I am Ren Drakemore, age 8, the 2nd Prince of the Kingdom of Arcadia, and my life may depend on me not offending an ancient dragon.

  The kobold elders remain behind, watching silently from the entrance to the dragon's lair. Jade escorts me across one of the narrow stone walkways, leading me to a raised platform in the center of the vast cavern. Between the bridges that connect to the central island are sheer drops into a dark, yawning abyss. Overhead, the ceiling is so high that not even my Night Sight can pierce it's endless darkness.

  The last time Shadow stood here, the central dais—its basin overflowing with gold and treasure—had been empty.

  This time, the moment I enter the cavern, she is there.

  The massive beast lies coiled atop her hoard, scales as black as night, glowing red eyes locked on me as I approach. She rises slowly, stretching her wings with a low rustle that sends a gust of wind rolling over me before she folds them neatly against her back.

  Enormous claws, each longer than my entire body, curl over the edge of the basin as she perches like a bird nesting atop her treasure. With each slow breath, steam drifts from her nostrils and coils into the air. She shifts her weight, and the soft cascade of clinking coins joins our footsteps, both sounds echoing through the silent chamber.

  The closer I get to the dragon, the warmer the air becomes, and I catch the faint scent of ash.

  We stop at the edge of the platform, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. Beside me, Jade bows deeply on all fours, her snout nearly touching the stone. Her tail coils tightly around her legs, as though trying to make herself as small and unthreatening as possible. I bow respectfully as well but only slightly, while keeping my eyes on the dragon. Averting my gaze would show weakness, or so I've read.

  Though how much negotiation tactics written for humans apply to dealing with a dragon is questionable.

  The weight of her presence is like a millstone around my neck. The air hums with the raw force of her mana, making my skin tingle and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  "A stench clings to you, little prince," the dragon accuses, her voice a rumbling thunder rolling through the cavern. "It is an offensive odor I know far too well."

  She exhales slowly, steam jetting outward from her nostrils and her gaze sharpens with recognition.

  "Reveal yourself, Fae."

  I freeze, my eyes widening.

  Can she sense her?

  "I meant no disrespect, your Greatness," comes Willow’s voice to my left—higher-pitched but unmistakably hers.

  I whip my head around and stare in disbelief. A kobold now kneels beside me, her scales pure white and gleaming like polished pearls. She hadn’t been there a second ago, and yet now she is—bowing with silent grace. Her flowing robes shimmer like freshly fallen snow, and when she rises from her bow to face the dragon, I see the same bright, serene blue eyes I’ve always known.

  Willow.

  I’ve only ever seen her in human or spirit form. This new shape—so seamlessly assumed—is jarring. Can she always take on any form so perfectly? Why choose a kobold?

  She’s… small. And oddly adorable like this.

  "Your Majesty, you honor me with your notice," Willow says gently.

  The dragon snorts, a puff of smoke bursting from her nostrils.

  “Spare me your courtesies, charlatan,” she snarls. A pulse of magical pressure bursts from her words like a shockwave. Jade trembles, still bowed low to the stone. I feel it crash against me too, but my protective enchantments hold.

  Willow, of course, stands serenely unaffected.

  "Please forgive her," I say quickly, finding my voice again. "She is both my caretaker and my teacher."

  "Her presence is required for what I intend to offer you," I add, quickly improvising a reason to justify her continued presence.

  Tiamat’s glowing eyes flick toward me, her expression shifting from suspicion to intrigue. From the corner of my eye, I see Willow smile with subtle approval.

  “She’s your caretaker, you say?” Tiamat laughs, the sound booming so forcefully it shakes the stone beneath my feet and reverberates through my chest. I hear Jade whimper in terror as loose rocks clatter down from the endless void above.

  “What a joke,” she scoffs.

  "A leech on your neck would care for you infinitely more than a fae could even comprehend. they feed on mortals like you. That’s all they are. Insatiable hunger."

  She narrows her gaze at Willow, who responds only with a peaceful smile.

  "With respect, Queen dragon," I say, unable to help myself, "Lady Willow has cared for me as a mother would."

  The words escape before I can stop them.

  Tiamat turns toward me with a grin far too wide and filled with far too many teeth to be considered friendly.

  "I pity you, little one," she mocks. "You are but a favored fly in her web; livestock to be husbanded, prey to be consumed. The fae know nothing of love, nor compassion, nor generosity. Certainly nothing of motherhood."

