Nate frowned. “A dragon?”

Hicket nodded. “Big one, too. Had a long, iron chain around its neck.”

“Was there anything else in the room?” Sam asked.

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

Hicket scowled. “I was distracted by the giant dragon charging at me.”

“Maybe this is the final boss?” Sam said.

“How did a dragon even get down here?” Charlie said.

“I don’t know, you could go ask it,” Nate suggested unhelpfully.

“Hag!” Charlie glanced around. “Where’s Hag?”

Hag appeared next to Charlie’s shoulder. “Yeah, boss?”

“Could you turn invisible and pop in to see what the room looks like?”

“Um…” Hag hesitated. “I’m not overly fond dragons and their habit of burning things alive and eating them, you know?” Hag stood on Charlie’s shoulder and casually leaned against his head as he spoke. “Not really my scene.”

“But you’ll be invisible,” Sam said. “Plus, we all know how incredibly brave you are.”

Hag’s eyes narrowed. “Go on…”

“Well, just the other night, I was telling Nate about how I thought you must be the bravest wisp in the history of this world.”

“You were?” Nate said. Sam elbowed him sharply in the side. “Ow. Oh. You were. She was.”

“What made you say that?” Hag said, clearly relishing every delicious moment.

“Well, think about it. Wisps pretty much only tend to the Sacred Grove where the Quorum of Trees lives, right? I can’t imagine a safer, cushier lifestyle. They literally live in the center of power for the light Aether. No risk, free food, tranquil surroundings.”

“This is true…” Hag said, rubbing his hands together like a fly.

“Yet you left that safety behind to venture into the wider world. To learn and grow and struggle and fight against evil. If that’s not courage, I don’t know what is.”

Hag thought about it for a moment, grinning to himself. “What else do you like about me?”

“Oh, lots of things. Such as… Uh…”

“You’re like, really funny,” Nate said.

“I don’t recall you ever laughing at my jokes,” Hag said, frowning at Nate. “Are you yanking my Hag?”

“Of course not! Sometimes, at night, I’ll remember something hilarious you said, and have a hard time falling asleep because I keep giggling.”

“He does,” Sam said. “At first I thought it was night toots or Nate crying himself to sleep like he did back home.”

“I didn’t-“

“But he definitely loves your jokes.”

“Does he think I’m handsome?”

Nate pursed his lips and inhaled through his nose, the annoyance welling up inside him. “Why yes, Hag, I do think you are handsome.”

“Aw, thanks, but I’m already seeing someone,” Hag said as he jumped off Charlie’s shoulder and flitted to Sam. He kissed her cheek and stroked her hair. “Out of the three of you,” Hag whispered in her ear. “You’re my second or third favorite.”

He then disappeared. They heard him flutter over to the door, which opened enough for something Hag-sized to slip through.

They could hear the dragon inside snuffing and snarling as it stalked around the room, dragging its heavy metal chain across the stone floor. It would occasionally issue a low, rumbling belch like a crocodile.

“Gri hope Hag okay,” she said. “If Hag hurt, it break soft man heart.”

Sam snorted. “Please. The only way to break that man’s heart is to take away his anti-depressants.”

They heard a guttural roar from inside the room.

“That can’t be good,” Nate said.

Hicket drew his sword, and put a hand on the door handle.

“Hicket, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to go kill that dragon.”

Nate put his hand on the door, preventing Hicket from opening it.

“Are you insane? That’s suicide!”

“Captain Stormbow charged me with keeping the three of you safe, and ensuring the success of our mission. If I must slay a dragon by myself to complete her orders, then so be it.”

Nate studied his face. “Is this because you ran away from the Archivist?”

Hicket’s countenance darkened.

“Because we were all terrified,” Nate continued. “You don’t have to prove your courage to us. We’ve seen your bravery on battlefield countless times.”

Hicket glowered at him with such rage that Nate withered. When Hicket finally spoke, his strangled voice was barely above a whisper, but his anger was palpable as the words slithered through his clenched teeth.

“Remove your hand from this door, or I will remove it from your body.”

Nate glanced nervously at his friends. Sam had found something deeply fascinating on the ceiling, and Charlie was attempting to remove some dirt that had become lodged under a fingernail.

Nate relented. Hicket glared at him with such hatred that Nate wasn’t certain if he was going to besiege the dragon, or him.

Hicket yanked the door open. “For glory! For honor!”

Through the small doorframe, they saw calamity. An enormous, wicked-looking dragon reared up to its full height and roared at Hicket’s challenge.

The heat from its mouth made the air shimmer and haze. The beast was enormous, far larger than the dragons they had seen Reave wrestling at the Academy. It must have measured over four hundred feet from tip to tail.

It was a living, breathing, savage cataclysm. Its long neck and chest covered with scars and lines from countless skirmishes. Around its mouth was a beard of jagged black horns that ran along its jaw and partially down its neck. Its scales were a faded, pale green, like a plant that had seen too little light during a long winter. Molten lava dripped from its mouth, hissing and smoking as it pattered to the ground.

It yanked angrily at the thick chain that extended from the floor to a metal circle around its neck, its colossal claws raking across the stone, leaving deep-ridged grooves.

The room itself was enormous, the vaulted ceiling nearly seven hundred feet tall, and nearly twice that width. A series of staggeringly huge pillars were scattered along the periphery of the room.

At the center of the chamber a broad platform hung from the ceiling. It was made from polished steel, and as the dragon lashed and snapped, they could see the platform hung just out of the creature’s reach.

