she regarded him for a moment, Raust thought he could sense something softer about her, and sadder. But before he could focus on it, she tipped her hat and was gone, the enraged nochnyr chasing after her.

Thief or not, he couldn’t let her do this.

Redoubling his efforts with the knots, he finally teased one out, and then another, until the scarf loosened enough to let him wriggle free. He heard himself calling out after the spiral as he careened through the temple and out into the hallway, horror rising in his throat as he navigated each twist and turn, fully expecting a grisly scene to unfold before him at any moment. As he turned the final corner toward the dungeons, though, an unexpected sight caused him to pull up short and nearly tumble out of the air. The floor was carpeted in slain nochnyr, and in the center of it all was Chime, alive and well. Next to her was a complete stranger, covered in armor, who was in the process of calmly wiping a sword clean on a patch of nochnyr fur.

“Raust!” he heard Chime call out pleasantly. “Nice to see you. I’ve made a new friend.”

The stranger – a nocturne – paused in her work and straightened up, removing her helmet. “A pleasure,” said the dragon coolly. “My name is Sigrid, and I’ve just saved your life.”

@Cerastes
Ooh glad to see an update! New faces! <3

@Cerastes
Hooray, an update! I'm glad Sigrid finally met up with (most of) the gang. Poor Raust, though! I hope he makes a full recovery.