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Anna snorts. Eights pats her on the shoulder.

"So," says Anna, stopping midway between the enormous archway and the edge of the enormous platform. "How do we tell which one's an us?"
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"I don't know. Do you think she does?" He scans the visible dragons. "Have you guys got a template color scheme?"

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Eights produces a square: white, with liquidy red streaks like smears of stylized blood.

"So, red and white," says Anna.
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"Then - maybe that's her?" he says, pointing.

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"Ooh," says Anna.

Eights waves.
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The indicated dragon circles closer.

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"Hi!" calls Nathan. "We think you might be their alt!"

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"Ooh," says the dragon. She lands on the edge of the platform. "Hi! I'm Arianna. Who're you?"

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"Anna," says Anna.

"Eights," says Eights.
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"Well, that sounds like a suspiciously alty name, Arianna."

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"How come yours doesn't fit?" she asks Eights.

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"I used to be an Anna too, actually, but then I died."

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"You don't look very dead," Arianna observes.

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"Dead people don't, if they hang out with the right people."

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"More weird other-world magic stuff?" she guesses.

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"There's a lot of that going around."

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"Can't argue with that," laughs Anna.

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"Are you minted?" Nathan inquires of Arianna.

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"Yeah!"

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"All right, then there will be no further arguments with Bells about that, I guess."

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"Probably not," Eights agrees.

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"Although isn't there another one of you in Gift? I didn't hear much about the details."

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"I haven't heard much more than that," says Eights.

"She's not here, though, so either she didn't want to come or they didn't want to invite her," says Anna.
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"Well, Gift is currently plagued by a Chelsea alt."

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