Feeling the weight of his unease like a stone in his stomach, Theo adjusted the reins of Brioche, glancing back at the stone arches of Silvershard. Once they had passed the gateway, the stones melted back to a solid wall, impossible to recognize as an opening into the wonders of the mountain. He hoped he would never have to find his way into the mountains on his own.

  Beside him, Bruni sat on his pony and adjusted his leather pack with a huff, eyeing Theo with a critical squint that had become all too familiar.

  “Well then, boy,” he said. “Let’s see what you’re made of.”

  Theo wanted to snap that he was a prince and Bruni should show some respect, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t have the intended effect at all. Bruni would, most likely, just see him as even more of a whiny brat.

  Trying to shake Bruni’s condescending smile off, Theo pressed his heels to Brioche’s sides to get her to move and made a light smacking sound with his tongue. His whole body ached after the previous day in the saddle, and another full day of riding was not on his wishlist. Unfortunately, no one cared about his wishlist. (If anyone had, it included a warm bath, a proper bed, and a kitchen full of baking supplies.)

  “Come on, Theo,” Freya said. “You can do it.”

  “Everything hurts,” Theo muttered.

  Freya gave him a smile that was at least semi-sympathetic. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “Impressive, really,” Bruni said, passing them and looking smug, like he had been born on his pony.

  Soon, Theo was the last among them, just because he didn’t want Bruni’s eyes boring into the back of his head. Bruni’s barbs were grating on him more than he cared to admit. His confidence, already full of his own doubts about his ability to succeed in this mission and talk to the dragons, dwindled further with every sarcastic remark from the dwarf.

  They moved through the dense forest that bordered Silvershard, the light dimming despite the sun behind high in the sky as the thick canopy overhead filtered through only a few rays here and there. The air was cool and smelled of earth and moss, and Theo felt a flicker of peace as he listened to birdsong and let the gentle summer breeze caress his forearms.

  Freya rode slightly ahead, scouting the path, while Bruni was content to mutter to himself, occasionally casting disparaging looks back at Theo. Feeling the need for a distraction, Theo twisted off his backpack and pulled out one of the carefully wrapped cookies. Chocolate chips lay nestled in golden cookie goodness, and a delicious scent no one should be able to withstand hit his nostrils. Oh, how he wanted to be back in the royal kitchen, baking more of these.

  He bit into it, the sweet flavor filling his mouth. The outer edges were delightfully crisp, giving way to a chewy center teeming with gooey, dark chocolate. Each bite was a perfect harmony of sweet and slightly salty, the brown sugar caramelizing into subtle hints of butterscotch. He had achieved a perfect balance with this batch.

  That was when he noticed the rustling. A small, curious creature, which he at first mistook for a squirrel before he took in the delicate, feather-like antennae on its head, peeked out from behind a fern with large, intelligent eyes. It eyed the cookie in Theo’s hand with evident interest.

  “Hey there,” Theo whispered, intrigued. On a whim, he broke off a small piece and let it fall to the ground—the creature hesitated, its antennae twitching in the air, before it scurried forward and gently took the offering. Then it quickly hid among the bushes.

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  Theo smiled to himself, thinking that was that—but then the little ball of fur came flying out of nowhere, landing in Brioche’s mane and holding on for dear life when Brioche startled. The little creature made a series of chirruping noises.

  “Well, it was your own fault for jumping on like that,” Theo admonished the little creature.

  The little fur ball looked up at him with narrowed eyes, as if thinking Theo should not side with his horse. Then its gaze locked on the cookie in Theo’s hand.

  Theo snorted. “You want more? Well, I can’t blame you. These are delicious, right?”

  This time, the creature’s chirruping sounded like an affirmation.

  Theo held out another crumb, and the furry thing hesitated for but a moment before snatching the crumb from him and quickly stuffing it into its small mouth. Its fur was the color of melted sugar, shimmering slightly in the dappled sunlight.

  It squeaked again, and crept closer to sit half in Brioche’s mane, half on the saddle.

  Theo took another bite of the cookie—there wasn’t much left, and he was going to enjoy it too, not give all of it to a little fur ball—and when a crumb fell down, the creature snatched it.

  “You’re falling behind, boy!” Bruni called from ahead, glancing over his shoulder with a scowl. “What’s the holdup?”

  “Nothing,” Theo said. “I’m coming.” He pressed his heels to Brioche’s sides to make her increase her pace.

  The little creature, now entirely done with being shy and afraid, climbed onto the arm Theo used to hold the reins. Its sharp little claws dug into Theo’s forearm and he winced.

  “What, are you planning on coming with us?” he asked.

  It chirruped and scurried up Theo’s arm to sit on his shoulder, looking expectantly at the small piece of remaining cookie.

  “Fine,” Theo muttered and broke it in two. He gave the fur ball half, and popped the other into his mouth, savoring the last of the chocolate goodness. “If you’re coming with me, you’re going to need a name. I can’t just call you ‘fur ball’ in my head.”

  The little one chirruped, its cheeks bulging with the cookie. Perhaps it was trying to tell Theo its name.

  “How about Munchkin?” Theo asked.

  The creature made a series of noises of disagreement.

  Theo chuckled. “Okay, okay. How about… Nibblet?”

  The creature answered by curling up on Theo’s shoulder, still chewing on its cookie.

  “All right, then,” Theo said. “Nibblet it is.”

  ***

  As the small party journeyed deeper into the dense, shadow-draped woods surrounding Nebulon territory, the air grew thick with the musky scent of moss and ancient earth. The light that managed to pierce the canopy cast mottled shadows on the ground, turning every rustle in the underbrush into a heart-stopping moment. Theo, already on edge, kept glancing around nervously, his newfound companion Nibblet snug against his neck. At least the creature’s warm, soft fur was a slight comfort against the chill of fear.

  The kingdom is counting on you.

  Don’t fail.

  What would happen if he failed? The dragons would continue their raids, and innocent people would end up hurt or dead because of it. Theo wished he’d had a sibling—perhaps a strong, broad-shouldered older brother who loved sword fighting—who could have taken this on instead. But no, it was on him.

  Be a man.

  His father had a very clear idea of what being a man meant, and it did not include baking and watching the world from a window.

  “You need to stop coddling him,” his father had said once, when Theo was little and had been in his mom’s lap after a fall where he had scraped his knee badly enough to need stitches. “You’ll only teach him to be weak.”

  Theo had hidden his face in his mom’s dress and held on tighter, afraid that his father would pull him away.

  What was wrong with being comforted?

  He missed his mom’s comfort like he would miss a limb cut off from his body.

  Yet at the same time, he wanted to be what his father expected of him. Perhaps not the imaginary older sword-wielding brother, but… someone to count on. Someone the people could actually look up to. He wanted to be able to lead.

  And he wanted to make his father proud.

  Was this the way? Riding through an unknown forest, the leaves rustling around him as a faint wind blew past?

  Bruni, leading the way on his squat little pony, appeared unbothered by the eerie quiet. Freya rode with her hand on the hilt of her sword, her ever watchful eyes scanning the darker recesses of the forest. She glanced back and noticed Theo’s discomfort, offering him a reassuring nod.

  Before she could speak, however, a sound made Theo’s heart leap into his throat—it was a low, rumbling growl that rolled through the air like distant thunder.