Ayane sat in her place at Ghun’s side, strumming her harp as he held court. The great hall had changed much since his arrival, reshaped by magic, the simple geometric architecture transformed into something called Art Deco; big bold shapes, the only curves an illusion made up of overlaid panels. The columns were replaced with statues of men holding up the ceiling. The old throne had been given to Ayane; it was wooden and low to the ground, so she sat curled up to keep her legs out of the way. The new throne was a slab of basalt that Ghun lounged on as if it were a pile of cushions. Perhaps he could change its texture like Henry did, making it soft as a featherbed. Perhaps he didn’t need to. Looming over the throne was a massive statue of Ghun himself, hand raised in blessing. He was outlined in neon lights, and there was a halo of golden lights around his head. A pipe in his mouth blew neon smoke, to match the real smoke pouring from the real Ghun’s mouth.

The heavy smoke flowed like water down past Ayane’s feet, past the nightgaunts Ghun had chained to his throne. They were rubbery black monsters with wings and horns and spidery limbs; they didn’t need to breathe, as they had no faces, so they played in the smoke without fear, shaping it with their hands and making little figures. Ghun had assured Ayane they were quite harmless, as even the pointy bits were just like soft rubber.

Ghun’s idea of holding court was sitting on his throne while Ayane played, and then doing whatever he wanted. Sometimes he heard petitions from the locals, but mostly it was just entertainment for himself, which the castle denizens had to go along with. “I wish to see a fight,” he said suddenly. He snapped his fingers—it sounded like a boulder cracking in two—and pointed at a random page boy. “You, boy, go have Ordog brought up here.”

He straightened up. “Yes sire. Who shall he fight?”

“Maybe you,” said Ghun. “Go on, scoot.” He waved his hand and an invisible force pushed the boy in a straight line towards the servants’ door.

Just as he left, another page ran into the room. “Sire, a petitioner has arrived!” he said.

“I’m not hearing petitions today,” said Ghun, waving the servant away. He straightened suddenly, struck by an idea. “Wait, no. Bring them in. They shall fight Ordog.” He chuckled to himself, and the members of court joined in, all except Ayane, who kept playing on her harp. She winced inside, hoping it was just one of his jokes.

The page bowed and left, returning with Henry. He wore a blue robe, embroidered with subtle pink patterns, and some riding trousers; not the dwarven ones, but something more tailored. He had on a cloak of long, black vulture feathers that trailed to the floor, cinched around his neck with a silver pin. His outfit had been carefully designed to look high quality, but scuffed, as if he’d been on the road a while. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, so his eyes looked puffy, but his irises flashed with magical light that impressed the locals. His hands were sheathed in black leather gloves. A diamond flower sat in the middle of his forehead.

He looked gallant as he strode into the hall, the pageboy announcing him as Archmagus Hahn of Kar Haroun. Ayane knew he’d spent hours practicing not to squint without his glasses, and hours more practicing his walk. He’d looked like an awkward bird the first time he’d tried those clothes on.

“Hahn of Kar Haroun!” Ghun called. “Remarkable. Tell me, what brings you here?”

Henry put his hand over his heart and knelt. “I have heard of your power, great king, and wish to pledge my service. My own city fell to the darkness almost two years ago, and I have been wandering ever since.”

Ghun chuckled. “You can’t have been a very good archmagus if that’s the case.”

“The power that overcame Kar Haroun was beyond my strength. I knew I would have to be honest, my lord,” said Henry, voice dripping with feigned subservience. “Your wisdom would surely pierce through any lies or misdirections.”

“Surely,” Ghun agreed, leaning his great head on his palm. “Well Hahn, normally anyone looking for work would be sent to the refinery, and a former archmagus would be no exception. But I just so happen to be in a certain mood, so I shall make you a deal. I’ll take you on as my personal staff, my court magus if you will, so long as you win.”

Henry’s brow furrowed, just slightly. “Win, lord?”

Ghun let out an ominous giggle. The smoke dripping from his mouth formed into "ha ha ha"s before it fell apart.

Ayane's blood ran cold as her mind raced, trying to puzzle out how to help Henry without giving anything away.

