Hesitantly, Holly stood up, lifting her rucksack with Valo inside it. She heaved it—and Valo—up onto her shoulder, allowing the rucksack to hang from her left shoulder, giving her free movement of her right arm. She kept her right hand resting on her dagger, just in case.

She trailed after Gino, who opened the door and stepped inside.

The door led them down a narrow, short flight of spiraling stairs—clearly not meant for a human’s stature. Holly had to bend over awkwardly as she descended, and Valo came dangerously close to hitting his head on the rough stone as he bobbed up and down with Holly’s steps.

The staircase was partially carved and partially left rough. The carved part looked old—ancient, even. Its once-shining surface was worn down, scuffed smooth. The solid stone was dense and sturdy beneath Holly’s feet, as though they’d been there since the beginning of time, untouched by mortals.

Or, well, humans. These steps had been trodden on by plenty of dwarves, though—far more than Holly and Valo could have imagined. Generation upon generation of dwarves plodded down these stairs, bearing their tributes—gold, enchanted objects, anything the dragon’s heart desired.

But now, there was no dragon to pay tribute to, and no dwarves lining the stony halls, eagerly waiting for their moment with their liege—their turn to impress their dragonlord.

Gino led them through the stone arches that’d once rang with the cheers of a crowd of devoted dwarves and the roar of a pleased dragonlord.

The stone bore curious markings here. At a glance, Valo thought they might be some kind of language—but it seemed it was far too worn away for him to read it. As they ventured further in, the markings became more and more present, more and more defined.

“All who enter here…” Valo read aloud, scanning the strange text carved into one of the many arches, “pay tribute to Dragonlord Ixiuul—or burn.”

That seemed rather harsh to the young dragon. Then again, he too felt like spitting a bit of fire at Holly when she’d withheld the whisky he desired from him. He didn’t want to burn her, though.

“Is this… a Lair?” Holly asked, her voice echoing.

Gino glanced back over his shoulder. “It was.” He nodded and kept walking. “I paid tribute to Dragonlord Ixiuul here many, many times. Every year, when the moon turned gold, I brought him great chests of loot. And every year, he bestowed his blessing on me.”

They ended up in a large, open chamber, empty of all the glittering treasure it’d seen since it’d been built. Before them stood a great, cavernous hall of stone. The entire place was peculiarly well-lit for something underground; light streamed in from far off in the Lair, bouncing off every surface until the entire place was a dimly lit gray. The walls around them were carved smooth and multi-faceted, like they were inside a diamond.

But Valo’s eyes didn’t remain on the walls for long. His attention snapped to the large structure at the center of the room. An obelisk, jagged and uneven—much unlike the precise, careful construction of the rest of the Lair—loomed in the middle of the structure, its rough surface traced with deep, dark cracks.

No, Valo realized. Not cracks.

He squinted at the obelisk, and the cracks became a tangled blur. They looked… like a language—one he could almost read. But each time he felt he was close to understanding what it said, the cracks seemed to shift and rearrange themselves. He stared at the obelisk, trying to make sense of what he saw.

But he couldn’t manage it. All he saw was a messy blur, the dark of the cracks mixing chaotically with the gray of the stone, like ink in dirty water.

Valo shook his head, furrowing his brow. It was definitely a language—but there were too many pieces missing for him to tell what it said.

Could it be a clue about the dragons’ disappearance?

“What is it?” Holly asked, staring up in amazement.

Gino’s head arched upward, gazing at the obelisk. “I have no idea.” He huffed. “Every year, we paid our tributes to Dragonlord Ixiuul here. And three years ago, we came here expecting to do just that.” He sighed. “We waited for our Dragonlord to arrive. We waited and waited and waited…” He shook his head. “But he never came. We waited for days—but nothing. Not so much as a wingbeat nearby. Finally, after staying awake for days, most of us fell asleep—and when we awoke, Ixiuul’s treasure was all gone, and in its place…” He gestured at the obelisk. “Was this.”

Valo, Holly, and Gino all stared up at the obelisk, each unsure what to make of it.

“We don’t know what it is, nor what it does…” Gino said, drifting forward. He lay a hand on the obelisk’s rough stone. “But can you feel that? That… power it has.”

Holly edged closer. She didn’t feel it, and getting closer didn’t help much.

