"We're going north," Su announced to Fernando, who was still recovering.

  "North," Fernando repeated, his mental voice flat. "To the Sky-Dancers and your plan is..."

  "Tell them the truth. Watch them have a collective existential crisis. Maybe get Resplendent Feather to fix my curse since it's his fault anyway. Possibly start a civil war. We'll see how the mood strikes."

  Fernando's fronds trembled. "You're going to walk up to a clan of proud, ancient magical peacocks and tell them their entire existence is a lie."

  "I prefer 'deliver overdue historical corrections.'" Su adjusted the spectacles perched on her beak. "Besides, I've got proof now. The Forgotten Architect confirmed everything. Three hundred years of systematic oppression and memory erasure. They deserve to know."

  "They're going to kill you."

  "They can try. I've got a 26% survival rate now. That's practically invincible." Su started gathering supplies—stolen bread, a waterskin she'd "borrowed" from a merchant, and Fernando's pot. "Plus, I died twice already. Third time's the charm, right?"

  "That's not how mortality works."

  "It is when you're cursed." Su headed for the greenhouse exit. "Now come on. We've got a mountain to climb and some peacocks to traumatize with the truth."

  "I want it on record," Fernando said as she picked up his pot, "that this is your worst idea yet. And you once tried to poison a well that was already poisoned."

  "Noted."

  The journey north took five days of walking, hiding, and occasionally stealing rides on wagons when Su could convince drivers she was a "good luck charm" (her Bureaucratic Bluster was getting alarmingly effective). Fernando provided running commentary on every poor decision, which Su had learned to tune out like elevator music.

  The terrain shifted as they traveled. The city's cobblestones gave way to packed dirt roads, then to forest paths, then to nothing but wilderness. The air grew colder, thinner. Mountains loomed on the horizon like judgmental relatives at a family reunion.

  The final approach to the Aerie was less a path and more a philosophical argument with gravity about who was really in charge.

  Su's claws scraped against ice-slicked crystal, her lungs burning in the thin mountain air. Fernando's pot was strapped to her back with stolen twine (taken from a very confused shepherd three valleys ago), and the fern himself had gone ominously quiet, either meditating or dead from altitude sickness.

  "Almost there," Su gasped, though "there" was still a shimmering cluster of impossible spires at least another hour's climb away. "Just... need to... not die..."

  "That's been your motto for three lifetimes," Fernando's weak mental voice drifted back. "It's not as reassuring as you think."

  "Shut up and photosynthesize."

  The path—if it could be called that—wound between crystalline formations that hummed with trapped starlight. Everything here felt wrong in a way that made Su's curse-mark tingle. This was a place that had been shaped by powerful magic over centuries. And again, she found this place amazing. No matter how many time she saw it.

  Blocking the path ahead were three peacocks.

  But not like any she'd seen in the villages or forests. These were proper Sky-Dancers. Their plumage didn't just shimmer—it moved with inner light, patterns flowing like liquid constellations. One had feathers the color of a nebula, another wore aurora borealis across their train, and the third seemed to be made of compressed starlight that hurt to look at directly.

  All three had their trains half-fanned in a display that Su's bird-brain instinctively recognized as aggressive territorial posturing.

  The nebula-patterned one stepped forward, his psychic voice resonating with harmonics that made Su's feathers vibrate.

  "Halt."

  Su actually stumbled backward from the force of it.

  "The Aerie is forbidden to outsiders. Turn back, drab one, before we are forced to remove you."

  Finally, someone she could actually talk to, again. Even if they were already threatening her.

  Su caught her breath and projected back: "I need to speak with someone in your clan. It's important."

  "No." The nebula-guard's voice was flat, final. "Outsiders do not enter the Aerie. This is law. Turn back."

  "You don't understand, I need to—"

  "We understand perfectly," the aurora-patterned guard cut in, his tone dripping with disdain. "A speckless vagrant has climbed our mountain seeking... what? Charity? Pity? Whatever scraps the 'mighty Sky-Dancers' might throw to lesser creatures?"

  The third guard, the starlight one, let out a psychic sound that might have been laughter. "Look at it. Can't even manifest a proper train. Probably born defective. The breeding pools must be weakening in the lowlands."

  Su's eye twitched. The casual cruelty in their voices—the automatic assumption that she was less than because she looked different—ignited something hot and familiar in her chest.

  "I'm not here for charity," she said, keeping her voice level through sheer force of will. "I'm here to speak to Resplendent Feather. He cursed me. I need to—"

  All three guards burst into actual psychic laughter. It echoed off the crystal formations like breaking glass.

  "Resplendent Feather? CURSED you?" The nebula-guard was practically choking. "You think one of our finest would waste his power on... on THIS?" He gestured at Su with obvious disgust.

  "The delusion!" the aurora-guard cackled. "Next you'll claim the Eldest blessed you personally!"

  "Or that you danced with stars!"

  They were laughing so hard their trains were shaking.

  Su's claws dug into the crystal path. "I'm not lying. He cursed me. At a zoo. In another—" She stopped. How could she even explain the zoo? Earth? The fact that she'd been human?