Before she could think of anything, Ordog arrived. Three dwarves led him along by chains around his neck and arms, precious iron inscribed with sigils of strength by Ghun’s own hand. Ordog himself was a monster. On the inside yes, but his body was covered all over in scales of striped onyx and jadeite. His hands were meaty talons, big enough to crush a human skull. He had a long, thick tail like a crocodile, and his head consisted mostly of a fanged mouth and a single massive eyeball.

Before, he had acted like a king, keeping his madness and addiction under control. But now Ghun kept him chained like a beast, deprived of akanite except in carefully controlled doses. He stumbled like a drunk, then his eye zeroed in on Henry. He launched himself forward, roaring, almost jerking his chains out of the guards' hands.

Ghun waved his hand and the chains jerked back, slamming Ordog into the ground. "No one has ever beaten him before," Ghun said. “You don’t have to kill him, just last until I’m satisfied.” He wagged his finger. “Using magic, mind you. It would be no fun to just watch you run around.”

A local guard stepped up, hands shaking, holding a fireplace poker with a sponge impaled on the head. It was dripping red fluid that Ayane knew to be a mixture of akanite dissolved in alcohol. He held it to Ordog’s mouth, and he slurped it up, falling into a blissful stupor while the dwarves unchained him.

“And if I do kill him?” asked Henry.

Ghun let out an effete laugh. “I suppose…I shall give you my beloved daughter!” He gestured at Ayane. She choked and struck a sour note. The court erupted into laughter.

Before Henry could reply to that, Ordog recovered, and with an almighty roar, he fired a beam of burning green light from his eye. It sliced erratically across the throne room and the courtiers leapt for cover; Ghun had reinforced the walls against Ordog’s powers but there were no other protections in place. An unlucky man fell to the floor, writhing as his body was consumed by carnivorous plants.

Ayane resumed playing as she watched Henry, biting her lip, heart racing. The blast had gone so wide that Henry had plenty of time to react. Henry slid under the beam as it swept towards him, and it ran out of power shortly after. She was still worried. Ordog was a beast, and Henry was a sickly little waif. There was no magic like his in this world; molding earth would give him away instantly. He had to summon the T-Rex soon. His fake ajana was glowing faintly. It didn’t do anything besides glow when Henry used his powers, so she knew he was gathering strength for the summoning. He’d said he could do it in one minute, and Ayane and Braehar had had to take him at his word, as there was no room to practice in the palace. She wished they’d grabbed something weaker for him to practice with. Maybe a talking wolf.

Ordog leapt at Henry, but he rolled past him and Ordog sailed right overhead, slamming into the crowd. The panicked people shoved him back into the ring. He slashed at Henry with his claws, and just one hit would be the end of him, but Henry wouldn’t let himself get hit, wouldn’t let Ordog get close. Ayane hadn’t noticed before how fluid his movements were. Magi tended to have bodily enhancements, but somehow he was keeping up with Ordog all on his own merits.

The fake ajana was glowing brighter and brighter. But Ordog was fast, always keeping him on the backfoot. The green residue from his beam was still smoking, and Ayane almost shouted when Henry stepped too close to it. But he must have known it was dangerous from his book, as he stepped over it. Ayane released her held breath. How much longer would it take?

Ghun’s smoke reacted to the agitation in the room, swirling around the fighters’ feet, morphing into violent shapes, sometimes even grasping hands. Ordog’s eye began to glow, building up power itself. The smoke around Ayane’s feet began to form into huddled, hooded figures, as still and tense as objects made of smoke can be.

Henry reached down and scooped up a bit of smoke, throwing it in Ordog’s face. He stumbled back, clutching at his eye, then for a second or so he stood still, pacified by the trace particles of akanite.

Then, Henry struck. He raised his right hand and said an invocation. The words were correct, though they weren’t properly laden with power, as they would have been if he were a real summoner. But it didn’t matter, because what happened next would dispel any doubt.

