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“Come and see, sire. There appears to be a small-scale invasion of some kind taking place.”

I rush to the very top of the tower and immediately see that dotted across the Drakon plains are dozens of small rectangular portals, through which humans are wandering with no obvious sense of urgency. It does not look like an invasion force. It looks like a series of faintly confused people dressed in old-style clothing.

“Do you want us to burn them?”

“Have they seen any dragons as yet? Have there been any flyovers?”

“No. We spotted them and came straight to you, sire.”

My eyes narrow. I know precisely who is behind this. I just don’t know how he did it from the depths of the dungeon.

“I don’t know how those portals appeared, but I will close them, and we will banish these people from the realm. Take your human-ish forms, and ride to round them up. I will lead.”

“What’s happening?”

Melissa is never far away. That is by design, my design. Her ability to get into trouble when she is not supervised is almost as developed as my nephew’s. That also means she is aware of things she should very probably not be aware of.

“There are people on the plains. We are going to get down there, close the portals, and deal with them.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Yes,” I say. “You are.”

The alternative is leaving her in the castle, and I just know if I do that she will be right down in the dungeon badgering Nox with questions and bypassing my security measures.

I ride out with a hundred of my best men. We are all in our walking forms, the ones that show no scales and approximate humanity as much as possible. Melissa is by my side, on Otto, the steed she stole in the beginning.

It has been a long time since I led a charge across the plains, and I have to admit my blood is rising to the experience. I never thought of myself as someone who gets bored, but life in the realm does become repetitive over time.

The humans are dressed in garish human attire, light cottons and synthetics. They wear t-shirts and shorts and baggy jeans. Some of them are holding swords made of plastic and foam. Others have come armed with very large vessels of flavored puffed corn.

“They’re coming! Ready your weapons!”

I laugh. If only Nox could see the army he has assembled. How pathetic…

Thwip!

And then the crossbow bolt hits a rider, striking him through the neck. He has no scale plating, no protection whatsoever. Blood spurts in great arterial gushes. He drops dead nearly instantly.

Horses stamp and paw. I feel my men bursting at the verges of their human disguises. They do not burst free because I have not given the order, but they want to.

I have not seen a human kill one of our kind in many hundreds of years. It is a shock to remember it can happen. And it is an even greater horror to remember that I have brought my mate with me. She is deeply vulnerable. I grab her from her horse and I put her on my mount, behind me, handling her like a scrappy little kitten.

“Don’t move,” I growl. “This is real danger.”

“What the fuck, Leroy!” someone shouts from the crowd. “What the fuck did you do that for?”

“We’re here to kill them, aren’t we?” A young man with long hair, glasses in the shape of cats, and a t-shirt that says BALLS on it speaks up. One of our proudest warriors has been erased by this greasy excuse for a human.

“They didn’t do anything!”

“They were coming straight for us!”

As the humans bicker over the actions of their most stupid and impulsive member, I make a decision. If I burn these people, I have to destroy each and every one of them, including the ones who did not attack. If I take my dragon form, and if anyone present takes theirs, then they will have to kill every single one of these people.

I cannot save my fallen soldier, but I can prevent further losses.

My voice booms over the humans, containing the force of my dragon lungs. It is much louder than they expect to be, and I see their eyes go wide as they hear me in their fetid little souls.