Forty-Two: Caught You Red-Handed

“Hold it.” Ama’s face dimmed like a cloud swallowing the sun. Lilith saw her right hand twitch, a snake in tall grass. She didn’t catch what came out, but something was suddenly in the elf’s palm—clearly a weapon. Steel in hand, spring-breeze smile on her face, the elf cooed, “Miss Outsider, that’s not fair talk. What proof do you have that I traffic children? Every kid here I picked up in the South Market—strays with no parents’ warmth. Without me, they’d already be back in Icarus’s embrace.”

Annoyance first, then words: “Lord Icarus isn’t the god of life anymore. You should step outside and see the world, not bury yourself in books in a dark room.” Lilith, Icarus’s supposed (dubious) biological granddaughter, rolled her eyes at whatever version of the myth Ama was quoting. “Lamter’s relief system is solid now. These little ones should’ve been sent somewhere better long ago.”

She didn’t know Lanter’s orphanage specs. But it had to beat this cramped burrow. On the way in with Liya, she’d seen more than one child feverish and pale. Besides Liya’s third sister, there were three or four more. The tiny room wheezed with coughs, stale air clinging like damp cloth. If not for orcish bodies being tough as oak, Lilith would’ve worried how long they had.

“I don’t like to use force either, but a few of your kids won’t make it if they don’t see a healer now. As for what they stole—looking at how threadbare this place is, you probably already blew it all.” Her tone softened, wind before rain. “Surrender early. I’ll put in a word for you with the city lord.”

That wasn’t a bluff. The Little White Dragon had an egg in her belly; every move felt like wading through mud. Her overall state was bad. If she could, she wanted the elf to be sensible. No struggle, no blood. Better for both sides.

“If that’s how Miss Outsider puts it, I’m afraid I can’t oblige.” Ama stopped hiding. She bared the dagger in her right hand, a small blade set with a gem that screamed money. The matte edge drank light, gray as ash. Lilith could tell the dagger cost more than the elf’s whole outfit. Ama slid into a stance crisp as a drawn bow. This gentle, bookish elf wasn’t simple. Lilith shed her careless air and raised her guard, hackles up like a cat before a storm.

“Liya, out.” Ama’s voice dropped, cold water on coals.

“But…” The little werewolf froze, shocked that her Ama and Lilith were one spark from fire. Thin arms, no power to stop either. She stood rooted, a sapling in wind, not knowing what to do.

“Liya, go on.” Lilith coaxed her, matching worry with warmth. “Don’t worry. I won’t let either me or your Ama get hurt.”

She tossed a small pouch, silver coins whispering inside. “Take your third sister to a healer. Use what’s left to buy food for the others. And get the ones inside out for air. This place is a sealed jar.”

“I…” Liya took the money, still stuck on the threshold.

“Relax. It’ll be over soon.” Comfort first, then the promise. “By the time you’re back, it’ll look like nothing happened. You and the others will go somewhere kinder. After your Ama takes what’s due, you can visit her.”

“I understand.” With that, Liya clenched the pouch and ran. The room shrank to two: Lilith and Ama.

“Can you tell me your name?” With Liya gone, Lilith turned back. She lifted her right hand, moonlight in her eyes. “I don’t like violence. But when it’s the only tool, I prefer to know the name under my blade—oh, don’t worry, I’ll leave you alive.”

“Miss Outsider, that’s not a fun way to talk.” Ama’s face went iron-dark. She clenched the dagger and sprang, her feet tapping the floor like a swallow skimming a pond. “I’m not some nobody. A Demon from who-knows-where like you isn’t worthy of my name.”

“I knew you didn’t know me!” Lilith laughed, bright and sharp. She drew the Ancient Ark and met the dagger head-on, steel to steel. Then the little dragon snapped a kick at the elf, wind hissing.

Feather-mark on her lower belly flared, a pink dawn rising. Since Nidhogg forced her to mature, her resonance with the constellation had tightened. She didn’t need to tweak anything; a thought, and the starwork tuned itself to peak output.

So the saying holds: if you want power, bite the forbidden fruit.

She’d always run quick as a fox. With the Void Command Seat riding her, she outpaced Ama by streets and rivers. The elf saw only a flash of rose. The dagger got caught, then a hammer-blow smashed into her gut. She flew back and slammed the wall. Crash, dust like moths in light.

“Hey!” Lilith wasn’t stopping. Since turning dragon, she’d been the one getting bullied. At last she’d found a thinking creature she could steamroll. That lit a fire in her scales. She kicked off, a small cannonball streaking forward, and chopped down from above with a clean arc.

Ama whipped up her dagger to block. But Lilith’s sword slipped like a mirage. One breath it was clashing with the dagger, the next it lay cool and unerring against Ama’s throat.

The keen edge kissed skin. The elf felt blood bead and creep, a line of red ink.

“Now can you tell me your name?” Lilith’s smile bloomed, a flower that refused to wilt. The elf stared at the small girl’s gentle grin and couldn’t find a whisper of humor.

“If you won’t, I’ll guess. How about Miss Defeated-Under-My-Hand?” Vengeance flushed her, and Lilith puffed up like a little pufferfish. Finally, a newbie she could one-shot. Calling her a Demon? Hah.

“Whatever you prefer.” Ama chose to yield. She couldn’t say her real name anyway, so she let Lilith call her what she pleased.

Can’t beat her—what else can you do?

You take it.