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The bonfire Griff had lit was extinguished under the dragon’s smothering girth.

Annoyance with that and Argent’s comment led to Griff glaring and snapping, “I did not build a fire to draw people for you to snack on.”

Then what was its purpose?

“Don’t play stupid. I sought to inform my crew I hadn’t died.”

Why?

“Because they care for me and would probably be relieved to know I’m not dead.”

You obviously don’t care for them. Why else do something so foolish as to lure them into my territory?

“Verlora doesn’t belong to you.”

It does. I laid claim to it the moment I was hatched.

“You can’t simply decide a whole country is yours.”

I can, and did. It is our way, and the fact humanity chose to forget is your issue, not mine.

Griff pursed his lips. “I find it hard to believe that my ancestors ever worked with you.”

Served. They served us, and in return, we kept the lands we allowed them to settle free from harm.

“Harm by who?”

Other dragons, of course. We don’t just hoard pretty objects. We collect people too. Luckily for you, attractiveness isn’t a necessity.

His jaw dropped. “I am considered handsome.”

Meh. I’ve seen more appealing.

“Not in this life, you haven’t,” Griff snarled, a tad insulted.

True. Although I do hope you are not the epitome of this time because that would indicate a decline in your kind.

The dragon really didn’t know when to stop.

“Is there a reason why you’ve returned to plague me?” Griff snapped.

You should be honored by my attention.

“I’d be happier if you went away.”

You have much to learn about the relationship between the blooded and dragons.

“I understand perfectly. You’re looking for a slave.”

I prefer the term servant. Now if you’re done being difficult, I have a task for you.

“I’m busy.”

Sulking? Yes, I can see that. Enough of being contrary. It is time you proved your worth.

Before Griff could reply, the clawed paw gripped him, tight enough he exclaimed, “What happened to you not harming the blooded?”

So dramatic. I am not hurting you, merely providing transport to not waste time.

“You are unbelievably bossy,” Griff grumbled.

Some of us were hatched to command. Said as the dragon threw itself into the air and flapped its mighty wings.

This time, knowing what to expect, Griff managed to leash his fear.

As they gained altitude, he took a moment to observe and marvel as the city—so large on the ground—shrank as they rose, the buildings seemingly toy-sized.

From this vantage, he could see the mist hugging the shoreline and as they kept ascending, he could see past it.

Could see the deep blue of the ocean and the ripples of waves.

The curve of the continent.

The bobbing speck of his ship!

But more worrisome, the tiny dot that launched from it.

Someone must have spotted his short-lived signal and came to investigate. Good and bad. The good: he could get off Verlora. The bad: the dragon might spot the vessel and hunt down its occupants. He had to prevent that, but how?

The dragon flew to the top of the volcano and then dove down, a heart-stopping plummet aimed at the lava bubbling at the bottom. Griff watched as it got closer and closer…

The dragon suddenly tilted, hovered before it, and alit on a wide ledge in front of a cave where it deposited Griff.

He glanced around and noticed piles of stuff but not the same kind of items that littered the ledge running the circumference of the magma.

There he’d seen all manner of riches: jewels and gold, plus the four other eggs.

The cave, however, held paintings and stacks of books.

“Why have you brought me here?” Griff asked, noticing no way for him to exit that didn’t involve swimming in the deadly lava.

Read to me.

“What?”

I wish to learn the history of what has happened since I expired. There are books detailing those events. You will read them to me.

“I’m surprised you can’t do it yourself.”

The claws flexed. These aren’t meant for turning pages.

The odd request actually amused. Of all the things he’d expected—being used as bait, tortured for entertainment, punished for building the bonfire—this would have never crossed his mind.

“Why do you care about history? You’ve already stated your lack of interest in humanity.”

Knowledge is the most valuable thing there is.

Wise words. “Very well. Which book shall we start with?”

The oldest one. It’s best to learn things in the proper order.

It took Griff a moment to locate the tome detailing the origin of Verlora. He hefted it and found himself asking, “This book is from my father’s library. How did you get it?”

Lance brought me the books once I expressed an interest. Alas, he was killed before we could begin delving into them.

It shook Griff to know his father’s hands had been the last to touch it. With a voice that started off slightly unsteady, he opened it and read, “Verlora was founded by Horatio Leif…”

He spent hours reading aloud, pausing to answer questions, some of which he didn’t have replies to, such as why they called the country Verlora. A trick query as it turned out because Argent knew the answer and smugly told him, Verlora was the name I used before my death.

Hunh. Griff would have never guessed. It led to him venturing to ask, “Did you know that before Verlora’s fall, the explorers of the volcano found the skull of a dragon?”

Mine, most likely, Argent hissed.

“You died here?”

No, but the remains would have been easy to relocate.

“How did you die?”

I told you, to save the humans.

“But how? You seem rather difficult to kill.”

Not when one bows their head and waits for the killing blow. Don’t expect me to make that same mistake again, Argent grumbled. Enough reading. I need to hunt.

Once more Griff found himself clutched and treated to a dizzying ascent to the top of the volcano and then a dip, more terrifying now that darkness had fallen and he could see nothing. Argent deposited him in the courtyard of the citadel and left without another word.

Off to hunt at the same time Griff’s crew—his friends—traversed the city in search of him. He had to find them first.

He entered the citadel and sought out weapons because he could hardly go traipsing about the city empty-handed. The old armory still had swords in decent condition, as well as a dagger for his boot.

He eyed some of the hanging lanterns and debated bringing one. It would be nice to light his path, but it would also pinpoint him. Who knew what lurked at night? Not to mention, Argent would easily spot it from the sky. In the end, he chose to trust his senses.

Once he exited the citadel, he had to choose a route. Chances were his crew would use the same path they’d used to cross the city that first time. He set off in that direction and didn’t make it far before the first threat came chirping from the sky.

He barely had time to duck before something swooped, the loud flap of leathery wings making him think of Argent, only it wasn’t the dragon that attacked.

For one, this creature had beady red eyes.

A bat, usually harmless, but that was true of the palm-sized version.

This one appeared to be almost as tall as him.

Another animal grotesquely changed by the experiment that leaked from Verlora’s underground lab.

Some kind of growth serum meant to increase the size of crops, only it turned out it worked on the animals and bugs as well.

As it came around to attack again, Griff’s swing missed, and the bat fluttered around for another dive. This time, he managed to stand his ground and sliced through a wing, sending the creature tumbling.

The first of many. As bats plunged from the dark sky, he hacked and slashed, killing them fairly easily, but it meant he made little progress traversing the city. At this rate, he’d die of fatigue before finding his friends.

Seeing as how standing in the open kept attracting the bats, he traveled close to the walls of the buildings still standing, inching along them. Slow moving, however, it did provide some respite from the bat attacks.

What he didn’t expect as he sidled across a doorway? To be yanked inside!