"Are the ropes all in place?" I pulled on the knot I'd tied around a nearby boulder. It twanged like a guitar string.

  "All good here," Tristan answered. "Ready when you are, love."

  "Same," Na-Ya added. "But can we talk about this some more?"

  "I don't like this," Ro continued. "I say we cut what's left of its throat and put it out of its misery."

  "No!" Vral shouted. "I'm gonna ride it! They'll call me Vral the Wyrmrider. No! Vral the Dragontamer! Wait. Vral the Bad Bitch Who Rides a Fucking Dragon!"

  "What, is 'the Slasher' not doing it for you anymore?" I asked, grinning.

  "Pssh, why would I need that old name when I have a dragon?" Vral's eyes sparkled at the massive, unconscious wyrm. "Vral the Cloudsurfer."

  "I'm pretty sure Alex was the one who defeated it, Vral." Tristan wagged her finger at Vral. "If anyone gets to ride it, and that's a massive if, it'll be him."

  "But..." Vral looked at me with the biggest puppy dog eyes I'd ever seen and, with a soft, pitiful voice, asked, "You'll let me ride it too, won't you?"

  I sighed. "No one's riding Dhurak." At least, not if he didn't want us to ride him. If he did, though... Fuck yeah. "I don't even know what's about to happen right now. We might have to put him down."

  "Don't screw with my heart like that, asshole!" Vral crossed her arms and huffed. "We're keeping it. I've made up my mind."

  He wasn't a damn pet. "Vral, we—"

  "I've made up my mind!" She stomped her foot.

  "If we're just going to put him down in the end, why are we even doing this?" Na-Ya was the next to cross her arms. "Why not just be done with it?"

  "Because I need to ask him some questions," I replied.

  And because, just like me, he was pulled here against his will. I felt like he deserved a chance. The same one I got. A little breath of life and a chance. Also, I needed to see what kind of... person... he was. Was an intelligent dragon monster thing a person? Was he just a monster? Was he something else? I had to know. "Is your rope good, Vral?"

  She twanged hers. "All good." As the rope hummed, her irritation vanished. In its place, a mischievous grin spread across her face. "I'm glad I reminded you to pack these. I told you they'd be useful..." Her grin spread. "Even if this wasn't exactly the use I had in mind."

  Tristan choked.

  "It was a great call. I'll have to make sure to always carry some with us." It was a real lifesaver a the moment for sure.

  Vral's eyes gleamed at Tristan. "Oh, you definitely should. Could be fun."

  When they told me to grab some rope before we left for Goodfield, I went to the shed and shoved a couple hundred feet of it into my inventory. I thought it would be better to be safe than sorry, which ended up being a good idea, but I was now realizing I'd missed the innuedo. "Noted."

  "Gross," Ro and Na-Ya both muttered.

  "Prudes." Vral stuck her tongue out at them. "And don't you two start this shit with me." She thrust s finger at Tristan. "It was your own damn cousin's idea in the first place. I'm just an amazing girlfriend and remembered to tell our hunky boyfriend to grab the tools we needed before we left."

  Both Ro and Na-Ya slowly turned to stare at Tristan.

  "I thought... you know... try something new..." Tristan's face, her neck... no, every ounce of exposed skin turned bright red. "I, uh... you see..." The quarter-elf's eyes drifted toward the ground. Then, shouting, "Oh, would you look at that!" she bent over and started fidgeting with what definitely looked like a tiny, completely normal stick on the ground.

  For a time, her family stared at her. Eventually, Na-Ya and Ro turned back to me.

  Not knowing how to redirect this mess, I simply shrugged and said, "It could be fun."

  "Gross," Ro and Na-Ya repeated.

  "It's hot!" Vral shouted. "And she's a Goddess and should be worshipped like one!"

  "Look! A rock!" Tristan plunged headlong into a bush.

  "Okay, okay." I waved them all off. Things were derailing, and fast. "Let's do this thing; otherwise, I'll get second thoughts."

  Whispering to one another, Na-Ya and Ro started for the other side of the wyrm while Vral fished Tristan out of the bush. After a few moments, everyone walked to the spots I'd pointed out when I explained my plan and started their prep.

  After clearing my throat and taking a deep breath, I walked over to the wyrm's head and took the beast in.

  He looked like shit.

