[center][color=mediumseagreen][h1]CHERYL LUSBY[/h1][/color][color=lightgray][b]& PIPER[/b][/color][/center]

[color=mediumseagreen]Cheryl jerked back at the outburst, her eyes wide. A low growl sounded from Piper. Throughout his tirade, Cheryl tensed, ready to react if he attacked. It was only when his glass shattered did she flinch, shielding her face. When she lowered her hand, the mead was still standing. By itself.

'[i]What in the seventy pits of hell just happened?[/i]' She frowned. '[i]And why the hell does he keep mentioning beans? Weirdo.[/i]'

The stranger himself seemed confused, behind his fit of anger. When he finally spoke up, she scowled.

'[b]The flame? I should be the one asking you that! Don't try to pin this on me, meathead.[/b]' Flaming mage! Learning magic he couldn't control and trying to shift the blame on her? As if to enunciate her point, his...butt...made an odd sound, almost like a tune. Shaking her head, she moved back. She was having none of this meat.[/color]

[color=lightgray]As Cheryl got off her seat, Piper weaved around her head, moving to her other shoulder. His ears were flat against his head and he snarled at the stranger. He switched back to the signal he shared with his mistress.

'[i][b]Strange magic. Don't want to talk to him again[/b][/i],' he sent to Cheryl.[/color]

[color=mediumseagreen]'[b]Then don't[/b],' snapped back Cheryl, keeping her eyes on the stranger. She was [i]not[/i] dealing with this crap. The guy could go off blazing fire and breaking glass somewhere else. She had enough on her plate without having to handle tantrum-throwing wizards.

'[b]Well, don't know about you, but I've got things to do, stranger.[/b]' She glanced around and couldn't help a whistle at the nearly empty tavern. The few that were left were studiously not looking at them and trying not to shake. '[b]Might wanna learn how to temper that magic o' yours. Ciao.[/b]' She turned to head for the door.

The door slammed open. Piper's wings flared open, brushing against her hair, and he snarled.

'[/color][b]Cheryl Lusby, you are wanted on account of murder.[/b][color=mediumseagreen]' Guard Sancho. Or rather, judging from his maroon uniform, Chief Guard now. Balding head, wrinkled forehead - the last decade had not been kind to him. '[/color][b]Stay where you are. Do not move. And get that flaming lizard under control![/b][color=mediumseagreen]' He levelled his sword at her. Behind him, just outside the tavern, Cheryl could see other guards waiting. Blue uniforms. Lower rank soldiers, but just as capable of fighting with the spears they held by their sides. They weren't waving those around just yet, but she could tell they were itching to.

'[b]Hey Sancho.[/b]' She reached up, and Sancho took another step, sword still pointed towards her in warning. Rolling her eyes, she continued with the move, scratching Piper between his ears. His wings folded closed, but his snarl remained. '[b]Bit much for a welcome greeting, don't you think?[/b]'

'[/color][b]Lusby. Don't make this any harder than it has to be.[/b][color=mediumseagreen]' Sancho's voice was firm, unshakeable. So different from the quivering guard she remembered from back then.

'[b]The only one making this hard is you, Sancho.[/b]' Sighing, she dropped her hand, inciting a slight flinch from the Chief Guard. '[b]Elena killed Mum. So I did you guys a favour, got rid of another murderer. Saved you the paperwork of having to write up another bounty too! You're welc-[/b]' She stopped, staring down at the sword at her throat.

'[/color][b]Elena told us what's been happening lately. We should've listened. I should've known better than to trust the Breath Stealer, of all people.[/b][color=mediumseagreen]' Disgust swam in the middle of the hate in his eyes. Cheryl narrowed her eyes. Something wasn't right.

'[b]The flame you on about? Whatever Elena told you, it's not true.[/b]'

'[/color][b]This says otherwise.[/b][color=mediumseagreen]' He reached for something tucked in his belt and held it up. It glinted in the flickering firelight. A small corked bottle, containing a pink-tinted translucent liquid. '[/color][b]Pinkshrub. Funny. What, did you think poisoning her was more merciful? Couldn't face strangling your own mother?[/b][color=mediumseagreen]'

Dread sat cold in the pit of Cheryl's stomach.

'[b]What[/b]', she whispered, '[b]did you just say?[/b]'

Sancho lowered the bottle, stowing it away in his belt. He narrowed his eyes, practically spitting his next words.

'[/color][b]Cheryl Lusby. You're wanted for the murder of Elena Rushel and Velva Heilman.[/b][color=mediumseagreen]'

At the mention of her mother's name, Cheryl's throat closed.

'[/color][b]You will come with us. Your execution will take place tomorrow morning.[/b][color=mediumseagreen]'[/color]