When everyone came to—and thankfully everyone did—they woke with biting headaches. Every one of them woke with a groan and a severely diminished desire to live—but they did wake up, much to Valo’s relief. The young dragon hadn’t moved until they started to show signs of life. He remained, fixed in place, for two hours as everyone woke up.

“What the hells…” Holly groaned, sitting up. “What happened?”

“Holly!” Valo cried out. “You’re okay! You’re alive!”

“Alive?” Her face twisted. “Of course I’m alive. I just fell… asleep…” She furrowed her brow. “No, wait, I was… going to stop Alvarro and then… nothing.”

“Nothing?” Valo asked, turning his head. “You don’t remember me commanding you?”

“Commanding me?” Holly huffed. “As if I’d obey you…” She shrugged. “No offense. Dragon or not, I gave up following orders a long time ago. If I wanted to follow orders, I’d have stayed in the capital with my father. There’s no way I would’ve followed an order from you.”

“You didn’t have a choice,” Valo explained. “It’s… magic. At least, I think it’s magic. It’s a Skill that Ixiuul gave me. I can command anyone to do something.”

“Really?” Holly slumped forward. “And, what, you commanded us to… sleep?”

“To stop,” Valo said. “But it was, uh, stronger than I thought.” He paused. “Everyone stopped, like I intended. But they stopped too much. You stopped breathing.”

Holly raised her brows at that, marveling at the power—and the danger—of the ability.

“Wait,” she said, glancing around at the twenty or so dwarves still waking up. “You stopped… all of us?!”

Valo nodded.

“Huh…” Holly looked down. She glanced around, searching for Alvarro.

She found Alvarro still unconscious, him and Gino being doted on by a few diligent dwarves that’d woken up first. They dabbed their foreheads with cold cloths and fanned them with their hands. They’d tried to dabbed Valo’s head, but he told them to focus on the others.

Gino stirred and woke up not long after Holly, blinking himself awake. He sat up, and, like Holly, asked the same question.

“What… happened?”

“Valo commanded us to stop,” Holly explained, rocking onto her feet dizzily. “And we… Well, we stopped. Breathing included.”

Gino stared at Valo with equal parts fear and reverence.

As more and more of the dwarves recovered, their discomfort was palpable. They, of course, didn’t hold it against Valo, but they were still annoyed at the biting pain in their skulls. But, to Valo’s relief, after a few hours, everyone had woken up and gone about their day.

Everyone but Alvarro.

Holly, Valo, and Gino stood over him. He was breathing, Valo noted, but not much else. He barely stirred in his unconsciousness, though he had been unfrozen like everyone else.

“He’s even worse than before,” Gino said, not looking away from Alvarro. “He’s getting worse.” Gino dropped down into a squat and pulled the sleeve of Alvarro’s weathered shirt back, revealing his arm. His flesh was pale and shot through with black veins—and the black was spreading. “Doing… whatever he did with the dragon-pearls must be taking its toll.”

Holly stroked her chin. “But he hasn’t smoked it for some time now.” She narrowed her eyes, watching the black veins creep up his arm. “Perhaps that is a result of him not smoking a dragon-pearl.” She sighed. “We’ve seen it in the capital. After the dragons disappeared, folks’ lives were destroyed. Wizards who relied on dragons’ magic, traders who trafficked in draconic goods, lords and ladies whose wealth came from dragons in one way or another… When the dragons disappeared, they lost everything they’d built. Some of them recovered—but most didn’t. Most ended up chasing the bottom of a whisky barrel. And when they tried to stop drinking, they almost died.”

Gino quirked a brow. “So… we should just let him do it?”

Holly shook her head. “No… but this might be a bit more complicated than simply stopping him.” She glanced at Valo. “We have three dragon-pearls left, right?”

Valo nodded, narrowing his eyes. “Why…?”

Holly chewed her lip. “We might have to use a couple of them to wean him off…”

“A couple of what?” Valo asked flatly, staring at her. Of course, he knew exactly what she meant—that they’d have to use the dragon-pearls they salvaged from Alvarro to keep his withdrawal at bay—but the thought of letting two dragon-pearls go was unthinkable.

Slowly, Valo felt an intense—and now familiar—sensation well up within him. His chest felt tight. His wings tensed. His scales shivered.

It was his Covetous Urge triggering. Dragon-pearls were valuable—priceless, even, given that they were no more dragons to leave pearls anymore. There were only a few dragon-pearls left in the entire realm, and Alvarro had already destroyed fifty of them.

Whispers of greed and desire dawned in Valo’s ear, grating against his mind, grinding down any kindness he mustered for Alvarro. He told himself that Alvarro didn’t need the dragon-pearls—that Valo needed them more. He told himself that Alvarro didn’t really matter, in the grand scheme of things.

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That Valo’s quest mattered more than him—than his life.

They’re yours, the whispers hummed. Your pearls. Your fate. Your power. Crave it. Keep it. Hoard it…

But Valo shook his head, dismissing the dark thoughts. Evidently, Covetous Urge summoned the worst of his nature. He wondered if it did the same to the other dragons. Did its influence have something to do with their disappearance? With whatever Envius had done?

Valo sighed. “If… he needs it, then… fine.”

“I’m not sure weaning him off will be enough,” Gino grumbled, concerned. “This stuff seems downright poisonous.” He frowned. “He may need more than just a stern hand to get him straightened out.”