  His arm was bent the wrong way, one of his wings was a stump, the base of his horn was oozing fluid, and his throat was torn open. In the mangled flesh, I could see a thick blood vessel—one as thick as my arm—weakly pumping blood to his head. Damn. Had I punched two inches deeper, I'd have killed him then and there.

  I took a deep breath.

  Even though he probably was just a monster, and I was probably just being a massive softy like Kasimir had told me a dozen times, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the wyrm. Dhurak looked pitiful. And, at least while he was asleep, he didn't seem so awful. His breaths were comforting. He kind of, sort of, reminded me of Arden. The dog version from back on "Earth." We slept on the couch together all the time. When I used him as a pillow, he sounded just like wyrm did now. He was a good boy.

  Fingering the dog charm that Faye had given me, which I'd begun wearing on a thin leather cord around my neck, I said, "Alright, team, let's get started." Letting go of the charm and reaching into my inventory, I felt the soulreaver blade's hilt find my fingers. Pulling the weapon from that space, I watched as the black blade sucked in the scattered light filtering through the clouds above. It certainly didn't look as good as it had after Dorit repaired it, but it was still in good enough shape that I could use it if needed.

  Then, I unslung the shield I'd recovered from the marsh and grabbed what remained of the handle hidden inside the shield's boss. It was half-melted, terribly pitted, and black from corrosion. I was fairly confident the thing could only take another hit or two, but I wanted it in my hand all the same. I always felt better with a good shield in my hand.

  When I was done inspecting my equipment, I looked up to see that Ro had gripped his sword in both hands and was pointing its tip directly at the throbbing blood vessel in Dhurak's neck. Vral was on the other side of the wyrm's head, where she was standing at the ready, daggers drawn. Na-Ya was next to Ro and was looking pretty sour. She was clearly nervous about my plan. Unlike her cousin, Tristan was standing next to Vral and smiling brightly at me, mace raised and magic already swirling around her hands.

  Nodding to Tristan, then Na-Ya, I said, "It's time."

  With a shake of her head, Na-Ya started chanting.

  Across from her, Tristan mouthed, "I love you," to me, then did the same.

  [Healing Light]

  [Healing Light]

  Holy light erupted from both of the priestesses and cascaded over the wyrm's broken form.

  Rooooo...

  Dhurak let out a low groan as light washed over him. His wounds began to seal. The break in his arm snapped back into place with a loud crack. The hole in his throat healed enough to stop the bleeding, though it still looked gruesome. The fluid oozing from his broken horn stopped flowing. He was still messed up, but he was no longer actively dying.

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  "Not too much. Just enough that he won't die."

  Both priestesses nodded and stepped away from the wyrm, their light fading with every step.

  As soon as the light faded, I stepped up to the beast's head, stopped directly in front of its massive eye, and waited.

  For a while, there was nothing but the soft, now-steady breathing of the massive creature. Slowly, he murmured again, groaned, and opened his eye. The emerald orb was hazy and unfocused for a time. With another groan, his massive head lolled to the side, and he coughed, forcing a small cloud of steam from his nostrils. Then, with a long, slow breath, he tried to sit up, but our ropes kept him in place.

  Only then did his emerald eye focus, the pupil locking directly on me and narrowing. He tried to roar, but only a weak rasp escaped his broken throat.

  "Dhurak." I stepped closer and held the black blade up to his eye. "Do you know what this is?"

  The wyrm's eye flicked to the blade and narrowed. For a time, he was quiet. Then, with another slow breath, he said in slow, slurred speech, "I have not... seen any like it... but I can smell... the foul taint... pouring from its core." The more he spoke, the more choked his words became. He was weak. When he finished speaking, he took a large, rattling breath and closed his eyes. "Will you plunge it... into my heart, fiend? Will you harvest my bones... for your foul summonings?" He sniffed. "I smell the taint upon you. You are... marked."

  Foul taint? So he didn't consider himself aligned with the Dark Lord?

  That was good.

  "Girls, heal him more."

  [Healing Light]

  [Healing Light]

  They healed him again. This time, the wound in his throat closed almost completely, though it was still puckered and raw. As it closed, Dhurak took a deep, unobstructed breath and let out a low growl. "You err, mortal. I will break free. And when I do—"

  "I'm not going to kill you unless I have to." I held the blade closer to his eye. "Don't make me."

  He laughed a single dark laugh. "Before the end, you will have to. For I will never stop until you, your women, your family... All who you know and love will die."

  "Why? Why threaten me when your life is in my hands?" It didn't make sense.