  "A zoo?" The starlight guard tilted his head mockingly. "What's a 'zoo'? Is that some lowland word for 'sad delusion'?"

  "It's a place where—" Su started, then realized she was making it worse. "Look, just... just let me talk to him. Five minutes. That's all I'm asking."

  "The answer is no," the nebula-guard said, his amusement fading back into cold authority. "Resplendent Feather is in meditation following his recent return. He sees no one. And even if he did, he certainly wouldn't waste time on a creature like you."

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  "'Recent return'?" Su's mind caught on that. "Return from where?"

  "None of your concern." The guard stepped forward, his train fully fanning now in obvious threat display. "You have been warned twice. There will not be a third. Leave. Now."

  "Or what?" The words were out before Su could stop them. Three lifetimes of refusing to back down when threatened, and she still couldn't help herself.

  The temperature dropped ten degrees. All three guards' plumage flared with dangerous light.

  "Or we will remove you," the nebula-guard said quietly. "Painfully."

  Fernando's mental voice was panicked: "Su. Su, we should go. We should definitely go. This is the 'back away slowly' moment."

  But Su was staring at the guards, at their casual cruelty, their automatic dismissal, their absolute certainty that she was beneath them.

  And something in her snapped. "You know what?" Su said, her voice deadly calm. "Fuck this. Fuck your rules. Fuck your 'no outsiders' policy. And fuck the idea that I need your permission."

  She activated Shadow Step. The world blurred. She reappeared ten feet past the guards, already running up the path toward the Aerie proper.

  "INTRUDER!" The nebula-guard's psychic roar shook the mountain. "SOUND THE ALARM!"

  "THIS IS A TERRIBLE PLAN!" Fernando screamed as Su sprinted, her claws skidding on ice, her wings flapping for extra speed.

  "IT'S THE ONLY PLAN I'VE GOT!"

  Behind her, she could hear the guards giving chase, their powerful wings carrying them faster than her ground-bound scramble. Alarm calls—psychic shrieks that felt like ice picks through her skull—were echoing through the Aerie.

  More Sky-Dancers were appearing from alcoves and crystal buildings. Beautiful, deadly, and ALL of them turning to face the drab intruder racing through their streets.

  "Stop that creature!"

  "An outsider! In the Aerie!"

  "How did it get past the wards?!"

  Su didn't stop. She used Shadow Step again, blipping forward in desperate bursts, trying to stay ahead of the growing crowd of pursuers. Her void-energy was burning through her reserves fast, her damaged wing screaming in protest, but she couldn't stop now.

  She needed to find someone in authority. Someone who could actually force Resplendent Feather to talk to her.

  A blast of concentrated starlight exploded the crystal path in front of her. Su skidded to a halt, nearly tumbling off the edge of a sheer drop.

  She spun around. The guards had caught up. And they'd brought friends. At least twenty Sky-Dancers now surrounded her, their collective presence a crushing psychic weight.

  And in the center, an elderly peacock with storm-colored plumage crackling with barely-contained lightning stepped forward.

  His eyes were ancient but deeply, profoundly annoyed.

  "Well," he said, his voice like distant thunder. "This is certainly... dramatic."

  The guards immediately bowed. "Elder Storm-Plume! Forgive us, the creature evaded—"

  "I can see what happened." Storm-Plume's gaze never left Su. "The question is why. Outsiders do not brave the Path of Regrets lightly. And they certainly don't fight past guards when denied entry."

  He took a step closer, his head tilting in a way that reminded Su uncomfortably of a predator studying prey.

  "So. Speckless one. You have thirty seconds to explain why I shouldn't have you thrown from this mountain. Use them wisely."

  Su was panting, her energy depleted, surrounded by hostile Sky-Dancers on all sides. Fernando was somehow still alive on her back, though he was making a continuous whimpering sound.

  Thirty seconds. This was it. Her one shot.

  She met Storm-Plume's ancient gaze and projected with every ounce of conviction she had:

  "My name is Su Ian Hoo. I was human. Resplendent Feather cursed me—turned me into this. And I've learned something about your clan. Something you need to hear. Something about who you really are."

  Storm-Plume's lightning flickered. "Continue."

  "Not here. Not like this." Su gestured at the hostile crowd. "What I have to say... it's going to sound insane. But it's true. And it concerns your entire civilization. I need to speak to your Council. To Resplendent Feather. To anyone who has the authority to verify what I'm about to tell you."

  "And what," Storm-Plume said slowly, "could a speckless vagrant possibly know about the Sky-Dancers that we do not?"

  Su looked at him. At the centuries of pride and certainty in those ancient eyes. At the beautiful, cursed creatures surrounding her who had no idea what they'd forgotten.

  "Everything," she said quietly. "I know everything you've lost. And I can prove it."

  The silence that followed was broken only by the wind howling through crystal spires. Then Storm-Plume did something unexpected. He laughed. A sharp sound without humor.

