An impressive iron fence, the tops of the bars tipped in sharpened spear-tips, stood around the borders of the capital’s garrison. Inside, soldiers swung swords under the barked orders of their trainer. In the background, a troupe of stable boys and squires tended to a stable full of warhorses, everything from the agile beasts of Bluebell’s variety to massive, muscular draft horses more suited to drawing artillery and carriages than entering direct battle. Beyond them, a couple of knights half-dressed in armor chattered, laughing as they passed around a flask of alcohol.

“Everyone’s busy,” Gideon commented.

“It’s usually much emptier than this. It’s not as if the kingdom can afford a standing army. Until the True Dragon showed up, the garrison spent most of its time empty, aside from a few officers, Kingsguards, and bored knights. But with the True Dragon at the gates, there’s no time to rest. Everything goes into defeating that dragon. From training up the rabble the nobles managed to raise for the army, to getting the knights back into fighting fit and keeping the horses healthy, everyone’s busy,” Jet said. Despite himself, he tensed subconsciously. His hand curled into a fist, and fingernails dug into the flesh of his palm. I’m not a coward. I’m not. I’m doing my part, too.

Jet stopped there and put Gideon against the wall. Gideon looked at him, then at the garrison, and raised an eyebrow. “What’s this about?”

“You aren’t going in there. Stay out here. Stay quiet. Touch nothing. I’ll be right back, and when I come back, I’ll unlock your collar, understood?” Jet asked, looking Gideon in the eye. Dressed in his dress uniform, he looked the part of the officer, from his glittering braided hat to his polished shoes.

Gideon sighed. He eyed Jet’s uniform, a skeptical eyebrow cocked. “Where were you even keeping that outfit? How is it so clean?”

Jet glowered at him. “Gideon.”

Gideon gave a sloppy salute, rolling his eyes the whole time. “Yes, mom. Come on. You should let me go in, at least. I could tell them about dragons turning into people. They wouldn’t believe me, but…”

“I don’t need anything to take away from getting people to believe me about the cultists. Listen, even that is already a little crazy, you understand? Any more is too much,” Jet said, shaking his head.

“If we never try telling people, no one will ever believe me, even though I’m telling the truth. Think about it, Jet. Think about all the dragons we could kill,” Gideon argued, his eyes glittering.

Jet took a deep breath. If there really are dragons infiltrating the populace… but what would be the point of that? They’re already massively more powerful than humans. If lesser dragons wanted to take us out, couldn’t they? Especially with the True Dragon. If there’s dragons amongst humans, they’re probably more like Leo, right? Harmless. Or at least, not harmful.

He shook his head. “Now is not the time. Stay here. Be good. I’ll be right back.”

Gideon gave him a thumbs up. “Got it. No worries. I’ll be right here.”

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Jet hesitated one more second, looking at Gideon, then nodded and hurried off. He took a deep breath and adjusted his uniform one last time, snapping the collar into place and rolling his shoulders to get the hanging braid and epaulets to sit right. You’ve got this, Jet. You aren’t an embarrassment. This man doesn’t know you ran from the True Dragon.

Gideon lounged casually against the wall for a minute, whistling to himself. From the corner of his eye, he watched Jet vanish into the building.

He waited another few moments, studying his fingernails patiently.

Jet popped back out of the building, eyes narrowed. When he saw Gideon standing there quietly, seemingly ignoring him and the garrison both, he sighed out. For once, he’s following instructions. Good. With that, he walked back inside.

Gideon waited. A minute passed, then another. At last, he cracked a smile. “Gone for sure. While he’s busy in there… it’s time for me to dig into the most mysterious mystery yet. The mystery… of the ice cream shops.”

He shook his head. “Only recently popped up? A fad? Ha! Don’t make me laugh. I see through you, evil forces. What kind of mage wastes their life making tasty frozen treats? I won’t stand for it! It’s time for Gideon… to get to the bottom of this.”

Pushing away from the wall, Gideon took off into town at top walking speed.

One of the squires stood up and ran into the building.

“…immediately,” Jet finished.

“He’s gone!” the squire shouted breathlessly.

Jet and the garrison’s commander, Commander Jergen, both turned to look at him.

The squire pointed outside. “That guy, the one you passed me the money to…the one you told me to watch, he left!”

Jet rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Thank you. I’ll go fetch him before he gets into trouble.”

The commander smiled. He nodded at Jet. “Is that the mage we’ve been looking for? I’d like to meet him.”

No, you wouldn’t, Jet replied silently. “It is. He’s… a bit of a handful.”

“Is he as powerful as they say?” the man asked.

“Unfortunately,” Jet said, then bit his tongue. Quickly, he snapped a salute. “Sir. He’s the most powerful mage I’ve ever seen.”

“Unfortunately? Do you not want to kill the True Dragon?” Commander Jergen asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No! It was a slip of the tongue, sir,” Jet replied.

Commander Jergen nodded, putting his fingertips together. He gave Jet a small smile. “When you fetch him… bring him here. I’d like to meet him.”

“Sir.” Jet turned to go. Every second I waste here is another second Gideon has to get himself into trouble.

The commander clicked his tongue. “It seems you’ve forgotten your respect for rank along with your valor.”

Jet froze. His lip twitched in disgust. This asshole, who sits miles away from the fight, has the right to question my valor? I’d like to see this uptight douchebag face the True Dragon. He’d piss himself in ten seconds flat.

Bring Leo in front of a guy like this, who cares about rank and nothing else? Ha. Might as well execute him on the spot, and save us all the trouble.

Reluctantly, Jet turned, forcing his expression back to neutral. He saluted. “Sir!”

“Go. And bring him back here.”

“The cultists, sir?” Jet shouted, still saluting.

“Oh, right. Squire…” Commander Jergen paused, searching for a name, then sighed and waved his hand. “Squire. Go ready a few of the trainees and send them out toward Mollen. Tell them to route the cultists. I expect results within the week.”

The squire saluted with the wrong hand, swapped hands, snapped his feet together a beat late, then scurried out of the office.

“And a hundred pushups,” Commander Jergen added lazily. He sighed deeply. “Squires these days… What happened to the properly trained ones, huh? Nowadays, they’re all common rabble.”

“Sir,” Jet replied.

Commander Jergen waved his hand. “Go, go. Hurry back.”

Gritting his teeth, Jet snapped a turn and marched out of the office. Damn, do I hate that man. Actually, come to think of it… I want him to meet Gideon. Oh, do I ever…