Stacked atop the platform were enormous chests and neatly stacked bars of gold and silver, which glinted in the light of the thousands of lanterns that hung on long chains from the ceiling.

Behind the dragon stood a strange looking collection of metallurgical equipment, a huge furnace, and wrought iron pots that hung from chains. Hooks held tongs and hammers of all sizes and shapes. Stacks of metal ingots and wood sat neatly behind the furnace in cubbies carved into the wall.

Two deep, stone basins filled with water were at the base, and between them was a metal grate. The pools were filled from four enormous filtration barrels that were fed from pipes that disappeared into the wall.

Hicket held his enormous sword aloft, and ran screaming wildly at the dragon.

Hag appeared next to Charlie, panting and shaking, but uninjured. “Thanks guys! I almost died!”

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“I was trying to look through the chests for the hand and it must have heard me when I accidentally burped.”

The dragon’s crimson eyes narrowed, its vertical slits tightening as Hicket sprinted toward the beast. The dragon reared its enormous head back, its chest swelled as it inhaled, crackling and glowing like an inferno as its mammoth wings extended to their full length.

“Look out!” Nate shouted.

The beast opened its slavering maw and spat a stream of liquid magma and flame toward Hicket. The glowing slag slapped angrily to the ground, and even from this distance, the heat was unbearable, forcing them to step back from the entrance and shield their faces.

Hicket deftly dove to his left, narrowly avoiding the torrent of lava. Rolling to his feet, he closed the remaining distance as the dragon roared and raged.

“Come taste of my blade, beast. For I shall be your undoing!” Hicket leapt dramatically off of the dragon’s back leg, launching himself through the air. Time seemed to slow as he soared high above the beast, his battle cry still ringing in their ears.

He swung his enormous sword down with every ounce of his strength. The blade glowed and crackled with white energy. Charlie, Nate, and Sam watched in awe as his muscles rippled, his face a mask of pure, focused fury.

His blade hit the dragon squarely on the back of the neck. With a loud crack, it bounced harmlessly off the dragon’s scales. Hicket tumbling backwards. His momentum sent him spinning head over heels until he crunched heavily to the ground.

“Uh-oh,” Nate said grimly.

The dragon roared and pounced like a lion, digging its clawed hand onto Hicket’s back. His armor groaned under the enormous weight, and buckled. Hicket made a sound somewhere between a squeal and the sound a man makes when he is struggling to pass a kidney stone.

The dragon closed its hand around his torso, impaling Hicket on its wicked claws. Hicket coughed and a splutter of blood spewed from his mouth.

“Wait, no, I-” Hicket stammered.

The dragon grabbed Hicket’s legs with its other hand, and tore him in half. Sam gagged and covered her mouth.

It then stuffed his legs into its mouth, chewed twice, tearing and breaking the armor, bone, and meat to pieces, then swallowed with a glottal gulp.

It then tossed the rest of his body spiraling straight up, only to catch it with its sharp teeth as it fell back down. It shook what remained of Hicket like a dog would shake a small squeaky toy, before gobbling down the rest.

As it began to carefully lick and suck the tips of its fingers, Nate slowly shut the door, his eyes bulged in terror. He pressed his back to the door, and stared off into space.

“Now what?”

They stood in silence for an uncomfortably long time, each staring at the floor in wide-eyed horror. The dragon continued to chuff and rake the ground angrily, occasionally letting out an ear-splitting bellow.

Charlie was the first to break their reverie. “How certain are we the hand of Brenius is in this room?”

“This certainly looks like a treasure room to me,” Nate said. “We could send Hag back in to try and find-“

“Oh no you don’t!” Hag shouted, swooping up into Nate’s face, his mouth chittering angrily as he spoke. “You already almost got me killed once.”

“Seems like you would have been fine if you could hold your gas in…”

“Oh, sure, says the guy who has been softly bathing his poor clacker in putrid smells for the last seven months.”

Nate blushed and glanced briefly at Sam. “I haven’t-“

“I hate you, Nate,” Hag said, his tone matter of fact. “I don’t say that out of anger or spite. It is simply a statement of fact. Dogs have four legs, the world is round, and I hate you.”

“Hag,” Sam said, “the stuff you were digging through was up on the platform with the gold bars?”

Hag nodded.

“What else was up there?”

“Treasure chests, magic-looking swords and armor - a whole bunch of stuff.” He flitted nervously between Sam and Charlie as he spoke. “A lot of the chests were locked. I was trying to get them open, but you’d either need a key or a lock pick, which I don’t have. Or we’d have to smash them open, which isn’t conducive to staying hidden from the giant dragon that wants to eat you.”

“If sneaking in isn’t an option, and obviously a frontal assault on the dragon isn’t going to work, what are we left with?” Nate said.

They again fell into an uncomfortable silence, their mind racing through every video game, film, or comic book heist they had come across for any reasonable idea that might work.

Hag snapped his fingers. “I think I have it!”

“Oh boy…” Nate grumbled.

Hag grinned as he spoke. “Alright, here’s what we do. First, we create identical fake bodies for each of us.”

“How do we do that?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know, we’ll figure that part out.”

“That seems like a big thing to figure out.”

“You’re getting lost in the weeds, Sam. Please stop interrupting. So, we have these fake bodies disguised as ourselves, right?”

“How do we know the dragon will fall for the disguises?”

Hag glanced over his shoulder nervously before speaking out of the side of his mouth. “Look, between me and you, dragons aren’t the brightest group of creatures, you know what I’m saying?”