  She lets out a low, rumbling laugh.

  "She’s raising you the way a wolf raises a rabbit."

  Her laughter echoes throughout the cavern, sharp and cruel.

  I bite back the retort burning in my throat. I can’t afford to argue with her. Not over this. Let her believe whatever she wants, my mission here is too important. Defending Willow’s honor won’t get me the trade deal I need. I glance at Willow again. Her expression remains calm, almost amused. I’ll take my cue from her.

  Breathe. Stay composed. Stay focused.

  The dragon finishes her laugh and settles back down atop her mountain of gold, reclining with a satisfied huff as she crosses her forearms. The shift in her massive weight sends a fresh cascade of coins clinking and sliding down the side of the hoard like a golden waterfall.

  “All the more reason I must demand that you teach me the magic you used to create that golem named Shadow,” she says, her tone shifting to something more businesslike.

  She smirks. “Before your caretaker collects her payment from you.”

  “Before I do,” I say, keeping my tone respectful, “may I ask your name, great dragon?”

  “I am Tiamat, daughter of the Dragon God,” she proclaims, lifting her head proudly.

  Daughter of the Dragon God who died over five hundred years ago? I wonder silently.

  “I would be honored to teach you that spell,” I begin, launching into the pitch I’d practiced, “and I can offer you more. You will have access to the combined magical knowledge of myself, a five-thousand-year-old fae, and the full arcane library of the Arcadian Academy of Magic.”

  Tiamat leans forward slightly, one brow arching as her interest sharpens. She tries to hide it, but I can see it, my offer has landed. She wants what I have offered like a man dying of thirst wants a drink.

  “Is that so…” she muses.

  “Yes,” I say, reaching for Willow’s enchanted bag of holding I have slung over my shoulder and bringing it around to my front. “And I have something else you may find valuable.”

  I open the bag and bring out a few samples of the healing and curing potions I brought to trade. The light catches on their green and yellow colored liquids as I place them on the stone platform at my feet.

  “I’ve brought three hundred healing potions and fifty curing potions to offer in trade. In exchange for sharing our magical knowledge, all I ask is that you allow your kobolds to trade their excess mithril with the nearby human settlement of Stonebrook.”

  Tiamat narrows her eyes slightly. “Trade with humans?” she says, her voice laced with skepticism. “That would mean revealing ourselves.”

  “Queen Tiamat, I understand your desire for secrecy, and I respect it,” I reply carefully. “But the humans already know you are here.”

  A low growl rumbles from deep in her chest, and another plume of smoke trails from her nostrils.

  “However,” I continue calmly, “they have honored your wishes. You have been left alone. And I have only come because you requested it.”

  I reach into my coat and produce Griswald’s signed decree, holding it up for her to see.

  “The Lord of Stonebrook has asked me to negotiate trade on his behalf, rather than coming to you himself uninvited.”

  Tiamat seems to weigh my words in silence. Her great crimson eyes narrow slightly, glinting with unease. I can tell the revelation that her lair is no longer a secret troubles her greatly. If I had to guess, she’s mentally cursing the moment she allowed Maribel and Shadow to leave alive. Still, that fear of exposure, of vulnerability, can be leveraged in this negotiation if I play my cards right.

  I straighten, raising my voice with purpose.

  “I regret that I cannot stop word of your home from spreading,” I say, my tone firm, projecting as much conviction as my eight-year-old frame can muster. “But as Prince of Arcadia and as the representative of the human lord who governs the land surrounding your territory, I give you my word—we will protect your lair from harm.”

  Tiamat tilts her head questioningly.

  “And how can I trust that you will?”

  “You shouldn’t trust anyone who has nothing to gain,” I reply honestly, letting a small, confident smile tug at my lips. “But if my kingdom establishes a lucrative trade agreement for a rare and valuable resource, we’ll have every reason to protect that investment.”

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  There’s a beat of silence. No smirk. No growl. Just those red, gleaming eyes fixed on mine. Then, after a long moment, I see it: the subtle flicker of acceptance in her gaze.

  “You may proceed,” she rumbles. “I shall allow the trade. One of my subjects will negotiate the terms in Stonebrook. All agreements shall go through them, and at no point will more humans enter this cave.”

  “Understood,” I say with a nod.

  “But before anything is agreed upon,” she adds, her tone sharpening, “I want you to explain the spell you used to bind a soul to a vessel.”

