I blinked my eyes and recoiled slightly as I traded the harsh artificial lighting of the Sentinels’ teleportation hangar for the dim blue light of the rising sun. By my side, Sigur angled his head this way and that, obviously scouting our surroundings for any immediate danger. When he was satisfied, and once my eyes adjusted to the faint light of the early morning, he nodded to me. “Good?”

“Good,” I answered, taking a look around. We’d been teleported onto an empty metal pad in a clearing in the middle of a forest. The familiar sounds of songbirds and the snapping of twigs as Auris’ wildlife foraged for the first meal of the day was all I heard. It felt like Sig and I were the only two people left on the planet.

I also noted that I didn’t see a quarry, or anything resembling one. “Where are we?” I asked, looking around for any signs of where we needed to go.

“The start of our hike,” Sig said, pointing toward a craggy mountain to the northeast. Although having spent almost all of my life living on a mountain, the biggest in the range, it was more like a big hill to me. “The mages had to teleport us somewhere safe so we didn’t end up halfway through a tree. Thankfully, the Bastion has a list of all of the rapid transit zones in the valley, so they knew precisely where to put us.”

He began to set off toward the mountain, and I fell in at his side. “Rapid transit zone?”

“The pad,” he said, scraping it with his talons for emphasis. “Field manuals that survived the Silence tell us that Equestria’s army was big on mobility and rapid response. Therefore, they employed unicorns specially trained in long-distance teleportation. They’d use them to move troops and equipment rapidly across the front to respond to any breaches or thrusts by an enemy. But to do that, they needed to have a dedicated reference point to ensure that the soldiers reached their assignments safely, no matter where they were teleported from.”

“So it’s basically a staging zone,” I said.

“Basically. The metal keeps plants from growing in the middle of the point, so we can be reasonably certain that we’re not literally going to become one with nature.”

“And when we attacked the Fort?” I asked. “I didn’t see any metal pads out there.”

Sigur nodded and flexed his talons in the soft earth as he stepped off the pad. “Right. The one we normally used was inside the Fort itself, if you remember from how we got everypony out of there. But the Crimson had blocked it with crates and that sort of thing, so we couldn’t use it. Instead, we had scouts go find a suitable target to use instead—although we never made it that far, because of somepony,” he said, angling his head at me.

“Never going to let me live that down, are you,” I said, rolling my eyes and shifting the extra weight of the armor on my flanks. After a little bit of training, they’d given me the full load of rounds for the machine guns in addition to the BR12A I’d picked up at the Fort. Through the clever use of some spells, I was carrying over a thousand rounds in all for the six machine guns in the armor despite having the space to carry only a tenth as much. The Equestrians really knew how to fuse magic and tech together, I’ll give them that. And given how valuable a thousand cartridges apparently were, I felt like I might as well have been carrying gold bars on me.

Moving through the forest with the extra weight on my back was a little more difficult and a lot more exhausting than I thought it would be. It didn’t help that we had to go uphill, and so we had to stop for breaks every so often. Those quick rests gave me a chance to appreciate the beautiful wildlife of Auris I’d hardly known from the top of the mountain—a wildlife Sig had known all his life.

“Pterofyn,” Sig said without warning during one of our breaks.

I capped my canteen and raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“You hear it?” he asked, pointing up toward the feathery leaves of the trees above us. “It has a very distinctive call.”

My ears twitched atop my head as I angled it to the side, sitting still and hardly breathing as I listened. Apart from the occasional gust of wind blowing through the trees, I didn’t hear anything. But after a second, I picked up on a very faint song in the forest.

Twaw-EEEEP Twaw-EEEEP Twaw-EHEHEHEHEH!

“That it?” I asked when there was a break in its song, and Sigur nodded.

“Yeah. They’re little birds, only about…” He held up his hands and spread his claws out, just barely touching them together. “Very colorful, too. A very vibrant purple with two stripes of orange on their shoulders. The flight feathers on their rear wings are also orange. They’re pretty to look at, and they love to sing.”