  He tried to twist, but our ropes held him in place. "That is the part you wish me to play, is it not?" His eye opened again and fixed on me.

  "And what part is that?"

  "I am the monster you must slay. For the good of your pathetic little kingdom, I must die. I have heard the words many times in my long years, though none of your kind has ever succeeded at fulfilling them." His lip curled upward.

  "Why do you think I would want that?" I was quickly realizing he was more intelligent than I imagined he could be. Was he philosophizing right now?

  "To think yourself the hero, we must be monsters for you to slay. You raid our homes. You steal our young. You kill our mates. And when you finally bring us low, you parade our corpses through your streets and mount our heads to the walls of your throne rooms." He chuckled. "You inflict all of this horror upon us, and yet, this fallen world deems you the hero and me the monster."

  Lowering my blade, I asked, "Is that the part you wish to play, Dhurak? Do you want to play the role of the monster?"

  His pupil narrowed, and for a long time, he was silent. When he finally spoke again, he shifted the conversation. "You speak the Elder Tongue, mortal. Few of your kind have ever had the will or wit to learn it." He swallowed. "For that at least, you have earned a small measure of respect from Dhurak, He Who Grinds the Hills."

  How, I had no idea, but I did. "Well met, Dhurak, He Who Grinds the Hills. I am Alex, the Iron Sentinel, Hero of the Pit."

  "A fine name, I think." Dhurak's nostrils let out small puffs of green steam. "How did you come by it?"

  "I fought for the pleasure of the real monsters who walk this land. As I did, I protected people like her." I pointed at Vral. "Then, on the Pit's final day in this world, I was the victor."

  "Real monsters?" Dhurak's voice lowered. "And what might those be?"

  "Us. Mortals."

  Dhurak's emerald eye brightened. "I see."

  "What about your title, Dhurak? How did you become He Who Grinds the Hills?"

  The wyrm frowned. "When an army of little shining men and their peasant hordes trampled the forests that surround my home, I was away from my lair, out hunting. Away from the place where my unborn children slept." A thick plume of steam poured from his nose. "When I returned to my home, I found my young slaughtered, my eggs destroyed. Thousands upon thousands of mortals slept upon their corpses, drunk with wine and battle." The steam grew thicker, and his voice lowered. "On that day, I spoke my rage, my grief, my pain to the mountains. At my cries, they shattered, burying over ten thousand vicious little mortals under the living stone of my home. On that day, I became He Who Grinds the Hills."

  "I see..." I swallowed. I couldn't imagine the pain of finding my family dead after a day away. "When you first saw us, did you think we had come to your forests? Did you think we'd come to harm your young?"

  "There are no more young to be had. I am the last of my kind. The last of the Serpents of the Forest." He swallowed hard. "However, I did think the mortals had decided to break the pacts they swore to me after I killed so many of their own."

  "What pacts are those?" I asked.

  "Your kind are no longer permitted in my forests." Lifting as much as our ropes allowed him to, Dhurak took on a regal air. "I am Lord of my land. The birds, the beasts, the spirits... they are the only ones entitled to the usage of my lands. In turn, I feed on their numbers from time to time."

  "And you manage your lands well?"

  "Until recently, it was a haven for all but the two-legged races."

  "What changed?"

  Dhurak hesitated. "Much."

  He was being evasive, so I decided to redirect. "When you saw us in the forest last night, why didn't you try to talk to us first?"

  He chuckled. "No mortal has ever tried to speak to me until the thread of their life has reached its end. By then, they will say anything to survive. For many years, I indulged them, but in time, I grew tired of the lies hidden beneath the groveling." His eye locked onto me. "I must say, however, that you are the first mortal, Alex, the Iron Sentinel, Hero of the Pit, to offer the same opportunity to me when I reached the end of my own thread. For that, I offer you another measure of respect, though the reason you have for doing so is obvious to me as well."

  "Why do you think we've kept you alive?"

  Dhurak's eye hardened. "I can only assume that you have brought me back from the waters of eternity in the hope that you can make me your pet." He let out a weak, wet chuckle. "You mortals only ever think of taming my kind. Of riding the winds on our backs."

  At his words, Vral's ear twitched.

  His pupil narrowed. "Know, mortal, that I will never bow, and I cannot be tamed."

  I made sure to keep my gaze steady, to not flinch at his words. But he wasn't wrong. Being some epic dragon rider was one of my first thoughts. Who didn't want a badass pet dragon? I never once considered what he might think about it. Some hero I was.

