One’s own room. The evils of naptha addiction. The dragon and the mouse. A direct order. A good sense of smell.

Theovanni returned, along with Fabrizio, who was helping the dragonrider carry his trunk along with several bags and backpacks.

It was a surprise to see the Ponti.

Sal left his diner, the only place lit among the dark buildings of Champion Plaza. He stood out in front. The night felt sweltering after leaving his cool café. “Fabrizio! Do you know our fine Master Balanacci?”

The handsome young priest grinned. “I didn’t until I saw him struggling with all of his stuff. Then we chatted, and I found out he was your friend, so I thought I’d help him carry all this stuff. I wanted to check on you anyway. First day! How did it go?”

Sal wasn’t sure he’d considered Theo a friend just yet, though Fabrizio was doubtless his best friend, outside of the mouse in his pocket. “The day went well, but most of that was thanks to this intrepid young man and his fearsome drake.”

Sparky squawked, as if he liked the sound of that. How smart was that dragon?

Betty shifted around in Sal’s pocket, probably uncomfortable about the presence of the predator.

Theo shrugged. “Oh, just doing my bit for the cause. The food was so good, especially the orange juice. And don’t get me started on the lemonease! By my goat, I could drink a barrel of that stuff.”

“The sweet or the salty?” Fabrizio asked.

“Both!” the kid said exuberantly.

“Come inside. Let me show you your room!” Sal then brought both the dragonrider and the priest up the steps and into the second room, where the ladder led to the attic.

Theo set his trunk down at the feet of one of the bunk beds.

He turned, tears in his eyes. “Oh my goat, sir, this place, it’s amazing. It’s so big, and I get my own room, which is nice, believe me, since I’ve had my own room before. But anyway. O.M.G!”

Fabrizio didn’t say anything, but he had his hand over his nose.

The stink was exceptionally strong.

Sal felt his heart soften. “O.M.G. As in oh my goat. Do not worry, Ponti, for the lad has not blasphemed. Far from it.”

The kid’s tears of gratitude were getting to the former Dark Lord. Theo was so young, and so fragile, it seemed, despite the armor, sword, and baby dragon. “You are very welcome to stay, Theo. How did Kaixo take it?”

Theo sniffed and wiped at the tears that hadn’t fallen. “Oh, she hardly noticed me, you know, with the naptha incense, and her studying, but I did get her to eat a bit of flat bread, with olive oil, no butter. She says the dairy hurts her magic.”

“You say, she hardly noticed you were leaving?” Sal shook his head, a bad feeling in his belly. “Does she know you are moving in here?”

“Yeah, but she didn’t get all goat-y about it. In fact, she said it was for the best. And she’d visit me. She even promised to eat.”

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

Sal wasn’t sure how to take it.

But a second later, Sparky flew about the room, landed on Sal’s shoulder, and was about to thrust his beak into his shirt pocket, when Sal’s Youngin Reflexes kicked in. He deftly unseated the dragon and gently tossed it away, before dancing back against the door.

“Sparky! Don’t be rude!” Theo then spoke a word, and the dragon flew back to his hand, squawking and squealing.

Sal pulled Betty out of his pocket. “Theo, this is Betty, and please, if your dragon is wont to eat rodents, it would be a pity, and it might be a problem. Can your beast leash his more culinary urges?”

The dragon burped smoke, eyes on Betty.

Theo was pale, eyes round, mouth hanging open in shock. “A mouse in your pocket? That’s twelve goats of awesome. It’s like a storybook!”

“That’s what I said!” Fabrizio spouted.

More goat talk? Sal had no idea why there was so much goat talk.

Betty turned and gave Sal a long look. It was mostly annoyance, with a little dash of fear thrown in.

“Your dragon cannot devour my mouse friend,” Sal said firmly. “Can we agree on that?”

Sparky’s eyes never left Betty.

Until Theo held the little creature in both hands, and then said a word that filled the room. Theo’s eyes blazed with actual fire as his whole visage darkened with some unnamable power. He spoke in a harsh language, and Sparky didn’t squawk, scarcely breathed, as the pair gazed into each other’s eyes.

The fire left Theo’s eyes, and his face returned to normal. “Okay, I made it clear that your mouse was off limits. Actually, since we’re both living above an actual café, I made it clear that he shouldn’t eat any kind of rodent at all, mouse or rat or anything. It’ll be better that way. Good ol’ Spark is smart, but you know, a hungry dragon has trouble thinking, or so the saying goes.”

Sparky wrestled free of Theo’s hands, went flying around the room, and then shot down the steps.

Theo grinned. “I told him to find what’s stinking so bad. I think he’s on to something!”

Sal stuck Betty back into his pocket, and she stood on her hind legs, gripping the edge of his pocket with her tiny pink claws.

Fabrizio bustled out of the room. “This is so exciting. I brought my candles and book and anti-ghost stuff. Sorry, Shivaun, not that I’m prejudiced against ghosts!”

“Who is Shivaun?” Theo asked.

Sal sighed. “She is our resident banshee, which I believed we discussed. But let us see what your dragon might have sussed out, concerning the stench that threatens this enterprise. Oh, and I would be remiss if I did not warn you that the trunk in front of that bed has a poison needle trap. Best to only deal with your own trunk.”

“Thank you for the warning, sir,” the kid said.

They left the room and hurried down the steps.

Fabrizio was pointing to the back kitchen. “Sparky went down into the basement. I was going to follow, but, well, my courage failed. Ghosts are one thing. Basements are another. And oh boy, ghosts in basements are the worst!”

Sal then realized where the smell might be coming from. He’d forgotten all about the subbasement. He went into the kitchen, quickly lit a candle, and started down the steps. He found Sparky sniffing around the trapdoor. He then squawked at Sal before flying around Sal and up to a shelf.

He stayed there, sitting atop where Sal had stored all of the armor, weapons, and gear of the dead climbers.

Betty grunted in disapproval. “Not sure about that dragon sorcery, pal, but I ain’t never gonna trust Mr. Squawky Scales any. Now, this next part might be a tad dangerous. Our Ponti ain’t wrong. Ghosts in basements are bad. Ghosts in subbasements? Probably a lot worse.”

Sparky made some trilling noises in his throat, and they kind of sounded like he wanted to make peace with Betty, maybe, now that he knew she could talk.

Sal lifted the trapdoor, and his candle was immediately blown out.

A second later, Sparky flew down next to him, and breathed out just a little finger of fire. It was enough to relight the candle.

“Thank you, my good beast,” Sal said.

More trilling from the pigeon dragon.

Sal saw an old ladder going down into the darkness. Even as a former Dark Lord, it looked ominous, and most likely, a trap.

With the trapdoor open, Sparky flew down there, and then breathed out some more flames, showing there was a shadowy corridor below.

Fabrizio called down from the top of the steps. “Sal? You okay down there?”

“I am going to descend into the subbasement. I believe Sparky endeavors to continue to aid me in this quest.”

He heard Theo laughing. “That’s a dozen goats of vocabulary right there. Me and Sparky are just glad we can help, sir!”

“You are helping!” Sal said. “And here I go.”