Valo, on the other hand, did. The entire obelisk gripped him and drew him closer. Its magic—if that’s what it was—was tangible, almost irresistible. The young dragon peeked out over Holly’s shoulder, then quickly found himself perching on her, sniffing at the obelisk.

But despite the magic’s allure, it felt like it was still just beyond his reach—like something was stopping him from touching it.

Holly furrowed her brow. “Wait a second…” She frowned. “I… think I’ve seen something like this before.”

Valo and Gino looked at her.

Holly glanced back at Valo. “The Lair we found you in,” she explained. “That place was mostly rubble—raided by countless bands of rogues, mages, warriors, all seeking what lay within. Gold, mounds of treasure, magic… None of them found anything, of course—but they ripped that place apart, stone by stone, searching for anything they could find.” She furrowed her brow. “In one of the chambers, there was a stone like this. It was more broken down, chunks of it undoubtedly ripped off and stolen, but there’s no mistaking it.”

Gino furrowed his brow. “There’re more of them?”

Holly nodded. “I think so.”

“Well, if it was broken down by people searching for loot…” Gino said, “then it must be the same thing.” He stepped forward and pointed at one of the larger cracks. “This gash wasn’t here when we first discovered the obelisk.” He glanced back at Valo and Holly. “Someone took it.”

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“Took it?” Valo asked, curious. “Why?”

“I… don’t know,” Gino answered, pursing his lips. “And it isn’t all they took.”

“What else?” Holly asked. “Treasure?”

“That was already gone,” Gino explained. “Gold, jewels, enchanted objects… All of it vanished. One night, this place was overflowing with the stuff. The next morning, all of it was gone, and this obelisk was in its place.” He tapped the obelisk, in the spot where the sliver of stone was missing. “But the obelisk was whole, then. And it stayed that way, for a year. Then, two years ago, we noticed that it was changing. Bits of it were breaking off every few days.” He pointed up at another spot. “A chunk here…” He pointed to a different part. “A sliver there…” He dropped his hand. “It was like it was being nibbled away by a rat.”

Holly huffed. “Big rat.”

“Not really.” Gino shrugged. He raised a hand, flat, and held it just an inch shorter than his height. “About this tall.” He dropped his hands and tapped his sides. “About this wide…”

“A dwarf has been taking chunks of this,” Holly realized, raising her brows.

Valo narrowed his eyes. “Why would he do that?”

“That, my young liege,” Gino said, “is the question.” He shrugged and turned back to the obelisk. “The dwarf who did it—Alvarro—was raving mad. Eyes as wide as saucers, bloodshot. Black veins on his face.” He shook his head. “He threatened to kill us all if we tried to stop him from taking more of it.”

“Kill you?” Holly furrowed her brow. “I thought dwarves don’t kill other dwarves.”

Gino nodded. “Indeed. We’re no kinkillers.” He frowned. “But whatever this obelisk is, it changed Alvarro—for the worse.” He sighed. “When we finally got him out of our town, though, we found something else in his burrow.” He waved them along.

Gino took them past the obelisk. In the corner of the stone chamber, a narrow corridor—barely more than a crack in the wall—was tucked away. The dwarf led them to it. Holly and Valo squeezed inside, edging deeper and deeper into the crack.

The passage quickly widened, though, opening up to a much larger corridor, flanked with small, dwarf-sized archways. Inside each one, uncomfortable beds, carved from the stone walls, were stacked above one another.

“This one,” Gino said, nodding at the last bedchamber. He stepped aside and allowed Holly and Valo to see inside.

Valo peered over Holly’s shoulder, scanning the room. This chamber, though, didn’t have a great obelisk dominating it—just a few stone beds, some old, abandoned rags, and a small, cracked lamp.

But Valo immediately noticed that there was something else—something important in that room.

On one of the beds, a shimmering film glimmered in the low light. Here, the light didn’t quite seem to reach the darkest corners of the rooms, lending them a heavy, natural darkness. But despite the darkness of the rooms, Valo recognized that shimmering rainbow color immediately.

“I-I know that color,” Valo muttered, perching his front legs on Holly’s shoulder. She winced beneath his weight as the young dragon burned her left shoulder.

Much to her relief, though, Valo quickly decided to hop down and scamper into the room. He pressed his snout into the shimmering residue, taking in whiff after whiff.