  “Very well,” I answer, already reaching into the bag of holding.

  I withdraw one of my hummingbird puppets, currently folded into its compact ball form. Holding it in the palm of my right hand, I extend it toward her. She lowers her head slightly, her eyes focusing with predatory intensity. Compared to her enormous form, the puppet is a speck, likely hard for her to see, but I know she isn’t watching the puppet itself. She’s watching me. Watching my mana flow.

  I’ve cast this spell many times before, but this time will be different.

  Ordinarily, mages speak a spell’s common name as shorthand for the complex magical language that forms in the mind. Many learn spells through trial and error, never truly understanding their structure or components.

  But Willow has taught me the ancient language—the true arcane tongue that shapes and molds the raw mana into spells.

  When a spell’s true name is spoken aloud to someone who also knows the language, its structure becomes clearer. With enough insight, they can grasp the spell’s design and replicate it themselves.

  I take a slow breath and begin the casting, raising my voice to clearly speak the spell’s true name—the ancient words Willow taught me.

  “Ko-Eph-Jin-Shor-Xei-Hath.”

  I feel the familiar pull of mana as it flows from me into the puppet. It springs to life, wings unfurling with a sharp click before it rockets off my hand and begins flitting around in circles. I smile as I watch it soar in wide, sweeping arcs above us. The sight stirs memories, countless moments of another version of me soaring through the skies, reveling in the thrill of flight inside one of these puppets.

  Beside me, Jade finally lifts her head from her bow. Her big green eyes shine with wonder as she watches the bird’s graceful movements. She extends a hand, and the puppet pauses, landing delicately on her outstretched fingers.

  “Amazing…” she breathes, bringing it closer for a better look.

  Just as she moves to close her claws around it—clearly intending to catch it—the puppet darts away with a playful flick, slipping through her grasp and returning to me. I hold out my hand, and it lands obediently.

  “Tor-Jhor-Xei,” I intone, casting the deactivation command.

  A soft glow washes over the puppet as it folds once more into a compact sphere. I feel the surge of mana flow back into me, along with the brief but vivid memories it captured: the sensation of flight, Jade’s bright, curious gaze, and a mischievous thrill as I narrowly escaped her grasp.

  “There it is,” I say, smiling up at the dragon confidently.

  But my smile falters as I meet her gaze.

  She’s not impressed.

  Her piercing eyes have taken on a hard, judgmental edge, lips curling ever so slightly downward.

  What did I say wrong?

  What did I do to anger her now?

  “Tell me, how many times have you cast this spell?” Her voice rumbles low, more growl than question.

  “At least four times a day, sometimes more,” I answer with a shrug. What does that matter?

  “Foolish child,” she says, her tone laced with exasperation and disappointment rather than anger. “Do you not realize what that spell is doing to you?”

  “Of course I know—”

  “Then you understand that the spell doesn’t copy your soul to place in the vessel. It tears a piece of your soul away.”

  “What?”

  “Even when those pieces are returned, scars remain where they were ripped free,” she continues, now looking more disapproving of the spell’s nature than concerned for my well-being. But her words send a chill down my spine.

  Have I really been ripping pieces of my soul apart without even realizing it? What does it mean to have scars on your soul? Shouldn’t I feel something? I don’t feel broken.

  I glance toward Willow, concern twisting in my chest. She meets my gaze with a warm, serene smile and places a small, clawed hand over mine. The silent gesture calms me. If the spell were harming me, Willow never would’ve taught it to me. She loves me, no matter what this dragon thinks. And how can Tiamat speak with such certainty about a spell she’s only just seen?

  “I warn you,” Tiamat says darkly, “the longer one of your soul fragments are separated from you, the more corrupted they will become.”

  “Thank you for your advice, Great Dragon,” I reply, keeping my tone polite.

  Free advice is cheap. And you get what you pay for.

  “I suppose you’re the one who taught him this,” she mutters, glaring at Lady Willow. “I don’t know what scheme you’re weaving for the young prince, but I’m certain of one thing—it isn’t for his benefit.”

  A heat rises in my chest, nearly boiling over. I want to shout, to defend Willow, to silence this arrogant beast and her baseless accusations. But I hold my tongue—just barely. Too much rides on this negotiation to indulge in pride or emotion.

  Still... I hate this stupid dragon.

  “Were you satisfied with the demonstration of the spell?” I ask, steering the conversation back toward safer ground.