I tried to imagine the little bird. It was pretty cute, in my head at least. “Maybe they could teach their big brothers a thing or two about playing nice.” I felt for the hole in the middle of my mane where the shrike had ripped out a chunk of it days ago. Dumb thing didn’t fit under my helmet, and I’d told Zip that I’d sooner shoot myself than shave it off, even if it was against regulations. A girl’s gotta have a little pride in her looks, right?

Sigur just smirked and shook his head. “Shrikes are hunters by nature. They’re powerful and elegant birds, they just have the unfortunate tendency to think anything smaller than them is food.”

“You would think a shrike is ‘elegant,’” I said, shaking my head. “You try to make out with one? You griffons have so much in common with them.”

Shrikes try to kill our young,” Sig said, shrugging. “Like I said, anything smaller than them is a meal in their eyes. They’re intelligent, though, so they learned to stay away from the quarry.” After a moment’s pause, he crossed his arms at me and added, “And no, we don’t ‘make out’. We don’t have lips, remember? A little hard to do that without them.”

“Sucks,” I said. “What do you do instead?”

“Preen each other. It’s a sign of affection and intimacy. Even pegasi look at it that way. Like Zip.” He stood up with a grunt and rolled his shoulders. “Well, time to get moving again,” he said, and he set off toward the mountain, leaving me to scramble after him.

“W-Wait! What do you mean?” I exclaimed, managing to gallop to his side. “Even pegasi, too?”

“Didn’t you have a pegasus friend?” Sig ask, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, but she wasn’t my marefriend! I didn’t know that preening was a thing lovers did!” I stopped in my tracks and angled my head. That means Gauge must’ve preened Nova before. I needed to talk to him more about loving a pegasus. That seemed like it’d be a really handy thing to learn more about.

I realized Sig had walked off ahead of me, and I galloped back up to him again. “So, like, Zip likes that? You think she’d like it if I did it for her?”

“Oh, certainly,” Sig said, pushing a branch out of our way and letting it snap back once we’d passed. “Like I said, it’s an intimate thing for griffons and pegasi. We’d only let somebody really close to us preen our wings. Just make sure you get her permission first before you do it.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I said, thinking it over while I trotted alongside him. A pegasus’ wings were incredibly important to them. I learned that from knowing Nova all these years. I guess it would be like me and my horn, or earth ponies and their… hooves? They do like to kick things… But I certainly would be startled if somepony just grabbed my horn without my permission. Especially if they put it in their mouth. Hornjobs are nice and all, but not something you want to be surprised with.

One question naturally led to the next. “How do I preen a pegasus’ wings?”

Sigur pressed his hand against his face and chuckled. “You’re full of questions today, aren’t you?”

“Shut up, I want to get laid again,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him. Then, cantering up to him, I leaned against his shoulder. “So? How about it? You’re like…” I looked him up and down, quickly doing the math in my head. “…three-sevenths bird or something like that? Surely you can give me a few tips of the trade, right?”

“I have a little experience here or there,” Sig said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. When I frowned at him, he just flexed a wing and showed me the long, straight feathers hanging out from the meat of it. “Work on flight feathers first. They’re easiest, and you can put the thick shaft between your teeth to guide it along. Just don’t use your tongue, you’ll just make a mess.”

I struggled to hold back a laugh. “L-Lewd,” I managed without breaking down laughing.

Sigur just rolled his eyes. “Fine, no more advice for you.”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” I said, holding up a hoof and momentarily hobbling on the other three. “Feathers, teeth, no tongue… what else? Whenever I watch a pegasus preen, it just looks like they’re chewing on their feathers.”

“It’s…” Sig momentarily faltered for words. “How to word this…” He took a few moments to gather his thoughts. “Preening is just finding feathers that are out of alignment and putting them back in place. We make sure that the barbs on the feather are all hooked together using our teeth or beak, and we give the smaller feathers little tugs back into alignment, or just pull them out altogether if they’re too badly askew.” At my blank look, he just shrugged. “I’m sure Zip can walk you through it if you offer.”

We left it at that for the time being. I doubted I was going to get anything more useful out of badgering Sig.