A burst of pink light shot from Henry’s cupped hands, expanding and solidifying until it seemed like a great stone that almost brushed the series. The shape of a great bulbous head formed, and nubby little arms, and a tail as thick as a tree. Then the Tyrant Lizard King was made manifest in the center of the great hall. Courtiers screamed and ran from the hall, and even a few guards followed them as well. Even Ordog was shaken, taking a step back from the beast, as sober as Ayane had seen him in a year. For his part Ghun hooted and hollered in delight, clapping his hands like a child, and Ayane half-hoped that he would let Henry go for that alone. “Well go on then!” he shouted, pumping his fist. “Get to fighting!”

Ordog growled and fired his beam at the T-Rex. The green light cut a jagged furrow over its head, and where it cut, vines and mosses sprouted quickly, wriggling like cuttlefish. The T-Rex roared in pain and the sound shook the air and rattled the windows, but the wound was superficial. It recovered quickly and fired its own beam. Ordog was smote to the ground.

Incredibly, it didn’t kill him. After taking the hit, Ordog was left blackened and scorched, scales melted and cracked. Yet he still leapt to his feet, screaming like an animal, and ran. A pair of guards menaced him with spears, but he pushed through. Henry pointed. “Don’t let him get away,” he commanded.

The T-Rex took a single step and bent at the waist, its tail rising up like a huge counterweight, and clamped its jaws around Ordog’s torso. Then it reared back, snapping him down into his gullet as broken scales rained down onto the floor. The T-Rex roared again, this time in triumph.

“Bravo,” said Ghun, giving a slow applause as he rose from his throne. His eyelids opened slowly, the multicolored glow of his eyes shining out like the impression of eyelashes. “Now, Hahn accept your reward—”

His eyes snapped wide open, flashing a fiery amber as a beam of golden light burst out. Ayane jumped to her feet, toppling her harp, only able to watch in horror as the beam struck Henry.

He caught it in his cursed hand. The force of it almost bowled him over, but he resisted, holding on for some five seconds before Ghun let up. When it was over, his glove had turned to stone.

Ghun chortled. “I’m sorry about that, I just wanted to see how my dear little girl would react,” he turned his head back to her. “It seems we have a match.”

The court erupted into awkward laughter.

“Thank you, my liege,” said Henry, rubbing his petrified hand. “But—”

“Oh, I hope you didn’t need that for spellcasting,” said Ghun, with feigned concern. “Though it seemed to me that it was mostly just incantations and the such, am I right about that?” He swept out his arms and drew Henry into his embrace, somehow clearing the distance between them instantly without moving. “Come now my boy Hahn, I have much to show you.”

Henry didn’t pay any attention at all to the grand tour. He’d seen much of it before in his mind when reading Desert Reign and much of the rest in his time spent in hiding. Fortunately, Ghun attributed his silence to the petrification of his hand. The truth was, Henry had absorbed the magic from the bolt; it only succeeded at petrifying his glove. It was uncomfortable, but that hand would always be uncomfortable. Much more importantly, there was a war going on in his mind. Literally.

Henry had supposed that letting the T-Rex eat Ordog would result in absorbing Ordog when he dismissed the T-Rex. Henry had allowed it, hoping for a rush of power. And now, the copy of Ruby’s flat was a mess of violence as the T-Rex and Ordog fought, half-fused, each trying to absorb the other.

“Much as I love the medieval culture here, I do like to bring in my treasures from the modern world,” said Ghun. “A taste of home. That one’s called Pac-Man—”

Ghun was a problem too. He’d absorbed enough akanite that his magic was something like a nightmare as well, rising up from the floor of the dreamscape in Ghun’s shape. Just his shape, mind, a crude sketch picked out in amber colored lightning. It just sat there giggling as Henry wrangled the figments. He was trying to separate them, but it was a job of work, especially since he had to move about and try to mumble responses to Ghun’s banter. The T-Rex was stronger than Ordog, but it was savage, all but mindless. Ordog, meanwhile, was intelligent, not self aware enough to be a true figment, but getting there.

“—let the guards play with it as a reward sometimes.” The real Ghun was droning on.