  “Yes,” Tiamat replies with a weary sigh. “I had hoped it was a spell capable of transferring an intact soul into a new vessel... but alas, my search will have to continue.”

  “Then may we return to discussing the rest of our agreement?” I ask hopefully.

  “Ah, yes, I suppose we may,” she says, her tone shifting back to business, the sting of disappointment fading.

  “So you are offering to provide me with access to all your compiled knowledge, and in return, I will allow my kobolds to trade their mithril for gold and other resources such as those potions?”

  “Yes. I can leave a puppet with you—”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she cuts me off. “I have a better solution. One that fulfills several of our needs.”

  Tiamat gestures with one massive claw toward Jade. “Jade, you will go with this human.”

  “What?” Jade and I say in unison. Willow shows no reaction.

  “You will care for my servant,” Tiamat says, addressing me directly. “She will live among your kind, and you will teach her as much magic as she can learn.”

  Beside me, Jade lets out a high-pitched squeal of delight. Her paws fly to her mouth as she beams, bouncing on her toes, her tail whipping behind her in excitement. Meanwhile, I stand frozen in stunned silence, my thoughts spinning. How am I supposed to take care of a kobold?

  “Does she need to live with me personally,” I ask cautiously, “or can I assign her to other teachers?”

  “You may assign her to anyone who will care for her, provided she is free to study and free to negotiate trade agreements on my behalf.”

  “I see. I think that could work,” I reply, slowly collecting my thoughts. Shadow and Jade get along well. Shadow never sleeps, so he could train her and continue taking quests. Plus, she’d be close to Lord Griswald when needed.

  “Good,” Tiamat rumbles, satisfied. “Then there is just one more thing I must do…”

  She stretches out a clawed hand, eyes glowing as she begins channeling a spell. Instinctively, I raise a barrier around myself, unsure what to expect. A wisp of red mist erupts from her palm, streaking past me and slamming into Jade mid-reverie.

  Her joyful expression vanishes instantly, replaced by a scream of agony. She clutches her face and collapses to her knees, writhing, blood streaming from between her claws.

  “What did you do to her?” I shout.

  “Nullify Pain,” Willow intones calmly, stepping around me and casting the spell on Jade. Though it won’t heal or cure whatever affliction this is, it does remove the pain and stops her screaming.

  I glance at Willow, searching her expression for an explanation. She remains relaxed, unbothered, as if this was expected.

  Jade’s body goes still. The pain has stopped, but she remains kneeling, panting, her small hands still pressed over her right eye. Slowly, she lowers them, and I see the blood trailing down her snout. When she finally opens her eyes, one remains her usual radiant green—but the other is no longer hers.

  It glows with a fiery red light, identical to Tiamat’s.

  A chill runs through me. I understand what has happened.

  The dragon cast a spell—an invasive, insidious enchantment that allows her to see through Jade’s eye. She’s turned it into a living conduit.

  Tiamat confirms my suspicion. “With this gift, my servant will be able to communicate with me. Wherever she goes, whatever she sees, I will see. And whatever she learns… I will learn.”

  Watching Jade writhe in pain and seeing the blood still oozing down her cheek makes my stomach twist.

  That wasn’t a gift. That was a violation.

  And it tells me everything I need to know about how this dragon treats her allies.

  My bitter thoughts toward the dragon are interrupted by another thunderous roar echoing from my right. Turning, I spot a much smaller, red-scaled dragon soaring in through one of the side entrances to the cavern. She’s barely a tenth the size of Tiamat, with much shorter horns and a sleeker frame.

  The newcomer lands beside Jade with a heavy thud, then gently places a forepaw on her back, inspecting her closely. Her gaze lingers on Jade’s eyes, and recognition flickers across her own. The two exchange a rapid series of words in Draconic—far too quick for me to follow—though it’s obvious the younger dragon is checking on Jade’s condition.

  Really, what was the point of learning draconic? They speak way too fast for me to understand.

  The red-scaled dragon then turns sharply toward Tiamat, hissing and growling something furious. Tiamat responds with a resounding roar of her own, unleashing yet another concussive shockwave. Willow and I stand firm, resisting it, but both Jade and the newcomer are knocked flat against the stone floor.

  “Please excuse my daughter, Ember,” Tiamat says with a side-eye toward the smaller dragon. “She is ignorant and impulsive.”

  “No, excuse my mother for treating my friend like a redshirt.” Ember snaps back, surprising me with her use of common.

