Someone gasped quietly in the sudden silence. Kyle had been too preoccupied with his internal musings to realize that conversation around him had stopped. Not just his sister, Jones, and that other chick that worked with his sister. Oh, yeah, Alex. No. Not just them. Everyone in the observation room.

“ahem.” Someone cleared their voice behind him as the Warlock of the Archivist focused intently on the activity below them. It took a second pointed “Ahem.” Followed by his sister calling out to him impatiently.

“Kyle.” A shoe hit him in the back, and he turned around, put upon.

“Well, that’s hardly professional.” His confused scowl was entirely genuine. Sam looked up to the ceiling making an exasperated gesture and mouthing ‘really God’.

“You just kind of dropped a bomb on us.” The blank look on his face spoke volumes about his thought process. Or more accurately the fact that he didn’t think he was the only one who’d come to that particular conclusion.

“What?” Alex and Jones narrowed their eyes at Kyle then glanced at one another as if to telepathically say ‘is this guy for real’. Of course, neither had telepathic powers, they just felt that maybe, Kyle was pulling one over on them.

“Do you care to elaborate, Mister Wattkins.” One of the guys in lab coats observing questioned him politely before Sam could tear into her brother. “Perhaps share your insight as a representative of the museum?” Kyle sighed. It had been said so politely but it was clear that a few of the other observers thought that he was being over cautious in recommending no magic use on or around the corpse now that the arcanes had been contained.

“Something killed that dragon while it was inside the moving truck. Right? That’s why it’s all squished up like it is and bursting out of the vehicle.” Like he normally did when explaining things, he’d taken on his lecturer voice and started gesturing with his hands for emphasis.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean that whatever killed it is in the van with it.” Someone protested disdainfully. Not the guy who had politely but sort of condescendingly asked for clarification.

“While that could be true,” Kyle asserted confidently, “it’s not. Think about what we know.” He began pacing as he spoke, too energized by the theory and his need to see if he was right to keep still while discussing it. “The little dragon in the van died, most of its magic was sucked out of it. Enough to kill it almost instantly so it wasn’t able to flee. We know it transformed upon death and reverted back to its natural form because New York city doesn’t have a high enough AMD normally to support a dragon in its natural form. It’s kept that way on purpose with the magic collectors.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Here, he paused, as a new thought occurred to him. Had the overwhelming of the magic collectors been deliberate? Had the goal been to make New York safe for a dragon to rampage? No. No. He shook his head in denial. That wasn’t it. The pause had been only momentary, and he continued quickly.

“Something sucked the magic out of the first dragon, killing it instantly. Then that accumulated magic was released almost instantly also from whatever holding container or artifact had stolen it. The explosive wave sent the second dragon flying through a building while still in human form.” His sister had been listening avidly and pitched in here.

“You’re right about that. It had to have still been in a smaller form because the hole in the building wasn’t large enough for the corpse that was inside.” She shuddered as the memory of – everything – tried to assert itself into her conscious mind.

“Exactly!” Spinning, Kyle pointed to his sister excitedly, now that he had others thinking along the same lines as him. “The wave of energy crippled the larger dragon and sent it flying. It died in the building. Its magical structure weakened and its arcanes leeching off faster than they should have. Because even for two dragon corpses, the city being instantly flooded in Prometheus Purple and Pink levels? That’s not natural.”

“It should have taken hours or even days.” One of the lab coats stated as he thought it out. And Kyle wondered why he was the only one in the room who had come to this conclusion. “This wasn’t an attack.”

“Not on New York.” Kyle clarified. “Not intentionally. But I think that whatever happened was intended to kill those dragons. And they were after whatever it was that did it.”

“Someone intentionally killed two dragons on U.S. soil.” Alex finally pipped up. “So, we’ve got dragon hunters? Great.”

“No.” Jones corrected her before Kyle could. “No. The dragons were after whatever was in the van. They weren’t fleeing. Because why would one be outside and the other inside? Why would the one inside die first and the one outside not only die second but retain more of its destabilized magic?”

It was always gratifying to Kyle when someone understood a lesson without him having to spoon feed the explanation to them. Jones was a smart guy and Kyle was happy to have been partnered with him for this task.

“There’s something in that truck that can kill dragons. And the dragons were after it.” Suddenly the other observers were keener on the goings on of the refrigerated and magically insulated warehouse beyond the observation window. Alex was quick too, but Sam was the one who hit the nail on the head as she spoke up next.

“Unregistered, undocumented dragons.” She thought for a few moments about that. “No one’s been able to identify either of them.”

“So, where did they come from? How did they get into New York? How did they find out about whatever it was that they were after?” A grim and unfriendly smile curved up the corners of Kyle’s mouth. It was a puzzle. A mystery. Possibly even a conspiracy. Something that would make or break a young warlock’s career.

Why did this have to be his first artifact?