“Do you have healers?” Holly asked. “Are there dwarven healers?”

“There are some who have always wanted to be healers, yes,” Gino said. “But, uh, their expertise is… limited.”

Holly pursed her lips. “Right.”

In fairness to the dwarven healers, none of the dwarves were particularly proficient in their new career paths. After all, they’d spent most of their lives perfecting one trade and one trade only: the procurement of gold, be it from mining or trading or outright robbery, for their Dragonlords. When the dragons disappeared three years ago, they all decided to pursue paths they’d thought were unfit for dwarves, before. Bards, chefs, crafters—and, yes, healers.

But that meant a dwarf only had a few years experience in a given field. Bards—like Gino—had only been performing for a year or two, after spending time learning the lute or the fiddle. Healers, too, had only spent a few years studying ailments and injuries.

Additionally, dwarves rarely fell ill. Like dragons, they were largely immune to poisons and toxins; in fact, they often found deterrents appealing. Their food was laced with copious spices for this very reason. As a result of their immunity—be it magical or just a matter of nature, the scholars were not sure—they didn’t have much need for healers.

Unpracticed, inexperienced healers weren’t going to make much headway with Alvarro. They might even make him worse. This wasn’t an ailment any healer had seen before. A non-dragon consuming a dragon-pearl was unheard of. The dragons would have roasted a mortal alive for the offense, be they dwarf, human, elf, or otherwise.

Even Valo felt the urge to do so—at least, he felt the offense. It was a deep primordial offense, like a cat might feel if his kin hunted a mouse in his territory. Valo found himself stewing over it. His Covetous Urge certainly didn’t help.

But another way to help popped into Valo’s mind. He wasn’t sure if Covetous Urge had led him to it as a way to cling onto his precious dragon-pearls—but he heard a sudden whisper in his mind again. This time, though, they weren’t calling for him to hoard.

This time, they were whispering a name.

Grettle, Valo heard.

“Grettle!” the young dragon blurted.

Holly and Gino glanced at Valo, narrowing their eyes.

“She seems to know her herbs and remedies,” Valo explained. “She could help him.”

“Grettle…” Gino repeated. “You think Grettle the Gutwrencher could help someone? Save a life?” He guffawed. “She’s more likely to gut him for the fun of it.”

“She seemed alright to me,” Valo said.

“You were less than a week old at that point,” Holly said flatly. “You didn’t exactly have the life experience to be a good judge of character.” She snorted. “You still don’t.”

“She helped me,” Valo said, shrugging.

“That’s because you’re a dragon,” Holly suggested, folding her arms. “Anyone would do anything to curry favor with you.”

“She could’ve hurt you, too,” Valo countered. “She could’ve poisoned you, killed you, and taken me… But she didn’t.” He nodded his snout toward Alvarro. “Besides, we don’t know anyone who could take a look at him, do we?” He glanced at Holly and at Gino.

“Well…” Holly began, but she quickly pursed her lips, dismissing the suggestion before uttering it. “I suppose Grettle is the closest…”

“You can’t be serious…” Gino muttered, his gaze darting between Holly and Valo. “The Gutwrencher has killed more dwarves than either of you have met and you think it’ll be a good idea to take him to her.” He huffed, disbelief on his face.

Valo nodded again, stubborn in his idea. Of course, he wasn’t only thinking about Alvarro’s life. Whatever afflicted Alvarro had to have something to do with these obelisks—with the dragons’ disappearance. Learning more about Alvarro could very well mean making progress on Valo’s own quest.

“If we want to save his life… then yes.” Mimicking Holly, Valo tried to fold his arms too—but his proportions didn’t exactly allow for it so he ended up knotting his scaly arms in an awkward tangle.

Now that he thought about it, actually, all of his proportions felt a bit off. His wings felt too heavy on his back. His arms felt too long and too weighty. His torso felt too wide, and his tail too encumbering as he dragged it behind him.

“What?” Holly asked Valo, sensing that something was on his mind.

“My body,” Valo answered, scanning himself for an answer. “It feels… weird.”

Holly narrowed her eyes at him. “Now that you mention it… I think you’re taller.” She sidled up to him and examined him, slowly nodding to herself. “You’re… wider, too.” She peeked over him, looking at his wings. “And your wings are definitely bigger.”

“I leveled up,” Valo suggested. “From a Broodling to a Wyrmkin.”

Gino nodded. “That’ll do it.”

Valo recalled Ixiuul’s massive form. Could he, too, get that big? How many levels would that take? Given that he’d only grown about half a foot after reaching Level 2, it’d probably be more gradual than the impatient young dragon might like.

Holly’s mind, too, was spurring with possibilities. She kept staring at Valo’s wings. They’d grown more than the rest of him had—much more.

Holly pinched his wing and pulled it away from his back, opening the leathery lengths. She hummed as she examined them.

Valo craned his head over and looked at her. “What is it?”

“Your wings might be big enough…” Holly mused.

“Big enough for what?” Valo asked, uncertain if he wanted to know.

“Big enough to support your weight,” Holly answered, a smirk teasing the edge of her lips. “Big enough for you to fly.”

Valo brightened at the suggestion—but he quickly paled after Holly’s next suggestion.

Holly glanced at Gino. “We’ll let you think over taking Alvarro to Grettle…” She snapped back to Valo. “And while you think that over… we’ll learn to fly.”

Valo gulped.