And he recognized the smell, too. It smelled—tasted—exactly like the dragon-pearl had when he’d bitten into it. Mint, iron, and a deep, bittersweet sensation hit him—his nose, and his heart.

It was unmistakable. This was from a dragon-pearl.

Valo furrowed his brow, staring at the residue. If this was just the residue, he wondered, what happened to the pearl?

Had there been another dragon here?

Was there another dragon alive?

Was he… not alone after all?

Valo spun, staring at Gino with hope in his eyes. “This… This is from a dragon-pearl.”

Gino nodded.

“Dragon-pearl?” Holly asked. “You mentioned that before, at the tavern.”

“It’s what Grettle gave me to grant me the ability to speak,” Valo explained. “It levels up one of my Skills if I—”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Gino said suddenly. “Grettle? Grettle the Gut-Wrencher?”

“The Gut-Wrencher?” Valo’s eyes widened. “I… don’t think so.”

“Runs a tavern, on the border of the Spiderbrow Woods?” Gino said, his face tensing.

Holly and Valo shared a look, then nodded.

Gino whistled. “It was her…” He raised his bushy brows. “And you two made it out of there alive?”

“‘Made it out of there’…” Holly repeated, frowning. “What do you mean? She’s… just an old lady, isn’t she? Just a taverness and innkeeper?”

Gino shook his head solemnly. “Oh, no… Grettle the Gut-Wrencher was one of the most brutal High Wizards to loom over this part of the realm.” He shuddered. “Everywhere she went, she made sure to earn that name.”

Valo narrowed his eyes. “She… seemed pretty nice to me.”

“Now that she’s retired, perhaps,” Gino said. “But a decade ago, she…” He paused, swallowing the memory. Then he glanced at Valo. “She was a monster.” Gino paused, allowing a thick silence to creep into the Lair.

“And she gave you… a dragon-pearl?” Holly asked, trying to get off of the subject of Grettle. She sensed that Gino didn’t want to talk about it. “And that was what gave you the ability to speak?”

Valo nodded. “Dragon-pearls are… condensed knowledge,” he explained. “Left by one dragon for another. Dragons leave them when they feel they’re about to…” He pursed his maw. “About to die.” He paused. “Other dragons can extract the knowledge within.”

Gino nodded, forcing a smile. “Pearls of wisdom—quite literally.”

Holly nodded, beginning to understand. She glanced over at the residue. “Wait…” Her eyes widened slowly as she, too, realized what Valo had. “If there’s residue here… does that mean…” She paused, glancing at Gino. “There’s another dragon.”

“We thought that, at first,” Gino sighed. “But we never found another dragon. All we saw was Alvarro stealing the dragon-pearls that Ixiuul’s brood left scattered throughout the Lair. When we tried to take them back for our Dragonlord, he attacked us, threatening to kill us. We voted to exile him the next morning, and he hasn’t returned ever since.”

Valo frowned, thinking. If he was just taking the dragon-pearls, why would there be residue on his bed? The pearl that Grettle had given to Valo hadn’t left any residue until Valo bit into it. Therefore—Valo reasoned—there must have been another dragon here, in these chambers, on that bed.

But how had the dwarves not seen it, then? How had Alvarro snuck it in here? Why would he, if he was trying to keep it a secret? Evidently, he had let something slip, judging by the mutterings Valo had heard in the tavern earlier.

Valo noticed something else about the residue, too—the sheer amount of it. When he’d bit into the dragon-pearl that Grettle had given him, it’d created a small cloud. But the residue on Alvarro’s bed was quite large, and it looked as though there were several clouds that’d left their residue on his bed.

Several clouds meant several dragon-pearls—which meant…

If there was another dragon, it was far, far higher level than Valo.

“How many pearls did he take?” Valo asked, not looking away from the residue.

Gino sighed. “All of them.”

“And how many would that be…” Holly asked, narrowing her eyes, “exactly?”

Gino folded his arms and shook his head. “Ixiuul’s brood was… quite large. He was one of the Elder Dragons. He has…” He pursed his lips, frowning tightly. “He had several clutches of children. At last count…” He stroked his beard. “Fifty-six.” He nodded to himself. “Fifty-six children. And each of them seemed to have laid a pearl and hidden it around the Lair.” He looked at Holly and Valo seriously. “And Alvarro took them all.”