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Leif shook his head, blinking rapidly. “No, Fightbringer. You don’t need to be afraid of that or what we think. You’re good. I know you are. It’s just disturbing that he’s found his way to you. And I’m afraid for you. We need to stop him.”

“How? He’s dead and he still has more power than all of us.”

Thane leaned back and his chest rose and fell. “You must find a way to keep him out. Is it every night?”

“No… just sometimes.” This was the first time it had happened in days.

Thane stood and slid his hand around her waist and stopped her pacing. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and hugged her close. “It’s your mind. You have the power there. You control it. Force him out.”

“What if I can’t?” she whispered.

“You can, Laya.”

“Well, this just proves we need to get the scepter and fast,” Fennan said. “We better pray to the Maker that today we have luck on our side. All the other days have been shit.”

A knock at the door startled them all. Layala nibbled on her lower lip, hoping that whoever stood on the other side hadn’t heard anything important.

Siegfried jerked his dagger loose and swept to the other side of the door, ready to get the jump on whoever it might be. Piper was the only one from their group not with them. Thane nodded to Siegfried, and he pushed down on the flat gold handle. The door creaked open to reveal Prince Ronan and Piper. She looked so dainty next to him. At her five foot six and his over seven feet, his silver hair, and her bright red, they were quite the pair.

“Good morning, all,” Ronan said cheerfully, and placing his hand on Piper’s lower back, he escorted her in with him. He did a quick survey of the room and then his jaw dropped. “You didn’t invite me to poker night? I’m offended.”

Siegfried placed his dagger back and closed the door behind them, retaking his spot on the wall.

“You’re more than welcome to join us tonight,” Thane said.

“I think I will.”

Layala noticed that his hand grazed Piper’s, almost as if it was a request. She tucked her hand in her pocket but smiled up at him. Interesting.

“Anyway, we have a tour of the history museum this morning as requested. I’m intrigued that the elves are interested in dragon history.”

Thane leaned his elbow on the fireplace mantel. “Ever since you showed me that book I’ve wanted to know more. Wars with gods, other realms, who wouldn’t like to know more?”

Layala smiled. “It’s fascinating.” And it was, but so was the scepter.

Chapter34

Thane marveled at two massive stone dragon sculptures overhanging the entrance to the museum. Their tails curled down wide pillars and their mouths were open to throw rainwater away from the building. The artist who carved the gray marble must have taken years with the detail from the teeth to thousands of divots for the shading of the scales. The massive dark wooden doors with a dragon wing etching on each side were pulled inward as they approached. If their suspicions were correct, the information they needed about the scepter would be here. The library held nothing of note, and what better place to keep the story of the scepter than here. With luck, it may very well lie in these walls.

They walked into an open area with a domed ceiling made of glass, letting in bright sunlight. “Wow, would you look at that,” Leif said, pointing to the paintings on the left side of the wall. “It’s Thane’s grandfather, High King Dramus shaking hands with,” he looked at Ronan, “is that...” he trailed off tapping a finger against his chin.

Ronan opened his mouth to speak but the lady on the right side of the door, sitting behind a massive cherry oak desk, blurted out, “It is King Drakonan. That depicts the last meeting with the high elves seven hundred and three years ago.” She jumped to her feet, pushing her round, gold-rimmed glasses up her nose and strode out to meet them with her hands clasped together and a wide grin. “Greetings, Prince Ronan, and our elven guests. I am absolutely thrilled you want a tour.” If she was any more excited, she’d start clapping. She gestured to the left. “Let’s start here, shall we?”

Both sides of the walls were covered in paintings framed in pure gold by the looks of it. A small stone dragon fountain, no larger than a five-year-old child, sat in the center of the room, trickling water out of its mouth.

With his arm looped around Piper, Ronan looked back at the group. “Is there anything in particular you wish to see?”

All of them shook their heads and a chorus of nos echoed throughout the room. They didn’t want to give away any suspicion of what they were after. Thane hung back as the group started the tour. The doorways to the left looked to hold statues, and to the right, shiny objects in glass cases. That’s where he needed to go.

“This is called Winter’s Dream,” the lady began, “and was painted in the year three twenty-two, by the marvelous Jonis Drevor. He’s the oldest dragon alive in Adalon. He even remembers the great wars and our origin realm. This is one of the landscapes of his homeland.”

Thane’s light feet tapped over the glossy white floor and caught up to the group. The painting showed arches of blue ice and brushstrokes of white wind. A dragon perched on a cliff’s edge, roaring up at the blush-pink sky where three moons of various sizes hung in the backdrop. This old dragon might be worth talking to.

“And here we have…”

Thane tapped Ronan’s arm, and said quietly, “I’m going to take a piss.”

He nodded and pointed to the doorway to the right. “Chambers are in there.”