Henry spread his arms in the mindscape and the two figments flew apart, essences tearing. He stepped up to Ordog and began to drain his energy with his ghostly hand. Their wills clashed against each other. What have you done to me, boy? he demanded. He rammed his talons into Henry’s chest. Ghun’s magic giggled, a sketch of fizzy amber light in the back of his mind. Henry felt some of his own energy draining out as Ordog’s memories slipped into his mind.

“But the real treasure is this hookah, I’d invite you to try but as a native you’re immune to—”

But Henry already knew everything about Ordog. There was nothing to him really, a shallow villain with a blustery personality. He had power, but that meant less and less compared to intellectual complexity the deeper you went into the Dreamlands. So Henry gathered his wits and raised his fist, and crushed Ordog flat in his palm, leaving him a collection of leaves like a book without a spine.

The T-Rex loomed over him, head tilted like a dog. Henry did the same to him. He carried them to the copy of his bedroom and placed them on his bookshelf, on opposite ends. The shelf transformed from dark wood into heavy iron, and he gave it a door of polished diamond that sealed with a huge lock.

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Ghun’s construct had followed him into the room. Its head was vibrating as it mouthed along to the real Ghun’s blather. “And you’ll not have seen this before, It’s a car,” said Ghun.

Henry slapped the construct down, crushing it into the floor until the magic integrated with his spirit.

“It’s a Ferrari, to be exact—”

His words slowed to a crawl, almost unintelligible, as Henry was drawn into something else—no, it was an incursion into his mind space, a doorway opening up into Leila’s cell once again. The cracks in her petrified body had spread even further. Slowly, excruciatingly, her head turned towards him.

“Leave me the fuck alone,” Henry muttered, trying hard to make sure that his real lips didn’t mouth the words.

Ordog and the T-Rex’s books opened, the pages fluttering, coming loose. “You can rest when you’re dead,” said Leila. Her head was mostly free now, save for some stone still caked on her jaw. “Are you trying to be quiet? What if I made you scream right now?”

Henry felt a force try to pry open his jaws. He tried to slam the doorway shut, but there was a sliver of an opening between them still. “Did you know that the brain controls the body?” she muttered, black ichor dripping from her mouth. “And dreams and nightmares can control the brain.” Her eyes flashed red, and the goop flew up like a dart. Henry zipped the aperture shut all the way, but not before the dart entered his mindscape. It took the form of a winged beast for a moment, like a bat crossed with a scorpion, before striking him in the chest.

Instantly, a wave of nausea forced Henry back to the real world.

“You look ill, Hahn,” said Ghun in a sing-songy voice.

Henry opened his mouth and threw up.

He’d been afraid that Ghun would take offense and slap his head off, or roll him in a blanket and smoke him like a cigar, but the tyrant had just laughed and had Henry sent to his new room. It was a small but breezy tower room that would be comfortable on Kar Zippar’s muggy days. He sat on the bed, really just a pile of cushions, and slid his hand out of the stone glove with a nasty wet pop.

The nightmare was gone; he’d destroyed it rather than trying to add to the collection. It was weak anyway, and he knew spells that could do something similar. Even so, Henry’s head was pounding and he was weak in the knees from the stress and the sickness.

The door opened and Ayane stood there, hands on her hips, with an inscrutable look on her face.

“Hello,” said Henry, waving his good arm.

“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded, closing the door. “You won me? In a fight? Like if I was a gilded rose or a fine scarf?!”

“I didn’t ask for that,” said Henry, rubbing his eyes. “I’m definitely not going to make you marry me if you don’t want to.”

“Well I don’t want to!” she snapped.

“Fine,” Henry snapped back. “I’m engaged anyway.”

Ayane choked. They locked eyes. “That’s…camel dung.”

“No,” Henry crossed his arms defensively. “Well, not really. It’s complicated.” He sighed. “My aunt really wants me to marry a girl from the Hei clan. We’ve corresponded. Never met in person.”

Ayane scoffed. “And why haven’t you mentioned this before?”

“Why should I have?” Henry muttered.

They locked eyes again. Ayane broke eye-contact first, storming over to the bedside and throwing cushions across the room. “You can have that spot tonight, since you look terrible. I suppose using all that magic ate you up?”

Henry coughed. “You’re staying here?”

