The rest of the detour to Ardes was much the same as it was in Buckley. Melusine cleared away rubble, and Baugulf arranged for, and delivered trade en route. The more days that passed, the more bodies Melusine would uncover under burnt debris. The last living person she managed to save was a young girl who'd barely seen her fifth winter.

She'd survived five days trapped in a collapsed cupboard under the destroyed stairs of the local inn. When the fire had spread, the floorboards gave out under her and she'd fallen to the lower level. She'd survived on water leakage and weeds in the inn basement. It was through sheer dumb luck and strength of will that she'd lasted as long as she did. Mel had to admit, it was rare to find that kind of tenacity in a child, much less the offspring of a hoity book merchant.

When the little girl's father tried to offer Melusine money as a reward, she refused. Instead, she pointed at the handcart stacked full of his merchandise. He'd managed to salvage plenty of his stock while his daughter had been unaccounted for. In fact, he'd seemed holy unconcerned about his child's wellbeing until the innkeep had told Melusine about the missing girl.

"Do you have any blank books to write in? Preferably small enough to fit in a pocket," she asked, making sure to stare him dead in the eyes. The merchant was mildly perturbed at first, but quickly plastered on his best smile.

"Yes, yes," he simpered, "I think I have just the thing."

While the merchant removed his meaty mitts from his daughter's thin shoulders and waddled over to his cart, Melusine glanced at the girl.

Her wavy wheat-brown hair was in disarray from her long ordeal. Her pale blue dress, dyed brown with coal and dirt, was expensive, but her body lacked meat. Something in the way she stared straight ahead and barely blinked, how still she stood, as well as how resigned she seemed... it tugged at Melusine's mind.

Mel squatted down so she was eye level with the soot and soil covered child.

"I was so focused on getting you out that I never learned your name, much less introduced myself." Mel held out her hand for the tenacious survivor to shake. "My name is Melusine. What's yours?"

"Tia," she replied, shaking Mel's hand with both of her little ones.

"Here you are," Tia's father interrupted, holding out a little book. It was burned around the edges, and had a few blackened holes in the leather binding, but it was sturdy enough.

Melusine turned from Tia to the merchant as she stood up straight. She stared at him for a moment too long, just to see how he'd squirm. The book seller shifted his heavy weight to one foot and glanced at his daughter. For the briefest of moments, suspicion and fury flashed across his expression.

Melusine snatched the little leather-bound notebook from the fat man. She plastered on her own fake smile—a teeth gritting grin. An attempt at a mirthful glint in the eyes only resulted in a malicious squint. It was a horribly done effort to put people at ease, but this time it worked in Mel's favor. The merchant squealed and hurriedly withdrew with Tia. For a second Mel recalled the image of a pig running away from the slaughtering block, and felt her saliva glands activate. She swallowed and turned to Baugulf.

"Did you ever learn the names of the people who died in Belozer?" Mel asked.

Paul Montague

Rosa Banks

Robert Banks

Melusine stared at Baugulf's handwriting on the first page of her booklet. Even to an illiterate like Melusine, it was an elegant and straight script.

"Do you plan to have me write every death you feel is your fault?" Baugulf asked, sitting on a stool in the emergency tent they had been given. There had been some troubling rumors circulating around the area about the two of them, but neither had the heart to request a second tent from those that were struggling.

"You talk like you think there will be more than these three." Mel shot Baugulf a piercing look from where she lay on the single cot. His lips pursed, guilt wrinkling his gorgeous face. Mel showed mercy and returned to staring at the names. "I'd settle for anyone that's around. Hopefully though, my efforts to not let the list grow will be successful."

Baugulf grunted like he was just punched in the gut, coughed into his hand, and then crawled onto the floor so he could lay down. "Are you alright?" Melusine asked, peeking over the edge of her booklet.

"I'm fine," Baugulf assured, waving a hand. "Just, err... choked on my own spit."

Melusine quirked up an eyebrow and perked an ear. The knight's heart was beating like a marching war drum.

