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Being abruptly yanked into a building threw Griff off balance, but he recovered quickly. He started to swing his rusty sword when he heard a familiar voice.

“Whoa, it’s us, Cap!” a man yelled, and Griff abruptly halted his attempt to eviscerate his attacker.

The gloom inside prevented him from making out features, but he knew that voice.

“Kreed? Is that really you?”

“Aye, Cap. I’m here, as is Simhi and Monty,” Kreed exclaimed. “And might I say, I’m damned glad we found you alive.”

“You came.” He’d half wondered if they would risk it, and as he’d been reading to the dragon he’d blasted himself for being so selfish as to expect them to put themselves in danger for him.

“As if we wouldn’t come,” his old friend snorted. “Soon as I seen the smoke signal, I knew it had to be you.”

“He did,” Simhi confirmed. “And I called him an idiot, because we saw the dragon roast you.”

“Bah. I told them you weren’t dead. I could feel it in my bones,” Kreed stated, thumping his chest.

“How is it you’re alive?” Monty exclaimed. “How did you survive the dragon’s fire?

“I don’t know.” He didn’t remember it happening. However, their claim did explain his lack of clothes upon waking on that ledge. But how could he have emerged without even a single blister, considering his clothes had burned away?

“It’s ‘cause the cap’s made of steel,” Kreed boasted. “Gonna take more than a dragon to take him down.”

“Oh please,” Monty mocked. “You thought he was dead like the rest of us, or did you forget blubbering like a baby once we got back on the ship and relayed the news?”

“Did not,” Kreed huffed.

“Did too.”

Griff snorted. “If you’re done arguing, then I am curious. If you thought you saw me die, Simhi, why come back ashore?”

“Because someone was obviously alive,” Simhi explained. “And it didn’t seem right to leave them here.”

“You took a big risk.”

“Which paid off,” she countered.

“What if I’d been the enemy?” Griff pointed out.

“Then we’d have used them as bait to try and lure the dragon so we could kill it.” Monty struck a pose barely visible in the dark.

“Kill it with what? That thing’s covered in scales that act like armor.” Griff hated to poke holes in their suggestion, but they needed to understand the danger of their half-assed plan.

“Yeah, it’s got a tough hide,” Kreed held out a familiar sheath. “But I figured your wolfframm blade might do the trick.”

“How is it you have it?” Griff asked in surprise.

“I spotted it in Basil’s cave and snagged it before we took off,” Simhi stated.

Upon taking it in his hands, Griff felt a slight jolt, as if his sword reacted to their being reunited. “I think we’re better off avoiding the dragon.” He buckled the sheath around his waist and asked, “Is it true Avera was recaptured by Koonis?”

“How did you know?” Simhi exclaimed.

How to explain? By being honest. “The dragon told me.”

Monty guffawed. “Ha. That’s funny. Next thing you’ll be claiming you and the murderous beast are friends.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. It sees me as a servant,” was Griff’s dry reply.

“Wait, you’re serious? You’ve actually talked to it?” Monty couldn’t hide his incredulity.

“Yes, but don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s tame. It has a tendency of calling humans snacks.”

“Well, it’s gonna have to find itself a new maid and something else to eat since we’re leaving Verlora,” Kreed declared. “The skiff’s tied up down by the docks.”

“We’ll have to be careful,” Griff cautioned. “Argent, the name it calls itself, is currently out hunting.”

“Don’t worry. We’ve got a system to avoid monsters now, don’t we?” Kreed declared.

“Yeah, it’s called the scurrying and burrowing like mice method,” Monty drawled.

“You wanna go wander around in the open? Go right ahead,” Kreed offered. “Me, I’m gonna be smart and stay alive. Speaking of which, we should get going before your dragon boss decides it needs you to launder its drawers or lotion its feet.”

For a second Griff found himself wavering.

For decades, he’d dreamed of coming home, only the place he recalled no longer existed.

This cemetery of a city belonged to the past. He could see no easy future trying to rebuild.

Even if a dragon didn’t hunt Verlora, the massive bugs and other wildlife would make it too treacherous for regular folk.

He should be glad to leave. Strangely, though, the thought of abandoning Argent bothered.

Bossy dragon. Why should he care that it wouldn’t have someone to talk to or read to it?

