Page 2 of Zachary

“Serves you right. Now get the mop and clean up that mess, then get to work,” Dáithí orders. I study him with new eyes. Sassy is one thing, but this… This is a whole new level. Especially when the security elf meekly opens the door to a closet, brings out a mop, and begins swabbing the floor. He’s still keeping one eye on me, but I’m impressed. I wonder if Dáithí can teach me that level of self-confidence.

I used to have it, until I discovered it was all built on the destruction of others.

The security gate opens, and Steffen steps out. I stand, and we walk toward each other. It’s like looking at myself… if I never smiled and considered nearly every living being to be a threat. At least he no longer looks at me that way—it’s taken a long time, but sometimes I even get an almost-smile.

Then his gaze slides over to the elf with the mop. He nods to Dáithí and gestures to me. “Brandt’s waiting.”

My brother is a man of few words.

I smile again at Dáithí and follow Steffen through the gate, resisting the urge to look back at the security elf and twiddle my fingers in a wave. I used to do things like that when I was a very young child, and while my nurse thought it was adorable,hewould chide me about behaving with dignity. I wanted nothing more than to make him proud, so I repressed the habit.

But since coming to Earth and spending time with other dragons, I’ve come to realize that kind of behavior is normal for us. We’re… fun. And while I know my twin was broken in a way he can never fully heal from, if I’m going to devote my life to helping dragonkind, I need them to be able to relate to me. So… I’m learning to be fun again.

Trying to, anyway. It’s not going all that well.

“How have you been?” I ask Steffen, keeping my voice low in deference to his preference for privacy. I spoke to him only a week ago, but I want him to know I care. Because I do, so much. It kills me sometimes that, as far as our relationship has come, it will never be what I used to dream about when I was small.

He gives a tiny nod. “Everything is well here.” Hesitates, then adds, “I bought some new blades. I’ll show you later.”

My heart soars. Anyone else might think that’s a weird thing to say, but I know Steffen now. He doesn’t volunteer information. Doesn’t participate in the art of conversation. This is himtrying. This is him showing me he wants to connect. “That would be great.”

I leave it there—he’s more comfortable with silence, and I don’t want to push him. It’s up to him how our relationship goes, not me.

We get to Brandt’s office, and he knocks once before opening the door and walking in. I follow.

“Ronan,” Brandt says warmly, getting up from behind his desk and coming around it. I glance at Steffen, who nods, thentake three big, fast strides to meet Brandt and receive his hug. There is nothing in existence like the touch of the wing leader. All my stress, all my guilt… it falls away with the soothing touch of the life force.

It’s not until I finally step back from the embrace that I realize there are others here. Wil doesn’t surprise me—he’s Steffen’s second-in-command and probably closest friend. As much as Steffen has friends, anyway. But Fabian… usually I only see him at Here Be Dragons.

“Hi.” I smile at them both and give a little wave. “It’s good to see you.” I mean it. These are some of the people Brandt knows and trusts the most, and when he first brought me home to Here Be Dragons, they were the ones who helped me, taught me what it meant to be a dragon. Fabian, especially—he’s the species historian and record-keeper, and he spent dozens of hours patiently answering questions and telling me things about my own species that I never knew.

“You too,” Wil says. “It’s been a while—”

“Chat later!” Fabian’s all but bouncing in his seat, a wide, excited grin lighting his face. “Tell him tell him tell him!”

“Take a breath,” Brandt advises wryly, going back to his chair. “Ronan, have a seat. We’ve got some exciting news, and a project for you.”

I sit, my curiosity piqued. A project? I’ll do it, of course. Anything Brandt needs from me.

“There’s been a discovery just outside the demon village of Hortplatz,” Brandt begins, and I shake my head.

“I’m not familiar with it,” I admit.

“There’s no reason why you should be, especially this village. It’s in Switzerland, and until very recently, the only people who lived there were demons.”

That’s a shock. The community of species is very well integrated—I didn’t realize there were whole towns made up of a single species.

“Most of the reason for that is the location,” Wil explains. “Most of the year, it’s cut off by snow, and since demons can teleport in and out, they—”

“Pleeeeeeeeease tell him the boring stuff later,” Fabian begs. “Comeon.”

Wil rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, and Brandt chuckles. Even Steffen’s face softens… a little.

“All right, then,” Brandt soothes. “Ronan, in one of the caves above the village, they discovered a twelve-ish-thousand-year-old vault door heavily protected by dragon preservation spells.”

My jaw drops.

“That was my reaction too,” Wil assures me.

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