“I do not.”

“I’m not trying to sound offensive or anything, but-“

“Are some of your best friends dragons?” Nate smirked.

“Just let me finish. Then we take rope, and we tie the rope to the limbs of these bodies so they work like marionettes.”

Nate sighed. “Marionettes? Why would we-“

“Just let me finish!” Hag snapped. “So we take the marionettes, and then Gri will sneak into the room, and climb up to the platform with the bodies.”

“Gri can’t carry four bodies at once and not be noticed…”

“So she makes four trips; this isn’t rocket science, Nate.”

“If she’s making four trips up to the platform, why don’t we just have her retrieve all of the chests and bring them back here?”

“Just let me finish! So once she’s up there, she brings the marionettes to life using her puppetry skills-“

“Does Gri have puppetry skills?” Charlie asked, looking at Gri, who seemed completely lost in the discussion.

“I can teach her. I’m a great puppeteer!”

“Since when?” Nate said.

“Since shut up! If you would just let me finish.”

Nate rolled his eyes.

“So Gri does a little puppet show, which will distract the dragon, right? The dragon will be all like ‘oh, hey, a free song and dance show, this is awesome!’ which will give the rest of us enough time to climb up onto the platform-“

“Where Gri already is?” Sam said.

“Yes. Please pay attention and let me finish! So we sneak up there while the dragon is distracted, and take all the treasure.”

Nate stared at Hag in disbelief. “How do we sneak up there?”

“It doesn’t matter, let me finish!”

“I feel like that matters a lot.”

“Just let me finish! And then, once we have all the treasure out here, Gri will have the puppets attack the dragon.”

Nate closed his eyes, his face scrunched up as if listening to Hag’s plan was causing him physical pain. “The puppets attack the dragon?”

“Correct.”

“Why, exactly?”

“So that the dragon will then eat the bodies, and die from the poison.”

“What poison?”

“The poison we lace the bodies with. Obviously.”

“You never said anything about poisoning the bodies.”

“I thought it was implied.”

“How was it implied?” Nate said. He was so exasperated he was practically shouting. “And where would we get enough poison in the first place? And if we’re going to poison the dragon anyway, why do we go to all the trouble of putting on a puppet show?”

“Gee, I don’t know, Nate. A little thing called showmanship?”

Nate’s eyebrows arched so high they were in danger of disappearing into his hair. He pursed his lips as he stared at Hag.

“So, what do you guys think?”

“What do we think?” Nate said, his nostrils flaring dangerously.

“Yeah. It’s a pretty good plan, right?”

Nate inhaled sharply. “It is not a good plan. It is quite possibly the worst plan I have ever heard in my life, and I have been a Dungeon Master to the two least competent players in the history of table-top role-playing games.”

“Whoa! Hey now!” Sam and Charlie both said defensively.

“I’m sure I’m talking about someone else,” Nate said, his eyes not leaving Hag.

“You don’t have any other friends,” Charlie shot back.

“Hag,” Nate continued. “Not only was your plan overly and unnecessarily complicated, but it made zero sense. It would put all of our lives needlessly at risk for no reason, it requires us somehow acquiring four corpses that we can disguise as ourselves to trick a dragon - who has never seen us before and couldn’t care less what we look like - AND to somehow find poison in sufficient quantities and potency to kill said giant dragon, neither of which is something we can do. Your plan was pointless, longwinded, insane - not in a funny way, I should add, but in a concerning way - and frankly, kind of racist.”

Hag opened his mouth to protest, but Nate cut him off.

“All you have accomplished by telling us this plan, is wasting five more minutes of our time. We are all now less intelligent for having listened to you.”

Hag scowled. “You know, a simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, thank you.”

“You belong in prison, Hag.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, what is prison?”

“What is prison?” Charlie asked, confused.

“Yeah,” Hag said. “I’ve been confused about that since we recruited Zambit.”

“It’s a place where we take criminals, and make them sit in a room and think about their mistakes.”

“So kind of like therapy?”

“Pretty much?”

“Well, this is all riveting, and super helpful,” Sam said. “But maybe we could try talking to the dragon?”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Talking to the dragon?” Nate repeated.

“Yeah,” Sam continued. “Hicket charged and tried to kill it, right? But the dragon has been chained up in here for who knows how long. Maybe it was just hungry and felt threatened?”

Nate and Charlie both stared at her skeptically.

“Can dragons even speak? Or understand language?”

Hag held up a finger and inhaled sharply to comment, but a booming growl from the next room cut him off. “Yes, we can speak and understand language.”

They froze in terror.

“You, uh… you heard all that?” Charlie said.

“Yes,” the dragon answered, its voice like the bellows of a massive forge.

Hag flitted to Charlie, hiding himself behind his shoulder, only his head peeking out. “I was just, you know, kidding about the ‘dragons not being the brightest’ thing,” he said nervously.

He was met with a very loud silence.

“We, uh, we don’t want to fight you,” Sam said.

The dragon chuckled, a threatening rumble that made the hairs on their arms stand at attention. “I don’t know that anyone would consider what happened to be a fight.”

The ground shook as the dragon paced in the next room.

“Nor what would happen to you should you try to harm me. A fight?” it chuckled again. “No, more like a light lunch.”

“We’d prefer to not be eaten,” Sam continued, trying her best to hide her abject terror. “But we need to find an artifact, and we think it’s in there with you.”

The dragon tapped its long claw on the ground, which sounded like a pickaxe grinding against stone. “An artifact, you say?”