  "Prove it," he said. "Right here. Right now. Convince me that you are anything more than a desperate creature seeking shelter from the cold. Or I will personally ensure you never trouble us again."

  The crowd pressed closer, eager to see the intruder humiliated, exposed as a fraud, thrown from their perfect mountain.

  Su looked at the Elder. At the guards. At the impossible situation she'd created for herself.

  And realized she had exactly one card left to play.

  "Alright," she said. "Answer me this: How far back does your history go?"

  Storm-Plume's expression didn't change. "To the Time of First Dawning. When the stars called us to dance among them. Every fledgling knows this."

  "How many years ago?"

  "The cycles are... it is ancient knowledge..."

  "How many YEARS?" Su pressed.

  Storm-Plume's feathers ruffled slightly. "Three hundred cycles of the great turning. Perhaps more. The early records are... fragmented..."

  "Fragmented. Right." Su took a breath. "Now answer this: What do you remember from BEFORE that time?"

  "Before...?" Storm-Plume's voice held the first hint of uncertainty. "There was no before. The First Dawning was our beginning. We emerged from—"

  "From what?"

  Silence.

  "You don't know," Su said softly. "You have three hundred years of history and before that... nothing. Don't you think that's strange? Don't you wonder where you came from? How you began?"

  "We are born of starlight," one of the guards insisted. "Children of the celestial dance. We—"

  "Are cursed," Su finished. "Three hundred years ago, you weren't birds. You were human. A magical bloodline that could dance with starlight. And someone cursed you. Transformed you. Erased your memories. Made you forget you were ever anything else."

  The psychic weight of absolute silence. Then Storm-Plume's voice, very quiet and dangerous: "That is an extraordinary claim."

  "I know."

  "Do you have proof? Any shred of evidence? Or just the ravings of a desperate creature who will say anything to gain entry to our home?"

  Su reached for the locket around her neck—Yvan's locket.

  "I know someone," she said. "Someone who's lived for three thousand years. A dragon. He remembers when the Sky-Dancers were human. He saw what happened to you."

  She channeled her will into the locket, calling across the distance:

  Yvan. Remember how you said my life was entertaining? Well, I'm about to either start a revolution or get murdered by sparkly birds. Character witness needed. Urgent.

  The locket pulsed warm against her breast. And far below, in his canyon, a dying dragon who'd been bored for centuries opened one ancient eye and began to laugh.

  Little Wrench, his voice echoed faintly in her mind, amused and weary. You certainly have a talent for complicated situations. Very well. But this will cost you. We'll discuss terms later.

  Su looked up at Storm-Plume.

  "He's coming," she said. "A dragon is coming to testify. To confirm everything I've said. And then you're going to have to decide: Do you want to know the truth? Or would you rather keep living in comfortable ignorance?"

  Storm-Plume stared at her for a long moment. Then he made a gesture, and the hostile crowd backed up slightly, giving her breathing room.

  "If you are lying," he said quietly, "if this is some elaborate deception, you will wish I had simply thrown you from the mountain."

  "I'm not lying," Su said.

  "We shall see." Storm-Plume turned to the guards. "Take her to the Hall of Echoes. Under guard. She is not to leave or speak to anyone until this... dragon... arrives to verify her claims."

  He looked back at Su, his ancient eyes unreadable. "And summon Resplendent Feather from his meditation. Tell him an old acquaintance has come to call."

  The Hall of Echoes was a very fancy waiting room with hostile guards. Crystal walls reflected Su's drab image back at her from a hundred angles, each one a reminder of how out of place she was.

  Fernando had finally stopped whimpering and was now just resigned to their fate. "So. A dragon. You're betting everything on a dragon showing up."

  "Yep."

  "A dragon who said there would be 'terms' and 'costs.'"

  "Yep."

  "And if he doesn't come?"

  "Then we're probably going to get thrown off a mountain."

  "Great. Wonderful. I'm so glad I'm experiencing this with you."

  Su paced the small chamber, her mind racing. Somewhere in this crystalline city, Resplendent Feather was being told that someone from his past had arrived. Someone he'd cursed.

  Did he even remember her? Remember the zoo? Or had he cursed so many people over the years that one angry janitor had blurred into the background? She needed to remind him again.

  The door to the chamber opened. And Resplendent Feather walked in.

  He was exactly as she remembered—magnificent plumage, cosmic patterns, the arrogant tilt of his head that suggested the universe existed for his personal aesthetic pleasure.

  He looked at her. His expression cycled through confusion, recognition, and then... horror.

  "You," he whispered. "The... the noisy ape from... but you're... how are you HERE?"

  Su met his gaze, every lifetime of anger and frustration compressed into a single, devastating moment.

  "Hi," she said flatly. "Remember me this time? You cursed me. Turned me into a peacock. Without checking my gender. And now we're both trapped in a magical clusterfuck that goes back three hundred years. So. We need to talk."

  Resplendent Feather looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

  And outside, somewhere in the sky, a dragon was coming to deliver testimony that would shatter everything the Sky-Dancers thought they knew about themselves.