"You're so clumsy," Mel teased while knowing full well that her escort was lying. She closed the notebook and tossed it next to her pillow. The ring on her middle finger was absently twisted in circles.

"Ahah, that's me. Clumsy Baugulf." His voice was weak and at a higher pitch than normal. Melusine sat up and swung her feet over the cot edge.

"Anyway, do you remember Tia? The little girl from this evening—the book merchant's child?"

"Yes?" Baugulf lifted his head to peer at Mel. "What about her?"

"Doesn't something about the way the merchant was acting put you off? Something was wrong, and I'm worried–"

"Yes, I think she's being abused in some form or fashion," Baugulf admitted, cutting Melusine off as he closed his eyes.

"You don't care?" Mel's claws tapped on the edge of the bed, the sharp points pricking the cotton sheets. Her head tilted and her eyes narrowed at her knight escort.

"Don't assume those kinds of things, Miss Melusine. Of course I care. But the real question is, what can be done about it? What can we do about it?"

"Confront him." Melusine's answer was given as if her idea of tactical negotiation should've been obvious, righteous as it was.

"Ah, yes." Baugulf sat up, crossing his ankles and tossing his head back. "Except that a straightforward approach isn't effective in this scenario. What are you going to do when he denies harming the child and demands reparations for slander?"

"Isn't there some way to get the child away from him?"

"Sure there are." Baugulf threw up a hand and turned to face Melusine. "You can purchase her off of him, or offer to adopt her. Most people have to do both. Are you prepared to adopt a five year old child, Melusine? Hm?"

Forced to seriously consider the consequences of her ethics, Melusine went quiet, pondering her response. The answer to the question was a resounding no, but that awful itch at the back of her mind wouldn't go away. Mel glanced down at Baugulf, who was staring at her with a frown.

"You could," she stated, watching as Baugulf really did choke on his own spit. 

"What? No I couldn't! What would Octavia think? She'd tan my hide!"

"All because you saved a child out of the goodness of your heart?" Melusine clutched at her imaginary pearls and leaned back, pretending to be aghast. "Lady Lemaire is positively ruthless."

"Miss Melusine, you can't be seriously suggesting that I, an unwed man, adopt a child I just met while working."

"That is absolutely what I'm suggesting." Melusine got to her feet and paced around the tent.

"No. Absolutely not. I'm sorry, Melusine, but no. I have no possible way to properly care for a child, and if I asked Octavia to do it in my stead it would be nothing short of selfish."

"Then what can I do?"

"Short of chasing down the merchant and demanding that he look after his daughter properly? Nothing, I'm afraid." Mel perked up, her back straight and eyes wide.

"I think I can work with that idea."

"What? Melusine, no! I was being facetious!" Baugulf reached out to grab ahold of Mel's shoulder, but she was already dashing out of the tent, the fly flapping in her wake. Melusine could hear Baugulf groan loudly and grab his cloak from the post of the cot. She giggled as she ran over to Wolf, sniffing at the air like she was a beast.

"Let's go chase down a piggy, Wolf." Her horse nickered and trotted to meet her at the sound of his name. She'd taken to borrowing Baugulf's trousers during rescue efforts, so hopping onto her horse and riding off was a swifter ordeal than it otherwise would have been.

"Melusine, wait! Don't go–" Baugulf called out, throwing his cloak over his shoulders. Melusine clicked her heels into Wolf's sides and galloped down the town road, smelling the air and detecting whiffs of the musky scent of old books. "–running off. It's like herding cats to keep this girl out of trouble," he grumbled to the night air, believing no one could hear him.

Melusine used to be so afraid of the dark, of the infinite amount of things that crept through the abyss. But on this night she was especially exhilarated by the crisp air and the light of the full moon. There was an itch, a craving carving and curling beneath her skin, begging to be set free. With a haze over her mind, she removed the malachite ring around her middle finger.