“Yes. Listen, can we come in there to talk to you?”

“Are you insane?” Nate hissed at her. “Go in there? With the fire-breathing dragon?”

“I don’t actually breath fire,” the raspy voice behind the door said. “I belch lava.”

“Of all the terrible ideas we’ve had, this might be the worst,” Charlie said. “It’s making Hag’s plan sound downright reasonable.”

Sam ignored Nate and Charlie’s protests. “Listen, Mr. Dragon, sir. If I come in there, will you promise not to eat me?”

There was a long pause.

“Mr. Dragon, sir?”

“I am thinking on it,” the beast answered. “On the one hand, I am still quite hungry, and the taste of real meat and bone after so many years was a treat. On the other hand,” it continued, “I have not had a civilized conversation for over seventy years.”

The dragon sighed heavily, and they could hear the gentle hiss of magma as it spattered heavily to the ground.

“Very well,” it finally said. “If you do not attack me, you may enter and speak. But know this.” They heard a huge set of wings flapping heavily. “If you try to harm me, or take anything from the treasury, I will flay your skin and eat you alive.”

“That seems fair,” Sam said. She put her hand on the doorknob, and closed her eyes. She inhaled slowly through her nose, steeling herself for what might happen the instant she opened the door. She wondered how long it took to die if you were covered in magma. It was not a particularly pleasant thing to consider.

“Sam,” Nate said softly. “Maybe let’s not.”

She pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The dragon stood at the center of the room, its long neck arched, its bearded face regarding her with an expression of curious suspicion.

“Hi,” Sam said, her voice was shaky. “My name is Sam. What is your name?”

The dragon’s eyes narrow. “I am called many things in many tongues. But I believe they call me Zorshu the Magnificent in the language of the Children of Kadmon.”

Nate peeked around the corner of the open door. The dragon was terrifyingly huge. Just being near something so monstrous boggled the mind and made his hands shake.

Sam slowly approached the dragon. “Well, Zorshu, first, I’m very sorry about Hicket, the guy who attacked you. He shouldn’t have done that.”

Zorshu tilted its head like a dog hearing a strange, high-pitched noise. “No, he shouldn’t have,” the dragon finally said. “But, he was delicious nonetheless. Now, tell me, Sam, what desperation would bring a Child of Kadmon here to the depths of this broken temple?”

“We’re trying to find the hand of Brenius the Divine.”

The dragon’s mouth curled into what Sam assumed was a smile. The rows of long, thin, sword-like teeth made her shudder.

“Oh-ho, indeed?” Zorshu slowly circled to Sam’s left, drawing closer as it moved. “And what, pray tell, would a Child of Kadmon do with such a thing, were she to find it?”

“The Conclave of Flame and Salt seek to bring ruin to the world,” Sam said. “We want to stop them.”

“Perhaps the world could do with a little ruining,” the dragon said, changing course, but still slowly inching closer to Sam as it stalked her like a tiger. “The Soldiers of the Sun have held sway over this world since the beginning of the fourth age. For a thousand years, the light Aether has held dominion over the land. Perhaps it is time for a change?”

“The light Aether is all that is good,” Nate said, his head barely poking out from the doorway. “Why would we wish to overthrow a benevolent power that seeks to protect life?”

“The Aether is neither good nor evil,” Zorshu said. “The Children of Kadmon have always projected their foolish morality onto the natural world. The light Aether is life, growth, peace, and order. The dark Aether is death, decay, conflict, and chaos.”

“That sure sounds like good and evil to me,” Nate said, stepping cautiously into the room. Charlie huddled behind him, using Nate as a human shield. Gri and Hag remained at the entrance, Gri with her axe at the ready.

“A child’s view of the world,” Zorshu said. “Tell me, what would happen if death were eliminated from this world?”

“All death?”

“Yes. If every living creature became incapable of dying.”

“We’d all be a lot happier, for starters.”

“Would we?” the dragon growled. “No creature dying, yet still reproducing. Populations exploding. How long before the hunger and needs of the many outstrip the resources of this planet? What would fertilize the soil so that the trees and flowers could bloom and bear fruit? Imagine the suffering you would unleash upon the world; countless empty bellies, unable to be sated and unable to die.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought if it that way…”

“You cannot sustain life without death, nor can there be death without life. You cannot have order without chaos, nor chaos without order. The Soldiers of the Sun and the Conclave of Flame and Salt exist within that same dichotomy. So long as one struggles to eliminate the other, the Aether will ensure the scales are tipped and the balance restored.”

“I told you guys!” Charlie shouted.

“Charlie, stop yelling like an idiot,” Sam hissed. “You’re embarrassing me in front of the cool dragon.”

“The Soldiers of the Sun keep talking about wanting balance in the Aether, just like the stupid Jedi talk about balance in the Force. But they are actively trying to wipe out the dark side,” Charlie said, ignoring Sam’s obvious embarrassment. “It makes no sense!”

“We dragons, like the Archons and Watchers, represent a sacred aspect of the Aether,” Zorshu said. “We are the embodiment of harmony between the light and dark.”

“How did you come to be bound and chained in this place?” Nate asked. The dragon’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “If you, you know, don’t mind my asking.”

The dragon ran its long, forked tongue along the jagged upper row of sharp teeth in its enormous maw, as if considering breaking its word and swallowing Nate whole.

“I was deceived by a wretched spellcaster over five hundred years ago. The very same being who built this temple.”

“You’ve been trapped here for five hundred years?” Sam said.