“This is my room,” Ayane scoffed, straightening her skirt as she sat down on her cushions. “And besides, we’ve been sleeping together for months now, technically. Don’t get cold feet now.”

“True enough,” said Henry, rubbing the back of his neck. “No dreamwalking tonight though. I’m not in a good state right now.” He explained to her about the figments, and about Leila.

“She’s getting stronger then,” said Ayane, furrowing her brow.

“We’re connected too deeply for the wards to keep her out,” said Henry. “When I get stronger, she does too. She’ll get out soon. And she’ll come here.” He felt a pang for Fenetre. What would become of him when she escaped his mindscape?

“I suppose that means we move the plan up then,” said Ayane, and Henry nodded. “How’s your hand?” she asked.

He held up his metal hand. A twinge of amber light glittered in the palm. “I’m fine,” he said. “I’ll have to wear that stone glove from now on though.”

"Not for long," said Ayane.

"The time will pass quickly," said Henry.

And it did.

Over the next few days, Henry learned to assert his will over the T-Rex, who turned out to be male. Ghun named him Azhi. It wasn’t enough to simply parade the beast around. Ghun wanted Azhi to perform tricks, and he summoned blocks, spheres, and hoops of stone for him to play on. Henry had to figure out very quickly how to make a gigantic dinosaur balance on a rolling ball. There where quite a few blunders at first, but those amused Ghun as much as the successes, so it was fine.

Just when Henry was getting the hang of it, something changed. One day, in the early morning, Ghun personally collected both Ayane and Henry, and opened a portal in the wall. Henry kept his face still as he saw the secret room open up. The portal to San Francisco showed nothing but the early morning fog, with distant lights gleaming in the grayness and the sound of a buoy bell tolling once again.

The boat was gone. “I want you two to meet an associate of mine,” said Ghun, ushering them into the room. “He’s a fan.”

Henry’s blood went cold. He and Ayane looked at each other. She cleared her throat. “A-a fan, sire? I am going to marry Hahn, am I not?”

Ghun chuckled. “Oh of course. I wouldn’t dream of separating you, I saw how you made eyes at him during the battle with Ordog. Love at first sight, was it?” He winked, and she covered her face. “No, no, I wouldn’t come between true love. But if my associate is pleased to meet you and makes a good offer, I might let him borrow you both.”

Henry considered just attacking Ghun right now. But no, they couldn’t win without access to the sky. Or could he just hurl Ghun into the sea? No, no, he was much too big, much too heavy. Stick to the plan.

It was just a few minutes more, though it felt much longer, when the boat appeared, puttering through the portal. The dwarf manning the controls cut the engine, and another one tied a line around the single metal cleat. Not a second after, the man in the back seat stood up.

He was young, no older than twenty, and his neatly brushed black hair hung down to his neck. It made the tattoos on his neck and the back of his hands stand out. The stranger was tall, Chinese, and was wearing a sharp black suit and sunglasses. Henry wondered why he needed those in the fog.

Ghun called out, “Bèng-dá!” As the man hopped off the boat, he went on, “Ayane, Hahn, this is Bèng-dá Hei, of the Hei crime family, some of my favorite clients. He’s a big fan of your story!”

Bèng-dá grunted, looking over his sunglasses. His eyes were black, without iris or sclera. “Dude what the fuck, she’s like fourteen.”

“Sixteen,” Ayane muttered.

“Oh? I can’t tell human ages,” Ghun chuckled.

“I thought you got here in the middle of the story, but this was like, ‘the first five chapters of part one’ era,” he scoffed. Pointing at Henry, he said, “and who the fuck is Hahn? I don’t remember a Hahn.”

Henry considered attacking Bèng-dá. He could probably kill him. “He’s Ayane’s love interest,” said Ghun.

“No he ain’t,” Bèng-dá snapped. “Where’s Ramades?”

Again, Ghun laughed. “You wouldn’t believe that if you saw how these two are together. As for Ramades, I think there was someone by that name who perished, was that right, Ayane?”

“Yes,” she muttered, looking down at her feet.