  Tiamat and Ember exchange several more barbed words in Draconic before Ember turns her attention back to Jade. Despite her size, Ember leans down and wraps Jade in a protective hug, which Jade returns. A few more soft words are exchanged in their native tongue.

  Then Ember rounds on me, eyes narrowing.

  “Hey nerd. If anything happens to Jade, anything at all, I will find you and I will eat you.”

  “N-nerd?” I sputter, thoroughly confused.

  “Just take care of her, dork” Ember says, turning to leave under a fresh growl from her mother.

  “I promise I will.” I respond, still a bit confused.

  With a final glare at her mother and a warning growl, Ember unfurls her wings and lifts off, flying back toward the passage she came from.

  Tiamat watches her go, her expression tight with irritation. Once Ember vanishes from sight, the Dragon Queen turns her gaze back to me.

  “Jade, please accept these potions and provide the prince with a fair exchange of mythril.”

  Jade nods weekly, still recovering from the emotional rollercoaster.

  “I request you take Jade, complete your exchange, and leave,” Tiamat says with a growl of annoyance. “I must deal with my daughter.”

  A part of me would like to know how exactly a dragon mother disciplines her children, but my better judgment wins out. The negotiations may have been rocky, and acquiring Jade was unexpected, but I did get everything I came here for. It would be best to leave now, before something inevitably ruins our success.

  “Thank you for your generosity,” I say with a bow. Willow and Jade both bow as well.

  I gather the potions I’d placed on the ground and return them to Willow’s bag. Then the three of us turn and depart together. Jade, still keeping her right eye shut and rubbing it gently with one hand, glances curiously at the Kobold version of Willow. She looks like she wants to ask who—or what—Willow really is, but the recent ordeal seems to have drained her too much to speak.

  She leads us out of the caverns, past the elders waiting near the entrance. They exchange words in their native tongue as Jade guides us through several tunnels, eventually arriving at a storage chamber. There, we unload the potions we intended to trade, placing them on a stone shelf. In return, we’re given ten, one pound bars of refined mithril, which I stored in Willow’s magical bag.

  I’m not sure it’s a fair trade, but that’s fine for an initial offering. These bars are for me to craft with. Griswald can negotiate with Jade later for his own supply. My goal was never to hand him resources, it was to secure him something far more valuable: a steady, exclusive supplier of mithril. That alone will be a massive asset to his domain.

  After the exchange, Jade leads us through the final stretch of tunnels toward the surface. But before we reach the light, Willow stops.

  “Wait,” she says, her voice low and cold. “Before we go any further, there’s something you need to understand.”

  Jade turns to her, confused.

  Willow exhales softly, and in the space of a breath, her Kobold form dissolves. Her silhouette stretches upward, reshaping itself into the tall, pale-skinned human woman Jade hadn’t seen before. Her long silver hair flows behind her, and her glowing eyes fix on Jade with an intensity that silences everything around us.

  “No one else knows what I am,” Willow says, voice like steel wrapped in silk. “Not the nobles. Not the commoners. Not even our friends and allies. You will not speak of it. Not to anyone.”

  Jade blinks, startled, but says nothing.

  Willow steps closer, her presence like a shifting pressure in the air. “If you betray this secret, if you so much as whisper it, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

  Jade swallows, then nods once. “I understand.”

  Willow holds her gaze a moment longer, and I get the sense that it is the ‘gift’ eye to which she is addressing, before giving a single, slow nod.

  We step out into the daylight at the mouth of the cave, and Jade hesitates. The sunlight stings her eyes, and she raises an arm to shield them. I do the same, having forgotten to deactivate my Night Sight. After a moment of blinking and adjusting, our sight returns and I see her smile.

  The three of us begin the climb up the narrow mountain trail. Jade wraps a scarf around her head to protect her eyes from the brightness. When we reach the top of the crevasse and she finally looks out at the sprawling valley that stretches to the horizon, she stops in her tracks.

  “I can’t believe how…” she breathes. “Big doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

  She stands there in silence, staring at the world she’s never seen.

  And for a while… we let her.

  But eventually, we have to coax her toward the horse—an animal she regards with equal parts awe and fear. Willow is patient, helping both of us onto the saddle before mounting behind.

  Then, with the sun at our backs and mithril in our packs, we set off down the trail toward Stonebrook… to bring Lord Griswald the good news.