The transformation was seamless. She felt the barest of tingles as her body reshaped itself while atop her horse. She tied the ring in the string of her collar, and leapt off of Wolf. Mel called her steed's name, bidding him to run with her, and galloped on all fours. Her cheeks and the tips of her ears grew numb from the bracing slipstream breeze that brushed her bangs away from her face. Her talons dug up clumps of dirt that wedged between her fingertips and nails. Baugulf's voice calling her name was faint, a mere afterthought in her mind.

Mel followed the scent of the book merchant's wares, and discovered that he was fleeing in the middle of the night. He'd packed his remaining merchandise into a covered wagon and wedged his child into a small corner between stacks of books. Tia sat crouched, hugging her knees and staring blankly at nothing. The fat man sat in the front seat, grumbling to himself with a heavy frown. Melusine stopped to hitch her horse to a tree, then darted off road and into the charred remains of a forest. She circled around the cart like a predator on the prowl, low to the ground and remaining on all fours.

"I had half a mind to leave and never look back," the merchant muttered half to himself. "If you were going to die, you should've just died, you stupid bastard." Tia tightened her grip on her arms, curling into a tighter ball among the stacks of tomes.

A rattling hiss clicked in the back of Melusine's throat. Scaling up a barren and seared tree trunk, Mel watched the wagon pass by. The merchant startled and peered around the side of his wagon. What he saw in the darkness was an eight foot tall shadow with big glowing red eyes. That pig-like squeal echoed in the deathly silence of the decimated forest. The merchant beat the reins, urging the horses into a break-neck gallop.

Melusine launched off the trunk. Landing on the canvas shield, her talons ripped holes into the fabric, long tears left behind as she crawled over to the front of the wagon. She dropped down into the driver's seat and yanked hard onto the reins still clutched in the merchant's grasp. The horses skidded to a stop as best they could, hooves clopping and nostrils snorting.

Mel tugged the leather straps out of the book seller's grip, and clasped her other hand around his thick neck, soft and folded with fat.

"Hello," she greeted with a fanged smirk. He squawked and scrambled off of the seat. Mel allowed him to break free, her talons leaving scratches in his flesh. Wide red eyes watched the man scurry backwards on his hands and buttock, heels scrapping up piles of ash.

"M-Monster!" He screamed, a sausage finger shaking at Melusine.

That horrific word, monster, was what snapped Melusine's mind from its haze. Like the moment a bizarre dream was broken by lucidity, Melusine became aware that her actions were not her own. But while her sense of self had returned to her, she remained a passive observer, content to see the play through to the end.

The Dragon's Proxy's eyes narrowed as her throat clicked. A fanged jaw opened wide, and green flames roiled out of her mouth and skirted along the wagon, ground, and the merchant. The bookseller crumpled with a terrified, agonized scream.

"What a mess you've made," a vaguely familiar male voice muttered in her ear.

A sting pierced into the back of Melusine's neck. She patted her scaled skin, trying to feel what the cause was. The world went black, and the last thing she felt and heard was her body hitting the ground.

Melusine woke up in the cot, laid out on her back. The scratching and swiping of a wet cloth being run down the length of a blade tickled Mel's sensitive ears. She turned her head to see Baugulf doing maintenance on his sword. He sat on the floor with his back to her, the flat of Breathtaker resting on his knee.

"What happened?" Melusine groaned. Her attempt to sit up only caused her head to swim and forced her to lay her throbbing skull on her pillow.

"Nothing of import," Baugulf informed her. He placed the wet cloth down beside himself and began to dry the blade with his handkerchief in brisk and sharp strokes.

Melusine rubbed at her weary face, feeling the bump of her ring returned to her finger. She lifted her hand to gaze at the glinting jewel ring, then dropped it down onto her stomach. Rolling over onto her side, she pulled her booklet close and opened it. Mel's eyes were dull and lifeless as she stared at the first page, a sense of dread and guilt enveloping her like a thick pall.

Two new names were added below the three victims from Belozer.