“Seriously, what the hell? I don't remember you at all,” said Bèng-dá, rolling his eyes before fixing his sunglasses. “I guess if you change shit this early in the story some no-name background character can score the main girl.” He grabbed Henry’s head and moved it around, as if looking for some identifying mark. Henry jumped back. Bèng-dá scoffed. “At least it’s not that bitch Clody.”

Henry would normally agree but he decided he would defend Clody against Bèng-dá on principle. He straightened his back, clenched his good fist, and said, “Clody is a fine court jester, and a good friend.” Of course, lying through his teeth.

Bèng-dá choked laughing. “No they ain’t.” He clapped his hands and looked up at Ghun. “Alright, I don’t want them ‘cause they’re fuckin babies, but I think my kid brother would get a kick out of them. There’s a dance coming up, he can pretend to have a girlfriend. And a boyfriend too if he’s into that, I dunno.”

“Delightful! You two can go now then.” Ghun waved them off.

Hesitantly, Henry backed through the portal, and Ayane followed after. It closed, leaving them alone in the great hall.

“Henry,” Ayane began. “Is Hei a terribly common name?”

“No,” said Henry.

“He’s from the clan you’re going to marry into, Henry,” she hissed..

“Yeah,” said Henry.

“Have you met him before?” she asked. “Is the clan very big?”

“Representatives of the Heis have come to meet with my aunt for business reasons,” said Henry. “I think he’s one of them. But I only ever saw him years ago.” He cleared his throat. “I think I mentioned playing with his little brother, Kevin. He was there. But I’ve changed a lot since then, physically. It was before puberty. I doubt he remembers me.”

Ayane rubbed her temples. “That’s just perfect. And, hold on, your aunt trades in drugs?”

“No, she buys their ink,” said Henry. “They make magical ink—look, it doesn’t matter. The point is he’s seen me before. There’s no way he recognized me just now but I have to be careful around him.”

Ayane sighed. “We’re moving the plan up then. We have to do it before he takes us away.”

Henry replied with only a nod.

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Much as the plan needed to be moved up, there was something they needed to put off as much as possible; the wedding. Ghun wanted to hold the ceremony as soon as possible, but Ayane gave him a laundry list of reasons why the wedding couldn't be held immediately. He nodded along and agreed. For whatever reason, he tended to respect her wishes if she provided some cultural reason. She had no doubt that it was because he saw it as quaint, or even cute. Bèng-dá gave her a sidelong glance over it, but said nothing.

As a result, she spent the nights away from Henry, meditating in the bridal grotto outside the palace. It was meant to be done in seclusion, but Clody would often come and sulk nearby, letting out loud conspicuous sighs. "It's all just part of the ruse," Ayane assured them. And they would just nod forlornly and sigh again.

What she was actually doing was gathering power in her ajana. It was easier to call upon now that she knew the world was a dream, drawing energy from the stones and the grass and the water. It was all one substance.

During the days Ayane was still expected to perform her duties, but it was no issue; since becoming a figment she no longer had any need to sleep. Henry had been worried Bèng-dá would point out that there was nothing like a dinosaur in Desert Reign’s setting, but he said nothing, just lounging in a cushioned chair, a mask over his mouth to block out Ghun’s smoke. Perhaps he assumed Azhi had been a gift. However, Bèng-dá was less easily amused than Ghun. He wasn’t always present at court, as he was working on some inscrutable business endeavor in and around the castle. But Ghun insisted he be present several times, and was seated at Ghun’s right hand, opposite Ayane. And he was bored.

----------------------------------------

At the beginning of the second week, Ghun finally took notice. “Bring forth a prisoner!” he shouted, slamming his fist into the armrest of his throne with a stony crack.

Henry’s blood ran cold. “A prisoner sire?”

“Yes, to feed to Azhi,” he said, snapping his fingers at a pair of guards. “Go, go! We will have bloodsport! Will that please you, my guest?”

Before Bèng-dá could reply, Henry cut in with, “that’s hardly a spectacle worthy of his power.”

“Don’t you dare question me,” said Ghun, a sudden edge to his voice. Once again Ayane skipped a note.

Henry cleared his throat. “But why not have Azhi fight a big animal, or some monster or beast?”