The day beat on, and after a few hours of hiking, I was really starting to feel the heat and humidity. The energetic blue sun made my armor scalding hot to the touch, and the gray jumpsuit I had to wear along with it was the only insulation I had between it and my hide. I was sweating buckets, and I went through my canteen far faster than I thought I would. Even Sig seemed to struggle with the heat, because I noticed him walking with his wings slightly extended and his beak open, panting. Whenever a cloud managed to drift in front of the sun and give us momentary relief, we would both let out pitiful cheers and quickly recover in the shade before it passed again.

We came to an outcropping of rock that not even the hardy Auris trees could grow on, and we immediately sought shelter in the shade of an overhang. The metal pad that we’d teleported to was a few miles away and a few hundred feet below us, hardly visible in the sea of feathery orange leaves. Beyond that, I could see the river, and then the far wall of the valley to the south. But here I could see something I hadn’t noticed before: at the eastern end of the valley, a massive monolith of steel and concrete stretched from one side to the other, spewing water through four spillways that pooled beneath it before forming the river that then meandered through the rest of the valley. I could see tiny specks of towers on the walls at the top, and an enormous symbol made of green patina in the smooth wall facing us. It looked like a winged horseshoe with a unicorn horn protruding through the U-like space in the middle. Framing it in the four cardinal directions were depictions of a sun, a heart, a moon, and a star, if you worked your way around it in a clockwise direction from the top.

I looked at Sig and pointed in the direction of it. “Is that the dam?”

Sig slowly nodded. “Yeah. Celestia Dam, I think it’s called in our database. It used to provide power to the entirety of the valley, or at least, that’s what it was designed to do once Auris was settled more. It’s been the Crimson’s base of operations since before they unified the other bandit factions under their banner.”

I rubbed my eyes and squinted at the distant structure, but it was too far away for me to make anything out in detail, other than the symbol worked into the concrete face. “And we’re going to be taking that?”

“If all goes well, then yes.” Grunting, Sig took off his helmet and began fooling with his head crest. “I spent my whole life with that thing there, looming in the distance. We all knew at the quarry that bandits and slavers lived there. We just hoped that they’d never come our way.”

“It couldn’t have been easy to sleep at night knowing that,” I said.

The griffon just shrugged. “We had sentries around the quarry. Nobody can sneak past a griffon, so we didn’t have anything to worry about.”

“What about the symbols?” I asked. “Hearts don’t seem to be Carrion’s style. Unless, you know, they’re burned onto the flanks of mares.”

“It was the emblem of Equestria back in the day,” Sig said. “The horseshoe represents the three main races. You know, pegasus, unicorn, earth pony.”

“And the things around it?”

“There were supposedly four gods who ruled Equestria once upon a time. Whether they were real or just part of the Equestrian mythos, I have no idea.” Then, standing up, he pointed up the rocky face, to where another line of trees awaited us. “But enough of that. We should get going.”

I nodded and followed him up the slope some more. We made good progress, taking a quick break at a stream and topping off our canteens before pressing onwards again. Only when the little heads-up display my helmet was projecting over my left eye said the time was 1132 did Sig suddenly stop and hold out his hand.

Now on guard, I toggled the safety on the machine guns with a thought and was rewarded with a red exclamation mark popping up in the corner of my vision, letting me know that the guns were ready to fire if I willed it. I also unslung my rifle and held it in front of me as I cautiously sidestepped to Sig. “What is it?” I whispered, my eyes scanning the trees and rocks around us. Though I couldn’t see anything, I figured Sig’s sharp eyesight and keen hearing were more reliable than my own.

Sig responded by gesturing for me to stay put, and he slowly padded out across the grass. After a few seconds of scanning the treeline, he raised his head and made a series of low calls and chirps. Tense silence reigned for a few moments, and I could feel my heart begin to pound as I searched in vain for what was spooking him. Then I heard another bunch of calls and chirps, and in front of me, Sig visibly relaxed.

Turning to me, he held out his hand and pointed to the ground. “Place the rifle on the ground and turn your safeties back on.” When I hesitated, he just pointed again, and I reluctantly parted with the battle rifle.