Someone it could taunt and call stupid? Perhaps if it had been nice, he would have…

What? Stayed with it? Invited it to come with him?

He doubted it would agree to the latter, seeing as how it had no interest in helping with the Zhos situation.

Not surprising, given its kind had been sacrificed the last time they tried to stop the entity.

However, Griff couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Being with Avera had convinced him the monster needed to be handled, meaning he couldn’t stay. Argent would be fine.

“Let’s head out. But keep tight. The bats are hungry too.”

“Ooh. Think we can bring a few back to the ship for Cook to make some soup?” Monty exclaimed.

“I don’t think Cook will need more than one, given they’re as big as you,” Griff replied.

“Big as me?” Monty sounded faint.

“Guess you haven’t met our flying friends yet. If you hear rustling, duck.” His word of advice as they exited the building.

Poor Monty didn’t get to snare a bat despite spending the next few hours trekking to the docks. Several giant beetles came clacking and got taken out. A rat tried pouncing on Simhi only to end up with a dagger sticking out of its head.

Of Argent, Griff didn’t spot any sign, despite the fact he most likely would have, given the clear night. The stars twinkled while a half-moon shone, giving light of sorts below. Enough light for Monty to eye Griff and laugh.

“What kind of fashion statement you trying to make, Cap?”

“It’s all I could find. It was that or wander around balls out.”

“Yikes, and put us all to shame with your massive brass ones?” Monty teased.

“Sometimes they’re so heavy, I think about getting a barrow to tote them around,” he riposted.

It felt good to be back amongst his friends.

When they reached the open space that needed to be traversed to get to the rowboat, Griff paused. This would be the most dangerous part. No cover to hide, and if Argent happened to skulk nearby, would likely spot them.

“When I say go, run as fast as you can and get in the boat. Soon as we’re all aboard, cast off. Once we’re in the mist, the dragon won’t be able to see us,” Griff advised.

“What if it’s waiting on the other side of the mist?” Monty queried.

“Then we’re fucked.” Argent could simply tip them over and they’d be literally sunk. “Ready?”

“Last one to the boat gets to be kraken bait,” Monty sang, sprinting.

“Like fuck. I say the noisy one gets dangled,” Kreed muttered as he followed more cautiously.

Simhi clucked her tongue. “So nice of them to make targets of themselves.”

“Guess we’d better follow before they get in trouble.” Griff managed a few strides before something made him look up in time to see Argent had arrived without a sound. The dragon dove, its wings tucked tight to its body, its mouth opening wide, showing an orange glow.

If it breathed, Monty and Kreed were done for.

“Don’t you dare roast them!” Griff yelled, shaking his fist.

The dragon landed between him and his friends and huffed steam. But I’m hungry.

“Then you should snack on the bats we left for you in the city.”

Stringy things. I much prefer fresh and juicy red meat. Its head swiveled to observe the men at its back.

Griff heard the ring of steel as a blade left its scabbard and yelled, “Don’t attack. Let me talk to it first.”

A wise decision. Should they threaten, I will protect myself.

“They’re scared. A giant fucking dragon just about crushed them.”

As if I’d do that to a potential meal. I like my meat crunchy, not slurped off the ground.

“What’s it doing?” Simhi whispered by Griff’s side.

“Can you not hear it?”

She is not of the blood. Only you can hear greatness.

Griff almost rolled his eyes as he replied to Simhi, “It’s arguing with me.”

“I don’t hear nothing, Cap.”

“That’s because it talks inside my mind.”

“If you say so.” Simhi didn’t hide her skepticism.

“I swear it’s the truth. As to what we’re arguing about, the dragon is annoyed I’m leaving.”

No, you’re not. I didn’t give you permission.

Griff had enough of the bossy Argent. He stalked toward it, hand on the hilt of his sword, and growled, “I cannot stay here. There are people depending on me.”

And what of me?

“You’re the one who insists on staying here. Meanwhile, there’s a big, wide world out there.”

Mmm. New kinds of snacks…

“That and also more people like me who can hear you.”

Why would I need another when I have you?

“I am not staying,” he exclaimed as he heard Monty loudly saying, “What’s the cap doing? Is he trying to get eaten? Why hasn’t he chopped off its head?”

