15. Bird Crimes

The ballroom shimmered with candlelight and laughter, the air thick with the scent of wine and expensive perfumes. While the crowd’s attention lingered on the late arrival, Talon leaned in close to Cre, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Fancy a mission?” The offer was fleeting—barely a whisper—and with knowing glances exchanged, the two melted into the shadows, slipping past silk-clad revelers and vanishing into the night.   Lia, however, had no such stealthy exit. She stood before her mother, lips pressed into a firm line, listening intently. The truth unraveled before her—Astaria and Cressida were not merely guests; they were bound by blood, aunt and niece and were here to announce the news of Astarias engagement to the Emperor of Ironoak. The revelation stirred something uneasy inside her, a shift in perspective she hadn’t been prepared for. With duty outweighing decorum, she relayed the information to the group before making her own quiet escape.   Unbeknownst to each other, the three found their paths converging upon the Library, its towering presence both ominous and inviting beneath the moon’s cold glow. Cre and Talon moved like specters, weaving their way unseen to a secluded balcony that overlooked the vast chamber. Lia, on the other hand, met resistance—a pair of guards, suspicious and unyielding, blocking her entry. It took clever words and carefully masked authority to convince them that her presence was justified. Only when their wary gazes drifted elsewhere did she slip inside.   The moment she crossed the threshold, something stirred. A flicker in the corner of her eye. A shadow within the shadows. Then—movement. A hooded woman emerged from the gloom, her face partially revealed, her voice a quiet murmur. “Are you the one I am meant to meet?”   Lia stiffened. The words held meaning, but not for her. She opened her mouth, only for hesitation to steal her response. The woman seemed to sense it, for without another word, she pulled the hood back into place and disappeared into the dark.   A sudden whisper—no, not a whisper, a thought. Talon’s voice, threading its way into Lia’s mind with an enigmatic question: Flamingos get their colour due to the shellfish they eat   Lia blinked, bewildered: Huh?   Talon responded: Speak Flamingo and you will see   Lia further confused pinches the bridge of her nose and through scrunched up eyes says: Flamingos ????   And just like that, the hooded woman revealed herself again, her presence solidifying like mist becoming flesh.   Talon wasted no time. With a calculated descent, he landed beside her, movement sleek and effortless, and together, they melted into the labyrinth of towering bookshelves, seeking sanctuary in the rows of knowledge. Here an exchanged occur unknowingly to any other.   Elsewhere, Lia fulfilled her purpose. Hands deft, swift, careful—she swapped the family tree scrolls as instructed by her mother. But the sensation of being watched gnawed at her. A shimmer—subtle, eerie—shifted behind her, an unseen force she could not quite name. However she realised likely the other other woman leaving their business completed.   Cre, meanwhile, drifted across the vast chamber, his gaze drawn upwards. The great book loomed overhead, held aloft by stone angels whose expressions of reverence were frozen in time. The sapphire embedded upon its cover gleamed like a trapped star.   The dream from the previous night clawed its way back into his consciousness. Without thought, without doubt, he broke a fragment of his tail, the bone an unlikely tool. He reached—lifting, prying—and the book broke free from its celestial prison.   Then it happened.   The rug-lined floor glowed, its edges pulsing with unnatural blue light. A tremor shook the air, an unsettling vibration rattling their bones.   And just as quickly as it had come—it was gone.