That was when two more griffons inexplicably dropped out of the trees on either side of us.

I jumped and fell on my flank, but Sigur didn’t even flinch. The other griffons didn’t wear any armor, but they’d affixed branches and boughs of leaves to a course netting they draped over their bodies as camouflage. Each one carried a makeshift high powered rifle that I knew at a glance could punch right through the shields of my armor. Underneath their camo, each griffon had a muscular brown body like Sigur’s, though their heads differed in the coloration and patterning of their feathers: one had ashy gray feathers that swooped out over his brow, and the other had drooping white feathers like a more exaggerated version of Sig’s own headcrest.

“Well, look who came back?” the griffon with the white feathers purred. Strolling up to Sigur, he slung his rifle over his back and jabbed at the Sentinel’s armor. “We could hear you from a mile away in that noisy can of yours. If we wanted, we could’ve put a bullet right through your heart, and I don’t think your fancy shields could’ve stopped it.”

“If I didn’t want you to know I was coming, you wouldn’t have heard me,” Sig said, stepping closer to the white-feathered griffon and lowering his head. I bit my lip and sized up the other griffon standing off to the side, his rifle pointed in my vague direction. If shit went down, I could probably light him up with the machine guns in my armor before grabbing my rifle and drilling the other one in the head. Supposing the one watching me didn’t just carve a new hole in my chest with his rifle. I toggled the safety off on my guns again, just in case.

And then, all of a sudden, both Sig and the white-feathered griffon laughed and clapped their hands together before pulling together in a quick embrace. Even the griffon watching me lowered his gun and smiled. “It’s been too long, you dumb bastard,” the white griffon said, patting Sig on the shoulder with one hand and slinging his rifle over his back with the other. “I’m amazed to see your rotten ass is still alive.”

“And I figured the quarry would’ve collapsed without me to watch over yours and Gatre’s mangy hides, Jahlen,” Sig responded, shooting the ashen griffon in the back a quick grin.

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” the white griffon, who I guess was Jahlen, said with a chuckle. “Once we got rid of the dead weight, we’ve been better than ever!”

“Yeah, yeah. Hope the old guy hasn’t missed me too much,” Sig said. “I was the best shot out of all of you. I’m surprised you aren’t skin and bones without me to hunt for you.”

“He has his moments,” the other griffon, Gatre, said. “Dacie’s getting pretty competent with the bow, though. She creeps up on two-tailers like she’s the wind and hits them in the face. The old guy’s pretty happy that she doesn’t have to use bullets on them.”

“That’s good. I’ll have to find her when I get back,” Sigur said. “She always was one of the more fun ones.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you,” Jahlen said. “She was pissed for a whole month when you left.”

They chuckled a bit, and then Gatre’s green eyes bored into me. He waved to the other two and nodded in my direction. “Who’s this, Sig? Marefriend? I didn’t know you were into ponies.”

Jahlen snickered, and Sig just shook his head. “Apprentice of mine, I guess you could call her.” He motioned to me and stepped forward. “Why don’t you get off your flank and say hey to my brothers, Ember?”

I picked up my rifle and reset all the safeties before trotting over. “Hey,” I said, trying to act natural, despite still being a little leery about having a gun pointed at me just moments ago. “Ember.”

“Gatre,” the black griffon said, taking my outstretched hoof and shaking it.

“Jahlen,” the white one said, nodding from Sigur’s side. Then, smirking at Sig, he nudged him in the ribs. “She is pretty cute for a pony. Too bad she’s not a pegasus. At least they have wings.”

“You want me to turn you into a pony?” I bluffed, frowning at Jahlen. “I’m standing right here, you know.”

Sigur chuckled and decided to play along. “Don’t mess with unicorns, J. Especially ones with short tempers.”

Jahlen just held up his hands in mock surrender and backed off a step. “Hey, I’m just having a little fun. No need to get all upset.”

“I’m taken, thank you,” I growled at him, lowering my horn for half a second. A look from Sig, however, made me take a breath and chill out. “So, where’s this quarry? We’ve got important Sentinel business to do.”