“Yes. The deceiver was the creator of powerful magics. Her weapons and armor, infused with the power of the Aether, were sought by kings and queens across the land.

“The black artificer discovered new magical properties among the otherworldly ore left behind by the impact of the dark star. But the metal was difficult to work with, and required heat of unimaginable power to smelt and refine.”

“Like a dragon’s breath…” Sam said.

“Indeed. The foul deceiver lured me here by first stealing a clutch of eggs, and then claiming to have rescued them. She offered to return them to me out of her alleged sense of honor. When I arrived, I was ambushed and enslaved by these enchanted irons.”

The dragon yanked angrily at the iron collar around its neck. “She forced me to work as her furnace, as she created some of the greatest weapons of any age.”

“Why didn’t you just eat her?” Charlie asked.

“Do you not think I would have?” the dragon swooped its enormous head low, sniffling and snuffling at Nate and Charlie. “Do you not think I would have cracked the black wizard’s frame, rent her flesh, and cooked the very meat from her bones? Or do you think I enjoy wiling away the years in this prison, defecating through a grate at the back of the room, being fed the same food through a magic slot every ten hours like some common beast of labor?”

Nate and Charlie both trembled in fear as the Zorshu’s boiling breath beat them.

“But this accursed collar prevented it,” the beast said, slowly rearing back up to its full height. “It would not allow me to harm its creator. I do not know what fate befell the blighted wizard who imprisoned me here, but I have not seen nor heard from her in a hundred years.” The dragon lashed its long tail angrily. “But I hope her death was slow, and painful, and filled with agony and despair.”

“Will you help us?” Sam said. “Will you let us take the hand of Brenius the Divine from this place?”

The dragon reared up to its full height, staring down at her, studying her for a moment. “No, I do not believe I will.”

“Why?”

“Perhaps the Conclave of Flame and Salt will restore balance to the Aether,” the dragon said. “Perhaps they will not. But the world is ripe for a new age. Too long have the Soldiers of the Sun and the Council of Kings held the reins of power. The Aether grows restless, I can feel it, even here, in this abominable pit.”

The dragon sniffed the air. “Yes, I think it is for the best that your quest fail. I am sorry, Child of Kadmon, but you will not leave this place with the hand of Brenius while I yet draw breath.”

The dragon turned its ridged back to them, returning to its resting place beneath the platform at the center of the room.

“What if we could free you?” Sam said suddenly.

The dragon froze in its tracks. “Free me?”

“Yes,” Sam said, a rush of excitement coursing through her veins. “What if we could free you from this place? From your imprisonment. Would you then give us the hand of Brenius?”

“Sam…” Nate said through pinched lips. “Perhaps we shouldn’t promise the giant dragon something we can’t deliver?”

The dragon glanced over its shoulder. Its slit eyes studied Sam’s face. Rearing on them, it roared. Nate and Charlie both screamed in a register usually reserved for sopranos. But Sam stood her ground.

It charged Sam. It took all her will not to flinch or flee from the beast as it barreled toward her. It stopped, its colossal nose mere inches from her chest, its dark red eyes pierced her to her core.

“You would lie to one as mighty as I?” Zorshu said, its voice so filled with menace that for a second Sam was certain the beast would devour her. “You think me stupid? That I will give you the hand and see you leave me here in chains to suffer for another century? Do not speak foolishness, little girl.”

“It is not foolishness,” Sam said. “You have something we want, and you want something that we can help you gain. Your freedom.” She stared into the dragon’s eyes. “If you will swear to give us the hand of Brenius the Divine, then I swear to you, we will set you free.”

“Um… Sam?” Nate said. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

The dragon studied her face. It glanced between her and her friends. She could feel it now, feel this beast in the Aether. Feel its bitterness, its fury at being trapped alone, its yearning to soar through the skies, to be free, to see its kin once more.

Its anger became hers. To see such a magnificent creature chained to the ground. She remembered visiting the zoo as a child. She had wandered away from her mom, as she frequently did, and had returned to the primate house.

Standing alone, looking through the thick window, a giant orangutan had approached her. It sat at the glass, and stared into her eyes. She had sensed such sadness there, like the animal knew something had been taken away from it.

As the dragon studied her face, she began to cry, not fully understanding why. But she knew, deep down inside, whether the dragon agreed to help them or not, her course was set. She would see this creature freed, or die trying.

With a final huff, the dragon reared back up. “Very well. Free me, if you can, and the treasure you seek shall be yours.”

Sam sighed in relief, and practically collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. It had taken every ounce of concentration and energy not to panic and run screaming from Zorshu’s presence. She began to shiver as they returned to the hallway.

“Are you okay?” Nate asked, grabbing her arm to steady her as her knees nearly gave way. “Are you cold?”

“No, I think it’s just the adrenaline wearing off…” She began to gasp. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Nate laughed, and hugged her. “Yeah, that was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen you do. And I was there the time you dared yourself to fit as much spaghetti in your mouth as you could, and nearly choked to death on a noodle before vomiting all over the table at Olive Garden.”

“Not my finest moment, I’ll admit.”

It was Gri who finally asked the question they were all avoiding. “How we free dragon?”

“Actually, I had a thought,” Charlie said, rubbing his chin.

“I know that look,” Nate said. “You’re going to blow something up, aren’t you?”

Charlie scowled. “Maybe. Don’t ruin the surprised.”

