The first thing Peacock noticed when he woke up was how the cave didn’t look any smaller. A jolt ran through him. Had he grown at all?

He craned his neck back to see his body. Oh.

The familiar blue, green, and purple gradient in his scales had vanished. In its place, matte bluish black, closely knit scales ran the length of his body, a body that had grown longer and thinner. His tail had turned whiplike, running as long as the rest of his body.

Peacock stood and flexed his new tail. It moved with precision, twisting and curling with the dexterity of a hand.

I have a prehensile tail. Peacock grinned. That could come in handy.

His legs had grown thinner as well, and a bit taller, with slender-fingered hands and feet tipped with short, silver claws. Peacock shifted his weight, plucked a coin from his nest with a foot, then let it fall. He’d gone to sleep with two hands and woken up with four.

Now, not really getting bigger made sense.

Like the artifact orb, his molt must have taken into account his abilities and actions. He’d been streamlined for stealth and stealing.

Excellent. Peacock grinned again, a chill of excitement running down his spine.

Something twitched against his sides. Peacock’s eyes snapped to the spot and froze. His upper back bulged strangely, with small dips and ridges running down its length. It didn’t look like muscle.

Peacock homed in on the area, willing it to move. The bulge moved, extending out an inch before snapping back in place without a sound. Realization edged its way into the back of Peacock’s mind. He urged the bulge to move again, concentrating with all his might to prevent it from closing.

Slowly, a broad, bat-like wing stretched to its full length. A light shift in concentration, and another wing extended out on the other side. Together, they ran two full body lengths.

“Whoa, is that you, Peacock?”

Peacock jumped, his wings closing with a dull thwump.

Ferret scrambled out of his fur burrito, eyes wide. “That is you, right?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s me.” His voice came out light and silken. Peacock smiled sheepishly at Ferret. “Although I guess it’s kind of hard to believe, huh?”

The surprise left Ferret’s eyes as he finished untangling himself from his covers. “Eh, you don’t look and sound anything like you did yesterday, but the fact you’ve not eaten me or burned me to a crisp tells me all I need to know.”

Peacock returned to furling and unfurling his wings, something nagging at the back of his mind. “Are all dragons that bad?” Nex and Viseral certainly had been, but he couldn’t imagine Oncian, Cavua, Arianrhod or Alainn ever attacking someone for fun.

“Didn’t used to be that way. Just a handful of characters ago, there were cities that had Patron Dragons. Being uber strong, dragons usually live a lot longer than the other races, except maybe the Monoceros. They can also accomplish things other races can’t. Patrons did these things for the people in their cities and helped protect them from the dragons that just wanted to pillage and kill.”

“So, there were both kinds.”

“And lots in the middle. Dragon characters are capable of so much more, but they’re still players behind the avatars, and players will always follow different paths.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Except they don’t anymore.”

“Right.” Ferret chewed his lip, shifting his weight foot-to-foot. “The murder hobo dragons all banded together. The Patrons died first, then every other dragon not on the murderers’ side. Sometimes wars happen, but the defeated players are reborn, and it all evens out in the end. Admins might get involved if things get too nasty. This time, neither happened. Instead, the admin centers went dead, and any dragon not interested in slaughter just stopped popping up. Except for you, of course.”

Peacock grimaced. Zenith Flight had attempted to make sure he didn’t pop up again, too.

Ferret gave Peacock a long look, a sure sign he expected Peacock to fill him in on this anomaly, but as every time before, he stayed silent. The less who knew about his escape, the better.

Ferret sighed and continued. “Then, recently, players of other races started disappearing, too.”

Peacock flinched at the memory of corpses that didn’t disintegrate. “Maybe the other dragons are holding them hostage.”

“At first, definitely. Most of the Rebirths were seen getting kidnapped by dragons. But none of them have come back. Sometimes prisoners die, or off themselves, or escape, yeah? So how come no one’s been reborn to tell the tale? Better yet, how come the admins haven’t stormed the server and put an end to all of it?” Ferret looked at Peacock with sad, round eyes.

Peacock’s resolve faltered. Maybe he should share what he knew. Give the poor guy something to go on.

Cormac appeared from deeper in the cave, killing the thought in an instant. His eyes grew wide in surprise for a second before his typical calm, friendly, and fake face descended into place. “Ah, I see your molt was kind to us.” He closed the distance between them and circled like a vulture. “I have never seen a thief build dragon before. I can’t say it’s unpleasant.”

Peacock’s skin crawled under Cormac’s appraisal. He was a shiny new tool to him, and he could hear the gears grinding in Cormac’s head as he came up with new ways to use him.

“Yes, yes… four opposable thumbs, slender, easily concealed body.” He stopped, tapping his chin. “Color is good for deep shadow and night, less good for broad daylight or open areas. I’m sure your new stat and skill caps will help with that. Did your molt unlock any new abilities, by chance?”

Cormac’s left eyebrow rose as he asked, making Peacock even less inclined to tell him anything. On the other hand, he didn’t know. He’d been so wrapped up in admiring his new look, he hadn’t got around to opening his UI. “I’m not sure. Haven’t looked yet.”

A flash of annoyance crossed Cormac’s face. “Then do so, Shade. I can’t give you a proper assignment without knowing what you’re capable of.”

Peacock narrowed his eyes. Where was the raging Faefolk from the day before, and why wasn’t he still harping on his mistake?

Cormac flashed him another fake grin. “Well, go on, then.”

Peacock glanced at Ferret. Ferret shrugged, but his hands slipped toward his daggers. Confident that if Cormac tried anything funny, he’d have a raging Smallfolk on his back, Pecock opened his UI.

LEVEL: 20 XP: 0 (40,000)

HEALTH: 265 ESSENCE: 250

AGILITY: 55 MANA: 53

STRENGTH: 54 FOCUS: 56

It seemed he’d received an extra stat boost for the molt. Peacock flipped to his Abilities tab, taking a moment to appreciate the fact he’d unlocked fourteen abilities before focusing in on his new ones.

Flight - Level 1

Airborne movement of up to 40mph. Higher levels equal longer flight distances before getting tired.

Darkness Attuned

You’re more at home in the darkness, the darker the better. Flight speed, agility, flight distance and ground movement speed are all increased when your surroundings are dark. Bonuses increase as light decreases.

A thrill passed through Peacock. Flying and dragons were practically synonymous. Without it, they might as well be magical dinosaurs. Fun, but not as fun.

Peacock closed his UI, a grin plastered on his face. To his surprise, Cormac hadn’t moved or changed his expression.

“Other than the obvious,” Peacock flexed his wings, “it looks like I get bonuses for being in dark areas.”

Cormac’s eyes lit up. “Is that so? Looks like I picked right when I named you Shade.”

Peacock glowered at him. “That’s not my name.”

“Do your bonuses activate according to ambient light alone,” Cormac continued unabated. “Or does it have to be at night?”

“Ambient, I think.”

“Read me the description.”

“It’s ambient.” Peacock locked eyes with Cormac and growled.

Familiar annoyance flickered on Cormac’s face. “Very well. Let’s have a demonstration. If it works as you say, I have an ability and a job guaranteed to make me forget yesterday’s blunder, especially if you keep up those impressive escape skills.”

Ah, of course. Peacock should have seen the dollar signs in Cormac’s eyes. As long as his value as a tool remained greater than his cost, Cormac would forgive anything. But what would happen when that was no longer the case?