I think I shall start my meal with him. Argent craned once more to look, and Griff lost patience.

His sword exited the scabbard, the wolfframm blade glinting in the partial moonlight. The metal, rare and very precious, mined from a fallen star, exhibited special properties that allowed it to slice through just about anything. He pressed the point of it to the scaled chest.

“Leave my friends alone.”

Argent’s head whipped around, and it hissed, You dare to threaten me?

“Only because you’re stubbornly refusing to listen. You cannot eat my friends, and I need to go.”

Then you leave me no choice!

Griff braced himself, reluctant to fight the beast, at the same time he couldn’t give in to the dragon’s unreasonable expectations. “I don’t want to kill you, Argent, but I will if you refuse to listen to reason.”

As if you could kill me, the dragon snorted. But rather than rejoice in your failure, I shall grant you your wish. But if you want to depart, then I will need some of your blood.

“Excuse me?”

Blood. You know, the red liquid that drips from wounds. Why must you pretend to be so stupid? Or perhaps it’s not an act?

“Why do you want my blood?”

I can’t exactly fly for days without a perch, and your ship isn’t suitable for landing. Hence a change in size is needed.

The first part made sense, the latter… “When you say change in size, are you saying you can shrink?”

Of sorts. It would be much easier to show you. But for that, I need the blood from someone with the proper lineage.

He hesitated and Simhi muttered, “Just give it what it wants.” Simhi might only hear one side of the conversation, but it proved enough for her to understand what occurred.

“How much blood are we talking about?” he asked.

More than a few drops, but not enough to harm you. If you fill that cup on the ground, that should do it.

A cup full? He glanced around and saw the battered tin vessel lying on its side. Not a huge tankard, but still a daunting amount to fill, and for what? So the dragon could join them? What an intriguing idea.

“What’s going on, Cap?” Kreed yelled.

“Just give me a moment. Argent and I are negotiating.” He snatched the cup off the ground and handed it to Simhi. “Would you hold this for me? Argent wants my blood so it can shrink. Given it needs a full mug, I’d rather not spill any on the ground.”

“How’s blood going to make it small?” Simhi eyed the dragon with skepticism.

“Guess we’ll find out. It’s not as if I have much choice.”

You don’t.

Griff grimaced as he poised his blade over his palm. “Another day, another scar.” Before he could change his mind, he slashed. Blood ran quick and bright, but Simhi caught every dribble, and as the liquid reached the rim, Griff slapped the wound and applied pressure.

“Now what?” Simhi asked, holding the filled cup aloft.

Tell her to place it on the ground in front of me.

“Put it down in reach of the dragon.”

“You want me to get close?” Simhi squeaked with wide eyes, but despite her trepidation she ventured forth and knelt slowly, settling the cup down before retreating, keeping her gaze on Argent the entire time.

Before Griff could ask what next, Argent’s head dipped, and the cup disappeared.

Ugh. Nasty. I see a thousand years hasn’t improved the taste. And here come the cramps.

The dragon shuddered, its whole body rippling.

“What’s happening?” Simhi whispered. “Why does it look like it’s having a fit?”

“I don’t know.” Griff and Simhi retreated from the shaking beast.

“Watch the tail!” Kreed yelled.

“Yeehaw! It’s just like that time we had to avoid that giant octopus’ arms,” Monty hollered in reply. Only he would find avoiding a thrashing tail fun.

Argent suddenly went rigid and quiet. Had his blood killed it?

Griff blinked and frowned. Then blinked again. “Is it me or Argent is shrinking?” he muttered to Simhi.

“It’s definitely getting smaller,” Simhi confirmed.

Not just smaller. Its scales receded and the shape of its body changed. If Griff hadn’t been watching, he would have never believed it. Never thought a dragon the size of a house could become the size and shape of a man.

An actual man.

Simhi whistled. “Well damn. That’s one pretty boy.”

“Thank you.” The mellow voice emerged from a square jaw lacking bristle. Brilliant mauve eyes peeked from a face tanned like Griff’s, the hair on his head long and lustrous, the color exactly like the scales used to be, black with a hint of red. Muscled upper body, arms and legs, and…

Monty whistled. “Forget horses, I wanna be hung like a dragon.”