He gave them each assignments. With the dragon’s help, Gri collected iron ingots from the neat stack near the furnace, which the dragon melted. Gri poured the metal into sheets, which as they hardened, she pounded and bent to form crude metal boxes.

Sam caught Charlie’s eyes linger a little too long as she worked, sweat dripping down her rippling muscles. She elbowed him in the rib.

“What?” Charlie said, suddenly extremely interested in the wooden crate he was emptying of gold coins and gemstones the size of his fist.

“You know what!” Sam teased. “She could take you roughly in a barn.”

“I don’t think I’d survive the ordeal,” Charlie mumbled, his cheeks flushing.

“I’m just saying…” Sam said, waggling her eyebrows at him.

“Look, just because you and Nate haven’t managed to kiss already-“

Sam elbowed him again. “We’re just good friends.”

“Uh-huh.”

Charlie handed her the crate, and one of the shovels he had snatched from the assortment equipment by the furnace. “Charcoal. We need loads of it.”

“Where will I find charcoal in a place…” she trailed off. “Oh, right, fire-breathing dragon.”

“Once you’ve filled the crate, take a hammer, and smash it. A lot. We need to grind it to powder.”

“Can I have Zorshu step on it?”

“I don’t care. It just needs to be in a super-fine powder.”

Sam gave him a mock salute, and wandered off.

Nate reappeared from the depths of the tunnels, a crate about half-full of yellow, crusty-looking stone. He had tied a piece of cloth over his nose and mouth, and was sweating profusely. “Is this the right stuff?”

Charlie dipped his hand into the yellow substance, and crushed some with his hand. It smelled awful, like rotten eggs ripening during a gas leak.

“Yup. We need more, though.”

“Seriously?” Nate said. “Why do I have to have the worst job?”

“Trust me,” Charlie said, tying his own face mask on. “You don’t.”

“What are you doing?”

“You remember the piss room?”

Nate shuddered.

“Well those pools of dragon urine have had bat guano soaking in them for who knows how long.”

“And?”

Charlie sighed. “You really shouldn’t have quit Scouts after losing the pinewood derby…”

“I literally watched Mike cheat,” Nate said. “After the weigh in, he glued three extra metal rods of weight to the bottom of his car.”

“Nate, we were in third grade. At some point, you’re going to have to let it go.”

“I do not. So, you need to collect some pee samples for a drug test or something?”

“When organic material like bat dung sits in uric acid, it produces saltpeter.”

“Cool,” Nate said. “What’s a saltpeter?”

Charlie shook his head in disgust, and wandered down the tunnel.

The stench in the pee room was exactly as awful as Charlie recalled. Using a shovel, he began to collect bat guano, scraping it from along the edges of the pools and sloughing it into a bucket. He made several trips, filling the bucket and slogging it up to the main room.

As Sam and Nate set to work grinding the sulfur and charcoal, Charlie had Gri chop one of the pipes attached to the filtration barrel, and lug the enormous thing over by the furnace. Water sprayed across the room, but the dragon simply pinched the pipe closed.

They drained the water from the barrel’s top chamber, and Charlie poured the guano inside. He then added water, and stirred the mixture, trying not to gag during the process.

A cloudy liquid slowly drained through the filter, emptying into a bucket. Charlie continued this process, adding more water to the poop, stirring, collecting the water.

He then instructed Gri to pour the water into one of the large crucibles. They lit a small fire underneath, so that it slowly simmered. Taking a long wooden stick, he began to skim excess material as it surfaced during the boiling process.

It was a slow procedure. Filter, boil, skim, repeat. But little by little, as the water fully evaporated, Charlie was able to collect the cream-colored crystals that were left as the liquid boiled off.

Sam peaked over the edge of the iron pot Charlie was scouring. “So this is saltpeter?”

“Yup,” Charlie said, not taking his eyes off his work. He would occasionally stop to dab the sweat from his eyebrows with the sleeve of his shirt.

“What’s saltpeter?”

“Potassium nitrate.”

“Oh. That completely clears things up,” Nate said. Sam and Nate were bored, and restless, watching Charlie wile away the hours.

Charlie sighed. “Did neither of you pay attention in chemistry?”

He tilted the crucible, dumping and scraping the latest batch into a bucket. He hefted the bucket, and carried it to the containers of sulfur and charcoal that Sam and Nate had collected hours earlier.

“This isn’t going to be super exact, since I don’t have a scale, but…” He began to pour the white powder into a barrel. “Around seventy-five percent saltpeter.”

He grabbed the box of sulfur, and scooped it in by the handful, “about twelve percent sulfur.”

Lastly, he poured the fine charcoal powder over the two. “And the rest, charcoal.”

“Do you need more urine?” Hag asked. “I have some I can contribute.”

“No thanks, Hag,” Charlie said as he grabbed a stick and began to very gently mix the powders together. He mopped his forehead.

“Here,” Sam said. “Let me do that part.”

Charlie handed the stick over to her. “Just be careful with it. And mix it thoroughly.”

“Got it.”

“I mean it. Extremely thoroughly.”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you.”

“Okay, so what have we spent the last twelve hours making?” Nate asked as Charlie sat heavily to the ground.

“Black powder.”

“What?” Nate said, equal parts horrified and impressed. “As in, gunpowder?”

Charlie nodded, taking a bite from some dried meat he had stashed in his pocket. “Definitely not as refined as the commercial stuff you could buy back home, but it should do the trick.”

“And you learned this in Boy Scouts? I must have missed the day we worked on the ‘black powder and siege weapons’ merit badge.”