  "I don't want to tame you, Dhurak. And I don't want to harm you anymore. I just want information."

  His lips curled upward into what had to be a dragon's sneer. "You will want more. Mortals always do."

  Damn it. He was right again. I wanted information and assurances that he wouldn't harm us or others if, for some dumb ass reason, I decided to let him go.

  Slipping the black blade back into my inventory, I held up my hand and said, "I've taken the first step toward peace. See?"

  The wyrm's eye softened a little when the black blade vanished. His smile faded. "You have a rare, precious power, mortal." He turned his head as much as our ropes allowed, letting him see me without straining his eye. "One afforded only to those chosen by the Radiant One."

  "Is that what you call the Goddess?"

  "Indeed. And, knowing what you are, it pains me less to die by your hand." He stretched his neck toward me as much as our ropes allowed. "Strike me down, champion. Claim your place as a hero among the mortals."

  I shook my head. "That's not happening." Trying a new approach, I bluntly said, "I thought wyrms were monsters, but you don't seem like a monster at all."

  Dhurak huffed, and steam flowed through his teeth. "The Tyrant of the Black Mountain may have stolen the eggs of our forebears, may have twisted our bodies and corrupted our minds for an age, but we return to ourselves with each turn of the wheel."

  I assumed the Tyrant was the Dark Lord. "So, you're saying that all wyrms aren't monsters?"

  "No more than all mortals are heroes." Dhurak's lip curled.

  He made a good point. One I'd have to remember as I went forward. "What, or who, brought you here, Dhurak?"

  A long, low hiss escaped from between his teeth. "A pale-skinned mortal with eyes like moss and stone." The air grew thick with chlorine as a fresh wave of steam poured from his nostrils.

  Moss and stone? Kasimir had blue eyes... But Devon... Devon's eyes were hazel. "What else can you tell me about him?"

  "Not he. She. At least, I believe it was a she. Mortals look much the same to me."

  Well, the Kasimir theory was out, now. He was still an asshole, though. "What can you tell me about her?"

  "Little." He rumbled. "For days, my forests burned. Despite my best efforts, there was little left. That was when she came... she came as I slept." He growled.

  "Before I could even raise my head to give her warning, she spoke words of power. Then, I was surrounded by shadow and flame, and the world went dark." With another growl, he added, "However, before the world disappeared, I struck her with the full force of my mighty breath, and her magic wavered, if only a little. I suppose that is all that has kept me alive. Free." He squeezed his eye shut. "I thought it was a bad dream for some time. The flames. The destruction. Then, I saw the large waters nearby and the sunken ruins within. That was when I knew what she had done."

  So he had been teleported then. "What land do you come from, Dhurak?" How far had he come?

  "I hail from the edge of the Tyrant's black land in the north and the rolling forests and fields of the east."

  I tried to pull on my knowledge of Reial's geography. "Do you mean Volkash and Evron?"

  "Yes, those are the mortal names." Dhurak closed his eyes.

  He'd been sent clear across Reial. "And you were pulled from there to Istaera?"

  "Is that what this land is called?" He spoke without opening his eyes again. "It has been two ages since the people who share this world with my kind have called us friends. I know not the names of the lands distant from my own." He sighed. "Istaera. Another good name, I think. Perhaps, if I survive, I will call it home."

  "Why not go back to your forests?" I asked.

  "They were burned to ash." The wyrm exhaled. "By the time she'd found me, only a small grove remained. By now, it is surely destroyed."

  "Goddess..." My heart broke for him. "Dhurak... I'm sorry for your losses."

  "You feel pity?" His eye softened. "You are so unlike your kind, mortal. I see why She chose you. You are a credit to your kind."

  "Yeah, well..." What I was about to propose was crazy, but I had to do it. "What if you could have a new forest to protect?"

  He paused. "That is impossible. There is no land left for me."

  "There is." I looked over at Vral, who, at some point, had holstered her daggers and was staring at the wyrm with the same sparkling eyes as before. Then, I looked at Ro, who was still standing at the ready, but whose sword tip was no longer aimed at the beast's throat. Behind Vral, Tristan was looking at me with wonder in her eyes, and even Na-Ya had relaxed next to Ro.

  Dhurak took a deep breath. "And where might that be?"

  Looking at my party, I commanded, "Everyone, pull the ropes off."