"I've never even met a kobold," Sonder repeated, hoping the captain would hear her this time. "Not once in my entire life."
The captain's slit pupils narrowed. "Strange tools. Soft voices. False manners. Watching from rocks. Always running when cornered." His claws tapped once on the table. "But this time, you will not run."
The two guards behind her shifted forward, spears lowering until the tips were near the back of her neck.
Sonder drew a breath. She didn't want this, especially not violence.
But letting herself be stabbed because someone refused to listen was not an option.
She raised her bound wrists.
Heat gathered beneath her skin. The rope binding her hands began to smoke.
Both guards hissed. One lunged.
Sonder waved her hand towards him.
A slab of ice snapped into existence around his spear and his hand. Frozen solid in an instant.
The guard shrieked, struggling uselessly against the cold that held him in place.
The captain shot to his feet, claws biting into the table's wood.
"What is this?" He roared. "What trick-"
"It's not a trick," Sonder said, turning toward the other guard just as he tried to strike.
She released a pulse of force.
It sent him flinging backward through the tent wall. Canvas ripped, poles snapped, shouts rose outside.
Any chance for a peaceful understanding was already gone.
Sonder reached down and picked up her satchel, staff, and sword. Remnants of rope fell from her wrists.
"I'm a mage," she said simply. "Not a spy. Not Shemmi. Not your enemy. I was only passing through."
Silence followed. Only the torn tent cloth flapped in the breeze.
The captain stared at her, not with fear, but with a renewed, measured awareness.
Hard eyes. Calculating. But not entirely hostile anymore.
"No Shemmi has magic," he said at last. "Just as none among us do anymore. Tricks, yes. But not this." His nostrils flared. "Your power speaks truth."
Sonder tightened her grip on her staff with one hand and her sword with the other.
The captain lifted a clawed hand. The reptile men who rushed in stopped their advance.
"I will not harm you, warm-blood," he said. "Nor allow any of my soldiers to do so. If you wish to go, you may. So long as you do not stand against us."
That stopped her.
"That's it?" she asked.
"Would you prefer more? I know even among your kind, mages are few. And you…" His gaze flicked to the ice, then the torn wall. "You are no dabbler. Provoking you would be foolish."
She didn't know how to respond.
He continued, thoughtful. "It seems your path leads toward the Shemmi walls. Inside their city. What else would draw you here?" His tail swept the ground. "If you truly have no allegiance, then you walk a dangerous road."
"What if I chose to ally with them?" Sonder asked before she could stop herself. The question came out bare and sharp.
A slow, humorless hiss escaped him. "Then you would choose liars and cowards. But even then, you would not be our enemy. Not truly. If you were only a traveler, I could strike you down where you stand. But a mage with command of fire and ice and force?" His eyes slid briefly toward the ruined canvas. "Not even I could stop you."
He folded his hands behind his back.
"If the Shemmi let you in, whether by invitation or by force, learn who they are. Hear their stories. Taste their lies. Then decide for yourself whether you still wish to help them."
He stepped aside, clearing the way to the tent's opening. "Once your eyes are open, you may find the Chackara are not the enemies here."