“Oh, there’s no merit badge for this kind of stuff. But every scout camp always has the one super-weird, adult-leader guy, who is probably on some FBI watchlist, and teaches you all the good stuff.”

Charlie dug through his bag, and pulled out the tail end of his rope. Using a small knife, he cut about two feet free.

He began to slowly twist and unwind the strands of the rope, pulling long, thin strings free, until he had ten or so. He twisted them tightly, and knotted the ends, so they wouldn’t fray.

He took a swig from his canteen. They had gratefully replenished their water supply using the crisp water from the cooling pools.

“I think I’m about done,” Sam said. Charlie inspected her work, and nodded in satisfaction.

He took a small handful of the black powder, and put it in a hew-wooden bowl. He poured a small amount of water, and mixed it until he had a black slurry.

One by one, he put the small sections of rope into the sludge, rolling them around until they were saturated in the thick liquid, then placed it carefully on a long, flat sheet of metal.

“While those dry, we should fill the cubes.”

Sam, Gri, and Nate handled filling duties while Charlie ate, and carefully nursed a tiny fire underneath the metal tray with the lengths of string. He had to be careful. Normally, he’d let the fuses dry naturally and not risk setting them off and having to start the process all over. But even he was growing impatient with the process.

Gri had made ten iron boxes, each about a square foot, with a two-inch hole at the top. They poured the black powder to the top. Nate would occasionally shake and tap the metal box, to make room for more of the explosive. In the end, Charlie had overestimated the amount needed.

He poured the remaining powder into several empty waterskins they had salvaged from their fallen comrades during the perilous journey. He stoppered them tightly, and secured them in his back, stuffing strips of cloth and hay around them to keep them safe.

The fuses had finally dried. He stuffed them into the cubes, and had Gri gently tap the metal plugs she had made into place, threading the fuse through a small hole at the center. He stepped back after they had finished their work.

The cubes weren’t very pretty, but they were strong. Gri had impressed Charlie with both her speed and her craftsmanship.

“Now for the unpleasant part,” Charlie said, turning to the enormous dragon that watched him intently. “We’re going to stuff these around your collar,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “They’ll explode, and the blast should break the collar, setting you free.”

“Won’t that blow his head clean off?” Nate asked. Zorshu’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Sam elbowed Nate sharply in the rib.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Someday, you’re going to have to figure out a way to not blurt out every asinine thought that occurs to you,” she said from the corner of her mouth while forcing a broad smile. “I’m sure a dragon as powerful as Zorshu will be unharmed.”

Charlie quickly agreed. “Yes, of course. We all saw how Hicket’s attack - and once again we’d like to apologize for that, and emphasize that we never really liked the guy,” he hastily added. “But his blade bounced right of your skin, didn’t it?”

The dragon studied his face, but did not answer.

“If Hicket’s sword, with all his strength and magic, couldn’t pierce your skin, then I don’t believe this will injure you.”

The dragon breathed out sharply. “If it is not strong enough to hurt me, then how will it be strong enough to break these iron chains?”

“Well, I have a theory,” Charlie said. “I think these chains are enchanted with protection from you, and from the Aether. But these,” he gestured to the bombs, “are neither. If your chains were forged and wrought by heat and pressure, then they can be unmade by those same forces.”

“An interesting theory,” the dragon growled. “And if you’re wrong?”

“Well,” Charlie said. “Then we’ll have to think of something else, I suppose.”

Zorshu’s enormous head regarded each of them. Sam could sense its unease, its distrust, its fear. But, without a word, the dragon laid its head on the ground.

They quickly shoved the metal cubes in the space between the dragon’s thick, unyielding scales and the iron collar. It was a tight squeeze by the time they managed to push the last box in place.

Charlie grabbed a torch. “You guys are going to want to wait in the hallway.”

“What about you?” Sam said.

“Oh, I’ll be there as quickly as I can,” Charlie grinned. “Gonna light these makeshift fireworks and run for it, hillbilly style.”

They returned to the tunnel that led to the treasure room, and huddled behind the door, their heads barely peeking out.

Charlie breathed deep, stealing himself. “Are you ready?” he asked Zorshu.

“I’m not sure,” the dragon said. “But proceed.”

Charlie touched the torch to the fuses, and one by one they puffed and burst into flame. They were burning faster than he anticipated.

“Come on, light,” he muttered to himself as he moved from box to box. He glanced at the first fuse, nearly halfway spent. “Not good.”

He lit the last fuse, and tossed the torch. Running full-speed toward the door, he shouted “Get back, everyone! Get ba-“

A series of loud explosions rippled through the air. Time slowed as Charlie was tossed into the air like a dead fish at a fish monger. It felt as though a mule had kicked him in the back, as if someone had punched all of his internal organs simultaneously.

He saw Nate and Sam’s expression of horror, their faces illuminated in the bright light of the explosion behind him. He watched in fascination as his shadow jumped across the wall, as if caught in a series of flash bulbs from a group of ambitious photographers at a red carpet event.

He tumbled head over heels, spinning wildly, and as he turned, he saw the dragon rear up. It was probably roaring, though all he could hear was the overwhelming ringing in his ears.

The dragon spewed flame and magma. The platform high above tottered and collapsed as the blasts continued. A shower of treasure, coins, gems, and gold and silver ingots scattered like glitter across the room.

He continued to spin, now right-side-up and facing his friends who watched his approach in terror. He crashed head-first into both of them, unable to stop his momentum.