“Important Sentinel business?” Gatre said, scratching his beak. His eyes narrowed at Sig, and his head crest shifted along with his frown. “What’re you up to, Sig?”

“Talk for the old guy’s earholes,” Sig said, shrugging.

Jahlen likewise frowned. “We heard about what you guys did at that fort or whatever. You’re just kicking a prickwings’ nest; you know that, right?”

“And if you’re pissing off the Crimson, we don’t want anything to do with it,” Gatre said, leaning back against a tree and crossing his arms. “We should just make you go now if you’re dragging us into this mess.”

Sigur shut his eyes and took a deep breath; it was pretty clear he was using every bit of effort to keep himself calm. “I won’t leave until I speak to the old guy. Whether you like it or not, I’m here on business. Not for a family reunion.”

The other two griffons exchanged looks before glaring at Sig. “Fine. But only because you’re our brother.”

Jahlen unslung his rifle and spread his wings, taking to the air. “Bring them back, I’ll cover for you in the meanwhile.”

Gatre nodded and waved at us. “Well, come on. The sooner we get you to leave, the sooner we don’t have to worry about pissing off the Crimson.”

He began to march off to the north, and Jahlen disappeared into the orange leaves with a flash of feathers. I just looked at Sigur, and he gave me an apologetic shrug before wordlessly setting off after Gatre. Sighing, I fell in behind the two griffons, frowning at the ground. Things were already off to a great start.

Another hour of hiking brought us to the quarry. By now, it was almost thirteen o’clock, and the sun glared at us from overhead. I was hot, sweaty, thirsty, and now hungry. Hopefully I could take care of a few of those things at the quarry.

Which was massive. I didn’t know what I was looking at at first when we finally came to a stone summit. I thought I was looking at a small ravine of sorts, but after rubbing my eyes a few times, I realized that there were artificial layers of platforms ringing around the central pit all the way to the bottom. Numerous caves and hollows had been dug out of the limestone; many of these had colorful curtains that were either drawn or held open with makeshift fasteners. A series of construction lights were placed at regular intervals along the walls and platforms, connected by snaking wires to a huge fusion generator nestled in one of the uppermost caves. The rusted carcasses of old mining equipment and machinery were scattered around the perimeter of the pit, many salvaged for parts and fusion batteries long ago.

And the griffons. There were hundreds of them, at least. They certainly numbered much more than Blackwash, and even probably more than everypony at the Bastion. Adults flew directly across the enormous hole in the ground from one platform to another, usually in small groups and happily chatting with each other. Fledglings played on the lower levels where any falls wouldn’t be as severe with their unsure wings. Old hens and tercels with ragged feathers and gnarled talons sat in the shade of the larger hollows, watching the goings-on of the day with a passive interest. The squawking and chirping and just bird noises echoing in the deep pit gave the whole place an amazing sense of life.

Sig stopped by the edge of the quarry, resting his talons over the precipice. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, letting it all loose at once in a contented sigh. “How I’ve missed this place.”

“Ain’t nothing like home,” I said, standing next to him and just taking it all in.

“You never should’ve left in the first place,” Gatre grumbled. He shot Sig a betrayed look and clawed at the ground. “Your family was—is here. Not in some stupid secret base full of righteous idiots like you who think they can actually change things.”

“It was as hard on me as it was for you,” Sigur said.

Gatre spat on the ground. “Ponyshit.”

I spared a moment to glare at him.

Sig either ignored my indignant look or just didn’t see it altogether; he was a fair bit taller than me. “I joined the Sentinels as much for my family as I did for the people of the valley.”

“Oh really? And how’s that?”

Sig just narrowed his eyes at his brother. “Because sooner or later, Carrion’s not going to tolerate a bunch of hybrid freaks living at the doorstep of his new world order.” Frowning, he kicked a pebble off the edge and watched it clatter down the rocky slope. “Whether or not the rest of you pull your heads out of your collective assholes long enough to see that is another story entirely.”

