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was normal for humans or not. Certainly the other humans he'd seen in the village had had more color to them, but even faeries came in different shades of skin.
    Isaia was red. He hadn't bothered to try and hide that he was a dragon, though to be fair, it would've been difficult with the scales that traced his body. He wore nothing but another scarf around his waist, like he had the previous evening, and his skin was suffused with angry color. He'd never turned that red at Amantea.
    But who was 'she'?
    "You'll tell me, whether you want to or not," Isaia growled, stalking closer. He stopped a bare foot away from Naldo, who only raised his eyebrows.
    "It's just two scales, Isaia. I know you lose more than that in any given week." Naldo smiled. "You give me those, and I'll tell you where she is and stop sending people after you. I knew that flit wouldn't do you any harm, but the next one might."
    Amantea bristled but stayed where he was. He could still throw Naldo into a portal, but he wasn't sure he could do it with Isaia there, throwing a huge kink in everything.
    "No. You let her go. She has nothing to do with this," Isaia said. He flexed his hands, and his claw-tipped fingers looked particularly deadly to Amantea. Naldo didn't seem to be concerned, however, lifting his chin stubbornly. Before he could reply, however, he started coughing—and kept coughing.
    Amantea frowned, wondering what was wrong with him. He kept coughing, and even Isaia frowned. Naldo held up a hand and turned back toward the house. Amantea ducked back, hoping he hadn't been spotted. A moment later, he heard the door shut, and he peeked back out. Naldo was gone, presumably inside the house.
    Isaia, however, was staring straight at him, and he looked like he was about to come over and strangle Amantea. Amantea scowled at him, ignoring it when Isaia tried to pantomime that he should leave. He wasn't going to. Naldo was his problem, too, and he wasn't going to leave and simply hope everything worked out.
    Naldo didn't immediately reappear, and Amantea wondered if he was trying to make a break for it. Probably not. He'd seemed like he had Isaia right where he wanted him, after all. Amantea shifted forms to his smaller, winged form, tugging off his shirt and tying it around his arm. Then he flew over to where Isaia stood. He wanted to know what Naldo had on Isaia. And if it was as simple as giving Naldo a few dragon scales, why wouldn't he?
    "You're not supposed to be here, flit," Isaia said when he got close enough.
    "You aren't my mother," Amantea replied. It was weak, but it was the best he had. "Who does he have?"
    "What?" Isaia asked, lifting a hand for Amantea to land on. Amantea eschewed it, not wanting to get caged up in Isaia's hands again, and instead went to land on his shoulder. That way, he wouldn't have to shout to be heard.
    Isaia tensed when Amantea landed on him, but his shoulders were nice and broad and steady, so Amantea had no trouble finding a perch. He kept an eye on the back door, but Naldo made no signs of reappearing. "He said he had someone of yours."
    "How long were you there?" Isaia asked, staring straight forward. At the back door of the cottage.
    Amantea didn't answer that, repeating his question. "Who is she?"
    "It's not any of your business, flit," Isaia said, but he sounded tired, not angry, that Amantea was asking. "I'll get Naldo to lay off your nest. Just go back there and you'll be fine."
    Amantea bristled and stomped his foot on Isaia's shoulder. "I'm not a flit. Stop calling me that. I'm not useless, and I'm not going away until I know it's safe. I—"
    The back door opened, and Amantea jumped off Isaia's shoulder, carefully hiding behind Isaia as he flew down to the ground. Hopefully Naldo hadn't seen him, though Amantea didn't suppose it mattered if he did. Amantea didn't have anything to hide. Peeking around Isaia's calf, Amantea stared at Naldo. He looked worse: paler, and there was a sallowness to his face that