The three of them sat in a pile for a few moments. His ears continued to ring, but slowly, the muffled sound of crashing and roars of fury began to cut through the sound. Disoriented, he could feel the cold floor scraping against his back. It took him a minute to realize he was being dragged deeper into the underground complex.

He looked up and saw Gri had tossed a bruised Sam over her shoulder, and was dragging both he and Nate away from the dragon. The ground lurched and shook as crushed stone and massive rocks crashed through the doorway from the treasure room.

Had he miscalculated that badly? He knew the explosion was going to be big, but he didn’t think it would be enough to bring the entire tower down around their ears.

The shaking finally stopped. Gri let them go, and gently put Sam on the ground next to them. Charlie’s hearing had finally returned, though it still sounded as though he had been swimming and had residual water in his ears. Probably a perforated eardrum, but he was mostly just grateful to be alive.

He coughed and spat, his mouth full of dust and ash.

“Everyone okay?” Nate said.

Sam groaned. “Not really. I feel like I got tackled by seven sweaty fat guys.”

“So a typical Saturday night?” Charlie grinned.

“No, it’s only one sweaty fat guy, but that’s not a nice to describe your dad.”

“Is that meant to hurt my feelings?” Charlie laughed, despite the pain he felt pretty much everywhere. “He is fat and sweaty, and has enough body hair to make me wonder if he is actually a werewolf that got caught mid-transformation. Why would you sleep with him?”

“So I could give him a child he could actually be proud of.”

All three of them burst into painful laughter, groaning and grunting between chuckles.

“Alright,” Charlie sighed. “Who wants to go see if we accidentally killed the dragon?”

They gingerly pulled themselves to their feet. Miraculously, no one appeared to have sustained any serious injuries. Charlie thought he might have bruised a rib, but no broken bones, no concussions, and everyone had all of their fingers and toes.

Heading back toward the treasure room, Gri began to push the heavy stones out of the way. The three of them tried feebly to help, but eventually gave up, realizing they were more of a hindrance than anything else.

Gri shoved an enormous boulder, and to their surprise, a shaft of sunlight broke through the dusty air.

A few more shoves, and Gri created an opening big enough for them to wriggle through. They gaped upward.

A huge section of the ceiling had collapsed in the explosion, sending rubble and debris everywhere. This had apparently proved too much for the already-structurally-unsound tower, and caused half of it to topple.

They now stared out over the vast, shattered sea, with its gray swells and windless undulation. Though the land was bleak, the open air came as a relief from the stifling smells and claustrophobic caves they had been in for so long.

Charlie walked to the center of the room. Lying in the wreckage was the bent, broken collar that had been around Zorshu’s neck.

“Well, crap,” he said in amazement. “It actually worked.”

“Where’s the dragon?” Nate said. “I swear, if it flew off with the hand, I’m going to be furious.”

“It didn’t,” Sam said, grinning. “Look!”

She pointed to the sky. High above them, the dragon was soaring through the air, beating its thick, leathery wings. It cut and spun, dove and circled, looking almost playful as it did.

“Let’s get out of here before the rest of the tower comes down on top of us,” Nate said, as a section of stone wall crumpled to the ground.

As they stumbled through the rubble, Charlie would occasionally stop to pick up a gem or gold bar that caught his eye.

“Dude, come on,” Nate said impatiently. “That stuff isn’t worth dying over.”

“What are you, my parole officer? Keep your shirt on.”

They were relieved to see the tower had not collapsed on their clackers. They quickly untied them, and rode a safe distance away.

They had to shield their eyes from the dust as Zorshu plummeted, bathing them in shadow is it flew overhead. Swooping up, it suddenly turned and plunged toward them, landing heavily on the ground.

“Five hundred years,” the dragon laughed. “For five hundred years, my wings were clipped.”

Zorshu lowered its enormous head, and stared Sam directly in the face.

“I misjudged you. Thank you.”

It turned to Charlie.

“And you!” it roared. “You brilliant, weird, arrogant, amazing fool. I owe you a debt that I will not soon forget.”

The dragon slammed its fist into the ground, “And of course you couldn’t have done it without the fine craftsmanship of the barbarian princess, eh?” He chuckled.

The Dragon then regarded Nate for a moment, but turned back to Sam.

“A bargain is a bargain.” It bounded over to the rubble of the treasure room, its tremendous claws rending stone, sending boulders spraying through the air as it dug.

“Now, where is it? It has to be somewhere- Ah-ha! There it is.”

Triumphantly, the dragon trotted back to them, its gait not dissimilar to an oversized house cat. It laid a small chest at Sam’s feet.

“There you are,” it said. “One ancient artifact of immeasurable power.” It snuffed. “According to legend, anyway.”

Sam opened the chest. The inside of the box was ornately decorated with pearls and ivory, and lined with red silk. At the center was a red pillow, on which the gray, shriveled hand of a man with twisted and gnarled fingers rested.

“Thank you!” Sam said, as she snapped the lid shut.

The dragon bowed. “I shall not forget the kindness you have done this day, Children of Kadmon.”

With a roar, the dragon leapt into the air. Its massive wings kicked up dust and dirt as it soared off into the sky, heading west, toward the Dragon Isles.

They watched it fly until it became only a distant speck. Charlie, Nate and Sam shared a satisfied smile. For once, they had done something actually good. Probably. It definitely felt good. They just hoped the dragon wasn’t of the eat-the-villagers-and-burn-everything-to-the-ground variety.

“Why didn’t you asked for a ride back to Whitespire?” Hag asked.

The smile disappeared from their faces.