Gatre frowned and spread his wings, hitting Sigur in the head as he did so. I wasn’t so sure it was unintentional. “Whatever. You want to talk to the old guy? Let’s talk to the old guy.” And he began to glide to one of the hollows on the other side.

Sig just shook his head and likewise spread his wings. “One day you’ll see,” he muttered to himself, launching after Gatre and lowering into the quarry with wide circles.

I just blinked and stomped my hoof. “Hey, you fuckers! I can’t fly!” When they didn’t come back for me, I ground my teeth in frustration and stomped off for the nearest ramp down into the quarry. “Fucking bird brains, the lot of them.”

I got more than a few curious looks as I began the long trot around the perimeter of the pit to get to where I saw Sig and Gatre land. The griffons largely kept to themselves, stopping what they were doing only long enough to watch me as I passed. I heard the sounds of grinding beaks and clacking talons as I walked past one of the large hollows that the elders gathered in; none of them looked too thrilled to see me. Like Gatre, I think they knew that Sentinel involvement was just asking for trouble, especially with the Crimson so close by.

The hollow that Sig and Gatre had flown to was the biggest, at least as far as I could tell, so obviously it must’ve been the most important. The hollowed space was tall enough to allow griffons to fly over anyone on the floor, and they’d even decorated it with simple paintings and some furniture. There were a few more elders here, but most of the griffons appeared to be middle-aged (what is middle age for a griffon? Don’t they live like a hundred winters?). They also wore formal dress, or as formal as you could expect for not having access to dry cleaning and a tailor for more than two hundred winters. It certainly stood in pretty stark contrast to the naked griffons (of which there were many) or the camo that Jahlen and Gatre wore.

I quickly spotted Sig and Gatre. They were a ways in the back of the hollow, standing near a drawn curtain that I guess covered somewhere deeper into the rock behind it. Across from them was an aging griffon, with tawny feathers and a spotted hide, a frayed head crest, and crooked gray talons. He also wore an old patchwork suit jacket, though it looked like all the buttons had popped off long ago. In a glance, I figured that he must’ve been the ‘old guy’ they mentioned.

And he didn’t look pleased. I must’ve missed the pleasantries in the time it took me to walk down here if Sig’s rapidly fading smile was anything to go by. Like Gatre, like Jahlen, like all the other griffons in this hole in the ground, the old guy didn’t seem thrilled to have Sentinels on his doorstep. The moment I entered the hollow, his eyes shifted to me, and I stopped dead in my tracks. Something about those blood red eyes, even with one clouded with cataracts, wouldn’t let me move.

My mouth went dry as I fumbled for words. Eventually, I managed a lame “I’m with him” and a vague point in Sigur’s general direction. When the griffon blinked, I felt whatever grip he had on me release, and I scurried to Sig’s side for safety. Which was kind of dumb, considering I had more guns on my person than the griffons had in the whole hollow. But they had talons and beaks, and I was more terrified of being ripped apart than I was of being shot. At least one way would’ve been quick.

It didn’t help that Sig and the old griffon just stared at each other. The tension hung so thick in the air that it was hard to breathe. When it became clear that the old griffon wasn’t interested in speaking first, Sig held a talon to his beak and coughed. “So…”

“No,” the old griffon said, his gravely voice heavy with anger. “Leaving to join them was a foolish mistake. One I hoped was just a passing sentiment of youth. I’d hoped that when you returned to us, assuming that you even survived that far from the quarry, it would be to return to our flock. Not ask it to join you in ruin.”

Sigur inhaled sharply. “Elder Kerzin, I know you’re not blind to the happenings in the valley. If Gatre and Jahlen already know about what the Sentinels did to the Crimson’s fort, then I know that you’re aware, too. Surely you have to understand that there will never be an opportunity like the present to end them once and for all.”

“What I understand,” Kerzin barked, his gnarled talons flexing against the stone, “is that you’ve made the Crimson angry… and now you want to throw your brothers and sisters headlong into the fray where they’ll be slaughtered in your stead?” He snorted and scowled at us. “Are you truly so far gone that you’re willing to sacrifice your family for somebody else’s problems?”

