Sonder approached the tall building.
Up close, its age showed, as did signs of failed forced to try and enter.
When Sonder tried to open the door, it was barred. It was marked with scratches from what she assumed were claws and spears.
She tried again, but it didn't budge at all.
Far above the entrance, there was a hole that seemed to be a window.
She couldn't jump up to it, and she assumed that neither could the kobolds, even if they stacked up something to stand on.
But it was open and large enough to fit Sonder through.
So instead of forcing her way in by blasting open the door, she decided to float upward and enter through the window.
A platform shimmered beneath her feet, far smaller than before, just enough for her to stand on, and drifted upward, brushing against hanging strings of beads and feathers as she stepped through the window.
Inside, the upper room was dim and full of stale air.
Dust swirled in the faint slants of light that poured in.
It looked deserted.
A rustle broke the silence.
Sonder spun toward it.
A kobold sprang from behind a table, shrieking, with a short spear clutched in trembling hands.
The point jabbed toward her chest.
She knocked it aside with a small pulse, sending the weapon clattering to the floorboards.
Three more kobolds scrambled into view, thin, weary, their scales dull and dirty. They grabbed improvised weapons: a broom handle, a chipped knife, a chunk of stone. None of them looked eager to use them. If anything, they looked exhausted.
One hissed, but it sounded more frightened than angry.
But as they saw that Sonder had no intent to harm, the first kobold hesitated.
Their eyes flickered to her staff, to her glowing bracelets, and to the window she'd just floated up from.
"Warm-blood… mage…?" they muttered in a rough voice. "Are… are you with them? The mad ones outside?"
Sonder was surprised. This was the first time one of the kobolds of the city had even attempted to talk to her.
"No," she said, lowering her staff. "I'm not."
The kobold with the chipped knife spoke. "They are not themselves." Their voice was higher than the first kobold's. "But they chase anything that moves. You shouldn't be here."
"I can handle myself," Sonder answered softly. "But what about you?"
The kobolds exchanged a glance. Their expressions weren't hostile. Just tired.
"What is wrong with the ones outside?"
They stood tense for a long moment, breathing hard, clutching their makeshift weapons, until one of them, a stooped kobold with clouded eyes and ribbons tied around his wrists, stepped forward.
"If you came to hurt us," they rasped, "you would have done so already."
Sonder let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. This was good.
"Thank you."