“Hell yeah,” said Bèng-dá. “Like a kaiju battle.”

Ghun hummed, rubbing his chin. “Yes, perhaps that would be fun. Very well.” he snapped his fingers yet again, and this time the chains around his nightgaunts’ necks fell off with a crack.

“Go on now, shoo,” he said, kicking one off his dais. Another he picked up and hurled it like a shot put, striking Azhi’s face. Before Henry could think, Azhi snapped it up into his mouth. The third one scampered off into the smoke.

Bèng-dá booed. “Boring. These things are hardly kaiju.”

Ghun clapped his hands and pulled them apart, a web of golden light dancing between his fingers for a moment, before he flung it at one of the nightgaunts. Its flesh hardened into stone. But then, cracks formed at the joints, leaking golden light, and it grew to a towering size. He repeated the process for the other one.

“Shit,” Henry muttered. The nightgaunts stalked toward Azhi.

“Put on something exciting, Ayane!” Ghun shouted. Without skipping a beat, she transitioned into a more adventurous tune.

The first nightgaunt rammed its head into Azhi’s stomach. Azhi’s little hands instinctively lashed out, trying to gouge its eyes, succeeding only at scraping amber blood from the cracks on its face.

The other one came around from the side, and Azhi slammed his tail into its side, in the same motion tearing free of the other nightgaunt. He lowered his head, slamming it into the second nightgaunt’s hard enough to push it back almost to the throne. Now with some proper distance between them Azhi roared, and began to build up his dragon’s breath.

The closest nightgaunt leaped into the air, flapping its wings heavily to gain a bit of height, slamming down on Azhi’s head with his full weight. This was a mistake. Henry jerked Azhi’s head up just in time. He blasted a stream of power at point blank range, drilling through the nightgaunt’s core and into the ceiling. The red sun shone on Azhi like a spotlight as he roared in triumph.

“One down!” Ghun shouted, clapping his hands in delight.

Bèng-dá growled. “Nightgaunts ain’t shit. This fight’s over.”

“By all means, try to make it more interesting,” Ghun gestured at the remaining nightgaunt.

Bèng-dá stood up, rolling up his sleeves, exposing the dragon tattoo that snaked from one arm to the other. The ink lifted up from his skin, sliding across the ground and growing in size, going from black to a scintillating rainbow palette. It coiled around the nightgaunt, melting into its skin, and it began to change yet again, sprouting a reptilian face.

The nightgaunt roared in Azhi’s face, spraying him with flecks of glowing, multicolored spittle. Azhi lunged, mouth wide open, clamping his mouth down on the nightgaunt’s neck. The titanic force of his jaws crunched through its outer layer of armor. The nightgaunt bit back, its head snaking around Azhi’s body on a suddenly stretching neck, digging its teeth into his stomach. Henry swore as it tore into Azhi, rending his flesh off in chunks. Azhi groaned in pain but Henry directed him to hold on, building up his breath even as he was being eaten.

Then, he released it. The nightgaunt exploded and Azhi was knocked flat, his front half scorched black. Half-panicked, Henry dispersed Azhi and summoned him back into his mindspace.

“Bravo, bravo Hahn!” said Ghun, clapping once again.

“It’s a tie,” said Bèng-dá, rubbing his arms as if they stung. The image of a dragon slowly started to fill in in multicolored shades, but it was so faded that it was clear it would take a while.

“But Hahn’s team faced overwhelming odds,” said Ghun.

Henry grunted in response. He had split his attention, trying to repair Azhi’s book. It was half-burnt and random black pages were strewn through it; fragments of the nightgaunts it had partially consumed.

“Of course,” Ghun drawled, “now that my precious Azhi is out of the picture, what do I need to keep you around for, Hahn?”

A moment later, when it registered, Henry choked.

“He can heal Azhi,” Ayane called out quickly.

“That’s right,” Henry nodded along.

“Oh?” Ghun tilted his head. “And how long will that take?”

A week. “A few days,” said Henry. “Faster if I get my hands on certain materials.”

“Excellent!” said Ghun. “Bèng-dá, hurt him.”

Henry’s vision went dark.