I could tell that Sigur was trying very hard to keep his tone in check. “Elder, you have to understand—”

“I understand completely,” Kerzin said, cutting him off with a wave of his hand. “The Crimson have never bothered us, because they know that we’re more trouble than it’s worth. They would lose two ponies for every one of us. But if we throw our weight behind their enemies, suddenly killing us is worth that price.” He shook his head. “Think with your brain, Sigur. Not with your heart. Our safety is all that matters. The rest of the valley can become Carrion’s personal plaything for all I care.”

He tapped his talons against the ground like he was satisfied with his answer. But while Sig tried to form some kind of calm response, I decided I’d heard enough of this ‘it’s not my problem’ shit from people this week. Stomping my hoof on the ground, I leered at Kerzin and all but spat my words out. “Really? Really? Are you that much of a short-sighted retarded shithead that you don’t understand what’s happening out there?!” I pointed behind us in the general direction of the valley. “Carrion has taken everything. Everything! The whole damn valley is his, from that fucking dam you can all see every day to little shitholes a hundred miles from here! Two weeks ago, I didn’t even know that there were other ponies living in the valley, right under my nose. But that didn’t stop the Crimson from slaughtering my mother and enslaving my friends when they found us! And sooner or later, it’s going to happen to you, too. Because Carrion’s running out of places to enslave, and now he’s got some ponies in a faraway place personally interested in his little operation. So yes, he’s willing to pay the price in blood and lead to put your sorry hides under his hoof too.” Snarling, I withdrew a step and tried to stare down the Elder. “And he doesn’t give a single fuck about how many lives it’s going to take to crush you. He has ringbirds that will swat you out of the sky no problem. What are you gonna do against that? He will crush you. And when he does, the rest of us will be too busy being fucking dead from fighting him to help.”

I felt the red haze slowly pull back from my vision and realized I was panting. I also realized that Sig looked horrified. I also realized that instead of threatening Kerzin with logic, it only looked like I’d pissed him off. In hindsight, I probably should have avoided calling him a ‘retarded shithead’, even if it was true.

Kerzin’s not-cloudy eye narrowed at me. “Leave,” he growled, his voice a quiet whisper of pure rage. “Leave before you kill us all.”

Sigur stepped forward and held up a talon. “Elder, please—!”

“No!” Kerzin snapped, his head whipping from me to Sig. “We let you back because you were family. Now I’m not so sure I was right to do so.” He pointed to me and hissed through his crooked beak, “Them or us. It’s as simple as that.”

Sig froze with his beak hanging open. After a moment, he clapped his hands together and practically begged Kerzin to reconsider. “Elder, please think about this. Her words might not be respectful, but—!”

“What part did I not make clear?” Kerzin hissed. His claws clicked across the floor as he limped over to Sig until he was beak to beak with the Sentinel. “Your friends are not welcome here. They never will be. And we will not be joining them.” Pulling back, the Elder let out a forced breath and pointed toward Gatre, who’d been standing to the side with a pensive look on his face. “Do not make me have to have your own brother remove you from my sight.”

Closing his eyes, Sig curtly nodded once. “We cannot return until sunrise tomorrow. That’s when the mages will teleport to the forest to bring us back home.”

Kerzin scratched at his beak. It looked like he was eyeing Sigur up, and I debated whether I should toggle the safeties on my machine guns. Finally, scowling, he waved a talon and turned away. “Fine. You may stay until then. I suggest you use the time to get a few last words in with your siblings. The stones know that you’ll never see them again.”

Sigur’s head crest drooped, but he covered it with a stiff nod. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Then, turning to me, he just gave me a sharp glare before marching to the mouth of the hollow. Spreading his wings, he took off into the air, climbing toward the edge of the quarry, leaving me alone in the chamber.

Swallowing hard, I gave Gatre a nervous look before I scampered out after Sig. The griffons didn’t want anything to do with the Sentinels because they were afraid of upsetting the Crimson. Any chance of persuading them otherwise went up in flames the moment I opened my fat mouth. Even worse, I might’ve gotten Sig exiled from the quarry for the rest of his life.

What had I done?